The Cage

The Night is icy. Loud. The air sticks in my throat, punches my lungs, clears my head. After days of freezing on a dirty mattress, keeping my head down, with nothing to do but look out a window and wonder who'll come through it next, it feels like I haven't taken a breath in years.

It's like I'm flying as we leap over rooftops. Like I'm weightless and the next jump will take me too far. Below, Konoha glints under a layer of frost. The ghetto drinks, laughs, repeats. No one bothers to look up.

Temari told Fox he was an idiot, letting us out after only a week. Fox only laughed and said, gotta let them come up for air sometime, right guys?

Hell yes.

I can see him up ahead, through the holes in my dog mask, looking more alive under the moonlight than I can ever remember. I keep having to remind myself he's real, he's here, and he won't vanish if I look away.

He's taking us somewhere special. He wants to celebrate. I wonder where. Fox's idea of fun is everything from bar crawling to vandalizing the Uchiha cemetery to slander the Hokage.

Nothing like painting over their dead to make the living pissed as all fucking hell.

It's how the band rolls. You don't forget how the new government cut funding, spilled orphans into the street like rats looking for a hole because they shut down Our Lady's Home for Disadvantaged Children. They tore it down to build a memorial, a cemetery, for the Uchiha war heroes.

We got people talking. Bunch of masked misfit runts painting graffiti all over the cemetery, the Hokage Tower, leaving notes for the police to find in the ghettos: The Third Lives, written in a spiral. Our trademark. Sometimes we left it on their houses. Jumped an officer or two to stop an arrest. Now they look out for a brat in a fox mask.

We had the ghettos laughing, but our district grew wild, untamed. a canker sore behind the walls, where Uchiha herded the lower class, the beggars, the disgraced and discharged veterans, the rebels, the activists.

I guess they might have thought it was justice, since their clan was rounded up and thrown into a corner while the Fire Country's civil war raged. The Hokage had been afraid of betrayal.

The Uchiha were backstabbing villains, and Fox never let us forget it. We wouldn't have anyway.

Not after what they did.

Up ahead, I see a neon sign blinking in the dark. The Silver Leaf, flickering like a dying blue heartbeat. I hear Fox laugh, and suddenly I know what we're doing, and we're not going for a drink. I stop running, just when Fox whirls around, balancing on a gutter.

Everyone's quiet. I see Gaara's eyes glance over, but he's hidden behind his raccoon mask, and I don't know if he's giving me the type of look that says watch out or if he's just as curious as I am.

Fox throws his arms wide, like he's trying to catch the wind. "Perfect night for a fight, isn't it?" He milks hoots and hollers from our gang, pumping his fist in the air. He hollers, and drops from the rooftop to the alley.

I watch as everyone else takes a jump, disappears.

"You comin', brother?" Fox calls.

I look over at the sign before I leap.


The first time we fought in a pit, we were fourteen, and I'll never forget that first fighter's high. The euphoria when the applause rang out like thunder.

Konohagakure has its secrets. The type of things that lurk in forgotten corners and make your teeth fall out if you start to spread them. Everybody knows it. Or you figure it out the hard way.

When we were fourteen, we found the Naras.

Shadow masters. Mafia. The hand on your shoulder that leads you when you look away.

We were making green smuggling drugs for the Dragons back then, a vicious gang that patrolled the western border of the district. Five ways in, only one way out, but we didn't care. We laughed, we laughed because no one ever caught us, and anyone who ever did wished they hadn't. Leader (no one ever knew his name) had a face you only read about in the paper. Usually under headlines that had something to do with murder or arson and leaves no one alive.

Leader had a blue dragon inked into his skin. It curved endlessly from his hip, to the opposite shoulder, to his neck, its inked forked tongue reached out to taste his Adam's apple. He'd found us kicking in windows and scaling up walls of old apartment buildings and bright clubs on his turf like geckos. We lived off the thrill back then, and I remember we laughed when he chased us, When he saw us run, Leader liked what he saw.

Fox was mesmerized by him. He'd look at the tattoo and say, "I bet it does something wicked."

We ended up in the pit because Fox couldn't keep his mouth shut. He had to smile and say, "Aw fuck you, man, you don't own me," when we got in trouble for losing an ounce of Fire. They wanted to pat us down, check the Hideout. Some thug came running at Fox and I broke his nose. Leader grinned. And that night we found ourselves in the cage.

