I Believe We Don’t Talk Enough About This Uchiha Goddess. She’s Presented As The First Izanami User

Naori blinked slowly as she observed the reaction of the pink-haired woman.

The woman was fast, she wouldn’t deny that.

She didn’t flinch at the kunai pointed at her, though it finally gave her an idea of what the pink-haired woman was.

‘A kunoichi…?’

Naori tilted her head slightly to one side, noticing how weak the woman looked. It seemed like she was about to faint at any moment.

Having seen and confirmed firsthand that the woman was, in fact, no threat to her or anyone —at least not in that state—, she deactivated her Sharingan, as if attempting to reassure her.

She spoke again, this time more softly, in a calm tone to avoid startling her.

"You have very quick reflexes… I was wondering if you were lost and needed help."

The pinkette looked around, trying to navigate where the heck she was.

The fourth shinobi war didn't go as planned, and survivors were forced to retreat and flee to seek shelter from the moon goddess. Then that idiot, Naruto did something and smacked the ground with chakra infused and used some sort of reverse summoning and now she ended up here.

". . . Where am i?" Sakura looked around. She was still in her jonin pants, one of her sleeves still missing, the burn mark still eminent on her right arm, it stung still like a son of a bitch. The girl was covered in scratches. bruises and her candyfloss hair was covered in dirt, but her priority now lay in finding out where the fuck she was and how to get back where she belonged, even though she was dangerously low on chakra, so she had trouble sensing around her surroundings as well.

"This forest is like a maze!" She whined after a good thirty minutes of walking, flopping down on the ground tiredly.

She wandered, trying to navigate as best as she could within the forests, unaware of the pair of eyes watching her.

// A little hello from my favorite muse, Sakura!

Naori watched the pink-haired woman from her position.

Her clothes—unlike anything she had ever seen before—were worn, as if she had come out of a tough fight. Her hair, the color of cherry blossoms in spring, was dirty and slightly disheveled, giving her a messy appearance.

She noticed how the woman could barely walk. A civilian? Impossible; her arms bore muscles that symbolized strength. A farmer’s daughter? Unlikely; they were too far from the nearest village that wasn’t under the Uchiha clan’s domain.

Was the woman the daughter of a clan member? She didn’t think so. Her hair was far too striking, and if that were the case, word would have spread of an Uchiha with that hair color. Another clue that disproved her deduction was the woman’s eyes, resembling those jade-colored gemstones.

Her Sharingan spun, trying to discern whether this was a trap to lure someone in. That seemed the most likely explanation.

The Uchiha clan had been fractured by internal war between those who hungered for more power, causing many to turn on one another. Some used decoys, forcing civilians or travelers to play the role of bait to lure in the more compassionate members of the rival group, only to ambush them.

She was about to turn away, convinced this was nothing but a trap, when the pink-haired woman suddenly sat down, trying to catch her breath and sweating.

Naori noticed the small tremors in the woman’s arms; she was exhausted. That was when she realized this was no trap after all.

Slowly, but cautiously, she approached the woman from behind. As soon as she stopped behind the pink-haired stranger, she spoke in a calm, gentle tone:

“Excuse me, miss.”

@crystalstylehexagon // 🖤

May I ask you for a drawing of Naori and nagisa for Valentine’s Day? Maybe them sharing their first kiss during their Senju/ uchiha wedding ceremony <3 no pressure ofc

The gasp that would follow this kiss ✨

hiii!!

naori is my favorite character 🌗thanks for making a blog for her!

In fact, Naori is also happy to be here. She says that she's not real but she wouldn't mind having a little fun here <3

“…” smiles softly from her little safe space of introverts.

just random sad bird clan things i drew and never posted

Outfit for Naori Uchiha

Y’s Yohji Yamamoto Fall 2016

emerges from hiatus thinking once again about Naruto; specifically the Uchiha 🖤

While the young woman explained her situation, Naori listened in silence, not interrupting her even once. As she spoke, Naori observed her features: the girl must have been at least seventeen years old.

