"He… disappeared? Why…"
When Black Zetsu informed Madara Uchiha of Uchiha Shiken's disappearance, even his face, dry as ancient bark, couldn't help but show a flicker of disbelief.
Of course, Black Zetsu wouldn't mention anything about the Mangekyō Sharingan. It simply hid what needed hiding and narrated the events in a concise, clinical manner.
"Heh. It seems your brother does not approve of your current path. The issue now becomes whether he will leak what he knows… Madara. One misstep, and he could cause us significant trouble."
Black Zetsu was a master at shifting blame. It even subtly pressed Madara, framing the entire "defection" as Madara's mishandling, a problem with no connection to itself.
"My Rinnegan?" Madara ignored the accusation, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Black Zetsu shook its head. "I have confirmed. He never got close to the Rinnegan."
However one looked at it, that was a stroke of luck amidst the disaster. Black Zetsu felt a twinge of self-reproach. Things had progressed so smoothly in recent years. It had grown complacent… How could it have placed such trust in Madara's brother?
"He didn't approach the Rinnegan… So Shiken intends to vanish, to live under a new name? If that's the case, why did he stay by my side for so long? It doesn't add up…"
Madara's confusion was justified. Black Zetsu could only lower its head, playing the meek subordinate.
"If we had sufficient personnel, we should find Shiken. The problem is…"
The problem was, they were short-handed. Madara felt he had only a handful of capable subordinates. Just monitoring the Rinnegan's location was a strain.
Fortunately, Black Zetsu's resources were more plentiful. It could dispatch a number of White Zetsu to quietly search for Uchiha Shiken… In a millennium, this was the first time anyone had dared to make off with its equipment.
Forget strategy. This personal slight alone was hard to swallow.
Madara fell silent again. Shiken's departure had struck a deep blow. An aura of profound loneliness, befitting an old man with no kin, radiated from him.
Don't bow your head. The tears will fall. That maudlin phrase perfectly suited Uchiha Madara in this moment.
"Shiken chose to disappear. The situation could be worse."
For a fleeting instant, Madara had feared his brother might try to seize the Rinnegan directly. After all, Shiken had motive. Now, he felt a pang of guilt for that suspicion. It seemed Shiken understood propriety, knew where to draw the line.
Picking up money didn't count. If he was going to pick something up now, it had to be something grand, something befitting his current status and power.Ahem.It had been a long time since Yūshin had… stolen anything.
Excellent. The Kekkei Mōra had lived up to its name.
Within this man's body, another being indeed slumbered. And behind that other being… space twisted. Countless threads of spatial power were drawn toward a distant, ethereal dimension.
Yūshin walked a few more paces. Then he suddenly whipped his head around. The Rinnegan locked onto Jigen's retreating back.
Now was the moment for Yomotsu Hirasaka to prove its worth as a Kekkei Mōra.
They passed each other. Yūshin straightened. The Rinnegan swirled into existence within his eye sockets. Yomotsu Hirasaka stood ready.
The monk named Jigen returned the gesture. A flicker of surprise passed through his gaze as it swept over Yūshin—not for anything else, but because Yūshin's attire was rather… excessively "Ōtsutsuki."
He maintained his pace, continuing forward. As they passed each other, he pressed his palms together and bowed slightly.
The thought flashed through Yūshin's mind, but his emotions remained a placid lake, utterly undisturbed.
After searching high and low, here he was, found without effort.
"Found you. Ōtsutsuki Isshiki… Ah, no. Should call him 'Jigen' now."
Even as a monk, he didn't look like a monk from this world. He looked more like a monk who'd wandered out of a particularly… lively district.
A unique mark—a triangle with a vertical line—was tattooed below his left eye.
His ears were studded with piercings. A metal stud adorned his chin.
His hair was shaved except for a thick central strip, gathered into a ponytail at the back.
Young-looking. Features somewhat delicate, with long, slender peach-blossom eyes.
As he walked, his eyes fell upon a rather… distinctive monk.
