Despite the fact that I was just walking across the ground, I moved quickly; each step caused my body to blur and cover a significant stretch of distance.
Yet my long hair remained perfectly undisturbed, and my clothes spotlessly clean, as if I weren't walking through a forest but rather the halls of a palace.
Chakra… what an amazing thing , and I now had more than enough to spend it freely like this.
No longer did I have to envy others who oozed chakra into the air around them; now I, too, stood among that peak, someone that every sensor with half a mind would avoid like the plague.
And that pleased me.
If only everyone were a sensor, then I wouldn't have to deal with fools.
"Wow, lookie here, what do we have? A blind little bird lost in the forest?"
The voice was mocking, nasal, and too loud for the silence of the woods.
I did not stop walking.
A second voice joined in, deeper and meaner, laced with amusement. "A pretty one, too. Looks like the kind who'd fetch a price. Or maybe we keep her for ourselves first."
Two dull chakra signatures that I had ignored decided not to repay the favor. Instead, they dared to step forward and speak to me like that; clearly, they were as stupid as they were weak.
They were nothing, just rogue Chūnin, the kind that scurried like rats after desertion, living off banditry and scraps. Their chakra was barely even Chūnin-level; their control was beyond sloppy. They were the kind who could only prey on the weak.
Yet these two didn't even possess the ability to tell weak from strong.
I sighed softly behind the blindfold. "Chūnin." The word was not praise; it was a death sentence.
"Oi, did she just call us out?" the first sneered, stepping into view with a rusty kunai twirling in his hand. His headband, scratched beyond recognition, hung loose around his neck. His teeth were yellow, his eyes greedy.
The second circled wider, a chain swinging idly at his side. "Doesn't matter. She's blind. Once I break those legs, she won't be walking anywhere."
I lifted a hand, not even facing them directly. Bone shifted under my skin, smooth and eager. A long, slender spike slid from my wrist and into my palm, gleaming pale in the dappled light.
They froze.
"What the hell?"
PCHK!
The first spike punched clean through the kunai wielder's skull. His mocking grin never left his face before he collapsed, the ivory bullet bursting out the back of his head with a spray of crimson. He fell like a puppet with its strings cut, body twitching once before going still.
The second one roared, chakra flaring as he whipped his chain forward. "You bitch!"
I did not move. Instead, ivory tore through the flesh of my hand and burst outward, sprouting into a jagged spear that lashed out faster than the eye could follow.
SKRRCH!
The bone spike pierced his chest, lifted him from the ground, and pinned him to the nearest tree with a sickening THUNK. Blood bubbled from his lips as his chain slipped uselessly from his fingers. His eyes widened in disbelief, then glazed over as life left him.
I lowered my hand once more, my large, wide sleeve covering the smooth, white palm. Even before my last metamorphosis, I could have killed those two pieces of trash with ease, but not this easily.
Before, I would have either needed to rely on skill or overwhelm them with power, like a ninjutsu, never this easily, this smoothly.
While their foolishness and arrogance displeased me, the chance to test my strength did please me, even if it was a poor test.
But I knew there would be others, many others…
The war had caused many to flee it, to run and hide, those shinobi who couldn't handle it, yet many left, scratching their headbands, becoming missing-nin.
Every nation had many of those now; every village had those who escaped war, many who would hide within the Land of Fire, because why not make a living in the richest place?
Sure, it was risky, but with that risk came reward.
And being a missing-nin was already risky enough. I could understand why they did it, though that didn't mean I accepted them. They were filth.
I didn't mind those who couldn't stomach war, those who wanted out of it. I, too, detested war, but I couldn't accept that they turned to a life of crime, of murder, and worse.
For those, I had no mercy.
-----
No war lasts forever; some might feel like it, but at some point, everyone has to pull back, even if only to rebuild their forces to continue the war.
And after years and years of war, the Third Great Shinobi War was coming to an end.
