Naruto: The Chosen Undead

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Chapter 97 First Kill?!

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"Alright," Kakashi said, clapping his hands lightly to gather their attention. "But first, we need to prepare."

"Prepare how? Are we training tonight?" Naruto asked, casually setting Oscar near the fire where the lizard curled up happily, basking in the warmth.

"No. It's something more important. During this mission, you'll likely be exposed to your first kill. And most shinobi… freeze up when it happens."

Kakashi turned toward the unconscious Gozu. The weight of his words sank into the air like a stone; the casual atmosphere of the camp dissipating instantly. Sakura covered her mouth. Sasuke's expression hardened, while Naruto's grin faded into something more serious.

"S-Sensei," Sakura stammered, "can't we extract information from this guy? Interrogate him?"

"No," Kakashi said. "We can't take that risk. Even if we tried to interrogate him, he could lie, mislead us, or give us just enough false information to waste our time. People like him are trained for this. The most efficient way is to end it here—remove the head and send it back to Konoha. The Yamanaka Clan can extract the truth directly from his memories, no lies, no risks."

Sakura froze.

Naruto broke the silence, stepping forward and casually drawing his massive Zweihander. "Alright, I'll do it. This should be easy."

"Not you, Naruto," Kakashi said sharply. "You've already killed before. This isn't about you."

Naruto hesitated, then stepped back, sliding the blade onto his shoulder with a nod.

"I don't freeze at the sight of blood," Sasuke said simply. "I've seen enough of it. This won't bother me."

"I know you won't, Sasuke. That's not the point."

Sakura's breath hitched as Kakashi's gaze shifted to her.

"That leaves you, Sakura," Kakashi said, his tone gentle.

Her hands trembled at her sides as she stared at Gozu, her breathing uneven. "M-Me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But—Sensei, I… I can't…"

Kakashi stepped closer, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. "Sakura, you wanted to face the real world. This is part of it. The first kill is always the hardest. But you have to push through, or when the time comes and there's no one else, you'll freeze. And freezing in battle gets people killed."

Sakura's lips trembled as her gaze flicked to Naruto and Sasuke, both of whom were watching her silently. She could feel the pressure mounting, the weight of expectation crushing her. She clenched her fists, but her legs refused to move, her body frozen in place.

Kakashi stayed quiet, giving her the space to decide, but his presence loomed, steady and unmoving. The decision was hers to make.

Sakura's hands trembled as she reached into her pouch, pulling out a kunai. The polished metal caught the faint glow of the campfire, but her grip on the weapon was unsteady. Her knuckles had turned white from the effort, and her breathing came in shallow, uneven gasps. It felt like her chest couldn't expand fully, as though the weight of what she was about to do had wrapped itself around her lungs.

Each step toward Gozu felt like dragging iron weights behind her. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. The kunai trembled in her hand as she stared down at him—this man, this assassin, who had tried to kill Naruto and her team. His face was slack in unconsciousness, his head slumped forward against the ropes binding him to the tree.

This is right, she told herself, her thoughts spiraling. He's dangerous. He would've killed us if he had the chance. This is what shinobi do.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, her legs kept shaking. Her grip on the kunai felt fragile, like it could slip at any moment.

Behind her, Kakashi's calm, steady voice broke through the storm in her mind. "Take your time, Sakura. But remember: it's him or us. People like him won't hesitate. If you freeze when it matters, you're not just putting yourself at risk—you're putting your team at risk."

Her fingers tightened instinctively around the kunai, but it felt heavier now, like it was pulling her down. Her throat was dry, and she realized she hadn't taken a proper breath in several seconds. She forced herself to inhale, the sound shaky and uneven.

Crouching slowly, she brought the blade to Gozu's throat. The sharp edge glinted in the firelight, and her eyes darted over his features—the rough lines of his face, the blood crusted at the corner of his mouth, the faint rise and fall of his chest. He looked… human. And that made it so much harder.

Her hand froze.

"Do it, Sakura," Kakashi said softly, his tone firm but not harsh. "This man is a killer. If you hesitate now, what happens when the next one comes after your teammates? What happens when it's Naruto or Sasuke on the ground because you froze?"

Her stomach churned violently. She clenched her teeth, tears brimming in her eyes as she pressed the blade against his neck.

It's him or us, she repeated in her head, over and over again.

Finally, she pushed.

The blade pierced his throat, but her angle was wrong—hesitant. Blood spurted from the wound, warm and sticky against her hands. Gozu's eyes snapped open, wide and panicked, and Sakura froze in horror.

His body jerked violently, a horrible gurgling sound escaping his throat as he struggled against the ropes binding him to the tree. His wild eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, her fear surged into full-blown terror.

He thrashed, the ropes creaking under the strain, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak—but all that came out was a wet, choking sound.

"Sakura, move!" Kakashi barked, his voice sharp like a kunai slicing through the tension.

Her body moved on pure instinct, her mind blank as she raised the kunai again. With trembling hands, she plunged it into his neck, this time driving it deep. Gozu's body spasmed once, then slumped forward, completely limp.

Sakura stared at him, her breathing ragged, her hands locked around the bloodied kunai. Her vision blurred as tears spilled freely down her face, and she let the weapon fall to the dirt with a soft thud.

"I… I didn't mean for him to wake up," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean for it to… to happen like that."

Kakashi crouched beside her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "It's never clean," he said quietly. "It's never easy. That's the truth of this life. But you acted. You didn't freeze when it mattered, and because of that, you're still here. Your team is still here."

She stared at her bloodied hands, her body trembling. "He… he looked at me, Sensei. Like he hated me."

Kakashi shook his head. "That wasn't hate, Sakura. That was instinct. The moment he woke up, he was thinking of how to kill you. He wouldn't have hesitated." He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "This wasn't about him. It's about you and your team. It's us or them. And you made the right choice."

