Yahiko asked.
Obito pointed at Uzumaki Nagato with a solemn expression and said, "The Rinnegan… Since ancient times, it has been our organization's mission to guide those who awaken it onto the right path."
"You know something about my eyes?" Nagato pressed.
Those eyes, even to their owner, were shrouded in mystery.
"You are the reincarnation of the Sage of the Six Paths' will, dreaming of a stable world," Obito declared.
Half a month later.
With the major ninja villages currently depleted of forces, the wars within the Land of Fire had significantly dwindled. The group smoothly crossed the border of the Land of Fire and arrived at their agreed destination: the Land of Rain.
The sky was blanketed by thick, dark clouds, casting a gloomy hue that made it feel like perpetual dusk. Fine threads of rain fell like intricately woven silver strands.
"As expected, the Land of Rain lives up to its reputation—constant rain," Shimizu remarked, pulling the hood of his white cloak over his head. The cloak's edges were embroidered with red patterns.
The others were dressed similarly, draped in cloaks as they pressed forward through the rain.
"Yeah, I wonder how they grow crops here," Namikaze Minato mused.
With rain falling year-round and scarcely any sunlight, any crops that managed to survive in the soil would likely be drowned by the water.
"Probably some kind of crop highly adapted to water, or they import from other nations," Nohara Rin offered her guess.
"Maybe," Kakashi replied, his face hidden in the shadow of his hood, expression unreadable.
"Let's keep moving," Minato urged the group onward.
Shimizu occasionally glanced up, observing the environment and architecture of the Land of Rain. They had arrived at a town.
Raindrops fell silently from the gray sky, landing in a city brimming with a steampunk aesthetic. Towering buildings stretched into the clouds, their intricate, interwoven structures resembling trees in a forest of steel. Tall towers with pointed rooftops were lined with drainage pipes, the water flowing through them producing a low, rumbling sound—like the city's very breath.
This was perhaps the most sci-fi-like place in the ninja world. Compared to Konohagakure's leisurely, nostalgic charm, the Land of Rain felt like a steampunk nation nestled within the shinobi world.
The country had long been plagued by internal strife, with foreign powers densely entrenched here. It had served as the battleground for the great nations' wars in the past. Without Hanzo's iron grip, the Land of Rain might have already crumbled and become a vassal of some larger nation.
"Welcome, everyone," a ninja greeted as they walked through the town.
Judging by his attire, he was from Sunagakure. He led Shimizu and the others into a building where several other shinobi were already gathered.
"Hello," Minato responded with a smile.
They entered to discuss matters.
Shimizu and his group stood behind Minato. The discussions revolved around predictable topics: disputes over interests, who had crossed whose borders, who had caused how many casualties, and how much compensation was owed. There were also matters of post-war reconstruction.
In short, it was all tedious stuff that Shimizu had little interest in. The outcome was already set in stone.
Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen would step down after this, and Konohagakure would face a turbulent undercurrent as candidates vied for the position of Hokage. In truth, the candidates had already been narrowed down. When Konoha's leadership and the daimyo discussed who would become the Fourth Hokage, only two names were on the table: Orochimaru and Namikaze Minato.
No one from the other clans—not Uchiha, not Hyuga, nor any other skilled shinobi—was mentioned. Orochimaru had only Shimura Danzo's vote. When Sarutobi Hiruzen spoke, everyone else, including the daimyo, backed Minato.
Was Orochimaru's reputation lacking? In the last Shinobi World War, he had risen to fame as one of the Legendary Sannin. Yet, he was overshadowed by the younger Minato.
Some things, it seemed, were simply fated. Sarutobi Hiruzen had always favored Minato.
"Obito should be around here somewhere," Shimizu thought to himself.
Perhaps he could find a chance to make contact with the Akatsuki later. Konan's Paper Release was an intriguing technique.
In front of a town.
"Minato-sensei told us to move freely around here," Nohara Rin said, gazing at the persistent drizzle. The endless rain seemed to dampen her mood.
A land forever shrouded in dark clouds felt all too much like her own life.
"Kakashi, want to check out what's ahead?" Rin asked, noticing Kakashi's melancholic expression.
"No," Kakashi replied curtly. "Where's Shimizu?"
"He went to a noodle shop up ahead. Said he wanted to try the local flavors of the Land of Rain."
"Oh," Kakashi nodded.
Silence fell between them. Every time Rin tried to engage Kakashi, his responses were limited to "oh," "ah," "hm," or "is that so?"—short, dismissive answers.
Rin's expression darkened, and she walked off alone, leaving Kakashi standing in place.
"Forgive me, Rin," Kakashi whispered.
