After Genji's confidant departed to deliver his orders, he didn't realize that a pair of scarlet eyes were silently watching him from the shadows.
The moment he leaped into the mist-drenched night outside the mansion, a dark figure emerged several meters ahead. From within the thinning veil of fog, those crimson eyes glowed like twin embers, freezing him in place.
Alarmed, the man drew his ninja blade and immediately averted his gaze but it was already too late. His body stiffened as though bound by invisible chains.
The figure stepped forward, calm and deliberate. It was Uchiha Gen.
With his hands clasped behind his back and his Mangekyō Sharingan glinting faintly in the mist, he asked coolly, "Where are you going?"
The man replied in a hollow voice, "To deliver Lord Genji's order."
"What order?" Gen's tone was mild, almost casual.
"To moderately aid Mei Terumi's escape."
"And if she fails to escape?"
"Then Mei Terumi must die. Lord Genji's will must remain untainted."
Gen's eyes narrowed slightly, the tomoe in his Sharingan spinning faster. "That's not what he meant. You misunderstood. Genji's real order is to aid the Mizukage's pursuit. Mei Terumi must not live."
The man blinked, confusion flickering for a heartbeat before Gen's eyes began to glow.
Uzume.
A crimson ripple of ocular power flooded out. The man's consciousness bent beneath the pressure, his memories and will subtly rewritten.
"…Yes," he murmured blankly. "I… remembered wrong. Mei Terumi must not live."
Gen smiled faintly, then vanished like smoke.
The man blinked, finding himself alone in the mist. "Strange… why was I standing here? No matter. I must hurry. Mei Terumi must not live!"
He disappeared into the fog, his footsteps fading.
It had to be said, Mei Terumi's ability to survive was extraordinary.
Even though the Fuguki had intentionally held back, escaping Hidden Mist Village under such an overwhelming pursuit was a feat that demanded both cunning and strength.
But as more forces joined the hunt, regular Anbu and loyalists of Genji, her situation deteriorated rapidly. All she could do was hide and endure.
By five in the morning, the fog-shrouded mountains northwest of the village were alive with movement.
A team of Hidden Mist ninja, wearing standard-issue vests, moved in a staggered search formation across the slopes. To the untrained eye, their pattern looked loose and disorganized, but in reality, it was a net—if one ninja encountered an enemy, the rest could converge in seconds and encircle their target.
"Huh? What's that?" one of the scouts whispered, looking up.
The others followed his gaze.
In the night sky above the misty ridgeline, two full moons gleamed with pale light—impossibly pure, impossibly bright.
Two moons.
For a moment, confusion stilled the entire formation. Then, without warning, both moons turned crimson, bleeding light across the clouds.
"Don't look! Close your eyes!" the squad leader shouted in horror.
Too late.
The blood-red rays washed over them like a tide. One by one, their expressions went slack, their minds hollowed out, eyes glassy under the scarlet glow.
They stood motionless—flashlights swaying gently in their hands—like puppets awaiting orders.
A shadow stepped out of the darkness.
Uchiha Gen.
His Mangekyō gleamed, the tomoe swirling lazily as Heaven's Mandate activated again. The red light pulsed rhythmically as his will sank into their minds.
"After crossing this mountain," Gen instructed, his voice low and steady, "search to the north. Mei Terumi is resting in a cave, recovering from her wounds."
He paused, then added, "The leading jōnin will present himself as Genji's messenger, claim that he was ordered to silence her. Then… deliberately let her escape northward."
"Yes…" the eight Mist ninja intoned in unison, faces blank and unmoving.
Satisfied, Gen waved his hand. A subtle pulse of chakra wiped away their recent memories, returning their minds to a seamless state of false continuity.
Then he snapped his fingers.
The world flickered, and Gen vanished into the mist.
As the echo of the snap faded, the eight Mist ninja blinked—conscious thought returning. Guided subconsciously by Gen's implanted suggestion, they resumed their patrol and soon located the faint alarm trap Mei Terumi had left near her hiding place.
Inside a damp mountain cave, Mei Terumi jolted awake the moment her trap went off.
She darted out, kunai in hand, emerald eyes sharp and alert despite the exhaustion in them. Several of her wounds were freshly bandaged; faint traces of dried blood stained her flak vest.
Figures landed around the cave in the mist, forming a ring of silhouettes.
