Suzuya Rei, or as he was known as now Suyuza Juuzou, patted his stomach as convulsion after convulsion made him regurgitate its content. He wiped his mouth and dried off the tears staining his cheeks. He had been fine working as a scrapper. He had been fine performing circus acts to entertain important-looking ghouls. However, eating people? This was treading a fine line, and even though his morals were shaky at best, a side-effect of growing up with ghouls, he had the feeling he shouldn't have done that.

"A ghoul eats," Big Madam had said, vibrating with excitement. "So show us how you feed. Come, my beautiful child, eat."

He had earned ten "Good Boy Points" after today's performance. The taste of flesh was still awful on his tongue, the blood felt too thick, too metallic.

As of late, Mother had been growing more and more restless. Juuzou wondered what was going on. She got twitchy when she gazed at him, her fists clenching. Juuzou was not an expert on body language, but she seemed angry.

He had asked what was wrong. She had patted his head affectionately.

"Juuzou, my child. You know I love you, don't you?"

Juuzou had nodded. He loved her too. She had sighed then.

"I am afraid things are going to change when you grow up. I'm terrified you won't be my beautiful girl anymore."

"B-but Mother, I'm a bo-"

The backhand he had received, enhanced by the heavy, gaudy rings on her fingers, had torn open his cheek and made him snap his jaw shut.

"Do not talk back," she had said and Juuzou had kept silent, head bowed in shame. He would probably need some stitches. He resented his human nature which made him so frail. "In one week, you'll earn enough Good Boy Points. You know what happens then?"

Juuzou's stomach had twisted with uncertainty. Mother's 'rewards' had been extremely painful at first, but he had been told it was normal. Pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin, she had said. If you enjoy torturing people, you should enjoy getting tortured. Juuzou liked what he did some days. Fighting was fun. There are no 100% sadists and 100% masochists, just a blend of the two, she said.

The pain reminded him he was alive. It reminded him he was a survivor. It reminded him he had the power, and he would not end up as a dismembered piece of meat in a nameless ghoul's belly.

So Juuzou had nodded his head. Big Madam's meaty hand went to grab his genitals then, and she squeezed them. Juuzou twisted uncomfortably, a deep feeling of unease invading him, but she released them before doing any damage.

"Disgusting," she had snarled then, before storming off in a huff, her many necklaces and bracelets clinking in rhythm with her heels.

Was it so disgusting?

Why was Mother acting like this?

So now he was back in his damp cell, his neck collared and bound to the wall with a thick chain preventing him from escaping. Not that he could in the first place, with the bars of wrought iron barring his path.

He counted seconds, minutes and hours go, insomnia plaguing him. It would not be too long until the next dinner. He wondered who would be his opponent. He wondered if he had too feed again. Maybe next time the taste of blood would be better? Maybe the texture of the meat, the feel of the muscle on his tongue would be more bearable? Despite himself, his eyes closed and terrible dreams haunted him.

The scene he saw made no sense, since he could not remember having ever walked into a city. As far as he remembered he had been in a cell or killing people.

He was alone walking in the streets. Deserted streets as far as the eye can see. Huge towers sprawled overhead, the center of the Metropolis empty as no blue-collared workers poured out of the front gates of the many buildings.

So he walked up some steps leading to a raised platform from which a train usually runs, He somersaulted and performed a backflip and leapt over the barrier made of glass separating the platform from the tracks where the trains drive, and ran along the raised track. He passed over the sea, equilibrium from performing so many circus acts keeping him from falling to the azure depths below.

And he reached another platform, and another. The tenth time or so, he got off and walked some more. There; a person sitting at the station, on a bench, reading the newspaper. Juuzou tried to decipher the meaning but nobody had taught him to read.

"What is this?" he tried to ask but the only sounds coming out of his mouth were inarticulate growls. He touched his throat in terror and panic.

The man chuckled then, turning a page on the newspaper. After some time, he put it back on the bench and looked up.

"Why are you trying to speak? Understandable speech is only for humans. You don't need that. Juuzou is a good boy, right?"

And Big Madam's face replaced the faceless man's, a grin distorting their features and showing far too many teeth with crimson-coated enamel.

He woke up with a jolt, cold sweat drenching his shirt as uncontrollable shivers erupted and made phantom pain ache across his entire body.

His cell door rattled and he was roughly unfettered and pushed around by somebody of a tall stature and bulky. He was told he had ten minutes to prepare before the main course.

Juuzou fingered his knife as he waited anxiously for the dinner to start, excitement battling with fear filling him. The former was the thrill of the battle, of the bloodshed. The second was what would happen when he won (not if, never if). How many Good Boy Points would he earn? This brought another spike of desire when he thought about other stitchings adorning his body, but anxiety still filled him because the last discussion with Big Madam had triggered some alarm bells.

It was a maddening circle. These thoughts were broken when he entered the arena, and the discussion from the many customers seated with front-row seats to the massacre were whispering excitedly, glasses filled with red liquid sloshing as they clinked together. Toasts were made to Big Madam for being ever the gracious host and allowing the bloodlettings to occur uninterrupted. For escaping the CCG's ever vigilant actions.

She smiled coyly and fanned her face bashfully.

All discussion came to a halt, laughter being squashed, turned into arousal and excitement as the door was pushed open and a manackled man was brought in. Juuzou frowned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The man was old, with white hair. His face was peculiar, three symmetrical streaks across each cheek. He looked strong, though, which made Juuzou instantly on guard.