Yūshin thought. Free of the old monk, he began strolling the temple grounds. Overall, the monks here seemed to enjoy a comfortable life.Pure land is exactly where your money-grubbing lot should be sent,
"Perish the thought. All beneath the Buddha is pure land… Please, make yourself at home. I shall have a meditation room prepared for you."
"Elder, please, no need to accompany me. I shall wander the grounds myself… There are no forbidden areas, I hope?"
A large temple indeed. Yūshin would need to observe carefully.
"Including visiting monks, we currently have 123."
"You are too kind, Elder. Might I ask how many monks reside here?"
"Of course, of course. Your piety is evident. It is for followers like you that temples such as ours exist in this world."
"Venerable Elder, I have traveled from the Land of Earth to the Land of Hot Water seeking to heal my body and mind. I wonder if I might reside in the temple for a time, to cleanse my spirit."
Of course, considering Yūshin's age, it was unlikely he carried that much cash on him. If asked where the money came from, he'd simply say he happened to find a large sum shortly after landing in the country.
Why were the temple Buddhas so plump and well-fed? Because the world was full of devout believers like Yūshin.
Upon arrival, he received high-level treatment. Not because Yūshin, in his white robes with the sun-and-moon motif, exuded an air of zen, but because he made a hefty donation immediately upon entering.
A brief inquiry confirmed this small island nation did indeed have a temple. Yūshin then transformed into a "devout believer" and went to pay a visit.
But none of this concerned Yūshin. He had no time for "local purification" activities. As long as the local demons and devils didn't provoke him, they were smart demons and devils with a longer lifespan.
After wandering a certain town, he was mildly surprised to find active cults here… So much for a utopian paradise. Isolated corners of the world like this were breeding grounds for all manner of monsters.
Arriving in this country, Yūshin looked at the various hot spring resorts advertising all sorts of curative properties. If he didn't know better, he'd think he'd arrived not in a hot spring country, but in a land of bloodletting.
Whenever a major war erupted on the continent, island nations like Hot Water experienced rapid development… It was, after all, known as "The Land That Forgot War."
Leaving the Land of Fire, he first headed to the "Hot Spring Country," the Land of Hot Water.
But as the saying goes, small temples breed strange winds. Yūshin's strategy proved correct.
This time, Yūshin changed tactics. He'd leave the major nations for later, starting with the minor ones. Small countries had fewer, smaller temples. Easier to search.
Yūshin felt neither urgency nor disappointment. He had time. And there was a basic truth: as long as a person was in the Shinobi World, and wasn't like certain cowards who burrowed into rat-holes in their old age, there was always a chance to find them.
But after combing through the Land of Fire, Yūshin found no trace of his target. No choice. He had to leave the Fire Country and search foreign temples.
After all, he wasn't looking for an ascetic. Quite the opposite. He was searching for a certain… worldly monk.
The reason he visited temples large and small within the Land of Fire was based on a simple assumption: to find monks, go to temples.
Other than that, Yūshin encountered little of note.
The reason he remembered this monk was Yūshin's recollection that the guy could use a bootleg version of "One Hundred Hands Kannon." Pity it was still a bootleg. The guy got taken out by the Akatsuki later.
The search process was mostly tedious. If there was any interesting encounter, it was meeting a young monk named Chiriku at a certain temple.
Summarizing Yūshin's recent activities, any ordinary person would conclude: Lord Yūshin has aged. He has finally entered that life stage of visiting temples, seeking enlightenment, and dabbling in feudal superstitions.
Previously, he had searched half of the Land of Fire. Half remained. If that yielded nothing, he would have to expand his search abroad.
Besides Shiken, he had another target.
Having resolved the matter of Uchiha Shiken, pulling him from Madara's grasp, Yūshin's "Shinobi World Search Plan" was half complete.
......
Jiraiya wasn't trying to stubbornly remain in the Rain. He simply couldn't leave in peace until he had taught the trio enough to protect themselves.
