Writing Prompt #12
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
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Was the curse of hatred actually a real thing? or did danzo just demonize the uchiha;s anger? idk, being murderously angry or just angry in general is a reasonable and human response to oppression and genocide.
The "Curse of Hatred" Analysis
An interesting question. The Curse of Hatred looks dumb at first glance but there are also many misconceptions surrounding it.
Since it is such a hot mess to begin with, I will try to focus mostly on the in-universe canon and lore rather than making it even more complicated by bringing in too much real-world logic and criticizing Kishimoto.
There's a bunch of rambling in the tags though.
Kishimoto's Intentions
Whenever we talk about the "Curse of Hatred" the fandom will usually apply terms such as "racism", "bigotry" and "pseudoscience" - particularly in reference to Tobirama.
Again, I don't want to bring too much irl logic into this but I feel like we need to make a clear distinction between intention and interpretation over here. "[insert character] was a racist" and "the Uchiha were justified" is a valid interpretation of the story. But at the same time, I doubt that this was ever intended by Kishimoto.
I have talked about this at length in another post of mine, in which I analyzed Kishimoto's most likely intent and how exactly this information is relevant to us with a look at authorial intent in fiction. But the TL;DR version is that Japan is not exactly very sensitized to themes of racism and the "Curse of Hatred" is never framed as racist propaganda but exposition only. The lore also lines up with Kishimoto's personal views on how grudges are responsible for war (instead of corruption or racism) and the Uchiha's curse might be a metaphor for that.
In other words, the Curse of Hatred is real in canon. Even if it's a massive red flag and deserves to be criticized.
What Is The "Curse of Hatred" Even?
I have to admit, it's been a while since the last time I watched Naruto from start to finish, so I had to use the sources listed by the wiki rather than relying on my own findings and I might be biased. Because of that, I'd prefer everybody to regard my findings as headcanon or interpretation (especially further toward the end) rather than undisputed fact.
As far as I remember, the exact wording "Curse of Hatred" is only ever used by Obito. While not using the same wording, the curse is also referenced by Itachi, Hagoromo, and Tobirama who each have their own understanding of it. Unfortunately, we have no idea where exactly this wording or concept originated and we have no idea what exactly causes the Curse of Hatred that Obito refers to.
Hiruzen, Koharu, Homura, and even Danzo, while potentially influenced by Tobirama's teachings, do not reference the Curse of Hatred at all, at least not in relation to the Uchiha Clan itself.
Now here's the first one of my findings: The Curse of Hatred is supposed to be some sort of involuntary biological or cultural inclination causing Uchihas to become consumed by hatred but it is also something voluntary - a Nindo. While the former could be considered a "curse" in the traditional sense, the latter is definitely not.
For the Nindo, it is supposed to be some sort of antithesis to the Will of Fire. Because of that, it is not limited to the Uchiha but, according to Tobirama and Obito, closely associated. As explained later on in this post, most Uchihas do not follow this Nindo.
Core aspects of the Curse of Hatred as a Nindo:
Valuing a precious few above the many
Directing your hatred at those who took away your precious few
Growing stronger from those feelings of hatred (for the Uchiha, reflected in the form of the Sharingan)
A Biological Inclination?
Now back to Tobirama's theory, due to the narrative framing, we will assume his words to be truthful for the sake of this analysis. However, I will provide links to other people's posts delving into the fantasy racism discussion.
Tobirama is racist and his theories cannot be trusted.
Tobirama is not racist and there is validity to his theories.
I myself do not completely agree with either of these, but they might be interesting reads for you. If you do not agree with either of them, please keep it to yourself and do not bother the original creators.
Tobirama's theory goes as follows:
The Uchiha feel love and hate more strongly than other individuals
The strength of the Sharingan and the Uchihas' hatred are correlated
In a fit of hatred, odds are an Uchiha will commit evil
It is nowhere mentioned that the Uchiha are more likely to feel hate - only that their hatred is worse than the average person's and puts them at risk of being swayed by hateful ideologies.
A Cultural Inclination?
Aside from Tobirama's theory, multiple characters comment on the historical origin behind the Curse of Hatred.
We are talking, of course, about Indra. Obito explains that Indra's values and his hatred (particularly what later became the Nindo of the Curse of Hatred) were passed down to his descendants - the Uchiha clan. Tobirama's exposition implies the same thing.
Tobirama states that there "used to be a thought that [...] the basis of the Uchiha clan's strength was the power of their jutsu". It is very similar to Hagorormo's description of his son.
If this is correct, that would mean that the importance placed on powerful jutsu by the Uchiha Clan does inadvertently promote hatred due to the close correlation between hatred and the Sharingan.
But then again, in the story, it is shown that many Uchiha were not particularly fond of perpetuating hate and it is also implied that to avoid hatred, they sealed their emotions away. My interpretation is that they recognized the pain that hate could cause and then took steps to avoid it.
The Reincarnation Cycle
Sticking with Indra, another explanation that is frequently brought up is Indra's and Ashura's reincarnation cycle, which has also been described as curse-like or haunting and neverending. A fate seemingly set in stone.
There is not much more to say, other than that this theory suggests that Indra's reincarnates are just naturally inclined towards lusting for power.
The True Origin
Now, here's another thing that's constantly being overlooked. Aside from Obito's exposition in chapter 462 on the Curse of Hatred Nindo, Tobirama's exposition in chapter 619 on the Uchiha's tendency to follow said Nindo, and even Hagoromo's exposition on the reincarnation cycle in chapter 670, we get a vital piece of exposition in chapter 681.
Ladies, gentlemen, and anything in between. May I introduce to you...
...the real Curse of Hatred.
Or at the very least what I believe is the real reason why the "Curse of Hatred" exists in the world of Naruto.
From the very beginning, Zetsu approached Indra to take advantage of his hatred and turn it into a tool for his own purposes. He then did that again and again. He focused on the Uchiha in particular - Either because of the previously mentioned reasons (i.e. the Uchiha / incarnates have a tendency to become obsessed with hatred and power) or because the Uchiha were otherwise easy to take advantage of / manipulate (through Hagoromo's stone tablet that was left in the Uchihas' possession, an ill reputation thanks to Indra's / their ancestors' actions, etc).
In order to achieve his goal (awakening a Rinnegan), he had to somehow combine both Indra's and Ashura's power. It is implied that for this purpose, he instigated, perpetuated, and escalated wars and conflicts between Senju and Uchiha by pitting their reincarnates against each other. But unlike the wars he caused, Zetsu went unnoticed by the history books. Basically, he kept haunting the clans like a curse.
And without a doubt, had Zetsu never been there, 99% of the Uchihas' problems would not exist - regardless of what ideals, genes, or history the Uchiha hold. Indra's declaration of war, centuries of conflict, Madara's defection, Obito losing Rin, the Kyubi attack, the Uchiha massacre, Sasuke's defection, the 4th Great Shinobi War. All of these were directly caused by Zetsu or set off by a resulting chain reaction.
You could even think this further. Assuming the Uchiha clan really came across as "cursed", perhaps Tobirama's, Obito's, Hagoromo's and everybody else's explanations were just desperate attempts to make sense of anything. They didn't know that Zetsu was pulling the strings, so perhaps they tried to explain the Uchiha Clan's history in some other way. One that made sense without that missing variable.
What is actually going on here is, of course, uncertain. There are basically no definitive explanations on the matter and right now it looks like all of the above could be true and at the same time none.
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