"Katsuri…" Mei whispered in relief as she recognized one of them.
But that relief didn't last long.
"Mei," said the jōnin at the front—Katsuri—his voice heavy. "Don't blame us. You can't escape the Mizukage's hunt. To protect Genji from implication, he has ordered us to eliminate you."
His hand flicked down. "Go."
The seven chūnin around him surged forward at once.
Mei's eyes widened. "What…?"
The words cut deeper than any wound.
Though she had been ready to die in battle, this, being erased by her own allies, was something else entirely.
Disbelief twisted into anguish, and anguish into cold fury.
For years, she had trusted Genji, thinking him different from the corrupt officials who plagued the Village Hidden in the Mist. But in the end, he was no different.
Still despair was not surrender.
Even as her heart cracked, her instincts sharpened. Kunai clashed against steel. Steam hissed through the fog.
Lava Release: Melting Apparition Technique!
A wave of molten acid erupted from her lips, scattering the attackers. The chūnin scrambled back, armor sizzling. Mei spun, counterattacking with terrifying precision, her movements fluid and ferocious despite her injuries.
She refused to die here, not like this.
Some people, once cornered, give up. But Mei Terumi was not that kind of woman. She had lived through betrayal, through the blood mist, through the horrors of the previous regime. This despair was nothing new.
Even exhausted and wounded, she fought with the elegance of a storm.
If not for Gen's unseen interference, the battle might have ended evenly, both sides bloodied. But his influence ensured the pursuers never used their full strength.
After a tense struggle, Mei broke through their formation, sprinting into the night.
Behind her, a confused pursuer fell for one of her Shadow Clones and veered off course, buying her precious time.
Once she disappeared, Uchiha Gen emerged from the shadows.
His Sharingan glowed faintly as he drew a breath, extending his hand. Threads of ethereal energy reached into the fallen ninjas, absorbing the remnants of their thoughts and false memories.
A moment later, he conjured a few well-placed water-based slashes across their bodies; careful, controlled, surgical to make it appear as though Mei herself had killed them.
When he was done, he looked toward the dark horizon. "Go on, Mei. Let's see how far your will can take you."
By dawn, Mei had stumbled to the northern coast of the island. Her clothes were torn, her breathing ragged, but her spirit remained unbroken.
There, half-buried in sand, she spotted an old fishing boat. Its oars were cracked, its hull weathered by salt but it floated.
On the shore were footprints, recent and fresh.
After a moment's hesitation, she left a handful of coins and valuables as compensation, whispered a silent apology to its owner, and pushed the boat into the waves.
As the fog swallowed her silhouette, a figure in the clouds above smiled faintly.
Uchiha Gen, standing effortlessly upon drifting mist, watched her sail into the open sea.
His reasons for helping her weren't merely personal interest, though her strength and beauty were undeniably captivating. No, Mei Terumi was a seed. A symbol.
A woman who had dared to strike at the tyrannical Fourth Mizukage would, to the oppressed of Hidden Mist, become a hero.
And when the time came, a hero's voice could sway hearts far more effectively than force.
He folded his arms. "You'll be useful, Mei Terumi."
On the small boat, Mei rowed until the island disappeared behind her. Only then did she collapse against the bow, breath shallow, eyes half-closed.
After a long, silent minute, she stirred and searched for food—her body trembling from fatigue.
She knew she wouldn't last long without replenishing her energy and chakra. Desperation lent her strength.
Rummaging through the boat, she found a pair of plump sea fish, likely caught earlier by the fisherman who owned it. Relief flooded her.
Though weak and bleeding, she managed to prepare a makeshift fire and boil the fish with what little seasoning remained on board.
When she ate, there was nothing refined about it. Hunger stripped away manners. She devoured the soup with single-minded focus until her stomach ached pleasantly.
Leaning back, she closed her eyes for a moment—just a moment—and let the sound of waves lull her. Then she forced herself upright again, sitting cross-legged to meditate.
Her chakra reserves were dangerously low; the empty feeling inside made her uneasy. Slowly, carefully, she began to restore what she could.
After an hour, she curled up in the boat's cabin, too tired to continue.
Sleep came fitfully, never deep. Even in exhaustion, her instincts kept her alert. She was a survivor of the Blood Mist Village, no ninja from that era ever truly slept peacefully.
High above the ocean, a solitary white cloud drifted across the dawn sky.
