Investigating

The moon hung heavy over Konoha, its pale silver glow casting long, eerie shadows across the silent streets. The village lay still, suffocating under an oppressive quiet that gnawed at Hinata’s nerves. She and Sakura moved through the darkness, their footsteps hushed as they approached Kurenai’s house, hearts pounding with a mix of dread and resolve.

Earlier that day, Hinata had bared her soul to Sakura in the dim hospital break room, her lavender eyes haunted as she twisted the hem of her jacket. “Sakura, there’s something wrong—I can’t remember pieces of my life, and this feeling… it’s like something’s been ripped out of me,” she’d whispered, her voice trembling but firm. “Kurenai, Shikamaru, everyone Kurenai’s been near—it’s all off.” Sakura had leaned back, arms crossed over her medic coat, her green eyes sharp with doubt. “Hinata, you’ve been through hell lately. Stress can mess with your head. But… if you’re this sure, I’ll go with you. We’ll check Kurenai’s place tonight.” Gratitude and fear had warred in Hinata’s chest, but she’d nodded, and now they were here—hunting answers in the shadows.

At Kurenai’s house, Hinata pressed herself against the wall, her Byakugan flaring to life, veins pulsing as she peered inside. Her breath caught, sharp and jagged. In the flickering candlelight of the living room, Kurenai and Naomi stood over two bound figures—Anko and Tenten—stripped down to their undergarments, wrists and ankles tied with cruel precision. Their bodies trembled, sweat-slicked and straining against the ropes. Kurenai’s crimson eyes glowed with a serene, indulgent malice, her lips curved in a faint smile as she watched. Naomi lingered beside her, silent, obedient, her gaze fixed on the scene.

Then Shikamaru emerged from the shadows—or what was left of him. His movements were too smooth, too inhuman, his face alight with cold amusement. He crouched before Anko, dragging a slow, deliberate finger along her trembling jawline, her skin glistening under his touch. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his voice silken and venomous. “It only hurts for a little while.” Anko spat at him, her eyes wild, “You bastards! Whatever this is—you won’t win!” Tenten’s breath came in shallow gasps beside her, her muscles flexing as she twisted desperately for freedom.

Hinata clapped a hand over her mouth, bile rising as Shikamaru pulled a syringe from his flak jacket, the silver liquid within glinting like liquid starlight. Kurenai’s smile widened. “It’s already over, darling.” With a swift, merciless thrust, Shikamaru plunged the needle into Anko’s neck. Her body arched violently, a guttural moan ripping from her throat as the infection surged through her, her hips bucking involuntarily. Tenten’s eyes widened in horror, scrambling back, but Kurenai was on her in an instant, the next syringe sinking into her flesh. She convulsed, her cry **** into a raw, **** groan, her body shuddering as the alien chakra took root.

Then—they stilled. When they rose, their once-defiant eyes glowed red, and with a frenzied hunger, Anko turned on Tenten, pinning her to the floor. Their hands roamed with brutal urgency, tearing at what little fabric remained, their bodies grinding together in a twisted, **** symphony of moans and gasps, submission etched into every thrust. Shikamaru watched, his smirk deepening, a hand lazily tracing the bulge in his pants as the infection claimed them fully.

Sakura’s fist clenched beside Hinata, her body trembling with rage and revulsion. “We need to get out of here. Now,” she hissed, grabbing Hinata’s wrist. They slipped away, moving fast through the darkened village, their minds racing. This wasn’t just a few corrupted souls—the entire village was a nest of depravity, its heart rotting under some unseen master.

“We go to the Hokage’s office,” Sakura whispered as they neared the edge of Konoha. “If anyone can stop this, it’s Kakashi.” Hinata nodded, her pulse a deafening roar in her ears. They rounded a corner—

And Tsunade was there, waiting.

Her blonde hair hung loose, her amber eyes glinting with an unnatural sheen. Hinata’s Byakugan caught the silvery taint threading her chakra, but before she could warn Sakura, the medic lunged, her fist aimed at Tsunade’s chest. The former Hokage moved with inhuman speed, sidestepping and seizing Sakura’s wrist in a bone-crushing grip. Sakura gasped, struggling, but Tsunade’s other hand darted forward, a syringe piercing her shoulder.

“No!” Hinata screamed, lunging to intervene, but Shikamaru’s shadow snaked around her ankles, locking her in place. Sakura convulsed, her green eyes rolling back as the silver flooded her veins, a choked moan escaping her lips. Tsunade knelt, stroking Sakura’s hair as her body shook, her voice a sickening croon. “Shhh… you’re mine now, sweetheart—for Master Baby.” Sakura’s trembling slowed, her fingers twitching, then clawing at the ground as her hips jerked faintly. When she rose, her eyes blazed red, her lips parting in a soft, obedient sigh as she rolled her shoulders, her body now a vessel of calm, eager submission.

Tsunade turned to Hinata, her smile widening. “Come, darling—join us.” But Hinata acted on instinct, chakra surging as she shattered the shadow’s hold with a **** burst. She turned and ran, Tsunade’s voice echoing behind her, sultry and commanding, joined by Sakura’s newly corrupted tone calling her name.

Hinata didn’t stop, fleeing into the night, her breath ragged, her mind screaming. The village was lost—its people twisted into a web of lust and servitude—and she was alone, a fragile thread unraveling in the grip of a nightmare she couldn’t yet name.