Take Kakashi

The secret meeting unfolded in a shadowed chamber beneath the Hokage’s tower, its stone walls damp and cold, lit only by the flickering glow of a single lantern. Kakashi stood near a table cluttered with maps, his silver hair catching the faint light as he adjusted his headband, the Sharingan still concealed. Across from him, Baby inhabited Shikamaru’s lean frame, leaning casually against the wall, his red eyes glinting with a menace masked by Shikamaru’s familiar drawl. The air hung heavy with old parchment and unspoken suspicion as Baby spoke, his voice smooth yet edged with something darker. “Kakashi, this stays between us. There’s a major threat to the village—rogue factions near the Land of Iron, uniting under some unknown leader. Could be another Akatsuki-level disaster if we don’t move now.”

Kakashi nodded, his single visible eye narrowing thoughtfully. “Alright, Shikamaru. What’s the intel?” he asked, his tone calm but guarded as he turned to examine a map pinned to the wall, his back briefly exposed. That was Baby’s moment. His hand slipped into his flak jacket, fingers closing around a syringe of shimmering silver viral agent, and he lunged—swift, silent, the needle arcing toward Kakashi’s neck as his free hand aimed to pin the Hokage’s shoulder.

But Kakashi was faster. A rush of wind replaced him as he vanished, the syringe piercing empty air. Substitution. Before Baby could adjust, a boot slammed into his ribs, sending him crashing into the table, maps scattering and the lantern toppling to the floor with a shatter of glass. Baby gritted his teeth, rolling to his feet with Shikamaru’s fluid grace, his red gaze narrowing as he wiped a smirk across his borrowed face.

Kakashi stood across the room, one hand raised in a defensive stance, the other resting near his kunai pouch, his eye sharp with deadly focus. “Shikamaru,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Tch. Too smart for your own good, Kakashi,” Baby replied, tilting his head as the crimson gleam in his eyes flickered. “Troublesome, huh?” He dropped the syringe, drawing a tanto from his sleeve as the shadows in the chamber twitched under his command.

The fight erupted in the cramped space. Baby lashed out with the Shadow Possession Jutsu, tendrils of darkness surging toward Kakashi, but the Hokage’s Sharingan flared to life beneath his lifted headband, tracking the movement with eerie precision. He countered with a burst of lightning chakra, the crackling energy slicing through the shadows as he dodged a slash of the tanto. “You’re not Shikamaru,” Kakashi growled, ducking a follow-up strike and landing a kick that sent Baby staggering back into the wall, stone dust crumbling around him.

Baby laughed, Shikamaru’s body absorbing the blow as he regained his footing, his red eyes glinting with mockery. “Something better—your new Master.” He lunged again, the tanto a feint masking a second syringe in his off-hand, its tip gleaming as it darted toward Kakashi’s side. But Kakashi parried with a kunai, steel clashing in a sharp ring as he twisted away, his movements a blur of instinct and skill. The Hokage’s eye burned with resolve, locked on the imposter wearing his friend’s face, as the fight spiraled into a deadly dance of evasion and intent.

The shadowed chamber beneath the Hokage’s tower trembled with their clash, stone dust raining from the ceiling as Kakashi faced Baby in Shikamaru’s form. The air crackled with power—Baby’s power, far beyond what Shikamaru should wield. His speed was blinding, his strength crushing, each move a testament to something inhuman driving him. Shadows lashed like living tendrils, silvery energy balls roared through the air, exploding against walls with a **** that shook the room, and thin, gleaming needles flew in deadly arcs. Kakashi’s Sharingan spun, tracking every blur, his battle-hardened instincts barely keeping him ahead. He twisted mid-air to dodge an energy ball that scorched the stone behind him, deflected a needle with a flick of his kunai, and rolled free of a shadow trap that grazed his cloak, but Baby’s onslaught pressed him to his limits.

