"Wind Style: Vacuum Great Sphere!"
An immense pressure surged from behind Yukika Setsu, forcing her to the ground even if she hadn't meant to fall. An invisible wave swept over her head, erasing the incoming flames entirely. It didn't stop there—the wave charged ahead and smashed a ninja not far in front of her into bloody fragments.
Yukika stared in stunned silence as a living person was shredded to pieces before her eyes.
Whoosh!
A middle-aged man flashed past her. She turned her head and saw he was the one who had unleashed that devastating wind technique. A cross-shaped scar marked his chin. He hadn't even glanced at Yukika—saving her had been a mere afterthought.
The man had only taken a few steps when he abruptly stopped. In front of him stood a stern, middle-aged woman.
"Danzō..." she said, her eyes narrowing. Her voice was low and grim. "We haven't seen each other since the last Shinobi World War. I didn't expect our reunion to be like this."
"Indeed, it's been a long time, Chiyo," Danzō replied with a cold snort. Without another word, he flicked a kunai from his sleeve and lunged at her.
Chiyo responded by weaving signs midair. Two clearly mechanical puppets burst forth from her flanks and charged toward Danzō.
What kind of world have I landed in?
Yukika had never watched Naruto. At most, she had heard it was a popular manga series. But what was happening around her was so far removed from a normal materialist worldview that she couldn't even begin to comprehend it.
Not that she had time for philosophical reflection. The dizziness hadn't passed. In fact, her vision was now crawling with darkness.
The clash between those two powerhouses would have to wait. Yukika glanced around desperately. There wasn't a single piece of cloth or bandage to stop the bleeding. Ripping fabric with only one hand was a tall order for someone who had lost limbs.
"No choice..."
Gritting her teeth, Yukika turned toward the burning corpse beside her.
After cautiously checking for nearby combatants, she dragged herself to the fire and pressed the gaping wounds on her shoulder and hip directly into the flames.
"Ugh—UUUUAAAHHH!!"
Pain ripped through her body, shaking her to the core. Her teeth crushed her lips, and cold sweat poured from her pale forehead.
"...Hah..."
After what felt like an eternity, the bleeding had finally stopped. The charred stumps were hideous and stinking, but at least she wouldn't die from blood loss. Infection, though, was a whole other threat...
Ugh...
Her body swayed and crumpled. The fire crept toward her, cracking her lips with dry heat.
Can't... hold on...
Her eyes slowly closed.
...
Danzō silently watched Chiyo's retreating figure disappear. He reached up to touch his cheek and, unsurprisingly, found blood.
Good thing Chiyo hadn't had time to coat those last-minute puppets with poison.
His expression darkened as he casually wiped away the blood.
"Danzō-sama, the Rain and Sand shinobi have retreated. What should we do with the prisoners?" asked an ANBU in a mask who knelt nearby.
"Bring them all back to Konoha. Lock them up. Be careful—some of them might have value."
He waved his hand. The ANBU nodded and vanished.
Danzō sighed. The once sprawling reed fields were now wrecked and ablaze, corpses strewn everywhere. Konoha ninjas worked in silence, cleaning up the battlefield.
This isn't good. The Rain shinobi were this tenacious? If we keep fighting in the Land of Rain, Konoha's pressure will only grow.
He furrowed his brow. Iwagakure and Kirigakure were stirring, and though Kumogakure had yet to act, he didn't believe the Raikage would stay out of it for long.
Whatever. Sarutobi's the Hokage now. Let him deal with it.
Danzō glanced toward the trio of Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru resting in the distance. Hanzo's voice echoed in his mind.
"The 'Legendary Three'... Sarutobi, you really got lucky."
Shaking his head with a hint of emotion, Danzō dusted off his hands and walked toward a nearby river.
He knelt at the bank to wash his hands, then caught sight of movement near a headless corpse.
"Hmm?"
He raised a brow and walked over.
...
Yukika bolted upright from the darkness.
She felt nauseated, ice-cold, her head pounding, and vision swimming. In her panic, she groped blindly until her hand brushed a corpse. The cold, slick sensation made her freeze. After a long pause, she withdrew her hand and shakily forced herself upright.
The dull pain from her severed limbs lingered. As she moved, she could hear the brittle crackling of charred flesh.
This person...
The corpse beside her was burned beyond recognition, but the remnants of clothing looked familiar.
Was this the one who held me at the start?
Sching!
The clear ring of a blade being drawn snapped her attention forward. Danzō stood before her, pulling a short sword from his back.
He studied her closely, eyes narrowing. After a long moment, he raised the sword and placed the edge against her throat. One pull, and it would all be over.
Yukika stared at the blade, then looked into Danzō's eyes.
"...Help me..."
Danzō paused.
"Kid... your hands, your legs... your eyes. What happened to you?"
She stared blankly, then shook her head.
"Which village are you from? Are you from the Land of Rain?"
Land of Rain? What was that? Yukika shook her head again.
Danzō lowered the sword slightly. Yukika cautiously reached up and touched its dull edge.
"Then... do you remember your name, kid?"
My name?
"Yukika..." she muttered hazily.
"Yukika...? No family name? A civilian's child, then."
He pressed the sword against her chest, the tip poised over her heart.
After a long silence, he finally asked:
"One last question."
"..."
"Do you want to live?"
Yukika nodded.
"Good."
Danzō abruptly withdrew the blade, wiped it down, and sheathed it. Yukika collapsed, unconscious.
He crouched and awkwardly lifted her up, inspecting the charred stumps at her shoulder and hip. His eyes narrowed.
A perfect candidate...
A war orphan, no background, disabled, no support...
If she has potential, she could be molded into a perfect subordinate.
Just moments ago, he had lamented Sarutobi's luck. Now, perhaps fate had handed him something just as valuable.
His instincts whispered that this filthy, crippled child had a certain talent...
A talent for killing.
Rustle!
A wind stirred the reeds. Danzō looked up to see a waterbird taking flight.
"...Waterbird River. From now on, your name will be Yukika Setsu of Waterbird River."