"...Sigh."
Gamamaru did not answer directly. Instead, he let out a long, heavy sigh.
The complicated emotions contained within that sigh went far beyond the pain of any physical injury.
The way he looked at Indra grew even deeper and more inscrutable, filled with regret, profound sorrow, and even a trace of... an unspoken warning.
But in the end, he merely shook his head and remained silent.
That wordless response made Indra's heart tighten more than any answer could have. A powerful sense of unease washed down his spine like ice water.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Indra's voice tightened involuntarily as he stared at Gamamaru. "Your injuries... do they have something to do with me?"
"Ask no more, child." Gamamaru's voice was low and weary, as though it carried an unbearable weight. "There are some things that, even if you knew the truth, you would be powerless to change. You... can do nothing."
With that, he said no more. Instead, he turned and began to walk away with heavy steps, as though remaining for even another moment was an ordeal.
"Wait!"
Indra's expression changed abruptly. His body flickered like a phantom, and in an instant, he appeared in front of Gamamaru, blocking his path.
An icy, oppressive aura unconsciously began to emanate from him as he demanded, one word at a time:
"Explain yourself! What did you mean by that? What do you mean, I can do nothing?!"
On the surface, he was questioning the meaning behind Gamamaru's words. But within his heart, a raging storm had already begun.
In this shinobi world, where his father seemingly held everything within his grasp, what could possibly exist that even he, Indra—the eldest son of the Sage of Six Paths and an heir blessed with immense ocular power and talent—could do nothing about?
A terrifying answer crept into his mind like a poisonous vine growing in the darkness.
Unless the source of it all... was his father himself—the Sage of Six Paths, Hagoromo.
Could his father have been the one who injured Gamamaru?
No. That was impossible!
Indra had known since childhood that his father and Gamamaru shared a profound bond.
His father had once studied senjutsu under Gamamaru and received his careful guidance.
That debt of gratitude was as weighty as a mountain.
With his father's character and wisdom, how could he—how could he possibly—raise a hand against his teacher and dearest friend?
And yet, another voice within his reason screamed coldly: Looking across the entire shinobi world, aside from his father—the man who possessed the Rinnegan, sealed Kaguya, and was revered almost as a god—who else could possibly possess the power to injure the unfathomable Gamamaru so severely?
The foundation of his trust and the cruelty of his suspicions collided violently within Indra's heart, leaving his gaze sharper than ever—and utterly confused.
Gamamaru's evasive attitude seemed like silent confirmation of that terrible suspicion.
The forest beneath the night sky fell silent, save for the wind. Yet an invisible pressure seemed to fill the air, suffocating everything around them.
"Was it... my father?"
Indra's voice was low, but it carried a sharpness that allowed no evasion as he stared fixedly at Gamamaru.
Moonlight filtered through gaps in the leaves, casting shifting patches of light and shadow across his tense profile.
Gamamaru did not answer.
Once again, he sank into that suffocating silence. His aged body appeared especially heavy beneath the darkness of the night.
At last, all his unspoken words and complicated emotions became a sigh—far longer and heavier than the one before, as though it had been forced from the depths of time itself.
"...Sigh."
The sound echoed through the silent forest. It was no longer merely an expression of weakness or helplessness. It sounded more like a silent verdict—a cruel, wordless affirmation.
The air seemed to freeze completely.
Indra stood rigidly in place, his pupils contracting slightly.
Though he had already suspected the truth, having that suspicion confirmed so unmistakably still sent a chill through his heart—a mixture of shock, disbelief, betrayal, and a deeper, more instinctive fear.
Even the Chakra flowing through his body seemed to stagnate for an instant, as though the natural energy itself were retreating from this space that had suddenly turned bitterly cold.
Silence.
No one knew how much time passed. Perhaps only a few breaths. Perhaps an eternity of inner turmoil. At last, Indra found his voice again. It was low and hoarse, suppressing the emotions raging within him.
"Why?" he asked, each word seeming to force its way painfully from his chest. "Why... would he do something like this?"
Gamamaru remained silent for another moment. His ancient eyes, which seemed to have seen through all the world's affairs, rested upon Indra, reflecting both the moonlight and the convictions within the young man that were slowly beginning to crumble.
"Do you... truly wish to know the answer?" Gamamaru finally asked, his voice old and weary. "Some truths offer no path back once they are known. For you, learning this may not be a blessing. It may become an even heavier shackle."
Indra suddenly raised his head. The confusion and shock in his eyes gradually gave way to an almost obsessive resolve.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a cold smile.
"My path has always been mine alone to define."
"What matters to me, I will uncover and understand completely."
"What does not matter to me... could be swallowed by the end of the world, and I still wouldn't care."
"Tell me the truth."
Gamamaru looked deeply into his eyes, as though his gaze pierced through the present and glimpsed a future that had already been decided.
At last, he slowly nodded.
"Then answer one question for me." Gamamaru's tone suddenly changed. No longer weak, his voice became sharp and cold, striking directly at the heart of the matter. "Over these past years, have you ever felt that... your father, Hagoromo, is no longer the Hagoromo he once was?"
Indra's expression immediately darkened. His first instinct was to object—his father would always be the same powerful and wise man—but before the words could leave his mouth, that single question had already forced open the gates of memories he had long ignored or unconsciously explained away on his father's behalf.
Gamamaru gave him no chance to gather his thoughts. His voice was clear and cold, each word striking against Indra's heart like the toll of a bell of judgment.
"The Hagoromo of the past despised unilateral rule and tyranny above all else. His dream was to return the power of choice—and the path toward the future—to every living being in this world, allowing them to determine their own destinies."
"But," Gamamaru's tone suddenly sharpened, "ever since he founded the Ninshū and spread Chakra far and wide as a 'bond,' everything... began to change."
Indra stood frozen in place, his mind shaken to its core.
Gamamaru's words were like a key, instantly unlocking details buried within his memories—things he had once overlooked, or instinctively justified on his father's behalf.
Whenever his father made important decisions concerning the Ninshū, he often sought the opinions of others. But in the end, the final decision had always rested with his father's unquestionable will...
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