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Naruto: IHCS Ch. 116
🕑 Added 2025-09-09 15:22:27 +0000 UTCAfter making arrangements, Shiratori continued asking, "Are you the only two ninjas in Tatashina?"
Ryūga nodded.
"That's right. Although there are only the two of us as ninja in Tatashina, most of the villagers here can make poisons and medicines under our guidance."
"..."
So in the end, this was a poison village?
Shiratori thought for a moment. It would be wasteful to abandon such a useful place as Tatashina.
"After you meet Himura, you and Ranga should return to Tatashina. Use it as a base, continue spreading our ideals. Attract more ninja and civilians who come here to join us."
Ryūga's eyes lit up, and he nodded firmly.
"No problem. Leave it to me."
He had lived in Tatashina for too many years already, and honestly, he was reluctant to leave it. Being able to continue developing Tatashina was, for him and Ranga, obviously the best choice.
Shiratori reminded him, "Akatsuki resolves conflicts through peaceful means. You can't drug others or control villagers like before. You must respect the will of both the villagers and newcomers."
"Of course!"
Ryūga nodded vigorously.
Ever since taking over Tatashina and making himself its ruler, his life had sunk into a rut.
True, here he didn't need to go to battlefields, didn't need to carry out dangerous missions, didn't need to fight and kill for his village's interests. But at the same time, he had lost direction and purpose.
He had become lost.
Other than making poison, preparing medicines, and killing ninja and samurai who tried to plunder Tatashina's resources, he seemed to have nothing else to do.
Gradually, he had sunk deeper into that emptiness.
Aimless.
Living in a daze, with nothing meaningful to fill his days.
But now it was different.
Now he had a direction, a goal, an ideal worth giving everything for.
He wanted to be like Shiratori, passing on Akatsuki's ideals and faith to more people.
To let more and more people understand them, join them, and stand together with them in defense of peace. He couldn't think of anything more meaningful than this.
"Tatashina is in your hands, Ryūga. I hope the next time we meet, we'll see a different Tatashina!"
Shiratori's eyes were full of trust.
"I believe you can do it!"
Ryūga's chest surged with warmth. This feeling of being deeply trusted, it was so comforting.
"I will."
He promised.
[Gratitude detected: Ryūga +3000 points]
[Curse Growth - Gratitude: 25.7%]
A black shadow, like flowing ink, spread and surrounded both the innkeeper and the man. The giant snake gradually sank into the darkness. The man shrank back, terror still clear in his eyes.
But the innkeeper stepped forward resolutely.
She looked straight at Shiratori.
"I want to join you too! I'm truly sick of war!"
Shiratori didn't refuse those who came.
"Alright."
Akatsuki needed strength; the more members, the better. Core personnel, however, would need careful selection later.
He turned to Ryūga:
"Akatsuki has only just been founded. Before we grow stronger, we must act in secrecy."
Otherwise, he feared Akatsuki would be wiped out by Hanzō before they even got on track. But as long as they prevented Danzō from contacting Hanzō, they should be able to avoid the terrible ending Akatsuki had in the original storyline.
"I understand."
Ryūga nodded seriously.
After arranging matters regarding Akatsuki, Shiratori and his group rested for a night in Tatashina.
The next morning, at dawn, they set off toward their next destination.
---
"What nice weather!"
On the road, Yahiko stretched lazily, in a very good mood.
Konan's lips curved slightly upward as she followed behind him.
"Where are we going next?"
Yahiko curiously looked at Shiratori walking beside him.
Shiratori's steps paused slightly, but quickly returned to normal.
The next place would not be as safe as Kikyōhara or Tatashina.
"The northeastern border of the Land of Rain," Shiratori replied.
"The border? Are there many ninja there?"
Yahiko clasped his hands behind his head, turned around, and while walking backwards, asked Shiratori.
Shiratori nodded.
"The northeast of the Land of Rain borders the Land of Grass. A few days ago, Iwa and Konoha went to war, and the main battlefield is the Land of Grass. Because of the chaos, many refugees have fled south into the northeastern border of the Land of Rain. Aside from refugees, there are also many missing-nin and rogue-nin lurking along the border."
"Ah!"
Yahiko dropped his hands in surprise, staring at Shiratori.
"Then isn't it very chaotic?"
Shiratori nodded, and said seriously, "This time, we may face even greater dangers. If you're worried, you can stay in Tatashina or Kikyōhara and wait for me to return."
[Rage detected]
[Multiple sources: +500 points each]
[Total accumulated: 1500 points]
[Energy transferred to Jogo]
[Development progress: 55.75%]
Yahiko frowned. He looked at Shiratori seriously.
"Even if we're afraid, there's no way we'd let you face danger alone!"
Konan nodded urgently, gazing at Shiratori with concern.
"We promised to stay together! No matter what blocks our path, as long as we're together, we won't be afraid! If we combine our strength, we'll definitely overcome any difficulties!"
Her voice grew stronger and firmer.
Nagato also nodded, staring at Shiratori, stubbornly declaring, "We'll go together."