"You make it out of here alive," he'd said, "and you can do whatever the fuck you want."

Nara Shikaku was watching from his spot in the shadows that night as the crowd roared. He smiled when Fox and I tag-teamed, took out the drug lord in two minutes flat, despite the little fire cannons that rose out of his shoulders, from his bones. And the tattoo undulated on his skin, ripped away in nanites to come back together in a beast as it tried to tear out our throats. We were just a couple of brats with no cyberkinetics. Just the clothes on our backs and the mask. But we had grit.

I'd never seen Fox as excited as he was when he watched the tattoo rip away from Leader's skin.

"Told ya," he'd said.

I'd only grinned and said "You ready?" before I threw him, watched him tear into it as I sped around Leader, pivoting and dodging when he shot at me. I remember his eyes got huge. Large and afraid when I scaled the cage, jumped over the fireballs, and said surprise! when we were suddenly face to face.

That night, after we won, the Shadow Master beckoned us forward. "How'd you boys like to make a buck?" he'd said with a slow smile.

There was a saying about the mafia. Cross paths with a Nara and you'd be dead before your shadow. But when it came to Shikaku, his wife was scarier, once you got past the scar and the bodyguards.

I remember how Fox grinned and looked over his shoulder at me, and we snickered past our bloody noses, like making cash was about to get easier than stealing candy from a baby. And the fights began. The gang would sell Fire for the Naras during the fights, we'd make the right bets, and no one ever caught us. Fox and I would switch off, one in the cage while the other sat gambling in the audience and monitoring the traffic. We liked to say it wasn't cheating, just a better way of playing the game.

Cage fighting was illegal, but it was a good vein to tap into for quick cash and a few desperate buyers who lurked in the audience. Sometimes even the fighters themselves.

In the arena, we're known as the Demon. We wear nothing but the clothes on our backs and the fox mask, and that's what makes the audience go wild. In a cage fight, you bring your most illegal cyborg eyes and limbs, say a prayer, and hope you come out alive.

I don't know what it is about us that keeps us alive and winning in the cage. It's more than Fox's shark smile or my wicked left hook. I don't know what it is, but it's always been there.

And Boss's son was always watching us. He was a lazy son of a bitch, always following us because he was bored of the mob life, if only to complain and point out how one of us had been sloppy in the last match, there was a better strategy. Sometimes I thought he only followed to catch a glimpse of Temari, look at her ass when she wasn't looking and try to say something.

But soon the cage wasn't the cage without Shikamaru trailing behind us, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I haven't seen Shikamaru since I was apprehended for murder.

So when we round the corner and I see him, smoking beneath a pool of hazy light under the sign, leaning against the back door, I have to stop myself from running forward and tackling him.

He nearly chokes on his cigarette when he swivels his gaze. He doesn't have to see my face, only my mask, to know it's me. He gawks at me, and he hasn't changed a bit. Same slouch, same spiky hair pulled up in a ponytail, same frown.

He wordlessly bumps knuckles with me, clapping me on the shoulder. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you anytime soon," he mutters, and he doesn't look at me when he says it. I know it's because as soon as I got caught, Boss cut the group off for being "reckless".

"Long time no see, Blondie," he says finally, and I'm grinning so hard I think my face might crack. I don't miss the narrowed glare he throws Fox's way, but he keeps his mouth shut, trailing after us as we push through the door.

The bar smells like cloves and sweat, drenched in ruddy light and pulsing along with too-old music. It's like walking into a wall of body heat, there's so many people here tonight. Some girl's laughing like a hyena up by the counter, and suddenly people are looking at us, enough to make the voices die down. My eyes rake over their faces, wondering if someone, anyone, realizes who I am.

The thought makes dread pool in my stomach.

It sets my teeth on edge, and suddenly I wonder if this was a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't be here. Not yet. It takes me a second to remember I'm wearing my mask. Fox claps me on the back, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Relax, big bro." He plops down on a bar stool, pulls a busty girl into his lap. She squeaks like a little girl and her friends giggle.

They love the masks and like to imagine handsome faces behind them. Fox lifts his mask enough to show off a cocky grin. He wraps his arms around her waist, whispering against her neck, "If you think I'm fun you should check out my brother." He nods at me.

