The gates of the Earth Country town loomed ahead, carved directly into a sloping cliff face. Rather than wooden beams or plastered walls like in Fire Country, everything here was stone — shaped, polished, and fitted with the geometric precision only a nation of masons could achieve.
Even from a distance, I could feel the weight of it.
Not oppressive.
Not hostile.
Simply… solid.
Like the land itself.
Kanna slowed beside me, her breath catching.
"It's… all rock…" she whispered.
"Indeed," I said, stepping forward. "They don't have to worry about their homes rotting from around them, not even burning; these buildings will survive a lot."
The first thing Kanna noticed was the sound.
Not the cheerful chaos of Fire Country markets, or the soft murmurs of Waterfall villages.
The Earth Country had its own rhythm:
Metal striking stone.
Stone grinding against stone.
The deep hum of furnaces.
The steady, ordered flow of people.
There was life here — but it was quieter, more purposeful.
And the people reflected that.
Sturdy farmers carrying heavy sacks of grain.
Craftsmen with soot-stained hands.
Miner families with dust still clinging to their clothes.
Merchants hauling crates reinforced with rivets and banded plates.
Their clothing favored earthy tones — browns, deep reds, slate grays. Fabrics were rougher, built for endurance rather than beauty. Even children wore practical boots and thick coats.
It made us stand out far more than we had so far. While we had always drawn eyes for our clothes, their bright red hair and my own stunning beauty…
Everywhere we went, people would stop and stare at us, and they didn't even bother hiding it. In some ways one could say that these people were truly honest.
Simple honest folks.
Yet with a firmness to them.
"They all look so… serious."
"Hard work breeds discipline," I said. "This nation was shaped by mountains. Every field must be carved. Every road must be broken from stone. They take pride in what others would abandon."
And it showed.
Stores were built of the same stone as the walls — squat, sturdy structures with carved patterns above the entrances. Nothing ornamental, but everything durable. Even the street lamps were stone pillars with inserted chakra crystals, giving off a steady amber glow.
The ground beneath our feet was tiled, not dirt.
Kanna blinked. "They paved the whole town?"
"Of course," I said. "Mud slows movement. Dirt becomes dust. Stone endures."
"I didn't think someone like you would understand us so well."
The voice came from behind us — warm, deep, and confident.
Kanna jumped so hard she almost dropped Karin, letting out a startled squeak entirely unworthy of an adult woman.
"Calm down, Kanna," I said. "You have no need to fear. With me here, what could possibly happen?"
"Indeed, little lady," the stranger said with an easy laugh. "Your companion here is one impressive kunoichi. One of the sharpest sensors I've ever seen. I didn't manage to sneak up on you at all."
"It's not as though you were trying," I replied, still not turning to face him. "And skulking around would have made for a rather poor first impression."
"Hah! True enough," he chuckled. "I'm not fond of creeping around in shadows unless I have to — and this hardly seemed like one of those times."
He stood openly, posture relaxed, hands visible, chakra steady but coiled — the stance of someone who knows he is strong and sees no need to posture. He placed himself deliberately between Kanna and me, where my reactions would be least hostile.
Experienced.
Confident.
Not foolish.
"Hm," I said softly. "Even so, you did not come alone. That would have been the real surprise."
"Oh, heavens no," the man laughed again. "My old man would never let me wander off by myself. He was half tempted to come greet you personally — apparently anything is better than drowning in paperwork."
"I would have been surprised to see the venerable Tsuchikage here," I said. "Although… also relieved. Refusing him would have been uncomfortable."
Behind me, Kanna whispered, "Kaguya-hime… you know him?"
"Not personally," I replied. "But I know who he is. He's rather famous around these parts — and his bounty isn't small."
"Hey now," the man protested, waving his hand dismissively. "Be careful talking about bounty prices out loud. My guards might get the wrong idea."
The two Iwa shinobi who had accompanied him stiffened slightly at that, as if silently agreeing he was exactly the kind of idiot who would joke about it in front of an S-rank threat.
Kanna swallowed. "Ah— then, sir… how should we address you?"
The man straightened with a confident grin.
"Let me introduce myself properly. I am Kitsuchi, proud jōnin of Iwagakure."
"And," I added mildly, "the son of the current Tsuchikage, Ōnoki of Both Scales. Jōnin Commander of Iwa's main forces. One of the most important people in the entire Land of Earth."
Kitsuchi scratched the back of his head, grimacing.
"You make it sound much more dramatic than it is. I'm just a hardworking shinobi doing what needs doing."
He smiled — broad, warm, genuine.
Yet with pride behind his eyes. He was a highly proud man, that much I could see at a glance, even with my back to him.
"But I am here on behalf of my father."
He clasped his hands behind his back, posture shifting from casual to formal in a single smooth transition.
"And I would very much like to speak with you, Kaguya-hime. My father was… intrigued by your arrival."
I tilted my head slightly.
"Yes, I expected him to send someone, though not someone as important as you," I replied.
"Well, it isn't every day someone as famous as you enters the Land of Earth, nor your companions, despite our history with them." He stepped carefully around that particular subject.
"The role your village played in the fall of Uzushiogakure."
