The Kusanagi Sword was thrust diagonally into the scorched earth, its blade coated in sticky blood plasma and etched with burn marks from lightning arcs.
Ryo's figure suddenly coalesced within the rippling distortion of space inside the mountain cave, like a shattered clay statue forcibly pieced back together. His left arm was charred black, burned to charcoal. Skin and muscle were completely carbonized, with bone faintly visible beneath.
Across his back, a massive laceration gaped wide, flesh curled outward, blood dripping from the tattered hem of his dark-red coat. Each drop struck the cold rock floor with a heavy, sticky sound.
"Ryo!" Nawaki's throat tightened, his pupils constricting. The pain in his ribs forgotten, he rushed forward in panic.
"Don't move!" Mikoto's sharp cry rang out, tinged with fear. In a flash, she appeared at Ryo's side. Her crimson Sharingan spun rapidly, piercing through the shredded remains of his clothing to reveal the horror beneath: bones riddled with cracks, internal organs displaced from shock, and faint traces of poisonous chakra gnawing at his heart.
The air in the cave froze. Only Ryo's ragged breathing and the crackle of the campfire remained.
"Go... go!" Ryo rasped, voice hoarse to the point of tearing. Each word dragged more blood from his throat. "Kakuzu... isn't dead... he could be... coming!"
His remaining right arm rose weakly, gathering what little chakra he had left, a flicker so faint it resembled a firefly in winter. Sweat mixed with blood trickled down his face, stinging his eyes.
Just as Ryo was about to perform another jutsu, Kaori suddenly stepped forward. Without hesitation, she stretched out her slender arm and said with unwavering determination,
"Bite me, Brother Ryo!"
She possessed the unique healing bloodline of the Uzumaki clan, capable of restoring even the gravest wounds.
Ryo had rescued Kaori from the torment of Kusagakure because he refused to let her become a tool, a living medical instrument for others to exploit. If he now healed himself by feeding on her blood, how would he be any different from those beasts who once enslaved her?
But Kaori's clear eyes showed no fear or hesitation. She looked directly at him and spoke each word with crystal resolve.
"Brother Ryo, you're not like them! You're the one who saved me from that hell, who gave me hope again! I'm doing this willingly! If you won't heal by biting me, then I won't go with you anymore!"
Facing Kaori's pure, determined gaze, Ryo knew this wasn't the time to hesitate. He gripped her small, scarred hand, his throat moving painfully. Filled with guilt, he finally lowered his head and bit gently into her arm, carefully drawing her chakra.
A miracle occurred almost instantly. Ryo's terrible wounds began to heal before their eyes. The Uzumaki clan's regenerative ability was nothing short of terrifying.
The blackened wound on his arm, once burnt to the bone, shed its dead flesh as a surge of life force tore through it. Around the scorched bone, tender new tissue blossomed and spread at an impossible rate, weaving together like vines. The torn flesh on his back rapidly fused, sealing the gaping wound. Broken tendons snapped back into place, displaced organs gently guided by invisible hands. Fresh blood surged through his veins, dissolving internal injuries one by one. The unbearable pain began to fade.
The scorched skin and dried blood peeled away from Ryo's body, revealing pale new skin beneath. The once-gaping wounds healed into faint scabs.
But at that moment, he felt the small hand in his grasp trembling violently. Kaori's once rosy face turned deathly pale.
Her body went limp, as though her bones had vanished, and she collapsed softly. The determination in her eyes dimmed to gray, her breath faint, fingers twitching weakly.
She was too young, her chakra and life force still undeveloped. Her body couldn't endure such massive depletion.
Seeing her on the verge of collapse, Ryo immediately stopped the absorption.
"Enough! Kaori!" Ryo roared hoarsely, pain in his voice. The little girl was as fragile as a candle flickering in the wind.
Mikoto rushed forward and caught her before she fell.
Watching Kaori's selfless act, Mikoto's heart tangled with sorrow, tenderness, and a subtle, guilty unease.
"Move!" Ryo's voice exploded like thunder, rough and commanding, leaving no room for argument. His right arm shot out, gripping both Nawaki, who carried the unconscious Kitsuchi, and Mikoto, who held Kaori, by the shoulder.
The Flying Thunder God mark flashed in his mind, set at a chaotic stone forest near the border of the Land of Rain.
Space twisted violently. Vision stretched, tore, and reformed. It felt as though their bodies were being crushed by invisible force. Nawaki barely suppressed his nausea, clutching the limp Kitsuchi in his arms.
Light shifted. The biting cold air reeked of scorched soil and gunpowder, the borderlands of Ame.
Lead-gray clouds hung low, pressing heavily overhead. Bolts of white lightning flickered silently across the depths of the sky. Beneath them lay a wasteland of mud and stone, jagged rocks rising like the fangs of dead beasts, scattered with twisted metal and dark stains near cratered pits, marks of acid rain and endless conflict.
