The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of two customers: a jonin and his young apprentice, probably around thirteen years old. Ren was immediately struck by the boy's hair, a peculiar brown that vaguely reminded him of something.
"Welcome," Yuki greeted. "Can I help you?"
"We would need some containment scrolls," the jonin replied.
" Sure, We have some explosive scrolls on offer too," Yuki added.
The young ninja chuckled, a confident smile on his face. "Oh, I don't need them. I have my own... methods for dealing with explosions." There was something familiar about the eccentric behavior, but Ren couldn't place it.
The boy noticed Ren's interested look and approached the counter. "I like your attentive expression, little one," he said with a friendly smile. "I'm Shiro Terumi, nice to meet you."
'Terumi!' The realization hit Ren like a bolt of lightning. Now he understood why that behavior seemed familiar - it was uncannily similar to Mei Terumi, the future Mizukage.
"Mizutani Ren," he introduced himself, trying to keep a neutral expression despite the excitement of the discovery.
" Mizutani...Ah, you are the Owner's son!" Shiro smiled even wider.
It was then that an ANBU appeared in the doorway of the shop, his presence seeming to lower the temperature of the room by several degrees.
"Kamiro-san," the ANBU said, addressing the jonin, his voice controlled but urgent. "You are required at headquarters immediately."
The jonin nodded curtly. "Shiro, return to the training base."
"But sensei..."
"Now." The tone brooked no discussion.
As the jonin followed the ANBU out of the shop, Shiro took one last look at Ren before disappearing into the morning fog. More unusual movements were drawing attention on the streets. Figures in dark cloaks moved quickly across the rooftops, while civilians seemed to be hurrying toward their homes.
"Something's wrong," Yuki muttered, her instincts honed from years of dealing with ninja telling her that something important was about to happen.
The next few hours were strange, suspended. The usual flow of customers had practically stopped. The few who came in spoke in low voices, exchanging meaningful glances.
"...the doctor was called urgently tonight..."
"...they say the council has been in a meeting for hours..."
It was in the early afternoon that the news began to spread, first in whispers, then in an increasingly loud murmur that seemed to pervade the entire village.
The Third Mizukage was dead.
A group of ANBU appeared in the main square, their silent presence commanding attention. The official announcement was brief, formal. The Third had passed away in his sleep, after a long illness. The council would meet to decide the succession.
Ren watched everything from the shop window, his face a mask of calm that hid the whirlwind of his thoughts. The death of a figure of power had a different flavor now, after losing his father. It was no longer a simple historical event from a story he knew, but something real, tangible.
"We should close," Yuki said after the last customer had left. His voice was calm, but Ren could see the tension in his shoulders. "On days like these, it's best to stay home."
As he helped his mother set up the shop, Ren noticed how his hands moved with mechanical precision, a reflection of years of preparing the shop for possible periods of instability.
"The last time we closed like this..." Yuki began, then trailed off, but Ren knew what he was going to say. The last time was when they had received the news about his father.
'Events are moving,' Ren thought as he watched the fog that seemed thicker than usual outside the window. 'And I'm not an observer anymore.'
That evening, the streets of Kirigakure were unusually quiet. No ninja were leaping across the rooftops, no merchants were calling out to late customers. Only the fog moved, thick and restless, as if it too could sense the change in the air.
During dinner, Ren and his mother ate in silence. Toshiro's empty seat seemed emptier than usual this evening.
"Your father," Yuki said suddenly, her voice barely a whisper, "always said that moments of transition are the most dangerous in a ninja village. Alliances change, old promises are forgotten..."
She paused, as if choosing her next words carefully. "In the coming days, strange... things may happen. I want you to be especially careful, Ren. No training alone, no exploring."
Ren nodded, noticing how his mother had unconsciously gripped the dinner knife with the precise grip of someone who has not forgotten her ninja training.
Later, in his room, he took the notebook out of the scroll. By the dim light of a candle, he began to write:
'The Third is dead. Events are accelerating. The council will convene to decide the succession, but I already know who the next Mizukage will be. The question is: how? How does Yagura become Mizukage so quickly? And the Sanbi...'
He paused, thinking back to the young Terumi he had met that morning. Another piece of the puzzle that didn't quite fit into his memories.
A sudden movement outside the window caught his attention. For a moment, he thought he saw a figure in a black cloak decorated with red clouds, but when he blinked, it was gone.
'My imagination?' he wondered.
Somewhere in the village, in a room lit only by the moon, an elderly figure was smiling in the darkness. His plan was proceeding exactly as planned. The doctor had done his job, slowly but surely, and now...
"Soon," Madara whispered into the night, "very soon..."
Ren closed his notebook, a sense of uneasiness growing inside him.
Through the thin walls of the house, he could hear his mother moving with the quiet efficiency of someone preparing for difficult times. The clanking of shelves being rearranged, the rustling of scrolls being filed away.
Instead of going to sleep, Ren pulled out the scrolls Tatsumi had given him that day. 'There must be something here,' he thought as he unrolled the first scroll on the theory of chakra flow. 'Something about barriers, about seals of protection...'
Tatsumi's words came back to him: 'A seal is a bridge between intention and reality.' His eyes swept over the pages, looking for connections, patterns that might be useful.
'If an explosive seal works through the interaction of elements,' he reasoned, making notes on a separate sheet of paper, 'then a barrier should work through the opposite principle - the stabilization and containment of chakra.'
A sudden cry from the street made him jump - not of pain or fear, but the cry of a child somewhere in the village. The sound made him even more determined in his search.
'I can't protect the entire village,' he thought as he continued to study, 'but I can at least try to protect this shop. For Kaa-san, for the memory of Tou-san.'
The hours passed as Ren continued to study by the candlelight. Chakra flow diagrams, theories of energy stabilization, principles of containment... anything could be useful, anything could be used to create something new.
'I don't need a complex seal,' he realized as the notes piled up. 'I need something subtle, unobtrusive. Something that can warn us of danger without attracting attention.'
That night, the fog of Kirigakure seemed thicker than ever, as if it were trying to protect its inhabitants from the changes that were about to come. Or perhaps, someone watching from a high window in the headquarters thought, the fog was merely hiding the silently moving shadows, setting the stage for the events that would transform the Hidden Mist Village into something much darker.
In the darkness of his room, Ren continued to study, determined to find a way to protect what remained of him.