Naruto: Chronicles of the Lost Library

The room wasn't anything special. Four ugly-ass corners. Walls black as rot. Another hallway that reeked like piss and fire and old regrets.

Naruto leaned on the wall, panting like a dying animal. His leg still screamed like hell. Blood crusted under the wrappings. His hand burned from that stupid glyph two chambers back.

But screw all that.

In the center of the room was the reason.

A scroll.

Sitting on some half-melted stone slab like it wanted to be worshipped. Looked older than dirt. Burned along the edges. Black ink oozing like it was trying to bleed itself to death.

One word still left on the cover.

Mission.

Naruto stepped closer. The damn thing felt heavier than the air. Not chakra-heavy. Just soul-heavy. Like it ate too many people's pain and never puked it back out.

His fingers shook when he cracked it open.

No voice. No vision. Just blood-colored ink.

Kazuki's handwriting.

Ugly. Sharp. Furious. Like he was half-sane while writing this. Maybe after murdering something. Or someone.

Mission Report — F339.

Target: Village near the Southern Ridge.

Status: Eradicated.

Naruto blinked.

What the hell?

He read on.

Initial flame distortion found.

Civilian chakra was messed up.

Confirmed infection from Echo Remnants — probably from Channel 2's collapse.

Containment failed.

No help. No orders. Just silence.

Then the next line —

I burned it.

That was it.

Naruto just stared.

The ink didn't move. Didn't dance. Didn't cry. Just sat there. Dry. Guilty. Honest.

Next page.

They were coughing blood when we got there. Screaming in their sleep.

Kids had burns they didn't remember. One guy clawed his own damn eyes out because he said the fire behind his lids was talking to him.

Naruto's throat tightened.

I had two options.

Let it spread.

Or kill them.

So I lit the fire.

I told myself it was mercy.

Still do.

But truth is?

I just didn't want to sit there and watch them rot.

Naruto's hands shook now. The scroll crinkled under his grip.

This wasn't a villain's letter. This was a guy trying not to go fucking insane.

Next page.

The Library lied.

It always lies.

It gives you questions. Never answers.

Says there's hope. Then punches you in the throat for looking.

I kept going 'cause I thought I was important.

Thought I was chosen.

Thought I mattered.

Bullshit.

All I got was ash.

Each word felt like it was being carved into Naruto's ribs.

All this crawling, all the blood, every loop, every damn lie — for what?

Some dead man's breakdown in blood and regrets?

He was done with this place.

Done with whispering ghosts and guilt traps.

Final line at the bottom. Sloppy. Faded.

I knew it'd never save us.

I just didn't want to die alone.

Silence hit like a slap.

Naruto sat on the cold floor, arms over his knees, staring up at the cracked ceiling like it owed him an apology.

What the fuck was he even doing anymore?

Reading suicide notes from dead men stronger than him?

This place wasn't some sacred test. It was a graveyard for the dumbasses who thought they were different.

He closed the scroll gently. Like it might explode if he touched it wrong.

And yet — he stood.

Still breathing. Still bleeding. Still moving.

Because fuck this place. Fuck giving up.

Kazuki wasn't some monster. He was a warning with a face. A loud one.

Naruto didn't wanna end like him — burning himself up trying to protect people already dead.

But maybe... maybe Kazuki wasn't broken.

Maybe he left this behind as a dare.

And Naruto?

He was still dumb enough to take it.

The wall beside the pedestal lit up, just barely. Like someone slapped the stone with guilt.

Another door. Another joke. Another round of this asshole bullshit.

Naruto limped toward it, scroll tucked under his arm like a wound that wouldn't close.

"I don't want answers," he growled. "I want the next fucking lie."

The door opened.

And the Library, for once, didn't try to stop him.