I shake my head, but one of her girlfriends hangs on my shoulder, whispering in my ear. She smells like ashes and cheap perfume. She tries to lift my mask, giggling when I grab her fingers.

"Oh come on, just for me?" She pouts, batting her eyes.

I disentangle myself before Fox can say anything. The band's already getting comfy. Ordering drinks, playing darts, flirting. Temari is watching Fox with murder in her eyes. Or maybe she just wants to cry, I don't know. She's wasting her time on my brother though. He falls for anyone with a pretty face who can flirt back and fuck.

Fox is calling for a toast. People are laughing, hollering. "Hey, hey, hey!" he calls, propping himself up on the bar stool like a king. He holds out his shot of whiskey, pinning his eyes on me.

"To a damn good fight."

Everyone cheers and we throw back our drinks. Mine burns. People start cheering. Someone is waving a fox mask. They want it signed.

It's clever, really, if I think about it. When we started winning big, our fans started buying masks. Kids would play in the street wearing them. One time a boy wearing a fox mask was taken down by the police and beaten before they realized their mistake. Now they're more careful, and I know Fox has strutted right past them more than once.

Then it starts. Fox rises, and the band and I follow him down to the basement, the bar's tenants slowly following in a trickle. There's another flight of stairs leading down from the basement from a trapdoor in the concrete floor. It goes down, down, down, and I pause, heart in my throat.

I can almost hear the clink, clink, clink of the Beast as it gnashes its jaws. But it isn't the Beast, and Gaara is nudging me forward. I find myself wondering how he's always right there, quiet and calm, always watching. Not for the first time, I wonder how he got tied up with Fox. I wouldn't know, since he never talks unless he has to, and I don't ask.

Fox is calling for me, so I step down, acting like I can't see the dark of the asylum hidden in the shadows of the basement. The dark goes on for too long, but then I can see the arena up ahead, and my blood starts to roar along with the crowd.

An old beggar used to live on the Silver Leaf's porch, and he told me once, "Ain't nothing like a good fight to get your blood roarin' eh, boy?"

There really wasn't.

The best part wasn't just fighting under those fluorescent lights while people screamed and cheered and bet on you, it was the feeling of freedom that filled you fit to burst when you won.

Euphoria. A fighter's high.

I never feel more alive.

The narrow hallway opens up like the throat of a flower to a bloom, and the arena looks larger than I remember. The lights overhead are bright enough to make me squint, while everything else washes out in black and shadow. There are already too many people here. Some have to sit on the floor around the arena, where the cage sits on a platform of concrete mottled brown with old blood that can't be scrubbed out.

It's a big, black spiderweb of gleaming metal.

There's the sharp smell of frying oil and something coppery. Voices rise higher. Vendors selling dango or fried dough. But then you hear the gambling. It's just begun.

Fox and the others start to point and guffaw, and I turn my head to see what's so funny. A tall grizzly of a man stumbles in front of us. He reeks of sake, but his eyes are bright. He squeals and throws his arms over his head as a waitress tries to viciously smack him over the head with a frying pan.

"In the name of all that's holy, woman!" he yelps, scrambling away and ducking, shaking in his knock-off designer clothes. I snicker. Some wanna-be from beyond the ghetto walls?

He's huge. Stuffed into a red-and-white shirt that wants to pass for something expensive but can't pull it off. He's got hair wild enough to get Fox off my case. It's way too long, tied into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. It touches the backs of his knees.

"Don't you get touchy-feely again, Jiraiya, or I'll get the bouncers to throw your ass out!"

Jiraiya feigns innocence. "Moi? Touch you in such a lecherous way? Oh, Shizune, you wound me!" But then he grins.

"Although, if you want to toss me out into the street, you might want to get Tsunade. She can scoop me right up into those perky-"

He doesn't get to finish. Shizune hits him hard with her pan and we're all bent over laughing as he sits on the ground, swearing every cuss word he knows and blinking watery eyes.

"Shizune! I think I'm bleeding!"

She pauses to blink at him, lean closer, and he gets an eyeful of her cleavage.

What a perv.

In the end he plays his cards right, and she apologizes, huffing when he pays her another compliment. She stomps off, and the old man waggles his eyebrows at me like a kid who got away with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It's all about the charm, kid," he says brightly, as though he never got hit with a frying pan. He claps me on the shoulder like I'm some long lost friend. I stare at his hand on my shoulder, wondering who the hell he is and if I'm supposed to know him from somewhere, when Fox throws himself at Jiraiya like a kid wanting a piggyback ride.

