Chapter 50: The Stone Box in the Snow
Inside the Dungeon.
Under the Mizukage's lead, Liumu navigated a maze of traps and security seals. After half an hour, they arrived at the cell holding Jūzō of the Loquat.
"Lord Mizukage!"
The cell door groaned open. The Mizukage entered first. Upon seeing him, Jūzō immediately dropped to one knee, his voice a deep rumble of respect.
Then came the crisp, lighter footsteps. Liumu stepped inside.
"After all this time locked away, have you come to understand?" The Mizukage stood before the kneeling swordsman, looking down with an expressionless face. "The Executioner's Blade is a broken sword. Even if shattered, it can be reforged with the blood of its enemies. The blade does not change. But the one who wields it… can. You know well why your life was spared until now."
Jūzō kept his head bowed. "This one is eternally grateful for Your Excellency's mercy. But…" His voice hitched, a swell of emotion causing his chakra to surge violently within the cramped cell. "That child… he is the one exception. He is gentle, kind by nature. He couldn't bring himself to harm even a snow rabbit. I… I could not bear to see the last light in my own heart… be extinguished."
Though Liumu only knew the bare bones of Jūzō's story, the man's feelings were not hard to grasp. Under the Mizukage's rule, the Seven Swordsmen were instruments of horrors—the Kekkei Genkai "cultivation" plan, pitting children against each other in those dark prisons… it was little more than sanctioned murder. What did it matter if one "survived" such a process? They would become nothing more than emotionless puppets.
Jūzō's hands were steeped in sin. But in his eyes, the child he saved was the lone, delicate flower in a field of bloody snow. The child represented not just hope, but the last shred of Jūzō's own fading humanity. Dying for hope was not terrifying. The true horror was watching that hope be slowly, systematically snuffed out by the very darkness he served.
Now, Jūzō was prepared to die for his defiance. The Third Mizukage studied his resolute expression, then released a long, weary sigh. He turned and walked toward the cell door, speaking with his back to the prisoner.
"After tonight, you may leave. The Executioner's Blade… is still yours."
With that, the Mizukage departed, leaving Liumu alone with the swordsman.
Jūzō looked up, confusion flashing in his eyes as he studied Liumu. This person was no villager of Kiri.
"Don't look at me like that," Liumu said, cutting to the chase. "I'm here about Haku."
"Haku?!"
"Her origins. Everything you know."
Liumu chose not to release Haku from the Time Chamber. If she wished, she could perceive everything happening outside through his senses.
"And who are you to Haku?" Jūzō's shock deepened, a sudden, wild thought striking him. "Could it be… you are of her clan?"
Liumu: "…?"
It turned out Haku was not originally from Kirigakure. She was an orphan from a remote, frozen stronghold in the far northern reaches of the Land of Water—a place near the edge of the known world.
Years ago, while competing for his place among the Seven Swordsmen, Jūzō had stumbled upon this place during a covert mission. According to his recollection, Haku's homeland was a veritable city of ice, inhabited by a hardy, white-haired people. But even then, the settlement was in decline. On that entire island, fewer than twenty souls remained. Haku was the youngest among them.
When Jūzō prepared to leave, the people of the ice city refused to abandon their home. But to preserve their dwindling lineage, they entrusted their youngest child—Haku—to his care.
Upon returning to Kirigakure, the Kekkei Genkai Acquisition Plan had just been initiated. It was then that Haku's Ice Release bloodline first manifested.
"Haku's parents were already gone in the Ice City," Jūzō continued, his voice growing somber. "But they left a small stone box for her."
"A stone box?" Liumu pressed. "What was in it?"
"I do not know," Jūzō answered truthfully. "I never opened it. When I brought Haku back, she was not yet four. To help her truly integrate into Kirigakure, to let her past rest… I buried the stone box, the last token of her old life, beneath an ancient tree ten miles east of the village."
"Take me there."
"Them?"
Outside Kirigakure's walls, Jūzō stared in stunned silence at the heap of his fellow Swordsmen—Kushimaru and the others—unconscious by the ruined gate.
"Oh, them." Liumu glanced over dismissively. "Just some… helpful individuals. If not for their directions, I might not have found you so quickly."
Under Jūzō's guidance, they trekked for an hour through the deepening snow, arriving at the foot of a towering ancient tree, its bare branches clawing at the grey sky. In this world of endless white, the ancient tree stood as the sole testament to enduring life.
Jūzō dug through the frozen earth with his bare hands until his fingers scraped against stone. He pulled out a small, unadorned stone casket and handed it to Liumu.
He watched Liumu, his own curiosity about the box's contents flickering in his eyes.
"Don't look at me like that," Liumu said. "It's not mine to open, and I won't."
As he spoke, the stone box vanished from his hand into thin air.
"Space-Time Ninjutsu?" Jūzō breathed, shocked.
Liumu didn't answer. Seeing the complex mix of loneliness and relief on Jūzō's face, Liumu let out a soft, knowing chuckle, as if speaking to himself.
"Heaven watches the deeds of men. Some things are fated." He echoed the Mizukage's words. "The blade does not change, but the wielder does."
Under Jūzō's puzzled gaze, Liumu suddenly turned, a cryptic smile on his lips. "Let me tell you a secret. There is a man… seemingly unreliable, like a discarded watermelon rind. But when he finally decides to turn his back on the clan that raised him… the 'Seven' you know will cease to be seven."
Jūzō: "…???"
The wind howled, whipping the falling snow into a furious, blinding dance. The gale swept across the desolate plain, layering Liumu's cloak and bald head with a thick coat of white.
In the distance, the snowfield stretched to the horizon. Faintly, carried by the wind or born in his mind, he could hear the sound of heart-wrenching sobs.
Liumu couldn't bear to disturb Haku. All he could offer now was silent companionship.
The three-day deadline was up.
On the shore, Minato, Tsunade, and the others stood by their vessel, watching a figure streak toward them across the water. They welcomed him aboard with relieved smiles.
Ding. Congratulations, Host, on completing the hidden mission 'Dusty Letter from Home.' Timely reward triggered. Please select reward category.
As soon as Liumu stepped onto the dock, Tsunade grabbed his small, cold hand and pulled him toward the warmth of a central fire, chafing his fingers gently between her own.
Listening to the system's prompt, Liumu immediately selected: Summoning Contract.
"What about… her?" Minato asked softly from across the fire, noticing Liumu's solitary return.
Liumu chuckled, then tapped a meaningful finger against his own temple.
Minato: "…???"
Before leaving, Liumu had told them about Haku. Seeing him return alone, they could only assume she had chosen to remain in Kiri, unable to accept his offer of a new life.
But…
Only Liumu knew the truth. And it was the most helpless part of the whole situation.
Because… gods, this girl can cry. The quiet, heartbroken sobbing in the back of his mind had barely ceased during the entire two-day journey back.
So, to make better time, Liumu had simply… kept her tucked away.
(End of Chapter)
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