They traded blows in a furious rhythm—Kakashi’s Lightning Blade flared, blue energy searing the air as he lunged, only for Baby to sidestep with unnatural speed, snagging his wrist and twisting. Kakashi countered, flipping free with a twist of his weight, but Baby was relentless. A shadow-cloaked kick met Kakashi’s Rasengan, dispersing it in a burst of sparks, and the Hokage grunted as the **** rattled his bones. He couldn’t match Baby’s raw power, but his experience shone—evading traps with split-second precision, weaving through the chaos with a veteran’s grace. Then, a flicker of shadow snapped tight around him mid-dodge—the Shadow Possession Jutsu locked his limbs, his breath catching as his body froze.

Baby stepped forward, a victorious smirk curling Shikamaru’s lips as he pressed a syringe of shimmering viral agent to Kakashi’s throat, the cold tip grazing his skin. “You’re good, Kakashi,” he purred, crimson eyes glinting with amusement, “but not good enough.” Kakashi’s eye narrowed, and a faint smirk tugged at his own lips—the steel of his kunai already rested against Baby’s jugular, a mirror of the threat. “Neither are you,” he replied, voice cool despite the tension, their standoff a razor’s edge.

The chamber fell silent save for their ragged breaths, the flickering lantern casting jagged shadows across their locked forms. Kakashi’s grip held steady, his mind racing as he seized the moment. “What are you?” he asked, tone low and probing, the question a blade of its own. “You’re not Shikamaru. You’re not even human.”

Baby chuckled, the sound dark and indulgent, tilting his head as if savoring the challenge. “Something better,” he murmured, his voice a silken threat laced with promise. “A new order for this village—and soon, you’ll be part of it.”

Kakashi’s kunai didn’t waver, his Sharingan boring into those red eyes. “Who’s pulling your strings?” he pressed, digging for answers. “What’s your plan?”

Baby’s smirk widened, unshaken. “You’ll see, Hokage. But not today—you won’t stop me.”

The chamber’s flickering lantern cast jagged shadows as Kakashi and Baby stood locked in their deadly standoff, the syringe at Kakashi’s throat matched by the kunai pressed to Shikamaru’s jugular. Kakashi’s Sharingan burned with focus, his voice steady despite the Shadow Possession Jutsu binding his limbs. “We’re at a stalemate,” he remarked, his tone cool and clipped, a faint challenge beneath the calm. “Neither of us can move without ending it for both.”

Baby chuckled, the sound low and dark, reverberating through Shikamaru’s chest as his crimson eyes gleamed with amusement. “A stalemate, huh?” he drawled, Shikamaru’s voice twisted with a mocking edge. “Do you think I’d be foolish enough to face the Sixth Hokage without reinforcements, Kakashi?” The words hung heavy, a taunt laced with certainty.

Kakashi’s single visible eye widened, a rare flicker of alarm breaking his composure as the air shifted—a subtle ripple of chakra brushing his senses too late. His body seized, not from the shadows, but from a deeper intrusion. His mind lurched, consciousness fracturing as the Mind Body Switch Jutsu crashed into him with ruthless precision. The kunai slipped from his grip, clattering against the stone floor, and the shadow possession receded—just as his vision blackened, his will shoved aside.

When awareness snapped back, Kakashi wasn’t in control. His body stood before Baby, moving with an eerie grace that wasn’t his own. His lips parted, and Ino’s voice emerged, smooth and triumphant. “It’s done, Master,” she said through Kakashi’s mouth, her red eyes flickering in his stolen frame as she flexed his fingers, testing her hold.

Baby tilted Shikamaru’s head, his grin stretching wide, feral with satisfaction. “Full control?” he asked, stepping closer, the syringe still glinting in his hand.

“Fully taken over,” Ino confirmed, Kakashi’s lips curling into a smirk that mirrored her own confidence. She turned his head slightly, meeting Baby’s gaze with a spark of pride.

Baby’s crimson eyes gleamed as he placed a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder—Ino’s puppet now—his touch mockingly affectionate. “Perfect,” he purred, his voice a velvet promise of domination, the chamber’s shadows seeming to deepen around them.