Jiraiya laughs, throwing Fox off gently before my brother can hook his arm around the old man's neck and smash his gloved fist into Jiraiya's white head for a noogie.

I stare.

"Ohohoho, you little shit, I don't think so!" He hooks his arm around Fox's neck instead. Fox beams proudly, and I wonder what's coming next.

"Brother, meet our new sponsor."

Shit.

I stare at him for a minute longer, and suddenly that feeling is back. Like the dark's pressing in too close and if I'm not careful, someone will know who I am. Who we are. I'm pissed. Fox is reckless. Sometimes he's downright dangerous. But I didn't think he was this stupid.

Why risk the band by letting in a greedy stanger? When we worked the cage, we worked for Nara, and he had the band's back. Without him, we need to be careful. We need to think about the band.

Fox seems to read my mind, because he points somewhere behind me. "I'm tellin' you, brother, Jiraiya knows what he's doin'. He makes winners." Jiraiya tuts fondly at this, and when I turn to see what he's talking about, my eyes widen before they narrow.

I see a man slipping into the cage. I know him. I've seen him before. It brings back memories of deadly skies, Sakura, and a lonely swing. Tall. Lean torso. Silvery hair, scar over his left cyborg eye. The special soldier. But he's wearing a black mask tonight. It's tight over the lower half of his face like a second skin, stretching down from his nose to his neck. He rolls his shoulders, looks over at Jiraiya, who gives him a thumbs up. The soldier gives him a flat look before flipping him off. Jiraiya hoots. The soldier's lazy gaze lingers a second too long on my dog mask, and I scowl.

The announcer turns on the microphone, a blip of static over the speakers.

"KONOHA! ARE YOU READY TO RUUUUUUUMBLE?!"

The crowd goes wild, and Fox is grabbing my shoulders, excited. The gang is leaning forward eagerly to watch. A large, beefy fighter with a prosthetic arm that looks like it could snap bone steps into the ring, yelling and taunting his opponent gleefully while milking cheers from the crowd. The gang watches raptly.

"Shit," says Shikamaru with a disappointed sigh. "He doesn't have a chance against the Scarecrow. Fuck, Dad's gonna have Danzo's head for making this match. I don't care how capable he says his underground fighters are. That guy's a goner, and now we're out some cash." He closes his eyes, as if the match is already over.

I'm wondering which one is Scarecrow, when the fighters suddenly begin, a second before the bell, but the referee doesn't wave the flag, just lets them go at it.

The soldier flies at his opponent. The other fighter sidesteps, barely, but his metal arm is already churning, gears clicking. Firearms aren't allowed in the arena, so I wonder what he'll pull. The arm seems to fortify itself. His metal fist clenches and he dives. The soldier waits until the last possible moment to leap over his opponent, sailing over his shoulders, yanking on his ponytail mischievously. The crowd laughs. The metal fist rams hard into the concrete, leaving a cracked dent.

The fighter yells, plucks his arm right back up and whirls, a blade sliding out over his forearm. He slashes. The soldier taunts him. He evades each slash with extreme speed. Ducking, and bobbing, and pivoting.

He's doing it on purpose. I can see the weight of the fighter's arm is beginning to slow his steps. But there's a moment the soldier is a second too slow, and the crowd gasps when blood wells under his eye. He ducks again under another swipe, only to pop up into the fighter's face and deliver a blow so hefty the man spits out a bloody tooth. The soldier cocks his head, like he's grinning behind that mask. He opens his palm, and I can see the glint of a small metal disc neatly implanted in the skin. Bllue static sparks, like lightning, lick up his arm.

He avoids another swipe, moving like water with the jabs. Suddenly the fighter is clumsy with his steps, and he bleats, like there's a monster in the cage with him. He swipes at air, completely missing the soldier. It makes him stumble, just long enough for the soldier to catch his arm before he shakes off what had to be an illusion. The fighter yowls as electric shocks make him convulse. The blue sparks running up the soldier's arm get brighter, more potent, and you can almost smell the fighter's skin starting to fry.

