"Damn this weather! It was fine just a mont ago—why the hell is it suddenly thunder and pouring rain again?"
A Konoha ninja wearing a forehead protector sprinted through the storm, loudly complaining to his companion up ahead.
"Man, I really miss life back in Konoha.
If we were ho right now, we'd be sitting in an izakaya, drinking sake and watching the rain.
Not running around like drowned rats in this goddamn war."
His teammate in front of him could only shake his head helplessly and call back:
"Complaining won't get us back to Konoha.
Co on, let's pick up the pace—I rember there's a village up ahead.
We can find an empty house to shelter from the rain.
If we're lucky, maybe there'll be so leftover food too."
Hearing that, the man behind him lit up with hope.
"Man, that would be great!
I shouldn't have skipped breakfast this morning—my legs are about to give out from hunger.
And hey, if we find so booze, that'd be perfect!
There's nothing better than a drink on a rainy day to warm you up!"
The one in front cursed and laughed:
"You idiot, always thinking about drinking.
This is a war zone, where the hell do you think you'll find booze?
Stop dreaming!
Look—there, that house!
Looks pretty new and fancy. Bet they left so supplies behind."
The two dashed toward a large, well-kept house in the village ahead, completely unaware that behind them, with a quiet swish, a pale white head with moss-green hair popped up from the earth.
It was none other than White Zetsu, the one Madara had nad "Tobi."
Watching the two figures vanish into the rain, he grinned, flashing his sharp white teeth.
"If I were one of those wandering playwrights, I guess I'd narrate it like this:
'At this mont, the two of them had no idea just how drastically their fate would change the mont they stepped into that house.'"
With that, he silently erged from the ground and followed, ready to watch the tragedy unfold.
...
Inside the house. A red-haired woman sat inside, softly muttering complaints:
"Everyone else left, but you insisted on staying.
Said it was too dangerous to run with the crowd—that we'd get robbed or worse.
And look at us now!
Hanzō-sama has retreated, and now even if we want to leave, we can't."
Her husband snapped back, his tone impatient:
"How was I supposed to know the 'invincible' Hanzō-sama would lose?
I thought they'd drive Konoha back and we could keep living here like before."
"If we abandon this house, what do you think we'll have left?
We'd end up begging for food in Agakure, living worse than stray dogs.
You think that's better?"
At her husband's angry retort, the woman trembled slightly but said no more.
She just clutched her child tighter—a little boy with the sa fiery red hair.
The man glanced out at the lightning flashing across the sky, sighing:
"Let's wait a bit longer.
The rain's too heavy to travel now, and Nagato's still so young.
If he catches cold, it'll be a disaster."
"Our things are packed anyway.
We'll stay the night and leave once the storm passes."
No sooner had he spoken than a loud voice rang out from the downpour outside:
"We're here! Hurry up—maybe there's food inside!"
The family's faces went pale in an instant.
The man acted quickly, whispering urgently:
"Hide! Get to the storage room—hurry!"
BANG!
The door was kicked open, and two soaked figures barged into the house, shaking off the rain.
"Damn it! What shitty luck…"
One of them cursed under his breath but was quickly silenced as his companion covered his mouth.
Eyes sharp, the second ninja scanned the room carefully.
Once he was sure no one was there, he released his hand.
"Next ti, don't yell like that!
If there were any Rain shinobi hiding in here, you'd already be a corpse."
The one who'd been silenced clicked his tongue, unconcerned:
"Co on, the Rain ninja already got their asses handed to them by the Four Great Ones.
There's no way they're still hanging around here.
You're too paranoid."
Before his companion could scold him further, he quickly changed the subject:
"Look, if you're gonna nag , can it wait until after we eat?
I'm starving. Let's find sothing to eat first."
His companion's stomach growled in response, so he dropped the lecture and joined in searching for food.
Inside the pitch-black storage room, the red-haired man held his wife and son tightly, whispering:
"There's a small door in the back.
Take Nagato and get out of here quietly.
Don't make a sound—understand?"
Feeling his wife and child nod, the man finally let go of their mouths and motioned for them to slip out.
The woman led Nagato forward carefully.
But in the darkness, she didn't notice that Nagato's bag brushed against the edge of a table.
The table shook slightly.
A glass bottle perched on top wobbled—then toppled.
CRASH!
The sound of breaking glass shattered the tense silence, startling everyone in the house.
The two Konoha shinobi instantly drew their kunai.
"Who's there? Get out here!"
"RUN!"
The man shouted, bursting from the storage room to drag the two shinobi's attention.
He lunged, grabbing one of them by the wrist, trying to wrestle the kunai from his hand.
The other Konoha ninja, hearing "Run!" and assuming there were more enemies hidden, rushed into the storage room and, without thinking, stabbed at the shadowy figure inside.
A woman's scream echoed in the dark—
And then a child's panicked cry followed.
It was only after hearing those two voices that the Konoha ninja realized he'd made a mistake.
In horror, he shouted back to his partner:
"Stop! They're civilians!"
But it was already too late.
His comrade's kunai had already pierced the man's chest.
At that mont, a flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating the room through the window.
In that brief instant of light, the Konoha forehead protectors glinted, the blood on the floor shone vividly, and in the corner—underneath ssy red hair—were strange, pale-purple eyes.
The two Konoha shinobi stood frozen, their throats constricted by guilt and shock. One of them instinctively reached out, kneeling down and grabbing the boy's shoulders, trying to explain:
"I—I'm sorry. We didn't an for this to happen.
But please… please understand—it was a misunderstanding…"
Halfway through his sentence, he froze.
Because in that mont, he saw Nagato's eyes clearly.
What kind of eyes were those?
Just one glance made him feel a bone-deep terror that ca from the depths of his soul.
This was just a child, yet sohow, the shinonbi couldn't bring himself to et his gaze.
Nagato wasn't paying attention to their reactions.
All he could see were his parents' lifeless bodies lying in front of him.
The grief he had been holding back suddenly burst free.
With a loud, heart-wrenching cry, a wave of invisible force spread outward.
In an instant, both shinobi were blasted into the wall. When they hit the ground, blood stread from their seven orifices, and they moved no more.
Nagato collapsed, unconscious, beside his parents' corpses.
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