Sakura sniffled, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve, smearing blood across her cheek. Her legs felt like they would give out, but Kakashi's hand kept her steady.

"You'll carry this with you," he said softly. "We all do. But that weight? It means you care. And as long as you care, you'll be stronger for it."

Sakura nodded shakily, though her tears still flowed freely. "I… I think I'm going to be sick."

Kakashi gave her a faint smile, helping her to her feet. "That's normal. It gets easier with time."

Naruto and Sasuke watched silently from a distance. Sasuke's expression was impassive, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Naruto's face, however, was softer, his usual energy subdued. He stepped forward and wrapped Sakura in a firm hug.

"Don't feel guilty," Sasuke said bluntly, stepping closer. "They wouldn't, if it were you in their place."

Sakura nodded against Naruto's chest, her tears breaking into quiet sobs. Naruto glared at Sasuke but said nothing, just holding Sakura tightly. After a moment, Sasuke sighed and placed a hand on her back, awkwardly joining the embrace.

From a distance, Tazuna watched the scene with wide eyes. He took a shaky swig of his alcohol, muttering under his breath, "Ninjas are scary."

Meanwhile, Kakashi finished sealing Gozu's head into a scroll and summoned a ninken to carry it back to Konoha. Standing, he glanced back at his team. "Alright, you three. Let me teach you how to hide a body."

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The Land of Waves was a place of contrasts—hidden beauty drowning in creeping despair. Deep within the dense forest, a hideout had been constructed like a nest, a labyrinth of wooden walkways and rope bridges winding through towering trees. From the outside, it seemed to blend seamlessly into the forest, an extension of the canopy itself.

Gatō strode through the main chamber, his stubby legs carrying him with an air of false confidence. His shaggy brown hair was slick with the humidity, and his small, circular black glasses slid down his sweaty nose. He tugged at his purple tie, his yellow shirt already stained with damp spots. Behind him, two towering bodyguards followed silently, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons, eyes scanning for any unseen threats.

The interior was lit by lanterns crafted from polished iron and thick glass, their light flickering across the rough wooden walls. In the center of the room, lounging on the most expensive couch Gatō could buy, was Zabuza Momochi.

The Demon of the Mist was a towering figure of muscle and menace. His light grayish skin seemed almost ghostly in the low light, and his spiky black hair cast jagged shadows across the walls. Dark brown eyes stared half-lidded at nothing in particular, and the bandages covering the lower half of his face hid whatever expression might have been there. Yet the aura he radiated left no doubt—this was a predator resting between kills, calm and utterly lethal.

"Zabuza," Gatō said, forcing a smile as he stepped closer. "I assume you've been enjoying my hospitality?"

Zabuza didn't even glance his way. The silence stretched, and Gatō's forced grin began to twitch. His irritation bubbled beneath the surface, but before he could speak again, a soft voice interrupted.

"Zabuza-sama."

The voice was calm, almost gentle, yet carried an undertone of quiet strength. From the shadows emerged Haku, moving with an elegance that made his every step seem deliberate. His long black hair shimmered faintly in the dim light, gathered neatly in a white bun holder, while two loose strands framed his delicate face. His large, dark-brown eyes, pale skin, and slender frame gave him an ethereal beauty, but there was a sharpness in his gaze—subtle, but unmistakable.

Haku carried two candles crafted from Dorian Wax, a rare substance created by blending the oil of sea-slicked reeds from the coastal marshlands of Kirigakure with the blood of the person they were bound to. The wax was carefully infused with yang chakra, creating a tether between the candle and the life force of its owner. As long as the person remained alive, the flame would burn steadily.

"Zabuza-sama. The flames have gone out. Meizu and Gozu… are dead."

Zabuza sighed, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a motion that felt more dismissive than mournful. "Tch. Those fools couldn't even stay alive long enough to be useful."

"What do you mean?" Gatō snapped. "Are you saying your subordinates were killed? By who?"

Zabuza's gaze locked onto the tycoon with enough weight to make him falter.

"By the shinobi guarding that bridge builder."

Gatō's face flushed red with anger. "What the hell am I paying you for if you can't even handle—"

The room changed.

Zabuza's killer intent seeped into the space like a creeping fog, clinging to their skin and filling their lungs, heavy and inescapable. It was the presence of a predator, not coiling like a snake but stalking like a shadow—a demon born of the mist, silent and suffocating.

Gatō took a stumbling step back, his face pale, sweat pouring down his temples. His bodyguards stiffened behind him, their hands twitching toward their weapons, but the unspoken truth in the room was clear—no weapon could protect them from the man in front of them.

"What… what are you going to do now?"

Zabuza rested his hand on the hilt of his blade. The faint scrape of Kubikiribōchō against the floor filled the silence.

"What I always do."

He rose to his full height, towering over the room as the lantern light cast jagged shadows across his bandaged face. His grip tightened on the hilt of the Executioner's Blade, its massive form glinting faintly in the dim light.

"They're just another obstacle. Just more corpses waiting to fall."

He took a step forward, the weight of his presence suffocating.

"I'll silence them," Zabuza said. "Swiftly or painfully, it doesn't matter. By the time I'm finished, the only trace they'll leave behind…will be the blood-soaked mist that carries their screams."

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[ Personal Note: First off, thanks a ton to all of you for sticking with this story. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Now, if you're interested in supporting me on P@treon, let me just say that over there, I post these massive 5k-word chapters. But heads up, if you're jumping to P@treon, you'll need to start from Chapter 48, since that's where this chapter lines up with the content there.

To everyone here just reading along, please don't forget to leave a comment! Honestly, your comments make my day, and they let me know you're as invested in this story as I am. So yeah, thanks again, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day!