Black Zetsu felt the cold air shift as three figures stepped into the dim light. The two women remained silent and steady, while the man in the front offered a mocking, shallow bow.
"A simple greeting for an ancient ghost," the man said, his voice smooth and devoid of fear.
The Murakami, Black Zetsu thought, his form rippling with deep irritation. These pests are still crawling through the dirt after all this time.
The Murakami Clan was a lineage built upon the foundations laid by the Martial Ancestor during the Era of the Sage of Six Paths.
While the Sage's descendants fought over spiritual energy, the Ancestor's three original students carved a path of physical absolute, forging a clan that remained hidden from history.
These three standing before Zetsu carried the same distinct, crushing weight in their stance as those original disciples. It was a presence that had always been a thorn in Black Zetsu's side, disrupting his subtle manipulations for centuries.
"You are a persistent bloodline," Black Zetsu replied, his tone dripping with disdain.
A sharp surge of alarm rang within his mind.
Black Zetsu knew their history of guarding the natural order, making their presence here a breach in his absolute secrecy.
"We know the master you serve and the mother you seek," the man continued, his eyes glinting in the dark.
Black Zetsu recoiled, his shadowy form expanding in a hiss. These students were a variable he had monitored for centuries, yet their timing was too precise.
Carrying the legacy of Martial Ancestor, they were a blade held to his throat, threatening his entire design for the world and the resurrection of his mother.
Black Zetsu stared at the three figures. He felt the heavy pressure of their essence, a sensation he had perceived since the first disciples of the Martial Ancestor walked the earth.
This weight in the air is identical to the boy I sensed earlier, Black Zetsu thought, his form trembling. The same density. It is as if the first one has stepped out of the myths and back into the flesh.
The realization hit him like a physical blow. His shadowy form rippled violently against the stone as he looked at the three leaders. They weren't just followers; they were sentinels for a returning sun.
"Don't tell me..." Black Zetsu whispered, his yellow eyes widening into glowing orbs.
"You have always been quick to see the truth, Shadow," the man interrupted, his voice cutting through the gloom. "He is the one. Our teacher's... successor. He has finally arrived to claim the seat that was left empty."
Black Zetsu recoiled, his disdain turning into sharp dread. After centuries of waiting, has the source itself returned? He mused bitterly. I thought that presence was extinguished, yet the boy carries the same ancient, crushing gravity.
The man's smile widened, confirming Zetsu's fears.
The silence in the cavern grew heavy, signaling that the cycle had finally come full circle.
Black Zetsu felt the weight of the man's words like a physical chain. He began to sink back into the floor, his mind already churning with new, darker calculations.
The Great Nations are still playing their petty games of war, Zetsu thought, his form blurring. I must gather the current state of affairs. I need to know if any other village has felt the shift.
One of the women shifted, her eyes cold as she prepared to strike. The man calmly raised his hand to stop her. He watched the shadow vanish with a look of quiet indifference.
"Why let him go, Ryoma?" the woman asked, her voice sharp with a desire for blood. "We could have ended that ancient stain right here."
"Unless we recklessly perform the Reaper Death Seal or other sealing methods, it is impossible to kill that fossil," the other woman replied, her tone steady.
She stood with her arms crossed. "Do you really want to waste Sensei's plan for this...trifle thing?"
The readied woman let out a long, heavy sigh, her shoulders relaxing as the tension left the air. She shook her head slowly, looking at the ceiling of the cavern.
"Natsumi is right, Sumiko," Ryoma added, his gaze following the path Zetsu took. "We shall see it soon enough. I will order someone to deliver a message to him. If he's just like Sensei, he will realize once he reads the letter."
...
The gates of Konoha loomed ahead, their red wood scarred and tall. Yoichi felt the shift in energy as he stepped closer, the village humming with a life he had almost forgotten.
Finally back, Yoichi thought, his gaze neutral.
The security is standard, but the atmosphere is heavier than the open wilderness.
He passed the checkpoint and made his way to his mother's modest home.
Inside, the air was still and smelled of dried herbs.
As he moved toward the table, his eyes caught a set of scratches on the wood.
They looked like natural wear, but the pattern was too deliberate.
"A shadow moves through the dirt," the marks conveyed to his sharpened mind. "The ancient ghost of the Sage's mother is tracking your scent. Exercise extreme caution —Murakami Clan."
Yoichi stood still, his mind working through the implications. He did not know who the Murakami Clan was or how they had entered, but the warning was clear.
Someone was here, he mused, his eyes narrowing.
They know about the watcher in the dark. The game has begun much sooner than I expected.
Once his ears perked up, the door creaked open, and Naoko stepped inside with a relieved smile.
Nobuyuki and Akira followed, their presence instantly warming the quiet room.
"You're finally home, Yoichi," Naoko said, embracing him briefly. She looked him over, her eyes searching for any signs of the harsh journey.
Nobuyuki leaned against the wall and grinned. "We thought the mountains got the better of you. You look a bit different, kid."