Shiratori looked at the three before him, tense as if facing a great enemy, and broke into a brilliant smile. He threw his arms around their necks:
"Alright! We'll go together!"
Of course they had to go together. Otherwise, who would provide him with emotional energy along the way?
---
On the northeastern border of the Land of Rain lies a ring-shaped settlement called Aomine.
Aomine almost encircles the entire northeastern border, serving as the Land of Rain's first line of defense.
Almost no ordinary people live in Aomine.
They're either merchants who value money more than life, or wandering ninjas and missing-nin with nowhere to go. There are also samurai employed by the merchants, and refugees fleeing here from war-torn countries.
"We're almost there."
Shiratori reminded the three.
The Land of Rain's northeastern border is close to the Land of Grass. Trees are sparse; as far as the eye can see stretch boundless grasslands and low houses. Those low houses stood quietly at the far end of the prairie.
Beyond that cluster of squat buildings lies the Land of Grass.
The green grass washed over their ankles like waves.
Shiratori led Yahiko and the others onward.
The low houses grew larger in their eyes, they had already entered the territory of Aomine.
Refugees curled up in every street-corner nook. The air reeked. Trash piled up on the ground. From time to time, two tall, well-built men would pass by Shiratori and his group.
From the moment they stepped onto this street, countless gazes settled on them.
Feeling a tug at his hem, Shiratori glanced back and saw Konan clutching the corner of his coat.
Unease flickered in her eyes. She had already keenly sensed the danger saturating this place.
He laid his hand over the back of Konan's hand that held his hem, gently took her hand away, then clasped it in his.
Konan pressed her lips together, tightened her grip on his hand, and stuck close to him.
"Why is everyone staring at us?"
Yahiko leaned toward his ear and whispered.
He looked at Yahiko's fair, youthful face; instead of answering, he asked in return, "Look at the people around us, what do you see?"
"Refugees, ninjas, merchants, samurai…"
Nagato's voice sounded from his other side.
Hearing Nagato's answer, Yahiko scrutinized their surroundings more closely.
The walls along the street were in ruins, yet these shattered remnants had become the refugees' only shelter.
They huddled in the corners, a sheet of tattered, wrinkled burlap under their hips. Barely clothed, skin and bone, cheeks sunken, their pupils wide and bright, they looked unsettling as they stared unblinking at the four of them walking down the street.
On the other side, in stark contrast to the refugees, were clean, bright shops. The shopkeepers lounged at ease in rocking chairs, with more snacks on the side tables than they could finish.
In every shop there was the figure of a ninja or a samurai; their presence kept the refugees across the way from making any rash moves.
"We're not refugees, and you three are still young. Showing up on a chaotic border like this, how could that not draw attention?"
Shiratori explained.
Yahiko and Konan's gazes lingered on the refugees. Their eyes were filled with pity.
Konan turned her head away, feeling a pang of sorrow.
"War really destroys people!"
Looking at the miserable state of the refugees, Yahiko clenched his fists tighter, his resolve growing ever stronger in his heart.
He would stop wars. He would make sure the shinobi world no longer knew war.
"Let's first find an inn and settle down. Once we've done that, we'll take a look around the area," Shiratori said.
Yahiko nodded.
They entered an inn that seemed to be in fairly good condition.
The innkeeper, slouched over the counter, lazily raised his head and sized up the four of them. "Staying or eating?"
"Staying," Shiratori replied. "One room."
The innkeeper curled his lip downward. "Fine! Pay first!"
He held out his hand.
On the counter, the prices for meals and lodging were posted, almost several times higher than ordinary inns.
Along the way, Shiratori had noticed that almost all the inns here were set at such exorbitant rates.
Aomine was on the border, and with the Land of Grass engulfed in war, merchants jacked prices up to squeeze every last drop out of the refugees.
He paid the fee and followed the innkeeper upstairs. The man casually opened a vacant room, jerked his chin at them, and said, "This one."
Then he turned and left.
Once inside, Konan shut the door.
"The prices here are ridiculous!" Yahiko complained. "No wonder those refugees would rather stay out on the streets than come in. How could they ever afford a place this expensive?"
"We might be here for a long time. There are quite a lot of ninjas in this place, and none of them will be easy to deal with."
Shiratori sat down on the tatami mat and spoke to them.
Most importantly, this place was close to the battlefields of the Land of Grass. To him, war was the best chance to sharpen his strength. He wasn't going to let that opportunity slip away.
"No worries! If we run out of money, we'll just sleep on the streets too!" Yahiko said optimistically.
After all, it wasn't as if they hadn't done that before. They'd been through worse.
"You don't need to worry about money," Shiratori reassured them.
Yahiko, moved, rushed forward and threw his arm around his shoulder, speaking from the heart: "It's really great having you here!"
Though Jiraiya had left them some money before parting, it was nowhere near enough to sustain them for long in Aomine.
Shiratori smiled. "Let's rest for a while first. Later, we'll go outside and take a look at the situation."
"Alright!"
Yahiko flopped down immediately, closed his eyes, and lay back on the tatami.
