Naruto: The Doll That Killed Them All
Chapter 2: The Drum's Second Beat
Konoha's streets pulsed with unease, whispers threading through every alley, every shop, every training ground. Riku's brutal death was no longer a quiet tragedy — it was wildfire.
Tsunade lingered near the archive, sweat slicking her forehead despite the cool morning breeze. Her fingers trembled as she traced the spine of a ledger, mind racing. Riku's body… that blood… Hana's scream still echoed in her head.
I spun that doll's key, she thought, chest tightening. Was it me?
She gritted her teeth, kicking a loose pebble across the path. No. That's crazy. Toys don't kill.
But deep inside, a splinter of doubt twisted. The monkey doll's beady painted eyes haunted her memory.
What she didn't know was that the doll was already gone — snatched from the archive's chaos by a greedy hand.
---
The doll now sat quietly in the dirt along one of Konoha's trade routes, its painted grin catching the pale dawn light.
The thief — a wiry rogue named Jiro — had been curious, twisting the doll's key with a smirk. That smirk vanished in a strangled cry as a sudden surge of chakra crushed his lungs, his body imploding inward with a grotesque crackle.
Inside the doll's wooden shell, Kaito's trapped soul giggled darkly. Too fast, no fun! he thought, vicious glee coiling around his words. Need more Senju… more screams!
The doll's key glinted faintly, humming, hungry for a new hand.
---
Ten-year-old Senju Miro skipped along the path, his mother's errand long forgotten. With sharp cheekbones and silver-white eyes echoing Tobirama's features, Miro hummed a childish tune, kicking at stones.
His gaze snagged on the doll lying ahead — drumsticks raised as if mid-beat.
"Cool toy!" he chirped, scooping it up. His small fingers eagerly turned the key.
The drumsticks tapped once. Thump-thump.
Inside the shell, Kaito's voice sang, twisted and childish:
Spin the key, bang the drum, another fool will come undone!
---
Nearby, Senju Elder Goro, once a trusted comrade of Tobirama, walked calmly through the training ground, his hand firm on his son Tetsuo's shoulder.
"You'll carry the Senju name proudly," Goro said, voice heavy with pride.
Sixteen-year-old Tetsuo nodded sharply. I'll make Father proud, he vowed silently.
But Kaito's soul had already marked them, the bloodline call too strong to resist.
Old man… time's up, Kaito whispered, the doll's drum quickening.
---
Miro, oblivious, spun the key again.
The air snapped tight, a surge only Kaito could sense.
Goro's steps faltered — his breath hitched — his face twisted in sudden panic.
"Father?" Tetsuo murmured, confused.
A wet rip echoed.
Goro's skin split down the chest as if sliced by invisible blades. Blood sprayed in a horrible arc as his torso peeled apart, organs slumping free in a sloshing heap. His arms shredded, unraveling at the muscle and bone, splattering across Tetsuo's shocked face.
His scream came too late — his skull cracked, collapsing with a final, wet crunch.
Tetsuo wailed, knees buckling. No… his mind reeled, we were just… His hands dug desperately into the gory remains. Father…
Inside the doll, Kaito cackled. Such a red fountain! Kid's crying like a baby! Next game!
Miro froze, the doll slipping from his trembling hands, clattering to the dirt. His wide eyes stared at the carnage. What… what happened? I just… played with it…
Before anyone noticed, the doll flickered, cursed chakra whisking it to another place, leaving Miro sobbing in the dust.
---
Chunin swarmed the scene.
"Goro's dead!" one barked, staring in horror at the gore.
Senju Kenta, an elder with lined features, crouched beside the ruined body. His fingers hovered over the bloodied ground, sensing the leftover chakra.
"A cursed seal gone wild," he muttered. "Maybe one of Tobirama's old experiments."
Nearby, whispers bloomed — talk of Kiri assassins, rogue jutsu, or vengeful spirits.
No one noticed the toy Miro had dropped.
---
Tsunade arrived moments later, heart pounding as she caught pieces of the report. Her gut twisted as she imagined Goro's shredded corpse.
Like Riku… her mind raced, the image of the doll's key flashing in her thoughts. It can't be… can it?
She clenched her fists so tightly her nails bit into her palms.
Orochimaru's sharp gaze flicked toward her. "What's wrong, Tsunade?" he asked softly, curiosity flickering in his golden eyes.
She's hiding something, he mused, intrigued.
Tsunade forced a stiff shake of her head, masking her fear. But inside, doubt churned like a storm.
I need to find that doll… before it happens again.
But part of her still whispered: What if I'm wrong? What if it's just me?
---
Miles away, the doll reappeared in a narrow Konoha alley. A scavenger, having plucked it from the roadside, had spun the key out of greed. Moments later, he was gone — sucked into a sudden chakra sinkhole, leaving behind only scraps and dust.
Kaito's soul pulsed impatiently. Boring! Need more Senju screams.
Under the flicker of a lantern, the doll's key glinted, waiting.
Soft footsteps approached — Senju Lila, a wide-eyed nine-year-old, her tiny fingers brushing the drum doll's smooth surface.
Pretty, she thought, smiling faintly, unaware of the curse curling beneath her touch.
---
Back at the Senju compound, the elders gathered in hushed urgency.
"Riku. Goro. This isn't coincidence," Kenta muttered, rubbing his temples.
A grim-faced jounin suggested Kiri assassins, their infamous chakra traps.
"Or a traitor," another murmured darkly, glancing over their shoulders.
No one, not a single mind, considered the small wooden doll — the silent killer — slipping unnoticed from hand to hand.
---
Outside, Tsunade clenched her jaw as she listened from the shadows.
They don't know, her thoughts raced. But I saw it. I felt it.
She set her jaw, determination surging. I need to search the archive again.
What she didn't know was that the doll had already moved on.
---
In the alley, Kaito's soul throbbed with glee. Tobirama's blood, his precious legacy — they'll all break.
His childish rage twisted with hunger, the memory of cold experiments and lab pain driving him forward.
More players, more red!
Tetsuo's wailing grief echoed faintly in Kaito's mind, delicious but fleeting.
Louder next time, he promised himself, ignoring the boy's shattered heart.
The doll sat perfectly still under the dim light, its painted grin unchanging.
Lila's small fingers closed around the key.
The drum waited.
Ready to thump again.