Nara Shikaku

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"Their life seems so easy..."

After the Third Great Ninja War, the world entered a fragile peace. While large-scale battles ceased, tensions among the villages persisted, and skirmishes erupted in different regions. Civilians often found themselves caught in the crossfire, sometimes losing their lives due to ninja mistakes.

But none of this turmoil touched the Land of Waves. The people here led simple lives, working in factories by day and dining at local restaurants by night. There were no threats to their safety, no concerns about food or shelter. Not even Amegakure, under the Akatsuki's protection, could boast this level of tranquility.

The contrast weighed heavily on Konan's mind. She couldn't ignore it.

Seeing the longing in her eyes, Muzan—who knew the Akatsuki's predecessors had fought for peace just as fervently as they did now—commented, "Ninja wars aren't sparked solely by power, but by a lack of resources."

Konan contemplated his words. Though she recognized their truth, they clashed with the Akatsuki's belief that strength was the key to lasting peace. Accepting Muzan's viewpoint felt like invalidating the years of effort she and Nagato had poured into their cause.

Her gaze hardened, her resolve unshaken.

"Even if you're right," she said softly, "we will not falter. Strength is the only way to suppress the chaos of this world."

Muzan observed her determination and sighed inwardly. It was a pity, truly.

"The Akatsuki's foundation isn't inherently flawed," Muzan replied. "But beware of those with hidden agendas."

He spoke from experience. The true manipulator—Black Zetsu—operated from the shadows, guiding events to resurrect Kaguya Ōtsutsuki. Though the Akatsuki sought peace on the surface, they were unwitting pawns in a far greater scheme. Uchiha Madara's reappearance and the looming threat of the Ten-Tails were all part of Black Zetsu's plan.

Still, Muzan kept this knowledge to himself. Whether Konan would believe him was uncertain, and destabilizing the Akatsuki now would jeopardize his own plans.

"Don't worry," Konan said firmly. "We are the chosen ones."

Muzan didn't press further. For now, their alliance was enough.

After returning to the Amegakure, Konan relayed everything to Nagato. She also discreetly warned Sasori to remain vigilant, revealing Muzan's true identity.

For Sasori, it was personal. Hatake Sakumo had killed his parents, and that deep-seated hatred had never faded. The enmity between them was as fierce as it was complicated.

"For now, avoid the Land of Fire unless absolutely necessary," Nagato instructed, his voice rough from years of strain.

Sasori nodded through his puppet body, his tone cold and detached. Even Deidara, usually boisterous, remained quiet, not wanting to provoke his volatile partner.

Breaking the silence, Deidara grinned. "We've got the funds. How about we make some art?"

"Explosions are art, un!" he declared, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Nagato cut through their banter. "Focus. It's time for us to step into the spotlight."

---

Meanwhile, Konoha's Anbu had caught wind of the Land of Waves' newfound prosperity. A ship leaving the region had been spotted, and the intelligence quickly reached Namikaze Minato.

Rumors painted the Land of Waves as a mysterious fortress, where any hostile ninja who entered vanished without a trace.

Minato pondered the implications. He had no idea that Muzan—who now controlled the region—was behind this power. If he had known, he might have reconsidered sending the Anbu, especially given Konoha's current state.

But it was too late. The squad had already reached the Land of Waves' borders.

High in the sky, Byakugan eyes scanned every inch of the terrain. No movement escaped their sight—not even the surveillance ninjutsu used by Amegakure could compare.

The castor Hyūga Hizashi, a former Konoha ninja who had faked his death to escape the clan's oppressive traditions. Though it pained him to act against his village, Hizashi remained loyal to Muzan.

"They're here," Hizashi reported. "What are your orders?"

Muzan glanced at the equipment on his desk. His crimson eyes glowed with malice as the air grew heavy with his killing intent.

"They've come this far. It would be rude not to welcome them," he said, his voice calm yet chilling.

"The rats have been stirring," Muzan added. "Konoha isn't the only one sniffing around. Other villages are taking notice as well."

Hizashi stood silently, observing the man he now served.

"I don't expect any of them to leave alive," Muzan said coldly. "Pakura and the others are handling matters elsewhere. She won't return until the explosive tag routes are secured."

Turning to Hizashi, Muzan's tone grew sharp. "I'm entrusting this to you. Your abilities have improved. Use them well and ensure no one escapes."

