Osamu Uzumaki/Mission Journal

## C-Rank Missions

### Menial Exterminator

When the board of elders had entrusted Osam with a mission, he'd allowed himself to get excited for a moment before reality sank in, for although his pleas would be answered, they were merely platitudes.

Osamu had hoped for a proper B-Rank Mission to get his blood thumping real good, but instead, he was given a simple mission to defeat a desert scorpion; a task that he was highly overqualified for. Osamu made his disagreement known in a polite and dignified way.

"Oi, you bunch of wrinkled horsedicks! What's the big idea? I'm a champ is what I am. Now look here you scrumptious... cockwaddlers, this is an outrage cause... FUCKDICKS!"

Perhaps if the elders understood half of what he was even saying they'd have been more offended by these expletives but as it currently stood, they only exchanged blank stares and waved him off with exasperated sighs. Fortunately, Osamu took it in stride.

"Lissen here you miserable polkadots! I want to conquer a village, imma be Osamu the CONQUEROR you losers, bet I can whoop your ass you dickwooves! --Put me down you bastards imma slap somebody!"

A couple of hours later, Osamu nonetheless found himself outside the Desert Scorpions cave in full ANBU uniform and feeling mighty silly. This kind of nonsense was generally something that you sent more experienced for after all, and here Sunagakure had sent no less than four ANBU operatives to deal with it including himself. Osamu was there to deal with the scorpion while the remaining operatives were there largely to watch over him and ensure he didn't do anything unauthorized like enjoy himself.

It was the story of his life played on repeat forever, whatever he did and no matter how much of a fuzz he made the result was always empty concessions like this. They gave him a modicum of breathing room under strict conditions that only reinforced their stranglehold on his life.

Given the sheer fuzz they made over the ordeal, it was over in an instant and as soon as it arrived, Osamu dashed forwards and killed it instantly by eviscerating it with blades of wind that tore free of his form as he waved his arm through the air to excite it. Afterwards both he and his babysitters left unceremoniously.

## B-Rank Missions

### Defending the Border: Western

"Let me go you cockwaddling ballsaddlers!"

Osamu Uzumaki had been rudely woken up in the middle of the night, and his two boyfriends had been told to get dressed and leave as he was pulled out onto the street by the ANBU Team that he was assigned to. As always he was the very example of decorum and cooperation as he was dragged literally kicking and screaming by his legs by two members of the team. Osamu's nails were elongated, and a feral cast in his green eyes revealed that he had entered his initial transformed state. Which he tended to do on instinct whenever Osamu felt particularly disagreeable, which was practically always when he was dealing with his babysitters.

It might seem a tad counterintuitive given how he was always asking for the chance to participate in dangerous missions. Still, he wanted to participate not as the Seven-Tailed Beetle's Jinchuriki but on his own merits as a proud shinobi of Sunagakure. To him, there were two kinds of missions, the kind that saw him rewarded justly for being a shinobi and the kind where the village elders sought to utilize him as a tool to fix their mistakes or simply to make a point in their favour. After putting up with such things for twenty years, Osamu had learned to appreciate which was which.

Like most in his position, Osamu had not had an easy life by any means, he had been reviled, mistreated and ostracized practically from birth due to the monster inside of him. They'd treated him like crap, nearly kicked him in the nuts every single day of his life and yet they expected him to behave and be their pet whenever a situation arose that they couldn't handle. Which was more and more these days as Sunagakure did not stand as strong as other great shinobi nations, it never had.

"Don't resist us, Osamu-sama. We must protect our borders, or we'll endanger the village, don't you want to prove your worth as a shinobi?"

There it was again, the sama honorific that was at a glance a sign of genuine respect but in this case, it was merely a way for them to distance themselves from him, to mark him as an outsider to be respected at a safe distance. Yet he could not argue with them, as usual. So he stopped thrashing about and quietly resigned himself to the fact that tonight marked another night where he was to be used for what was inside him rather than employed as a respected ninja of the Hidden Sand.