A crow flew across the skies above Aomine, perching on a tree branch. Its bead-like pupils turned, reflecting the entire street within its eyes.
---
After resting for an hour, Shiratori and the others left the inn and walked down the street.
The eyes of the refugees at the street corners followed their every step.
He glanced back, then, with an unchanged expression, continued walking forward.
"What's wrong?"
Yahiko noticed his movement and asked.
Shiratori shook his head, but his feet suddenly shifted direction. He led Yahiko and the others into a narrow alley branching off from the main street.
Yahiko looked at his profile, a trace of doubt flashing in his eyes, but he didn't say anything.
At the end of the alley stood a wall, blocking their way.
"No way through. Let's turn back," he said as he turned around.
Three tall, looming shadows suddenly engulfed them.
Yahiko froze. His pupils shifted upward, reflecting three unfamiliar faces.
Shiratori sized up the three blocking their path from head to toe.
They seemed to be in their late teens, wearing traditional clothing, swords at their waists, sandals on their feet. Looking down from above with arrogance, the unmistakable bearing of samurai.
"Where are you brats from?" the samurai in the middle barked.
"Why should we tell you." Yahiko frowned, watching the three samurai warily.
"You have guts, huh?!"
As soon as the middle samurai finished, the ones on his left and right drew their long swords.
The gleam of cold steel flashed, the sharp tips aimed straight at them.
"What do you want?" Shiratori asked calmly.
The three samurai exchanged glances, doubt flickering in their minds.
Would ordinary children stay this calm?
But that suspicion quickly faded. Just some kids, what trouble could they cause?
"At least you know your place," the middle samurai sneered, satisfied.
"Hand over all your money," he ordered bluntly.
"And after we hand it over?" Shiratori continued.
The middle samurai burst into laughter. "After you hand it over, if you behave, I'll sell you to a man who doesn't beat kids too much. If not, don't blame us for being cruel."
His voice dropped low, his eyes flashing with menace.
As expected of the borderlands. Just as he imagined, lawless and inhumane.
"The money's on me. If you want it, come and take it." Shiratori stared at them, unflinching.
The three samurai's expressions shifted slightly.
Something about this kid felt off.
"What are you afraid of!" the middle samurai barked, glaring at his two men. "Go! Don't tell me you can't handle one brat!"
The two on the sides shouted, raised their swords, and rushed at him.
But the blades froze midair.
Their pupils widened in shock, staring at him in disbelief. Their sword-wielding wrists had been effortlessly caught by his hands.
Shiratori applied a bit more force.
"Ahhh!"
Their agonized screams echoed through the alley.
Crack!
Their wrists bent at grotesque angles, bones nearly piercing the skin.
The swords clattered to the ground. With a tug, he dragged them and slammed them down like dead dogs, leaving them writhing, unable to move.
The middle samurai watched in horror, his feet retreating involuntarily.
The hands holding his sword trembled violently.
Impossible! How could a child be this strong?
"Ahhh!" He roared, then suddenly turned and bolted.
"..." Shiratori watched.
His steps halted abruptly.
His pupils shrank to pinpoints, his hands shaking so hard he nearly dropped his blade.
Before him hovered a spear, formed entirely of paper, aimed at his chest.
One more step forward, and it would pierce him without hesitation.
Beside Shiratori, Konan raised her hand, controlling the paper spear, forcing the samurai back step by step.
The samurai finally collapsed to his knees with a thud.
"Please, don't kill me!" He begged frantically, tears and snot streaming down his face.
As expected, survival here required both pride and submission. Shiratori looked at his pitiful face with disdain.
"Hand over the money," he said, stretching out his hand.
Those who rob others will, in turn, be robbed.
Yahiko and Konan gaped at him in shock.
"M-money… yes! The money!"
The samurai scrambled, fumbling over every pocket and fold of clothing.
"And theirs too," Shiratori said, glancing at the two on the ground.
At last, the three samurai handed over every coin they carried.
"This is all we have! We really have nothing left! We'll never do this again! Please, have mercy!"
They knelt in a row before them.
Yahiko glared at them. "You have the strength to work, so why rob?"
The three samurai's sobbing faltered.
"We… we had no choice…" one muttered weakly.
"Strength is meant to protect the weak, to uphold peace. If you can't even do that, you don't deserve to wield it!"
One of the samurai muttered under his breath, "Then what about you?"
"We're here to rid this place of people like you!" Yahiko shouted, chest heaving.
Shiratori glanced around, estimating silently how much hatred Yahiko had just drawn onto himself.
Tonight was going to be a sleepless night.
"Don't kill us!" the samurai cried in terror.
"As long as you admit your mistake and change, you won't be killed," Yahiko said sternly.
Shiratori gave him a glance but stayed silent.
"We'll change! We swear we'll change!"
The three samurai immediately swore before them.
Yahiko's expression softened. He turned to Shiratori. "Let them go. Everyone deserves a chance to repent."
Shiratori nodded and waved them off.
The samurai hastily picked up their swords and fled in panic.
But for some, a chance at repentance was nothing more than indulgence.