Orochimaru didn't waste further words, turning to leave. He wasn't here for a sentimental chat, just to convey a command.
"Suit yourself. The order has been delivered."
Jiraiya thought of his teaching progress and ultimately couldn't give a definite departure date.
"I… need a little more time before I can leave the Rain."
Even the not-quite-normal Orochimaru understood the war wasn't terminated, merely suspended.
"The major villages require a… halftime break."
The Second Shinobi World War was said to have ended, but it felt more like an intermission, an unnatural pause any seasoned shinobi could sense.
"Orochimaru… do you truly believe the war is over?"
Jiraiya remained silent. Orochimaru continued, "By the village's orders, we must withdraw from the Land of Rain within a set timeframe… The war is over."
After twists and turns, it had ended up in Orochimaru's hands. One could call that returning to its rightful owner.
Jiraiya naturally understood which "organization" Orochimaru meant. Hanging at Orochimaru's waist was none other than the Kusanagi Sword. After the "Nameless Sage's" sacrifice, the Uchiha ninja of the Eagle organization had returned it to Yūshin, who then tossed it into a Fireflies warehouse.
"A sword I found in the organization's stores. Quite handy… Jiraiya, don't change the subject. That trick won't work."
"Huh? Orochimaru, what's that on your hip?"
At the moment, he was conversing with a figure lurking in the shadows, who gave off an aura that was… decidedly not that of a good man.
Jiraiya, having been away, was blissfully unaware that his "nest" had nearly experienced a tragic case of "the bird flying and the eggs breaking."
Land of Rain.
......
Besides, Yūshin had merely… adjusted the trajectory of Uchiha Shiken's life. He hadn't performed a full brainwashing.
Even outside the chaotic Warring States era, what ordinary shinobi truly controlled their own fate? Having one's will reshaped by a superior was far better than having one's neck snapped.
It was an overbearing approach. But Yūshin believed he had been exceedingly merciful. Even if Shimai knew of this, she could only praise him for his handling, not accuse him of turning her brother into a puppet.
By all rights, Yūshin's actions—ignoring Uchiha Shiken's will and forcibly altering his memories—were questionable. He knew Shiken would never consent, so he didn't bother asking.
Those dark, filthy things couldn't even evade the senses of an ordinary Nine-Tails, let alone an enhanced version of the Ramen Master.
No matter how hard Black Zetsu and the White Zetsu searched, they would never find Uchiha Shiken again. Not because Shiken had mastered optical camouflage, but because they could not approach the Ramen Master.
At this very moment, how could Uchiha Madara possibly know that his brother had become a ramen apprentice, embarking on a life of 996 "blessings"? Aside from occasional exhaustion, it was a carefree existence.
One could only say his self-image was… beautifully constructed. When a man willingly accepts his own self-deception, the hypnotic effect is absolute.
In Madara's mind, he was now a seeker of truth, a martyr. Every action he took was for the public good, for the world's future, utterly devoid of personal desire.Ahem.
Shiken's appearance and departure served as a timely reminder. He was no longer merely an individual. He had become the embodiment of an ideal, the personification of the "hope for the future" of the entire world.
Madara, too, began to reflect on his mistakes. Indeed. Having resolved to execute a plan of world-changing scale, he should not allow himself to be shackled by sentiment—blood ties, familial affection, the reputation of a clan.
"Agreed. See to it… We must be more cautious from now on. The plan cannot tolerate the slightest error."
What was done was done. All Black Zetsu could do now was mend the fence.
"Madara, regardless, we must enhance surveillance and protection of the Rinnegan."
The second point reassured Black Zetsu, easing its anxiety somewhat.
Uchiha Shiken was a ghost in the Shinobi World, a man with no verifiable past. His words truly held little credibility.
"Second, Shiken cannot even explain his own origins. Even if he revealed my plans, no one would believe him."
…For an Uchiha to speak of blood being thicker than water was… profoundly ironic.
"First, even if Shiken disapproves of my plan, he would never raise a blade against me. The bond of blood cannot be broken."
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