As they departed the village Osamu quietly glared daggers at his escorts and once again entertained the thought of abandoning the town that had never wanted him in the first place. Still, he was no fool, the world was a dangerous place for most but for him in particular. Without the backing of a village, he was exposed to the countless forces that would harm him for what he carried within. Even were he to turn himself over to another village, he faced a high likelihood that they would seek to extract the Seven Tails and seal it into one of their own rather than risk his continued survival.

No his only chance lay with Sunagakure, and he would be trapped there for the rest of his life, and he'd always be forced to participate in missions like these. He knew what the logs said about him after all, he was after all a member of the ANBU, so they'd kept his identity concealed as best they could. However, one of these days, the secret was sure to spill as his abilities were easily recognizable by any shinobi with a smattering of intelligence and a brain.

They reached the western outpost by midday, and the din of battle was easily audible in the desert silence. Attacks on the outposts like these were not uncommon, whether rivalling shinobi villages, ruffians or other rogue elements, all of them shared an interest in these mini-fortresses. Under ordinary circumstances, they could hold a while but from what he'd been told this was all part of a grander ploy on behalf of some group of insurgents that he at present could not really name.

It would seem they were primarily composed of regular people with a couple missing-nin brought in as mercenaries or even former Suna shinobi. The Land of Wind had always had issues with internal stability, given the sheer scarcity of resources and times were difficult at present. Osamu hoped that the men and women he'd fight tonight were of the vilest sort who only did this for financial gain and not out of any real consideration for friends or families.

Even Osamu, hardly the sharpest tool in any shed could tell that this was at best a pointless hope. Yet a weapon had to do what a weapon must, mainly if he wanted to live and feel like he was of use to his village, however much the higher-ups abused his trust.

Osamu had not trained his chakra volume in years, there had simply never been a need to for that was the most significant benefit afforded to him by being a Jinchuriki. His reserves were practically limitless once he drew upon the powers of the Seven-Tailed Beetle, and that was what he did in this instance. Osamu kneaded chakra in his stomach and exhaled it while swiftly forming the Bird seal culminating in a bursting wall of wind that fanned the desert sands into a raging frenzy and crashed in between the opposing forces. Sending men and women hurtling through the air as the sheer force of the wind pressure dashed them against stone and soil.

Afterwards, his ANBU babysitters launched themselves into the fray as Osamu channelled Wind-natured chakra through several strings of Shuriken to cause them to levitate and after that manipulated them seamlessly at will. Osamu's Shurikenjutsu had always been something he practised once in a while, he was never really that exceptional with it. Still, his Affinity for Wind was quite powerful, owing mainly to the fact that his Tailed Beats shared it.

As Osamu dashed into the fray, his Shuriken moved with him and was launched in succession with flawless precision and at tremendous speeds, robust flows channelled along the edges and unleashed with such strength that it cut straight through blade, flesh and bone. It was over quickly, Osamu had performed a great many Jutsu in quick succession and even though he'd struggled to spare those, he could his babysitters either captured or plainly executed those who remained, mainly if they'd witnessed what he could do.

### Defending the Border: Eastern

After the massacre at the Western Borderguard Osamu felt sick to his stomach as he often did, he was at his core a good-natured soul and being clandestinely used as a blade in the dark sat poorly with the young man. He'd prefer to get a good nights rest before passing on. Osamu's caretakers had an excellent understanding of his limits as a Jinchuriki as well as the countless possibilities and boons it afforded him, and indeed how to best turn those things to their advantage or more specifically the advantage of the decrepit board of elders that presently controlled Sunagakure.

One of his attendants, a rather handsome man by the name of Uro spoke to him then: "Take a moment to get your act together, Osamu-sama but we cannot afford to dawdle around that much longer."

Fuinjutsu was Uro's speciality, and he shared his post of Jinchuriki-watching with another that he alternated with since the village was loath to leave Osamu's fate to chance in any way especially since the Seven-Tailed Beetle had promised destruction on the town, which Osamu knew better than most as it had told him in person.

The Tailed Beast inside him was an eccentric fellow, and when he first met him, he'd almost been tricked into loosening the seal due to how unexpectedly jovial it was. But he'd wisened up at the last moment and pulled away just before doing so, and in a moment of rage, it had revealed its true intentions.