Uchiha Gen stood upon it, eyes half-lidded, watching the small boat below.
He raised a hand and conjured a glowing sphere of chakra, which descended and sank into the sea below.
Moments later, the water shimmered and a faintly human face formed on the surface.
Gen pressed a finger to his lips. The face nodded, then submerged. The ocean beneath Mei's boat rippled, gently propelling her forward like an unseen current.
The boat skimmed the water silently, fast but stable, its motion masked perfectly by Gen's genjutsu.
When Mei began to stir, Gen wove another illusion, a sound-based sleep technique, that deepened her slumber.
With him secretly guiding the vessel, the search parties from Hidden Mist found nothing. The blockade failed completely.
By the time she woke again, Mei Terumi was beyond their reach.
A day later, her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked in confusion at the unfamiliar light pouring into the cabin.
Then, suddenly, she bolted upright and rushed outside, kunai drawn.
Her eyes widened. Before her lay not endless sea, but land—a beach bordered by rolling waves.
She'd drifted back?
Disoriented, she jumped down, testing the sand beneath her feet. She explored cautiously until she encountered a passing traveler—a hunter—and asked where she was.
"This is the Land of Whirlpools," he replied.
Mei froze.
Whirlpool? That was across the sea, days away from the Land of Water!
Even a warship sailing with favorable currents would take at least two full days to reach here. How could she have crossed that distance in her sleep?
And what of her pursuers? Had she somehow passed through their blockade unseen?
The hunter's wary gaze flicked to her Mist forehead protector and the weapons at her side. Whatever thoughts he might've had upon seeing a beautiful woman alone in the wilderness vanished immediately.
A shinobi, especially a Mist kunoichi, was not someone to provoke.
He bowed slightly and hurried off, leaving Mei standing there in silence.
Somewhere high above, Uchiha Gen smiled faintly. His task was complete.
Now was not the time for them to meet. Mei Terumi had her own path to walk and men foolish enough to covet her would not live long enough to regret it.
After all, the woman destined to become the Fifth Mizukage was no ordinary soul.
Three days later, deep within the rain-slicked tower at the heart of Amegakure.
The heavy metal doors creaked open.
Two men entered—both tall, cloaked in black with red clouds. One carried the Samehada wrapped in bandages across his back, the other a long blade resting on his shoulder.
Kisame Hoshigaki and Biwa Jūzō.
Because their fighting styles complemented one another, Kisame's monstrous chakra reserves and Jūzō's lethal precision, they often operated as partners within Akatsuki.
The room they entered was dimly lit. In the center stood two chairs, occupied by the figures of Pain and Konan, the paper-winged angel of Amegakure.
"What business brings you here?" Pain asked flatly, his ripple-patterned eyes unblinking.
Kisame grinned, sharp teeth glinting. "Leader, Jūzō and I want to recommend someone to join Akatsuki."
Pain's gaze didn't waver. "Who?"
"Through our contacts in the Hidden Mist," Kisame began, "we learned that Mei Terumi has been branded an S-rank rogue ninja for attempting to assassinate the Fourth Mizukage."
He continued, tone shifting into something almost respectful. "She's one of the few female powerhouses from the Mist, proficient in Water Release, and in possession of both the Lava and Boil Release bloodlines. Her strength already surpasses most elite jōnin. Given time, she'll reach Kage level."
Jūzō nodded. "Her current ability is no less than mine. And frankly, our group could use another woman. Maybe she'll get along with Konan-sama."
Konan's face remained expressionless. "I don't need companions."
Her voice was cool and distant, but after a pause, she added softly, "Still… a woman like that, hunted by her own village, might be worth recruiting."
Pain nodded slightly. "Your reasoning is sound. Very well—this mission is yours."
Neither Nagato nor Konan suspected hidden motives. Kisame and Jūzō had served the organization loyally, carrying out difficult missions without complaint.
"Understood," Kisame said, bowing. "Please await our good news, Leader."
"We'll bring her into the fold," Jūzō added with a grin.
Pain gave a curt nod. "Go."
As the door closed behind them, Konan turned to Pain. His expression softened, just slightly.
"You are the only woman among us," he said quietly. "It must be lonely."
Konan's eyes softened in return. "I'm not lonely," she said. "Not with you and Yahiko here."
Her smile was faint, fleeting—like a snow lotus blooming amid the rain.