The sun blazed overhead, casting a golden glow across the land. A brilliant blue sky stretched endlessly, unmarked by a single cloud. The air was still and warm, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of summer. It was a day of breathtaking beauty, a sight that could inspire awe in even the most jaded people.
If one squinted hard enough, high above the endless blue, they might catch a fleeting glimpse of something—a small dot zipping across the sky at an impossible speed.
Moving with grace and precision, Kūga was barely visible, a blur against the vast expanse. His form cut through the air at a speed that would seem unbelievable to those watching from below, traveling at an astounding 80 to 90 miles per hour, fast enough to traverse vast distances in mere minutes.
The sensation of flight was exhilarating, the wind whipping through Kūga's white hair as he soared.
His body felt weightless, as if it had become one with the sky itself, carried by currents only he could command.
His senses were sharp, honed by the vastness of the sky as he scanned the landscape below, his Aetheric energy humming through him, guiding him.
His eyes glimmered, sharp and calculating, as he watched the world pass beneath him... forests, rivers, small villages. Everything was blurry as he raced overhead.
It was a moment of serenity for him, suspended in the heavens above the chaos of the world below.
Up here, in the endless skies, he was free. Free from the burdens of the land and its conflicts.
The wind was his companion, the sun his guide. He couldn't help but feel a sense of peace, a rare feeling for someone like him, always caught between battles and destiny.
As Kūga flew, his thoughts drifted to his recent encounter with Jirō Ikeda and the absurdity of the situation.
The village leader, so sure of himself, reduced to rubble with little more than a flicker of Kūga's Aether. It made him chuckle a little bit. These small men with their fragile egos... they were like children, grasping for power they could never understand.
The brief fight had been more amusing than anything, a distraction on his journey.
Yet, despite the amusement, Kūga felt a familiar sense of longing.
This small village was just another in a string of places that had failed to provide him with any meaningful clues about Aether users or anything remotely connected to his true purpose.
His search for others like him, people who wielded Aether, seemed to stretch endlessly before him, with each new location yielding nothing but more mundane faces and mundane lives.
Kūga's gaze shifted to the horizon, where the sky kissed the earth in a hazy blur of blue and green.
He pushed his Aether senses outward, extending them far beyond his immediate surroundings, but just like in the village, there was nothing. No trace of the Aetheric energy that was so intrinsic to him, so unique to his existence.
"Another dead end," Kūga muttered to himself, his voice barely audible against the rush of wind. Yet, despite the lack of results, he remained undeterred. He knew his journey was far from over. Somewhere in this vast world, there had to be others. He wasn't the first Aether user, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. He just needed to find the right trail.
He shifted his focus back to the path ahead, the speed of his flight increasing slightly as he steeled his resolve.
Below him, the landscape was changing.
The dense forests gave way to rolling hills, and in the distance, he could see the faint outline of mountains. The sun continued its slow arc across the sky, its light glinting off the rivers and streams that wound their way through the land like veins of silver.
Kūga's thoughts wandered once more.
His mind replayed the ancient shrine he'd found, with its faded engravings and whispers of a forgotten civilization of Aether users. The memories he'd encountered there, the fragments of knowledge left behind by a long-gone people, were tantalizing.
They were a reminder that there was still so much about Aether that he didn't fully understand. And there was power in that understanding, power that could change everything.
He smirked to himself, the wind tugging at his hair as he flew faster. "I just need to find the right path," he thought aloud, his voice lost to the roar of the air around him.
As he flew, his eyes caught something in the distance, an outline of a settlement, perhaps a larger village or town.
It was located between two hills, smoke rising from the chimneys, indicating life and activity. Kūga slowed his speed, descending slightly as he approached, his keen eyes scanning the area. This place seemed more substantial than the small villages he'd passed over earlier, more alive with movement.
"Maybe this place will have something interesting," Kūga mused, a glint of anticipation in his eyes as he angled toward the town.
As he descended, Kūga allowed himself a brief moment of hope. His search had been long and often fruitless, but each new place brought with it the possibility of discovery, of finding someone or something that could shed light on the mysteries of the Aether.
And even if he didn't, there was always the promise of adventure.
With the sun blazing high above, its warmth on his back, Kūga made his way toward the settlement, ready for whatever lay ahead.
.
From above, Kūga spotted a growing settlement sprawled beneath him, and his sharp eyes fixated on the line of caravans and people waiting at the entrance.
The guards stationed there were visibly more trained than others he had seen along his journey. They weren't as formidable as the elite forces of the Land of Fire—those who would one day serve Konohagakure—but for this place, they seemed sufficient.
Descending without being seen, Kūga approached the long line of people. His gaze caught sight of a bearded farmer at the end of the line, sitting beside a horse-drawn cart filled with fresh cabbages.
The farmer, wearing a tattered straw hat, appeared weary, the dry air having cracked his lips. Kūga, sensing an opportunity for information, made his way over.
"Excuse me, have you been here long?" Kūga asked, his voice casual as he walked up to the farmer.
The man turned toward Kūga, his tired eyes blinking slowly. "In this village? Yes," the man grumbled, scratching his beard. "But this line? It's my first time seeing it this long in a while."