Juuzou was used to soft bodies shaking cravenly. This one was packing muscle aplenty. The man's face was apathetic as he observed the surroundings. Then his eyes locked with his and Juuzou took a step back when a potent… something clashed into him with the force of a tidal wave. His hand shook and he raised the knife to his throat as he saw thousands of ways to die in the stranger's blue eyes. This pressure, Juuzou could not take it. It was better to die.

End it now, die, die, die. It was better than feeling this.

Then the pressure was lifted and Juuzou collapsed on his knees, and bent over. He opened his mouth to throw up as his stomach churned and roiled like a storming sea, but no more puke left him as he had emptied the content in his cell.

The man had his attention elsewhere, Juuzou saw when he raised his head at last.

"Disgusting creatures. Bastards, the whole lot of you, 'ttebayo."

The ghouls booed and a male ghoul even threw a glass at him. The white-haired man shrugged and under all ghouls' and Juuzou's incredulous eyes, he spread his hands apart. The manacles, some kind of Quinque material reinforced steel, shattered. Juuzou did not know how much strength one needed to do this, but far superior than the average ghoul's at least.

He caught the glass mid-air, and crunched it in his hand, somehow managing not to cut the appendage. He picked up an elongated shard and, then, something weird happened. A buzzing sound like a whirlwind echoed mixed with a chainsaw, seemingly originating from his hand and the shard of glass. His arm blurred. The ghoul who had booed and thrown the glass of wine stopped shouting nasty words as him and his head exploded in a shower of gore.

Screams erupted and panic spread in the seats like wildfire, ghouls scrambling to escape. Juuzou's terrified wine-colored orbs met Big Madam's and she shouted at him to do something. What was Juuzou supposed to do against that?!

The man smirked and - and then the world did not make sense. Because there was not one white-haired, blue-eyed, streak-cheeked monster, there were hundreds of them, standing on the ceiling (what?!), on the walls (how did that even work?), in-between the ghouls.

Then it was a massacre.

Ghouls were torn apart like wet pieces of paper, heads flew. Then, the ghouls, realizing that trying to escape would only lead to their doom, tried to fight back. Something eerie happened then. One ghoul split another's skull in two with his Kagune. And this happened to dozens of ghouls simultaneously. It was almost as if the ghouls could not recognize friends from foe. And then… all the blue-eyed doppelgangers did weird hand movement and took the shape of the ones that had been killed and split in the entire room.

Not knowing whether the one beside you was a friend or a foe was disquieting. It gained him a few seconds before they realized that they could tell the fake ghouls apart by the smell. But the quantity of ghoul blood and innards spilt on the premises made this distinction very difficult.

Juuzou jolted when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Terror squeezed his insides, a nameless horror when the man's blue eyes locked with his. He did one more hand gesture with his right appendage and white feathers invaded his vision.

Juuzou felt sleepy after that. Almost as if he had not slept for days on end and a nap seemed nice right about now-

Naruto sighed as he carried the boy like he used to carry his son when he was younger, the reminiscence making him wince. He did not like to be reminded of his past, because it brought him back to his condition.

"Kyuubi, do you have nothing to say?"

The Youko snorted. "Pathetic. You get weaker as time goes. During your prime you could have blasted the whole room in less than one second. How the mighty have fallen."

"It's rich, coming from a beast who could crumble mountains with a sweep of its tail and cause Tsunami. Well, whatever," Naruto chuckled.

"Do not compare me to the likes of you. A Bijuudama and the whole continent would have been annihilated."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever 'tteba. I would remind you that there is an innocent boy, I couldn't go full blast." Naruto rolled his eyes, smirking when he heard roars of outrage in his mind, about why it should be worried about the fate of one insignificant amoeba.

Naruto looked down at the boy. He still did not know his name. Still, he seemed to unwittingly gather young boys into his folds, and - wait, did that not just make him sound like… what was his name, with the long tongue, pasty-ass face and boy-fetish; Hebimaru? Naruto couldn't remember. Still, to this day he shivered when he remembered the stories Sasuke told him.

No, it was more akin to this… Pokémon game? Gotta catch them all? So should he organize teams of six and make them fight other League Champions?

Naruto chuckled at the absurd thought. He held out his right hand and wind began to blow as chakra gathered in the palm. Soon enough, a Rasenshuuriken had formed, and Naruto grunted. It seemed gathering elemental chakra and fusing it into techniques was still causing him pain, but compared to before it was manageable. Almost as if his body was adapting. Evolving.

The Kyuubi, who had heard his thoughts, stayed suspiciously silent.

Naruto threw the improved version of the Rasenshuuriken at the center of the room and the only thing left of this place after he Shuunshin'ed out of there was a huge crater.

Answers to the reviews (thank you so much for writing, as always I enjoy reading what you think of the story :) ):

MyDogIsMabel: *slurp*

Guest: Thank you, it's quite fun writing it :)

Riba Nyabom: Well I still have lots of things to do IRL and a few stories to update so it's difficult but I'm trying, thanks for the review ^^

Heroaki: Hmm, maybe, I've been rushing a little to get the previous chapter done, just to get things flowing quicker, because sometimes I feel if I don't post, I never will, so sorry if there are shitty scenes haha, it's not on purpose I swear

Dasgun: ...? ...!

Issexwithyourcloneincest: He stopped phyisically aging when he reached the age of sixty, so the hair color is natural, just a sign of old age :)

Drakon45: Maybe, probably, yet again maybe not, or maybe not in the way you think of haha

Rio Skyron: "Who dares disturb my rest?!"

Thank you all for reading! I wish you belated happy Easter and take care of yourself and your precious people's (heh) health.

Mora :)