But the fighter is strong. He claps a meaty hand behind the soldier's neck, and that's the moment where I think the soldier's lost, because he's in too close with a monster of a man who's going to crush his neck with a squeeze in a second.

But it never happens. The soldier looks up, stares at the fighter dead in the eye, and a hush falls over the crowd. The fighter stares back blankly, like he can't move.

What the soldier does next has everyone chanting his arena name: "Scarecrow, Scarecrow, Scarecrow!" The soldier yells, pits his strength, and rips. He breaks off the metal arm with brute strength and burning electricity, showering the cage in sparks and blood.

The bell chimes. The fight lasted four minutes.

"Told ya," says Shikamaru, but he's grinning, looking thoughtful. The winner holds up a victorious arm. Scarecrow just won, and Jiraiya just got himself and that soldier a shit ton. I know, because the old man is practically drooling while he claps his hands. The soldier leaves the cage and ambles over, sidestepping Jiraiya's attempt at a high five and spinning out of the way before the old man can clap him on the back.

"Cocky brat," Jiraiya grumbles. The soldier ignores him.

"Whatcha got here, Jiraiya?" he drawls, passing a slow gaze over the gang. "Fresh meat?"

Jiraiya laughs and tells Fox to go get ready. "You're next! Make me proud, boy. I arranged this match just for you. Special." He winks, but before Fox can slip away I grab him by the arm. He follows me to a shadowed corner.

"What the fucking hell?" I explode when we're by ourselves, or as close to it as we're going to get.

"You out of your fucking mind? Putting us up with a sponsor we don't even know? If we do this, we do this alone." I spit out. His eyes crinkle at the corners behind the mask, like he's amused, which only pisses me off more. It's like my senses are on overdrive. It makes the hair on the back of my neck tingle to see Jiraiya laughing and interacting with the gang, with Fox. I tighten my grip on him. He laughs.

"After all the shit that's gone down, we can't afford the risk. You let in the wrong guy and he figures out who we are and we can't count on him, it's not gonna be me behind bars. It's gonna be you, or them." I jerk my head over at the gang. Fox snorts.

"I didn't rot in there just so you could go off and fuck up."

Fox scoffs. Now he's irritated. "This is the thanks I get for bustin' your ass out?"

"Maybe you should've left me there." I shove him away. "At least then nobody would be looking for you."

Fox rolls his eyes. Unimpressed. "Re-freakin'-lax. Shacking up with the old man ain't gonna do anything to us. He's a greedy bastard, but I'll doubt he'll ever figure out who he's working with. Besides, we gotta make some green. You know how much those explosives cost?"

I glare at him, shaking my head, too jacked up on my anger, and the sliver of paranoia that's working its way through. Making me look for rats. For the Warden. Making me remember the boys and the beast and looking out for the police.

Fox is carefree.

"We shouldn't be fighting tonight. Shit. It's too soon-"

"You need a little distraction," says Fox. "You need to fucking chill." Suddenly he pulls off his mask and makes a grab for mine. We wrestle, but I've been locked away for too long, and he wins. He shoves the fox mask at me, wearing his shark smile.

"Make it up to me, brother. Go have some fun." He sneers, and suddenly he's gone, leaping away laughing before I can catch him. The bell chimes and I stop dead when Jiraiya claps me on the back. He notices the change, but if he's surprised, he doesn't show it. Or he doesn't care.

I put the mask in place with a determined scowl.

"You're up, kid," Jiraiya sings, and I'm so angry I don't know what else to do but follow him to the cage and yank on my hood. The crowd's chanting Demon Demon Demon! Low and excited and breathless.

Demon! Demon! Demon!

I pass Scarecrow, and he fixes me with a cool stare that has me clenching my jaw. "Show me what you got, kid," he says, throwing back a congratulatory shot of whiskey. Jiraiya shoves me forward, and I pull myself up onto the concrete platform, and wait for the referee to open the cage door. I step inside, promising to give Fox the ass-kicking of a lifetime once I get out. Hopefully not maimed. He knows it's been too long. I'm out of shape. The bastard!

The gang is gaping at me, because they've figured out it's Fox in the dog mask, looking too relaxed and pleased with himself. But then they start to cheer. Gaara stays quiet, watching me from a corner.

The announcer cries over the noise of the crowd, "ARE YOU READY FOR ROUND TWO, KONOHA?"