It was its strange and unusual mannerisms that had resulted in the premature death of several previous Jinchuriki for it was not overtly hostile like some of their kind, and it used that to manipulate the expectations of those it was sealed into. Osamu had long since learned to fear it, however. Even if it gave him power beyond his wildest dreams, it still had every intention of consuming his body and soul and use him as a vessel to annihilate everyone and everything that he loved. Some threats were overt, others spoke in high-pitched tones and remarked how "lucky" the world was.

Despite its claims, it never hesitated to share its power with him and always encouraged him to go just a little bit further. Osamu had complied more than once, under strict supervision, the village was all too helpful in those moments since it improved his value as a weapon considerably. His talents were now considerable enough that he could enter and maintain his initial version one Jinchuriki state without any issues whatsoever which he tended to do while masked by his uniform. He'd only recently learned to form more tails as well, coupled with his growing proficiency and mastery of Wind Release Ninjutsu his powers as a shinobi and first and foremost as a Jinchuriki were advancing at a reasonable pace.

The pause ended, and he and his babysitter dashed out into the desert to make their way to the eastern outpost which had also requested backup owing to those very rebels. If Osamu didn't know any better, he'd say the Wind Daimyo was totally incompetent to be letting so much unrest thrive in his lands. Not that the young man couldn't empathize with his detractors, however, after all the excellent Daimyo was a big part of why he was used in this manner. It was a way for a tiny man to do big things.

Enroute as he ran he allowed himself to ebb away into the depths of himself to meet with the Seven-Tailed Beetle once again. It resided in a vast cavern inside him separated from the outside world by an extravagant web of golden threads forming the esoteric symbols of the Uzumaki Clan. It was a seal of the highest order, one that could only have been made by a dedicated master who perfected his craft over decades.

"Ohayooo~lucky landlord-samaaaa! So nice of you to drop by and say hi to little old me: are you eating your vegetables, we need vegetables to eat. Lotsa them otherwise we won't get strong don'tcha know!"

No matter how many times he met the Seven-Tails, the young Uzumaki was always taken aback by its personality which stood in stark contrast to what one would think of it by listening to the stories told of it and the destruction it caused. It was just so bizarre for a creature like that to communicate in such a nonchalant and happy manner, especially considering that it was very much a prisoner.

He'd not truly gone down here for any specific purpose, it was just a place he went when Osamu needed time to think and it helped put it all into perspective when he could see the Seven-Tailed Beetle so clearly through the webbing that separated them.

It took several hours for them to reach their second destination, the eastern outpost and just like the western one it was currently under attack. Still, unlike the other outpost, these ones seemed far more severe as Osamu could see flashes of lightning, smoke from spontaneously erupting fires and most telling of all crashing waves emerging from thin air in the middle of the desert no less. These it seemed were shinobi of indeterminate rank and skill although merely being able to perform Nature Transformation meant that they most likely weren't Genin.

Quickly Osamu employed the Rotating Shuriken Technique and unleashed volleys upon volleys to cower his ANBU allies as they sprang into action. At the same time, Osamu began kneading chakra in his stomach and focused it all into a singular point within his mouth before he performed the necessary sequence of hand seals and spat it out towards an approaching group of enemy shinobi.

It burst forth as a thinly-compressed white sphere of raging air currents wrapped tightly in a ball; employing their own rotation and power to increase friction and the build-up of energy. He could tell by his foes that they were ninja of lesser skill and reflexes as they did not avoid the blast when it landed amidst them, mistaking its real purpose.

Yet the instant it made contact with the ground it expanded in a shrill cacophonous roar like a contained hurricane suddenly unleashed with tremendous force, limbs were torn apart and bodies flung about like ragdolls at Osamu's masterful performance of the Wind Release: Pressure Damage Technique.

Afterwards, he performed it again, and again until several craters littered the grounds and he had made sure at the ANBU-Team's request that each one who saw him do this was executed. Ordinarily, a Shinobi could only perform one of these, but he could perform several with ease due to the Tailed Beast's immense chakra.