---

Muzan's voice carried a chilling edge as he addressed Hyuga Hizashi, testing both the extent of Hizashi's demonic-like abilities and his willingness to aid Konoha in secrecy. Hizashi, understanding the implications in Muzan's tone, gave a subtle nod before leaving the laboratory.

At the border between the Land of Waves and the Land of Fire, a narrow strait divided the two countries. To enter the Land of Waves, travelers were forced to rely on boats.

On one such misty day, a few figures disembarked from a ship, their eyes scanning the dense fog. A shadowy silhouette emerged, its presence alone prompting the group to draw their kunai, prepared for battle.

Suddenly, three shuriken zipped through the fog, colliding with their kunai in a cacophony of metallic clangs.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

A roaring inferno erupted, its heat pushing back the fog and revealing the figure. The group's eyes widened in disbelief.

"It's… you!"

Unbeknownst to them, Muzan observed the unfolding chaos from a hidden surveillance point deep within the forests of the Land of Waves. His cold gaze betrayed no emotion as he monitored the carnage. Hyuga Hizashi, now empowered by Muzan's blood, had achieved the strength of an elite Jonin. However, Hizashi's role was more about reconnaissance and securing the island than outright combat.

Muzan's expression remained impassive. Hizashi's transformation into a demon had been a means to escape his clan's oppressive traditions and secure his survival—not a thirst for power.

"Good," Muzan murmured, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "But it's a shame there's a tail."

He had noticed an old acquaintance closing in.

---

Nara Shikaku, dispatched by Namikaze Minato, approached the fog-drenched border of the Land of Waves. The mission's complexity weighed on him as he studied the documents in his hands.

"Muzan…" Shikaku muttered, recalling the man who had once fought alongside him. He hadn't expected Muzan to defect from Konoha, let alone turn rogue within two years. Now, Muzan's presence in the Land of Waves posed a significant threat.

Shikaku's primary objective was to prevent three Konoha ninjas from entering the Land of Waves. But after hours of waiting, he realized they must have already crossed into enemy territory. His mission shifted to recovering them—or uncovering their fate.

As Shikaku ventured deeper, the fog thickened, restricting his vision. For a Nara, whose strength depended on the Shadow Imitation Technique, the lack of sunlight was a critical disadvantage. Still, Minato had chosen him for his sharp intellect and strategic prowess.

Following a trail of blood, Shikaku eventually stumbled upon a horrifying sight—three corpses lay on the ground, their wounds brutally inflicted. Beside them were three discarded Konoha forehead protectors.

"I'm too late," Shikaku muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

Determined to uncover the truth, he pursued the blood trail further. Before long, he sensed someone watching him. Hyuga Hizashi stood hidden, ready to intervene, but Muzan's voice echoed in his mind: "Withdraw."

---

Shikaku's pursuit led him to a clearing where the trail ended abruptly. Suddenly, a kunai with an explosive tag whizzed toward him. Acting on instinct, Shikaku substituted himself with a nearby log.

"Boom!"

The explosion shattered nearby trees. Emerging from the debris, Shikaku spotted his target—Muzan.

Wiping a trickle of blood from his cheek, Shikaku's eyes narrowed. His voice was low and firm as he spoke: "I never thought I'd meet you like this, Hatake Muzan."

Muzan stood tall, his expression indifferent. "Senpai, long time no see. I've left Konoha, and I have no intention of returning. Yet you persist in chasing me. Do you truly believe I won't kill you?"

Shikaku's anger simmered beneath the surface. Muzan's betrayal and his attack on Konoha ninjas left no room for negotiation.

"As I said before," Muzan continued, his tone icy, "ninjas are not welcome in the Land of Waves."

The air grew tense as Muzan's chakra flared. Shikaku, unfazed, began forming hand seals.

"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"

A gust of wind cleared the surrounding fog momentarily, allowing Shikaku to use his Shadow Imitation Technique. His shadow stretched toward Muzan, closing the distance.

"It's useless," Muzan said, stepping into the sunlight. The rays seemed to have no effect on him—his body had adapted, diminishing the sun's harmful impact.

Before the shadow could bind him, Muzan moved with inhuman speed, his figure dissolving into mist.

"What?!" Shikaku exclaimed, watching his technique pass harmlessly through the swirling fog.

Muzan reappeared behind him, slamming his fist into the ground. The earth cracked under the force, shaking the forest like an earthquake.

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