Chapter 188: The Second Chance Program
Mizuki's gaze never wavered from Malik as he watched the boy move with surprising grace around the small, makeshift kitchen. His hands worked deftly to prepare the meal, moving faster than Mizuki's addled mind could fully process. He hated how weak he felt, but every movement was a reminder of how much the potion Orochimaru had given him had ravaged his body.
As Mizuki's focus slipped momentarily, his attention was brought back by the clanging sound of guards setting up a table in front of him and the Legendary Stupid Brothers. The two hulking men, Fūjin and Raijin, barely contained their excitement as the food began to appear on the table. Their massive hands twitched with anticipation, but each time they tried to reach for something, Malik slapped their hands away with an amused smirk. They pouted but obeyed, their childlike focus shifting from grabbing to simply staring hungrily at the spread.
The prisoners in the cells above, noses pressed against the iron bars, sniffed the air like wolves. The aroma of freshly baked bread, grilled meats, and rich sauces filled the air, winding its way through the stone walls of the Konoha Strict Correctional Facility. Even the guards were whispering amongst themselves, marveling at the skill and speed with which Malik had prepared the meal.
"What kind of shinobi bakes bread this fast?" one of them muttered under his breath.
Malik, seemingly hearing the whispers, flashed a mischievous smile before turning back to his task, placing the last roll of bread on the table with a flourish. He carefully rubbed melted butter on it, causing Fūjin and Raijin to visibly salivate. Their massive frames trembled with anticipation, and when Malik demanded that they eat with proper table manners, they nodded eagerly, stuffing only one thing into their mouths at a time—an accomplishment, considering their usual behavior.
As Malik observed the brothers digging into the meal, he noticed Mizuki staring at him, eyes filled with mistrust. Malik met Mizuki's gaze, unbothered, and addressed him directly.
"You should eat, especially sitting next to these two." Malik's tone was light but laced with amusement as he gestured to the brothers.
Mizuki, skeptical, hesitated. "Why would someone like you do this for a bunch of killers?" Mizuki's voice was harsh, his suspicion evident in every word.
Malik's smile never faltered. "Eat something first, then I'll answer your questions."
Mizuki, after a brief internal struggle, reached for a piece of bread. The moment he took a bite, he regretted nothing. The flavors exploded in his mouth, a warmth spreading through his body as the soft, buttery bread seemed to melt on his tongue. Though he tried to maintain his hardened expression, Malik caught the flicker of joy in his eyes and smiled wider.
Floating up a few inches off the ground, Malik adopted a thoughtful expression, tapping his chin theatrically before he spoke. "I could give you the usual speech about how everyone deserves a second chance. And, honestly, that is part of it—but the bigger reason is simple: The Hidden Leaf is in a bit of trouble right now. Orochimaru and the Akatsuki caused more damage than we'd like to admit. We lost a lot of good shinobi—people who gave their lives to protect this village, their home, their families."
Malik paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in before continuing. "So, I came up with an idea. You three are strong—well, the brothers here are, and you were once, Mizuki. The village is low on manpower, but strength is strength." Malik pointed directly at Mizuki and the brothers. "I'm putting together a program. With provisional approval from the Fifth Hokage—though my wife disapproves—this program will give people like you a chance to redeem yourselves, to prove your loyalty to the Leaf once again."
Mizuki's brows furrowed. The skepticism hadn't left his eyes, but curiosity flickered there now. As he ate more, Mizuki noticed something else—his body felt…better. The constant pain that plagued him dulled. His breath came easier, and his vision cleared just slightly. He took another bite of bread.
Malik continued, his voice drawing in both the brothers and Mizuki alike. "You'll be put into teams of five—three prisoners, two overseers—under strict supervision, of course. You'll be sent on missions, tasked with helping the village in its time of need."
The Legendary Stupid Brothers were nodding eagerly, their mouths too full to speak, but their expressions clear: as long as they were fed like this, they were on board with whatever Malik was offering.
Mizuki, however, had more questions. "What do we get out of this? Besides food, what's the point?"
Malik leaned forward, his pink eyes gleaming. "There are rewards. Food, yes—but also money, depending on the missions. More importantly, you'll earn something even more valuable than money or freedom." Malik's expression turned serious as he locked eyes with Mizuki. "You'll earn back respect. Right now, no one trusts you, Mizuki. Even if you were freed today, any shinobi who crossed paths with you would likely take matters into their own hands. Who would miss you? No one… except, maybe, one person."
The room fell silent. Mizuki knew exactly who Malik was referring to: Tsubaki, the woman he had once loved. Her name wasn't spoken, but her presence hung in the air, a reminder of the life Mizuki had lost.
Mizuki looked down, biting into another piece of bread, the taste no longer as sweet, but still comforting. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, filled with something that sounded like resignation. "Why me?"
Malik chuckled softly. "Why not you? Tsunade may have saved your life, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve too."
Mizuki shook his head. "You don't understand. My body's broken. At first, I thought I could heal from this, that in time I'd rebuild my strength. But I'm too far gone. I'll never be a true shinobi again."
Malik floated closer, his smile never fading. "Mizuki, I've seen broken men rebuild themselves before. It takes time, but it's possible. And besides, who said you'd need to fight alone? You've got a team, and if you put in the effort, you might surprise yourself."