For Nawaki, returning to this hellish place oddly felt like safety.
"Take Kaori." Ryo scanned the terrain quickly, pointing toward a narrow fissure between two boulders. His voice was cold and absolute. "Hide inside with Kitsuchi. Stay put. Anyone who approaches, kill them."
Under his ragged red hair, his silver eyes were sharp as blades, cutting straight through Nawaki.
Nawaki stiffened, then nodded hard. Wordlessly, he took the unconscious Kaori from Mikoto's arms, wrapping the small girl in his cloak.
Dragging the exhausted Kitsuchi and carrying Kaori, he crawled into the crevice, vanishing into the shadows of the rocks, silent, alert, and watchful.
Mikoto stood quietly beside Ryo. Her Sharingan had faded, but her eyes still rippled with emotion.
Ryo's last word, "Kill," still echoed like a hammer blow. She sensed his true intent, not just to pursue Kakuzu, but to protect them from another danger, Shimura Danzō. Especially now that Kaori's miraculous healing ability had been exposed.
Ryo felt Mikoto's gaze. When he turned, he saw only her downcast lashes, her hair shadowing her face.
"I'll find Tsunade," he said, voice low and urgent, meant only for her. "Kaori must be under her protection before she enters Konoha. That old vulture will never let a bloodline like hers go free."
Tsunade's protection, the only shield strong enough to oppose Danzō's ambition and safeguard the last Uzumaki heir.
Without another word, Ryo focused inward, locking onto the Flying Thunder God mark he had secretly placed behind Tsunade's shoulder during her last battle, a mark she never noticed.
Target: Tsunade-hime.
Teleport.
A sharp hum of space distortion. Ryo vanished from the cold rain of Ame, leaving behind only a swirl of dust and falling leaves.
"Damn it! Damn it!!"
Kakuzu's roar, deep and grinding like metal on stone, exploded through the scorched forest.
A green blur smashed through tree trunks and landed heavily before the cave's mouth, the ground cracking beneath his hardened feet.
His patched-together body was wrapped in torn gray robes, the remaining Earth Grudge Mask on his chest flickering with dim yellow light. His dead green eyes blazed with fury hot enough to melt iron.
He scanned the remnants, the bloodstains, the ashes, the scuffed ropes, the crushed leaves. Every trace stoked the fire in his chest.
His heart, or what remained of his hearts, seethed with pain. Three of his precious hearts destroyed. Decades of accumulation, gone. His bounty reward, gone. Humiliated by the Flying Thunder God Technique, unforgivable.
"I'll skin you alive," he growled, voice thick with venom. He lunged forward, following faint traces of chakra and dragged footprints. His massive arm swept through the air like a blade, smashing into the stone wall hiding their escape.
The cave wall exploded into shards, stones pelting outward like shrapnel.
But when the dust cleared, he found only emptiness, no bodies, no sound, only the lingering ripple of distorted space.
"The Flying Thunder God... Senju Tobirama!"
Kakuzu's knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists. He glared at the gaping hole before him as if trying to pierce through the void and see that cursed man beyond it.
Three hearts lost. The bounty gone. His pride shattered by a ghost that could vanish into thin air. Fury and humiliation burned through the remnants of his sanity.
A thick, dark-green clot of fluid burst from his mouth, chunks of viscera mixed in, splattering across the scorched ground with the stench of decay. His body trembled violently, the glow of his remaining mask dimming to near extinction.
He clutched his chest as the mask emitted a low, uneasy hum.
"Kamiyama... Ryo..."
The name hissed from between his teeth like poison. His face twisted into something monstrous, rage, greed, humiliation, and unwilling fear mixing into one ugly expression.
"Next time," he muttered hoarsely, staggering into the shadows of the forest, "I'll crush you into coins..."
A sharper hum than before split the air.
Ryo's form shimmered and vanished from the cold, wet borderlands. The wind howled through the empty clearing, scattering broken stones and withered leaves.
Then came heat. The heavy dampness of Ame was replaced by a dry warmth, tinged with the scent of herbs.
Ryo stumbled slightly as he tore free from the violent pull of space. The air was thick with disinfectant, blood, and alcohol. His vision swam, but his senses quickly focused on the massive, dark-green medical tent before him, its canvas stained with dried blood.
Tsunade's field camp.
The flap of the tent hung heavy, but lamplight glowed from within. Raised voices, angry and tense, filtered through the air.
Ryo steadied himself, forcing down the ache in his chest. He lifted a dirt-stained hand and peered through the haze of medicine and smoke, straight toward the source of the argument.
Inside, he saw a familiar mane of golden hair flick sharply as the woman turned, her back to him, locked in a heated confrontation with a shadowy figure radiating a chilling aura.
(To be continued.)