I gave him no softness.
No politeness.
No face.
I simply said the truth.
Kanna gasped sharply and stepped back, clutching Karin tighter, as if Kitsuchi himself had suddenly become dangerous.
Kitsuchi… did not flinch.
He only sighed.
"That really isn't necessary," he said, voice steady, almost weary. "And it wasn't as though we were the only ones involved. The real masterminds were Kumo and Kiri. We merely ensured those two didn't get all the benefits."
His tone held no remorse.
Only pragmatic honesty.
Kanna's breath hitched. "Benefits…? You call destroying a whole village—"
"Kanna," I said softly, stopping her with only her name.
Kitsuchi held up a hand, not defensive, not confrontational — simply steady.
"I won't sugarcoat it," he said. "Yes. Benefits. That's how the world works. Villages move to secure their interests. If they don't, they fall behind. And in war?" He exhaled slowly. "Those who hesitate die."
It was brutal.
But not false.
"And besides," he continued, glancing briefly at Karin and then back at me, "none of us expected the Uzumaki to be wiped out completely. We didn't go there planning a massacre. We expected a siege… not a slaughter. Kumo and Kiri went far beyond what even we anticipated."
The admission was careful.
Calibrated.
And entirely in line with the stories circulating through the Land of Earth — a raid that became something far more destructive because other hands pushed it there.
Whether it was the truth… even I couldn't say.
I had already taken my place within the Hyūga clan when Uzushiogakure fell. My true body might have known more, had it not been sealed away, but my memories ended long before that war.
I would not know the full truth until either my plans — or Zetsu's — reached their conclusion.
Still, the whole affair had always smelled wrong.
Suspicious.
Contradictory.
The purpose of attacking Uzushio had been simple:
steal the bloodline
and
cripple their sealing monopoly.
Yet none of the villages gained much from the assault.
Kumo had been the most eager — they coveted the Uzumaki bloodline desperately.
Yet look at what they achieved:
Only three known Uzumaki survived the fall.
Perhaps a few more scattered in secret.
Barely enough to count on two hands.
Not enough to build a bloodline.
Not enough to rebuild a clan.
So the question remained:
If they wanted survivors… why did none survive?
If they wanted a bloodline… why destroy every root it had?
If I had to guess…
someone interfered.
Someone who preferred the Uzumaki gone entirely.
Someone who had spent centuries nudging the world toward stagnation and cyclical war.
But I would not know more until I had the opportunity to speak with him again.
Kitsuchi waited patiently as these thoughts drifted through my mind, reading nothing on my face.
Kanna, meanwhile, trembled — overwhelmed by politics far older and crueler than she understood.
"We talked about this before, Kanna. The villages and the shinobi move only for their own benefit, only because someone wants them to act. A shinobi is a tool, and their villages are the tools of nations." I reached over and gently patted her shoulder.
Something little Karin took advantage of to grab my sleeve happily.
Even I couldn't help but smile at that. "It's in the past… we all have to move on from the past."
Kitsuchi exhaled slowly, perhaps relieved that the tension had eased. "Indeed, rather than think about the past, we should think about the future, and Iwagakure would be happy to be part of your future."
I nodded and booped little Karin on the nose, causing her to let go of my sleeve and allow me to pull my hand back. "Indeed, I was planning to show Kanna around the city, perhaps you can be our guide? She knows little of the local culture."
Kitsuchi brightened at my suggestion, shoulders relaxing, his earlier tension melting into the same easy confidence he'd introduced himself with.
"I'd be honored," he said. "Showing two… no, three visitors around is a welcome break from my normal duties. And I'm sure my guards already appreciate that I won't drag them straight into a political negotiation."
Behind him, the two Iwa shinobi visibly loosened their stance — as if relieved the S-rank kunoichi before them was not about to vaporize their commander for an ill-timed comment.
Kanna managed a small bow. "Th-thank you… Kitsuchi-sama."
"Just Kitsuchi is fine," he said with a grin. "Titles make things stiff, and Father says I have enough stiffness for three men."
"That much is true," I muttered.
He barked a laugh. "You sound just like him already."
We began walking deeper into the stone city. The streets widened, leading toward a central plaza where merchants shouted prices over the steady grind of stone mills. Shaped stone pillars lined the edges, each carved with geometric patterns unique to its artisan. Kanna stared openly at everything, soaking in the culture of the Earth Country as if it were another world.
Kitsuchi watched her reaction with a soft chuckle. "Most outsiders are surprised the first time. Fire Country villages are too warm, too chaotic… too loud. Here, everything is orderly. Reliable. Strong."
"Much like the people," I said.
He puffed up slightly. "We try."
Kanna lifted her head. "You must all feel very safe here."
Kitsuchi nodded. "Indeed, you won't see what happened in Konoha happen in Iwa, so you would indeed be safe there if you were willing to settle down — all three of you."
His words caused me to pause. "What happened in Konoha?"
In turn, he looked surprised at my question, before realizing something. "Right, you have been in Waterfall for a while, haven't you? So I guess you haven't heard the news."
His pause was very deliberate, made to draw my curiosity.
Yet I was indeed curious, so I bit. "What news?"
(End of chapter)
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