Someone like him didn't deserve to remain her friend. From now on, he would protect her from the shadows, fulfilling his promise to Obito. The more Rin cared about him, the more Kakashi felt like a despicable person—a traitor who spied on his comrades and broke his promises.
At the noodle shop, Shimizu quietly ate his meal. This round of negotiations was happening earlier than in the original timeline. The future had shifted.
Through his simulator's deductions, Shimura Danzo would still seek out Hanzo to collaborate in eliminating the Akatsuki. Meanwhile, the Akatsuki would pass through this very town, stopping briefly to rest.
"They're here," Shimizu thought, glancing toward the door.
A group entered, clad in black robes. A long red line ran down the left side of their attire, with buttons faintly visible underneath. Their waists were wrapped in gray-white armor, secured by a cloth belt.
"Konan, I heard there are lots of like-minded shinobi in nearby villages who want to join us. That's great news!" the leader, an orange-haired youth, said with a smile to the angelic girl beside him.
"Yahiko, be cautious of those who might have ulterior motives," Konan warned.
"We should trust people," Yahiko replied, waving off her concern. He turned to the red-haired man beside him. "What do you think, Nagato?"
"I agree with Yahiko," Uzumaki Nagato said, his skin pale to an almost sickly degree, making his red hair stand out like blood.
"Boss!" Yahiko called out, ordering several bowls of noodles. The Akatsuki members sat down, with Yahiko in the center, Nagato to his right, and Konan to his left—right next to Shimizu.
"This lovely lady, I hear you're a member of the Akatsuki?" Shimizu said, sizing up Konan.
The Book of Shinobi described Konan as: The alluring apostle of the divine, playing either a gospel of salvation or a requiem of destruction. The word "alluring" was fitting.
As a child, Konan had been adorable. After spending time with Nagato and Yahiko, she had transformed into a spirited rebel. She wore light purple eyeshadow and a cold lip piercing below her lower lip. That was just her face—Konan also had a piercing in her navel! According to the official artbook, it was a near-square ring with four small dots at the corners, connected to a larger central dot.
On most people, such a style would look out of place, but Konan's delicate features and refined beauty, paired with her neat blue bun, gave her the aura of a radiant angel.
"Who are you?" Konan asked, turning to Shimizu with a slight frown.
She had never seen this strikingly handsome man in the Land of Rain before. He was likely a foreign shinobi.
As expected, Shimizu said, "I'm a ninja from Konohagakure." He showed them his Konoha headband.
The three Akatsuki members' expressions shifted subtly. Though Jiraiya's teachings had softened their animosity toward Konoha shinobi, Nagato's parents had died at the hands of Konoha ninja. Knowing their comrade's tragic past, how could Yahiko and Konan feel any goodwill toward Konoha? Jiraiya's influence had only tempered their resentment, not erased it.
"So, Konoha ninja, what business do you have with us?" Yahiko spoke up.
"I've heard about your Akatsuki in the Land of Rain. Rumor has it you're an organization dedicated to spreading peace."
"Of course. That's why we came together," Yahiko said calmly.
It was his loftiest ideal—to bring the dawn's light to the Land of Rain and eternal peace to the world. That was the very reason behind the Akatsuki's name.
"I'll provide some funding. In exchange, you help me gather intelligence. How does that sound?" Shimizu proposed.
"You're from a great nation. Why would you need intelligence from a small organization like ours?" Yahiko countered.
"Konoha may be powerful, but that doesn't mean it can extend its reach into the Land of Rain. With the war nearing its end, the great nations will start pulling back their forces."
"The war is ending?" The three exchanged glances.
Could the rumors be true? Was Sunagakure about to sign a peace treaty with Konohagakure?
Finally, Yahiko asked, "What kind of intelligence are you looking for in the Land of Rain?"
"Don't look at me like that," Shimizu said, taking a sip of his noodle broth.
The noodles here had a unique flavor, perhaps due to the local plants. "I want you to gather information on orphans—female orphans, specifically. Find them according to these standards and bring them to me. I'll pay you 20,000 ryo per person."
Shimizu produced a sealed scroll detailing certain actions. Many of the movements described surpassed the limits of ordinary people, requiring exceptional talent to perform without injury. Only those with sufficiently strong bodies could be selected as test subjects for the Heavenly Curse Mark of the Tenma.
From the original series to Shippuden, Orochimaru had spent years experimenting, using thousands of test subjects. Those who could perfectly adapt to the Curse Mark were exceedingly rare. Most were defective, suffering damage to their lifespan or psyche.
"These orphans—I'll give them a new home," Shimizu said, looking at the three.
Yahiko's expression softened slightly, but a trace of wariness remained. In this world, some adopted orphans for human trafficking or to satisfy personal desires. He wanted to discern which kind of person Shimizu was.
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