Kūga's eyes moved over the line, the guards, and the settlement itself, scanning for any peculiarities. Then, with a curious expression, he asked, "Long while? Did anything happen?"
The farmer sighed heavily, leaning back against his cart. "I've only heard bits and pieces from folks in line, but apparently, there's been a big commotion inside. They say an heir of some influential family in the village was assassinated. Now, they're keeping a close watch on who comes and goes."
Kūga tilted his head slightly, taking in the information. Without a word, he reached behind him and conjured a flask of cold water using his Aether, handing it to the farmer. "Oh, that's too bad," Kūga said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather.
The farmer's eyes widened in surprise, staring at the flask as though it had appeared out of thin air. Grateful, he eagerly accepted the water and took a long drink, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Thank you, lad. That was kind of you," the farmer said, wiping his mouth. "Name's Fūgo, by the way. What should I call ya?"
"Kūga," he replied with a brief nod.
The farmer nodded, clearly appreciative.
"Aren't you worried about your crops? I hear it takes a while to grow those," Kūga asked, glancing at the cart full of cabbages.
Fūgo let out a hearty laugh, his voice full of rustic charm. "Ah, no worries there. Just harvested them this morning. They'll last a few days before spoiling."
Kūga smiled, though his mind was already working behind the scenes. Without making a show of it, he subtly infused the cart with cold energy from his Aether, wrapping the cabbages in an invisible chill. '
That'll last a while', he thought, amused at his small act of kindness.
"Well, stay safe, Fūgo-san," Kūga said with a slight wave.
The farmer tipped his hat, smiling warmly. "See you, Kūga-san!"
Satisfied with the interaction, Kūga walked away from the line, but the wheels in his mind were already turning.
Once far enough from the crowd, he enveloped his body with Aether and manipulated the light around him, rendering himself invisible to the naked eye.
He wasn't concerned about sensors. After all, no one could detect Aether except for him, a fact he had confirmed with Tobirama, the best sensor he had ever known, aside from himself.
Kūga rose quietly into the air, hovering above the village like a silent ghost.
From his vantage point, he could see the layout of the settlement, the crisscrossing roads, and the various buildings.
Expanding his Aetheric senses, he scoured the village for any traces of Aether, searching for even the faintest signature.
But there was nothing.
He clicked his tongue in frustration. "Tch, not here either," Kūga muttered to himself, the disappointment clear in his tone. He hovered there for a moment longer, scanning the horizon as he pondered his next move.
The village below was slightly bustled with life, but none of it held the answers he sought.
.
Kūga floated a little higher, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. It wasn't long before something caught his attention. A small, unassuming hut nestled miles away from the settlement.
Isolated, almost hidden by the dense trees and rolling hills, it seemed utterly out of place.
His curiosity sparked, but he quickly shook his head, muttering to himself, "Curiosity killed the cat... but I'm not a ca—" he paused, the absurdity of his own thoughts interrupting him. "What the hell am I even saying?"
With a soft sigh, he angled his flight toward the hut. As he drew closer, a sudden and familiar sensation made his heart race.
Aether.
It was faint, but unmistakable. After just a day of searching, he'd finally found a trace of it. His eyes widened in surprise, the electric thrill of discovery coursing through him. Stopping a mile away, Kūga hovered silently, contemplating his next move.
'What should I do?' he pondered. Various strategies flickered through his mind, though he realized his invisibility was still active.
It would give him the upper hand, at least for now. Quietly, he approached the hut, gliding through the air with ease, stopping just a few meters from the entrance.
The scene before him was unexpectedly peaceful.
Crops, neatly tended to, lined the area surrounding the hut. The walkway leading to the door was pristine, carefully maintained, as though someone had taken great pride in keeping the area clean.
He smirked slightly, 'A woman, no doubt. No man would be this tidy... unless they're Tobirama.' He chuckled at the thought, imagining the ever-meticulous Tobirama disinfecting everything in his path.
'That guy's a germaphobe.'
Kūga stepped quietly toward the door, and as he entered the small, dimly lit space, the atmosphere shifted. It was heavy with sorrow.
There, kneeling beside a simple bed, was a woman. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs, her head bowed as tears streamed down her face. The raw emotion filled the room, thick like a cloud of despair, but Kūga stood silent, observing from the shadows.
'Ah... I know this situation all too well,' he thought, feeling a pang of familiarity. 'Too bad for her...' There was a coldness to his thoughts, a detachment he couldn't shake, yet beneath it all, he felt a faint stir of empathy.
His Aetheric senses focused on the woman. Her energy was low, but there was still a flicker, it was there—she could harness it. 'She has potential. I can help her,' he mused.
But this wasn't the time. He'd already intruded on something deeply personal, something intimate. The weight of grief in the air wasn't his to disrupt. Silently, he backed out of the hut, leaving the woman to her pain.
The door creaked shut behind him, and he walked to a nearby log chair, sitting down with a casual ease. He glanced back at the hut, his expression unreadable.
It didn't matter to him how long she took to emerge. Days could pass, and he'd wait. Time wasn't a concern for Kūga. He had found what he was searching for. Now, he only had to decide what to do with it.