The rain poured incessantly, its steady rhythm creating an oppressive atmosphere beneath a sky shrouded in gray clouds.
"Kill them! Slaughter them all!"
"Die!"
"Charge!!"
A rumbling of battle cries echoed under the rain-soaked sky.
Nearly a hundred shinobi clashed violently in the downpour. These shinobi were unusual; their ranks included both the elderly and young children, mostly men.
Among them were frail old men and women on the brink of death and boys no older than four or five.
Yet here, they all fought as shinobi, each wielding their weapons with desperation, driving their blades into their enemies, and using ninjutsu to strike them down.
The battle raged on for a long time.
Blood mixed with rainwater, spreading across the ground, while severed limbs and broken bodies littered the battlefield.
Eventually, the carnage subsided.
The rain washed away the blood, revealing the corpses that now covered the earth. Many of the bodies belonged to the elderly and children.
"We won! We've won!"
"Yeah, we did it!"
The victorious side cheered, though their losses were heavy as well.
Many had lost fathers, brothers, and sons. Yet, they had survived this life-or-death struggle, and to them, that was worth celebrating.
The defeated, however, lay lifeless, their entire force wiped out.
These two groups of shinobi didn't belong to any village. They were remnants of two ninja clans.
Although the Warring States period had ended, not all ninja clans had chosen to join or establish villages. Some remnants of the old era still clung to their way of life, continuing to fight and feud as they had in the past.
"Now that they're all dead, everything they had is ours—hahaha!"
A man laughed maniacally, his eyes bloodshot.
His son, in fact, all his sons, were dead. Their bodies lay beside him.
But it didn't matter. He could have more sons later. Victory in this battle meant that the women, the wealth, and everything else belonging to the defeated clan were now theirs.
"Come on, let's celebrate!"
One of the shinobi, likely the clan leader, shouted with fervor.
"Yeah!"
The others, lost in their frenzy, roared in agreement.
They charged toward the settlement of the defeated clan, leaving behind the corpses without a second glance. Their destination was the enemy base, now home only to the powerless men, women and children.
A few remained, standing amidst the dead, mourning their loss.
"Jiro…"
A boy, around sixteen or seventeen, knelt on the ground, clutching the body of a boy no older than eight.
Tears streamed down his face. This boy had been his brother, his last remaining family. Now, he was utterly alone.
"Ichiro, my condolences," another person said, approaching him.
He, too, had lost his father in the battle. But hadn't they all long since accepted that losing loved ones was an inevitable part of their lives?
"Why? Why do we have to fight these wars? Jiro was only eight! He was only eight! To hell with the clan! To hell with war!"
Ichiro's anguished screams echoed through the rain as his face contorted in rage, his eyes bloodshot.
The man beside him said nothing, silently standing by as Ichiro vented his grief.
Others stood in silence as well.
After a long time, they began to leave. With a simple Earth Release jutsu, they buried the corpses in the ground, leaving the battlefield seemingly peaceful once more.
…
In the rain, a lone figure slowly emerged. Hui, using his light-based abilities, had concealed himself and observed the entire battle.
"Shinobi villages, ninja clans, shinobi…" Hui murmured, deep in thought as he stood motionless in the rain.
It had been five months since he left Konoha.
Three months ago, he had arrived in this small nation and discovered the two feuding ninja clans.
Out of curiosity, Hui had hidden himself among the now-extinct clan to observe their future.
At first, the two clans had been evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand. However, internal strife over the position of the next clan leader had torn the defeated clan apart.
A key elite shinobi was framed and forced to his death, while others betrayed the clan, ultimately leading to its complete annihilation.
Bloodlines, power, betrayal…
This was a tragedy steeped in irony.
Hui had witnessed it all, from the first seeds of conflict to the clan's final extinction.
"How utterly ironic," Hui muttered to himself, shaking his head.
There was no point in watching further.
He resumed his journey.
Another month passed.
During this time, Hui witnessed many things: shinobi skirmishes, battles resembling those of soldiers, places that resembled hell on earth, and serene sanctuaries untouched by any strife.
Occasionally, he intervened when the injustices he encountered were too great to ignore.
After all, spiritual training didn't mean coldly observing the world from the sidelines. That path would only strip one of their humanity.
…
One day, Hui arrived in a familiar country, the Land of Rain.
Compared to other nations, it was far more chaotic. Battles between shinobi were common here, many involving the shinobi of Amegakure, who were vying for the position of village leader.
In a secluded cave, Hui sat by a campfire he had lit, roasting meat over the flames.
Though he didn't need warmth, as his body was impervious to heat and cold, he felt that sitting alone without a fire made him seem too detached.
Besides, roasting meat required fire.
The sizzling sound of fat dripping into the flames filled the air as Hui slowly turned the spit, watching the meat turn golden brown.
Outside the cave, a small girl peeked in cautiously, swallowing her saliva.
Suddenly , her stomach growled audibly. The sound was not loud, but the quite environment amde the sound very clear.
"Come in," Hui said gently, his voice carrying to the startled girl.
She hesitated, torn between fleeing and entering the cave.
In the end, she stepped inside.
It was a dangerous decision to make in such a country, filled with countless threats.
But something about the man in the cave made her feel he wasn't a bad person. After all, bad people didn't look this kind…
"Are you hungry? If you want, I can share some with you," Hui said, looking at the small girl, who appeared to be around four or five years old.
For some reason, she seemed familiar to him, though he couldn't immediately place why.
"I-, can I?" the girl asked nervously, her voice soft as her gaze remained fixed on the roasted meat.
She hadn't eaten anything for two days.
"Of course. But I think you'd do better with something lighter than this greasy meat. You've clearly gone without food for a long time," Hui replied casually.
He could sense her fragile life force and knew her body was weak.
"Where are your parents?" Hui asked, though he already suspected the answer.
"They…were killed," she said quietly, lowering her head.
"I see… Here, eat this first," Hui said, handing her a piece of bread from his bag.
"Eat slowly, don't choke. By the way, what's your name?" Hui asked as he watched the girl devour the bread ravenously.
"Konan. My name is Konan," she replied.
Hui paused for a moment before realizing.
No wonder she seemed familiar.
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