About half an hour later, it was all over.

## A-Rank Missions

### Blood in the Night

More than a month had already passed since Osamu's fateful encounter with the mysterious stranger and his failure at assassinating Satomi. Despite his efforts, his target had escaped safely along with her skilled bodyguard, the first one to have ever successfully bested him if not in combat then indeed spirit and intelligence. It was not something that the Jinchūriki could tolerate for he'd based his life on being invincible, wasn't that the whole point of people like him? What was he supposed to do about rude opponents who fled from him and refused to be squashed until he'd sprung their trap?

To most shinobi losses and setbacks were common facts of the trade and a mission could be considered in part a success if everyone had made it back alive. Indeed, a failed mission harmed their reputation and angered clients the shinobi that served the village were ultimately the most critical resources of all. It was because of his success on that front that he had been promoted they said, but Osamu knew better, he'd been promoted because his last attack had made his secret blatantly obvious. It wasn't like he was altogether that well-suited to serve in the ANBU in the first place with his extremely loud and flamboyant Ninjutsu.

Osamu had never lost a battle before in any aspect. Tactics had never mattered because he defeated his opponent in an instant through his mastery of the overtly destructive Wind Release techniques that he'd always favoured. His perfect record had been shattered, and that made the young man doubt himself, if only slightly, if only he had more power if only he knew who that person even was!

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfucked-fuck-fuck-FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! Who was that sand scorched rotsteaked dickwheedler!"

He smacked his head in the table out of sheer frustration as he screamed with an intensity that startled cats and dogs all over the neighbourhood which scattered to and fro at the sound of his yell.

Wait.. cats.. dogs? There were none of those around these parts, the climate of Sunagakure was too harsh for them to live outside the way they otherwise might in places like Konohagakure or Iwagakure. Even though there were a few, they always remained indoors during this time of day because of the sandstorms that often rustled through the city streets.

It was quiet. Ordinarily, this wasn't exactly cause for concern, but under these circumstances, Osamu could not shake off the feeling that something was terribly wrong in some way or other. This was not the *nothing at all is happening right now* kind of quiet but the *time to die while screaming horribly* sort of quiet.

His suspicions were immediately confirmed as iron flashed in his peripheral vision, a kunai with an explosive tag attached flew in through his window and exploded with tremendous force!

In an instant, he had reacted; three pairs of golden wings formed instantly at his lower back and whisked him away to safety with such explosive speed that he swiftly outran the ensuing explosion. It was fortunate that he had mastered the use of his wings in the past few weeks or this stunt of alacrity would still have been beyond him. Sweeping up past buildings and into the air, Osamu looked down at the city below him and noticed fires and chaos in the streets. At the same time, large groups of darkly garbed individuals rapidly advanced towards the palace where the council of elders resided. It did not take a genius to figure out what they were after.

The cold night air was lit up by flashes of lightning, peals of thunder and balls of fire as the invaders had drawn the ire of more than just the towns Jinchuriki at this point. As one would expect when they resorted to acts of terrorism by throwing explosive kunai through the windows of sleeping shinobi, it was almost like they wanted to be noticed. Perhaps that was indeed the case, what else would the point be to terrorism, to upend the status quo and the trappings of power in the Land of Wind, as flawed as it was, Osamu could understand why some desperate sods would stoop to such lows to get their point across. He held no respect for their methods, but he knew what pain felt like, he knew what it was to not be heard nor seen.

Nevertheless, they had made the mistake of attacking his home, his house and his beloved man cave and NO ONE got away with defiling his already defiled mancave. It was the only place in the entire world that was well and truly his, he'd worked his butt off for years to buy it so that he could have something to attribute to himself for once as everything else had been handed to him. Even his abilities were in massive part a result of the Seven-Tailed Beetle's influence and only belonged to Osamu in part.

He paused for a moment to look down at his burning home, it was painful to look at even though he knew he had the funds and connections necessary to rebuild it. Osamu felt almost violated by the experience, and he vowed to take revenge at once, and he did so by forming the Clone seal.