I glower at the bodies jumping up and hooting and screaming, but they're hard to see past the harsh glare of the light.

"THEN LEEEEEEET'S FIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

The referee opens the cage door for my opponent, and I bark out a bitter laugh. You've got to be kidding me! A boy who can't be any older than I am steps inside the cage. He's blindfolded, feeling out the floor with a careful step. He moves slowly, deliberately. He's tall, lithe, like a panther. With spiky black hair and from the look of it, a pretty boy face. I smile grimly, crack my neck with a wince, shaking out my arms, hopping from foot to foot.

At least I didn't get stuck with a steroid set of muscles. Down side? He might be just as fast. I grit my teeth, wondering what he's got behind that blindfold. I hope I still got sting, because my opponent takes a wide stance. I clench my fists. Somewhere, I can almost hear Fox laugh and say I know you can't do it.

The bell chimes, and I'm soaring on the adrenaline, the anticipation. My heart beats faster. A bat out of hell. I start to wonder what my chances are, as the boy tugs away his blindfold with a gloved hand, but the thought only fuels me, and I can feel that grit bursting through my veins.

He's got dark eyes. Normal eyes. I raise a brow and take a fighting stance, wary and a little confused, when his irises begin to bleed red. While I try to figure out how the hell he's doing that without a cyberkinetic implant, I realize I know that red gaze. So well it fills me with rage and wonder as the tomoe begin to spin mockingly as they focus.

"Fuckin' hell."

He's an Uchiha.


A/N: What's this? A lot of this was re-written! For the plot's sake! I fleshed it out. Actually got one board with the plot, and worked on it. Which led to rewriting but hey!

So what do we know so far from the past 3 chapters? Let's review:

1. Naruto was mysteriously deceived by a nun who used to work at the orphanage. He allowed the police to catch him because Fox is the obvious culprit, and he didn't want him, or the gang, to risk getting caught. It is not clear why Chiyo made him out to be a psychopath at this point, but the resulting investigation, which will keep getting touched on later, led to Naruto's imprisonment at the Institute.

2. Shishui Uchiha was the murder victim. He is the man from Naruto's dream back in chapter 1. Why he was murdered has not yet been revealed, but it appears that it was some type of revenge on Fox's part. Remember, Naruto says the Uchiha are "backstabbing villains" and "Fox never lets us forget it" especially "Not after what they did" What they did, exactly, has not been revealed, though we're made aware of their strong dislike of Uchiha rule already because of the shady way they gained control, and because as orphans, the new government gave them the short end of the stick. So they didn't like the Uchiha to begin with.

3. The gang's slogan is The Third Lives, which is made in reference to the Third Hokage, who was assassinated. Since the village is now under Uchiha rule, this is treasonous. They slander and graffiti and generally just cause chaos and upset. The police know a bunch of masked kids are doing it. They look out for the fox mask.

4. Aunt Yan, the boys' caretaker, seems to have been holding back a secret about the boys. She told the boys to "run" if she ever died. Which they did. There was also a mysterious man by the beach before she died. Naruto was punished for waving at him. Naruto also says later on that he and Fox have "grit". There is definitely something about the boys, because they fight with amazing speed and strength without any cyberkinetics.

5. The boys know their mother was Kushina. They also know their father mysteriously disappeared.

6. Kakashi is Scarecrow, and the soldier Naruto saw all those years ago. A warrant for his arrest was also issued, as revealed by the Sentinel news station.

7. The Naras control the mafia.

8. Temari seems to have feelings for Fox, who appears to be a playboy and falls for anyone attractive who catches his interest. Temari also appears to dislike Gaara.

9. Gaara's involvement in the gang is not yet touched on, but it appears he was working with Fox the entire time. We also know he supposedly killed his father, who for some reason, was in Konoha at the time of his death.

10. Orochimaru and Kabuto have a secret lab. They use the asylum's boys as test subjects. Orochimaru claimed to have been "waiting" for Naruto, as he was Orochimaru's 'ever since he admitted him here". This plot point is important, and the asylum is not something that's already over.

11. The third chapter ends with Naruto facing Sasuke. It's interesting to note that Sasuke is using the Sharingan, a cyberkinetic ability, without having implants, which is mind boggling for Naruto.

There are already a couple plot points in motion. Mwahahahahaha!