Too young. And yet, in the world they lived in, parents would rather send their children to warfields to learn how to survive than face the pain of burying them.

Her eyes fell on the burn mark on the girl’s right arm, noticing it only then. Naori was no stranger to such injuries, not in times like these, when many of her companions ended up wounded.

When the girl finished speaking, Naori paused for a moment, thinking carefully before responding in a soft but calm tone:

“I understand. I can offer you a place to rest and tend to your wounds.”

Without waiting for a verbal or physical response—or even searching for a look of gratitude or relief in the woman’s jade-green eyes—Naori turned around and gestured gently for her to follow.

“Come. I’ll guide you there. It shouldn’t take long to reach it.”

Naori started walking, making sure to keep a slow pace so the wounded woman could follow without difficulty.

The pinkette looked around, trying to navigate where the heck she was.

The fourth shinobi war didn't go as planned, and survivors were forced to retreat and flee to seek shelter from the moon goddess. Then that idiot, Naruto did something and smacked the ground with chakra infused and used some sort of reverse summoning and now she ended up here.

". . . Where am i?" Sakura looked around. She was still in her jonin pants, one of her sleeves still missing, the burn mark still eminent on her right arm, it stung still like a son of a bitch. The girl was covered in scratches. bruises and her candyfloss hair was covered in dirt, but her priority now lay in finding out where the fuck she was and how to get back where she belonged, even though she was dangerously low on chakra, so she had trouble sensing around her surroundings as well.

"This forest is like a maze!" She whined after a good thirty minutes of walking, flopping down on the ground tiredly.

She wandered, trying to navigate as best as she could within the forests, unaware of the pair of eyes watching her.

// A little hello from my favorite muse, Sakura!

Naori watched the pink-haired woman from her position.

Her clothes—unlike anything she had ever seen before—were worn, as if she had come out of a tough fight. Her hair, the color of cherry blossoms in spring, was dirty and slightly disheveled, giving her a messy appearance.

She noticed how the woman could barely walk. A civilian? Impossible; her arms bore muscles that symbolized strength. A farmer’s daughter? Unlikely; they were too far from the nearest village that wasn’t under the Uchiha clan’s domain.

Was the woman the daughter of a clan member? She didn’t think so. Her hair was far too striking, and if that were the case, word would have spread of an Uchiha with that hair color. Another clue that disproved her deduction was the woman’s eyes, resembling those jade-colored gemstones.

Her Sharingan spun, trying to discern whether this was a trap to lure someone in. That seemed the most likely explanation.

The Uchiha clan had been fractured by internal war between those who hungered for more power, causing many to turn on one another. Some used decoys, forcing civilians or travelers to play the role of bait to lure in the more compassionate members of the rival group, only to ambush them.

She was about to turn away, convinced this was nothing but a trap, when the pink-haired woman suddenly sat down, trying to catch her breath and sweating.

Naori noticed the small tremors in the woman’s arms; she was exhausted. That was when she realized this was no trap after all.

Slowly, but cautiously, she approached the woman from behind. As soon as she stopped behind the pink-haired stranger, she spoke in a calm, gentle tone:

“Excuse me, miss.”

@crystalstylehexagon // 🖤

"yeah i know the hurt is worth it" (Itachi Uchiha)

Naori blinked softly at the man's words. His pale skin, dark circles and stress marks under his tired eyes revealed the young man's pain without the need for him to tell her.

'How much did people hurt him? How many people failed him?' She asked herself. And despite the pain she could see in those eyes as deep as the legends she heard as a child about the open sea, she also saw the fierceness in his gaze beneath the tiredness and emptiness of his eyes. He is like a broken warrior with his sword about to break but still fighting for a goal.

"I know that too" was the only thing she answered knowing that no one else but him and her along with others would say the same.

@musedbyalli