The sun had barely risen the next day, casting soft rays of light through the window as I sat on the edge of my bed, contemplating the events of the previous night. The image of Kuroshi's intense glare still lingered in my mind, and the unsettling feeling that had settled deep within me hadn't gone away. I couldn't shake the sense that we were standing on the edge of something far darker, something that had been slowly creeping toward us for years. The battle had been only a glimpse of what was to come, and that terrified me.
A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. I turned, expecting to see Akane or one of the village leaders, but instead, Hana stood in the doorway, her expression serious. Her usual calm demeanor was replaced with a hint of urgency that caught me off guard.
"Riku," she said, her voice low, "we need to talk."
I nodded, pushing myself up from the bed. "What's happened?"
She stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room before locking onto mine. "It's about Kuroshi. He's awake."
My heart skipped a beat. "Already? But we—"
"We thought the same," Hana interrupted, her gaze unwavering. "But the interrogation team tried to question him, and something strange happened. His chakra was still heavily suppressed, but he didn't give us any information. Instead, he… he said something."
I frowned, sensing the weight of her words. "What did he say?"
Hana hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how much to reveal. "He said that the true war had only just begun. That we would never be able to stop what was coming. And then, just before we could restrain him again, he… he slipped into unconsciousness. Like he was waiting for something. Like he knew what was about to happen."
A cold shiver ran down my spine. "Waiting for something?"
Hana's eyes narrowed. "That's what bothers me. It's as if he's been anticipating our every move, Riku. Whatever is coming, he's just the messenger. And he's only the beginning."
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "He's a distraction."
"Exactly," Hana agreed, her voice grim. "He wasn't the threat. He was the herald. There's something much bigger at play here, and we need to be prepared for it."
I could feel the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of my stomach. We had underestimated Kuroshi—he wasn't just a rogue shinobi seeking power. He was part of something far more dangerous. His cryptic message about a war, about something that was coming, wasn't just idle boasting. It was a warning.
I didn't know what kind of war he was talking about, but the fear in his eyes, even as he was captured, told me all I needed to know. Whatever was coming, it was something we weren't ready for.
"Where is he now?" I asked, standing up.
"He's being held in a secure cell," Hana replied. "But I don't think we can afford to wait for him to wake up again. We need answers, and we need them now."
I nodded, feeling the urgency of the situation pressing down on me. "I'll go. I'll speak with him."
Hana didn't argue, her face a mask of determination. "I'll have someone accompany you. But be careful, Riku. We don't know what he's capable of."
I nodded again, already moving toward the door. As I passed her, I glanced back at her serious expression. "We'll get answers, Hana. We have to."
The trek to the interrogation room was brief but felt like an eternity. Every footstep seemed to echo in my ears as my mind raced with thoughts of Kuroshi's cryptic warning. The village had been on high alert ever since his capture, but even with that vigilance, I couldn't shake the feeling that something—someone—was lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
When we arrived at the cell, the air felt thick with tension. Two guards stood by the door, their eyes wary as we approached. They didn't need to say anything; their posture alone conveyed the unease that had settled in the village. Even though Kuroshi was restrained and held under heavy guard, the fear he had instilled in them lingered.
One of the guards stepped forward. "We've been keeping a close eye on him, sir, but we're not sure how long he'll remain unconscious."
"Understood," I replied, nodding. "I'll take it from here."
The guards stepped aside, allowing me to enter the small, dimly lit room. The air was damp, and the only sound was the faint hum of energy that surrounded the walls—reinforced to suppress any chakra use. In the far corner of the room, Kuroshi was seated, his hands bound to the chair, his face still a pale mask of indifference. His eyes were closed, but I could see the subtle twitch of his fingers—he was still aware of his surroundings, even if he wasn't fully conscious.
I stepped forward, my presence heavy in the small space. The guard who had accompanied me remained just outside the door, keeping a watchful eye. I took a deep breath and addressed Kuroshi, my voice calm but firm.
"You're awake, I see," I said. There was no response at first. "I'm not here to fight you, Kuroshi. I just want answers."
The man's eyes opened slowly, and his gaze locked onto mine with a quiet, calculating intensity. His lips curled into a faint, mocking smile.
"Answers?" he repeated, his voice raspy but steady. "You think I have answers? You think this was ever about you?"
I clenched my fists, trying to keep my composure. "I don't care about your games. Tell me what you meant by 'the war has only just begun.' What's coming, Kuroshi?"
His eyes flickered, and I saw a brief flash of something dark in his gaze. "You're asking the wrong questions, boy," he said, his voice almost a whisper now. "The war is coming for everyone, not just your village. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."
I took a step closer, my resolve hardening. "We'll see about that. You don't get to walk away from this. Not this time."
His smile grew wider, his eyes almost gleaming with a strange satisfaction. "You don't even know what you're up against. All of you are nothing but pawns in a game you can't even begin to understand."
I leaned in, my face close to his. "Then help me understand."
For a moment, Kuroshi's gaze softened, almost as if he were considering something. Then, in a voice thick with venom, he spoke his final words.
"You'll know soon enough, Riku Uzumaki. And when you do… you'll wish you never asked."
With those words hanging in the air like a dark omen, Kuroshi fell silent, his body slack against the restraints. He had given us nothing more than riddles and threats, and yet, I could sense the truth in his words. The war he spoke of wasn't just an attack on Uzushiogakure—it was an attack on everything. The pieces were already moving, and we had no idea how to stop them.
I turned and walked out of the cell, my mind racing. Hana was waiting for me outside, her expression unreadable.
"Well?" she asked. "What did he say?"
I looked at her, my expression grim. "He didn't give us much. But whatever is coming, it's bigger than we thought. And we're running out of time."
As I looked out over the village from the interrogation room, the weight of the unknown future pressed down on me like a suffocating cloud. The war was coming, and we had no idea what its true form would be.
But we would face it, together.