Mizuki looked up at Malik, doubt still clouding his eyes. But there, just beneath the surface, was a glimmer of hope—hope that perhaps, just perhaps, Malik's words weren't empty.
The three men continued eating for what felt like hours, their energy slowly returning, especially for Mizuki, who hadn't felt this alive in a long time. As the brothers stuffed themselves with food, Malik continued explaining his plan.
"While you're not on missions," Malik continued, glancing at Fūjin and Raijin, who were too engrossed in their food to notice his gaze, "you'll be training. I see the potential in you, but right now, it's being wasted. With my resources and guidance, I expect you all to make great progress."
Mizuki, now feeling his body pulsing with an unfamiliar energy, leaned back slightly, taking a deep breath. Whatever was in the food had done something to him—he felt stronger, more awake, like the pain and frailty that had plagued him were slowly dissolving. He knew that this was temporary, but even a temporary reprieve was better than nothing.
He tuned back into Malik's words just in time to hear him address the brothers.
"Once you're back on your feet, we're going to try something with your curse marks again." Malik's eyes twinkled mischievously, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. "I'm very interested to see what the true power of the Animal Curse Seal is."
Mizuki's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to blur. The Animal Curse Seal was what had nearly destroyed him—leaving his body a broken husk. And yet, Malik was talking about activating it again as if it were no big deal. He felt a deep fear gnawing at his gut, memories of the excruciating pain and the rapid deterioration of his body flooding his mind.
Malik noticed the fear and quickly reassured him. "Don't worry, Mizuki. This time will be different. I believe the power is still within you—it's just dormant. What broke you before won't be a problem this time."
Mizuki's brow furrowed, confusion etched across his face. "Why not? What's going to stop it from destroying me again?"
Malik gave a nonchalant shrug, his smile unshaken. "The way I heal people," he began, his tone casual but filled with intrigue, "it's different. Supernatural, you could say. And I know more about true power than you might think. Your world still holds a lot of power, but maybe not the kind I have."
There was something strange in Malik's words—something that didn't quite fit. Our world, Mizuki thought, realizing that Malik had said your world earlier. He squinted at Malik, curiosity mixing with fear. "You mean our world, right?"
Malik's eyes sparkled, but he didn't answer directly. Instead, he continued smiling, leaving Mizuki with more questions than answers. There was something behind those eyes—something otherworldly, perhaps even dangerous. And yet, Mizuki couldn't deny that whatever Malik was offering was preferable to the prison cell.
"Join me," Malik said, his voice dropping slightly, almost in a whisper. "Prove yourselves. Let's see what kind of power you can truly unlock."
The Legendary Stupid Brothers were quick to agree. Without hesitation, they extended their massive hands, and Malik floated over the table to shake them both. As their hands made contact, mystical marks appeared on their arms—golden, shimmering symbols that pulsed with energy. The brothers looked at each other in confusion, but Malik simply waved it off, explaining, "Just a little magic. Don't worry about it."
Malik then floated over to Mizuki, holding out his hand, his smile never faltering. "Do we have a deal, Mizuki?"
Mizuki hesitated. "Do I have a choice?" His voice was laced with bitterness, but there was a part of him—an increasingly louder part—that wanted this power, this second chance.
Malik lowered his hand but didn't back away. "Yes," he said quietly. "You always have a choice. I won't force you to join. If you say no, nothing happens. You'll go back to your cell, no punishment, no repercussions. But... someone like you, Mizuki—someone who craves power, who wants to prove themselves, who wants to outshine people like Naruto or Iruka—you'd hate a life of insignificance, wouldn't you?"
Before Malik could continue, Mizuki snapped, his frustration boiling over. "I get it. I just asked a damn question." With a heavy sigh, he extended his hand, albeit reluctantly.
Malik's smile grew, and he grasped Mizuki's hand. The moment their hands touched, Mizuki felt an overwhelming surge of energy. Malik's magic flowed through him—bright pink and gold energy wrapping around his body like a cocoon. Mizuki's frail frame began to fill out, his muscles expanding, his bones strengthening. His height returned, and soon he stood tall once more, almost at his former glory. The same magical marks that had appeared on the brothers now adorned Mizuki's arms, glowing faintly.
Malik pulled a cookie seemingly from thin air, offering it to Mizuki. "Eat this."
Mizuki, still reeling from the transformation, took the cookie and hesitated only for a moment before taking a bite. The moment the sweet confection hit his tongue, another wave of power washed over him. His body felt like it was on fire, but in a good way—a rush of strength unlike anything he had ever experienced.
Malik let go of his hand, floating back slightly to examine his work. "How do you feel?" Malik asked, his voice light but with a hint of challenge behind it.
Mizuki flexed his hands, marveling at how strong he felt. He hadn't felt like this in years, not since before the curse mark had ruined him. His body no longer ached; his vision was clear, and his mind was sharp. He glanced over at the brothers, who were still admiring the light show from earlier, completely lost in their own world of food and power.
"It feels..." Mizuki's voice faltered, unsure of how to describe the sensation. He took another bite of the cookie, feeling the power radiate from within him.
Malik nodded, satisfied. "Good. Everything worked as expected." He turned to the guards, who were still standing at a safe distance, watching with a mixture of awe and suspicion. Shisui, of course, remained silent, her masked face betraying no emotion.
Malik's eyes returned to Mizuki. "Now, let's see what you've got, Mizuki. Let's see what you can truly do."