Akira gave a sharp, observant nod. He noticed Yoichi's stiffness but kept his tone light. "The village felt empty. It is good to have you back."
Yoichi relaxed his stance, though his mind stayed locked on the scratches on the table. He felt the shift from the mountain's silence to the noise of the living.
"It is good to see you all," Yoichi replied, his voice calm. "The trip was long, but it seems I wasn't the only one keeping busy."
The family shared a meal of hot food, the steam rising as Yoichi described the high mountain passes and different landscapes he had crossed.
Naoko watched him with a gentle smile while Nobuyuki and Akira listened to his tales, filling the room with a sense of relief and warmth.
Once the plates were cleared, Yoichi set his chopsticks down and prepared to leave.
He thanked his family and stepped back into the cool air of the streets, heading toward the training grounds to seek out Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru.
"Where the hell did you go?! We're still waiting on that merchant proposition!" Tsunade yelled, rushing forward to shove Yoichi toward the grass.
The blonde girl beamed with competitive heat, pigtails bouncing while she checked the traveler for injuries.
"Don't hog the spotlight! I knew the guy would be back today!" Jiraiya shouted, stumbling over his sandals to join them. A wide grin stretched across the loud boy's face as he delivered a heavy clap to Yoichi's back.
"Welcome back. Your temperament feels... heavier," Orochimaru noted, stepping from the tree shadows. The pale student watched with a quiet, analytical gaze, golden eyes tracking every movement with intense curiosity.
Yoichi stood his ground, maintaining a neutral expression despite the physical sting and the noise. The familiar warmth of the bond was clear, yet the memory of the Murakami Clan's warning remained sharp.
"We must settle the pill logistics first; the merchants are waiting," he then stated, pushing the Murakami mystery aside. He outlined a rational supply chain for the village's medicinal goods.
The group listened, grounded by his focus on trade and resources.
"The councils are fighting over supplies, but your body is vibrating like a tuning fork," Tsunade raised an eyebrow, interrupting their discussion.
She sensed a physical density that surpassed her medical knowledge, noting how his iron-like presence made her own strength feel restless.
"The air feels heavy when he breathes," Jiraiya added, his usual loud energy replaced by focus.
"You have truly entered the Innate Realm, merging your spirit with the world," Orochimaru whispered.
Yoichi began to explain the intricacies of Innate Realm and the mystical energy called Qi. The three of them were carefully listening while the sunset cascaded into their small figures, ears perking up, and looking at his serious face as he described.
"We should head to the Senju compound. Grandma Mito has been asking about you for three years," Tsunade said, her voice bright with relief. She led the way through the shaded estate paths, clearly happy that the group was finally whole again.
They reached a stone garden where Yoichi moved with a rhythmic gait, sensing the ancient seals in the walls. He approached Mito and explained that the merchant network was ready but needed her political oversight to manage the council.
Mito stood among red maples, her presence radiating a calm but crushing power. She watched them approach, her eyes flickering with a momentary, hidden spark of surprise as she felt the weight of his new aura. The elder quickly masked her reaction with a gentle smile, though she recognized his spirit now stood on a different plane.
"Three years is a long time to leave an old woman waiting, Yoichi," Mito said, reaching out to pat his cheek with a steady hand. "I care little for the ledgers today. I am simply glad you are home. I will handle the elders and their greed so you can focus on your work, but stay close to the village for a while."
Yoichi bowed, his spirit remaining still even near the massive energy of the Nine-Tails within her. He felt the weight of her protection, realizing her support was the final piece for his logistics.
Yoichi pulled out the charcoal rubbing and handed it over with a steady hand. "Oh right. Mito-san, does this name ring a bell? I found it carved into my desk," he said, his voice flat and practical.
Mito took the paper, her eyes scanning the rhythmic, jagged carvings. A visible tremor of shock passed through her, her fingers tightening until the charcoal smudged against her skin.
She looked at the paper with a complicated, heavy expression, her breath hitching as she realized the mark was fresh.
"The Murakami were not of the Warring States. They belong to an era far older, when the world was still untamed," Mito began, her voice regaining a forced edge of steel.
She explained that they were the original keepers of the earth's secrets, a clan that existed before the rise of the Senju and Uchiha. They were thought to have faded into myth long before the first villages were even a dream.
She turned her gaze back to Yoichi, her eyes wide with a haunting realization that made her hesitate.
"To see this name now is impossible," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But seeing you stand there with that look in your eyes... Yoichi, you look exactly like my sensei did in his youth. The man who taught the First Hokage everything he knew."
Yoichi felt a rare spark of surprise flicker in his chest, his rational mind racing to connect the dots.
He looked at the matriarch, noting how her hands still shook as she stared at him. The revelation that he shared the likeness of a man from the era of legends changed the entire scope of Murakami's warning.
________________
The twist has finally begun!
Thanks to doomslayer24 and Daemonic_Dragon for the Power Stones. I'll write the next two chapters, I promise. I'm just doing personal things on the other hand hehehe sorry.