"Shadow Clone Technique!"

It was not strictly necessary to announce it by any means, but in his current mood, he felt like screaming anyway, so it suited the young man perfectly.

When most regular Jonin performed the Shadow Clone Technique, they usually created only a single clone due to the sheer expenditure of chakra it required and how its efficiency sharply dropped per additional clone. Yet as with most things in life, Osamu was a big exception for he could safely and effectively create four clones at once and have them each maintain reserves that equalled or even surpassed the average Jonin. Each was alone given a hefty amount of the Seven-Tailed Beetle's power to increase their abilities even more than usual. And of course, they also carried their own trusty Giant Folding Fans to increase the usefulness of their already powerful Ninjutsu.

Once they were summoned, they each looked at the smouldering ruins of their former home and roared in anger. Matching pitch and volume to one another like some bizarre orchestra of righteously manly rage.

Spurred on by these shared feelings, Osamu and his clones scattered across the sky, carried upon golden wings that allowed them to streak through the airspace at speeds incomparable to anyone else he knew. Each had the same objective, to attack the rebels that had entered the city unlawfully and were now making life difficult for their fellow citizens and Osamu in particular.

Although initially a technique designed for recognizance and espionage in dangerous territory, such as behind enemy lines, the Shadow Clone Technique was incredibly potent when combined with reserves of chakra like what Osamu possessed. And particularly so when the clones could not only fly at dizzying speeds but also possessed powerful long-range Ninjutsu. Despite appearances, Osamu was never about fighting fair, he was well aware of his most significant advantages, and this carried over to his clones as well.

He and they preferred hit-and-run tactics, and as groups of enemies made their way towards the palace, they were time and again forced to retreat and regroup as one of his clones zoomed through the air with the fan in hand to unleash powerful blasts of wind upon the streets below them. Scattering forces, disorienting fighters and leaving them stunned and confused to be ripe for the picking once Osamu's other allies arrived to finish them off, assuming that the clones didn't get carried away and ended up doing it themselves, of course.

Fighting in the middle of Sunagakure proper was a hassle, however, as he did not want to damage any of the buildings through his usual techniques. Which significantly reduced the amount of damage that he might do to the enemy which he supposed had featured prominently in whatever scheme they'd hatched to get them this far.

They had plainly underestimated his speed and aerial mastery however or more likely they were entirely unaware of the sheer extent of his progress in the last couple months, it had been a while since he last fought their organization after all, and when he had he had been a wholly different man altogether, a man who had to do the ridiculous thing of actually manually forming the Hand Seals for his favourite techniques each time he wanted to use them. The Clones buzzed to and fro with such speed that it seemed like they were several places at once to the insurgents, blocking every alternate route they found preemptively due to their superior sense of the surroundings and knowledge of the lay of the land.

Osamu meanwhile settled for watching the spectacle unfold while he looked for what he believed to be the ringleader of the operation, it would only be sensible to take out the head. At least that was what he'd been taught at the Academy back in the day.

The bearer of the Seven-Tails found his target soon enough and plunged down from the sky towards him and the entourage of followers that trailed after him, and while in mid-air he altered his tactics and decided to utilize lethal force of a more modest scope than he usually did, as much as it pained him to do so. He was already kneading and sharpening his chakra as he descended, splitting it into two equal halves and refining it against itself like a millstone to hone it into thin and precise blades of wind. Then he swooped down right above their head and as they turned to look their bodies were eviscerated as he flew past them, surrounding in a sphere of whirling invisible blades.

Their leader was slightly more capable than the rest and immediately ducked for cover and spat a large sphere of fire at Osamu. Still, he swiftly avoided it with astounding ease due to his speed, before forming the Dog Seal and holding it firmly in place before he regathered his chakra and unleashed it anew.

This time he stood no chance as countless blades of wind erupted from nowhere and everywhere and instantly reduced the leader of the movement to nothing more than bloody slabs of meat that hit the ground with wet thumps. His Shadow Clones helped the other shinobi of the village clean up the rest of the mess, and the coup d'tat however clumsy and desperate it had been was repelled.