Already, the other villages had stopped fighting. First came Suna and Kiri, who had fought pointlessly against one another for a long while, but with the death of a war hero, that war finally ended, allowing both villages to enter peacetime.
Next, Iwa, the Stone Village, still had the strength to fight but not the will; fear had gripped the hearts of its shinobi. The Yellow Flash was as feared as he was hated, and following the losses to him and the Third Raikage, they stopped to rebuild.
In the end, it was Kumo and Konoha that fought the longest. Kumo was unwilling to give up, even if the war had mostly stopped, with just some small fights continuing at the border.
Kumo, having lost its leader, clearly didn't want to just return to the status quo, not after all the losses and sacrifices.
Yet Konoha had a new hero, the Yellow Flash, and he made it impossible for Kumo to achieve what they wanted.
Still, they weren't without their victories. Despite Killer B being wounded in the process, they had killed one of the rising stars of Konoha, the White Ghost, a young Hyūga clan kunoichi.
Her death would no doubt weaken the next generation of Konoha, and furthermore, her strength only highlighted the value of the Byakugan. Not only was it the best sensory tool in the world, but those who had it were excellent shinobi themselves.
Kumo, in particular, having heard from Killer B how well she had fought, felt their desire for the bloodline grow. While rumor said Kiri had gotten their hands on an eye, Kumo was far more ambitious.
Despite the appearance of peace, they never fully gave up on scoring yet another major win.
Still, the end of the war didn't mean that shinobi could rest, only that some could, and the rest were back to missions as usual. Many missions had been left unattended or delayed for years, so there were plenty to go around.
In particular, with the high number of missing-nin running around, there was plenty of work for those who hunted their kind, and bandits, too, reared their heads.
Many had been hiding because of the shinobi armies, but they had been building up; without missions to clear them out, they had taken advantage of the lull to grow.
So now, it was time to hunt, to kill, and to earn mission fees.
But it was also a time for mourning; now that the war was over, everyone could mourn freely.
In Konoha, the great stone monument, which carried the names of all those who gave their lives for the village, was visited constantly.
From young people like Kakashi Hatake who mourned the death of their teammates, to parents who had lost their children, lovers who lost their partners, and children who lost their loving parents.
Even the proud clans such as the Uchiha and Hyūga paid their respects, though both clans had their own memorials within their compounds, places they could honor their dead.
The Hyūga, in particular, had two, one for the branch family and one for the main family, with one being far larger than the other.
Yet, for the first time ever, one name was written on both.
Yuki Hyūga was born to the branch family, yet they alone couldn't claim ownership of her. Since a young age, the tender age of three, she had been promised to the main family, a bridge connecting them both.
A bridge that had now been torn down and burned.
Many within the branch family blamed the main family for her death because, of that entire team, a dozen elites of the branch family had been wiped out, and even the only survivor among them was left crippled.
Only the main family member was spared, his life bought at the cost of so many others.
Despite this being their duty, despite even Yuki herself sacrificing her life toward this goal, the many deaths left deep wounds. And worse yet, they weren't rewarded for it, not at all.
They fought and died for a war that wasn't theirs, for rewards they never got; all they received were broken hearts and empty wallets.
But within the walls of Konoha, it wasn't just the branch family of the Hyūga clan that held dissatisfaction in their hearts; many did, especially those in the know. The great clans all knew, and it made them angry.
They knew that they had bled, their clans losing blood and coin both, and all for nothing. Because the Hokage decided to demand nothing from the defeated villages.
No compensation for their losses.
In fact, many lost much more than blood and coin, as the leadership was quick to point out that since they had fewer active shinobi, they should receive fewer benefits from the village, completely ignoring that the reason they had fewer shinobi was because they had died fighting for the village, under the Hokage's orders.
Their voices, while weakened, couldn't be ignored, and under the pressure, Hiruzen Sarutobi, the so-called God of Shinobi, the strongest Hokage, was forced to step down.
Though not before making sure his chosen successor was the one to pick up the hat after him, someone who might be strong enough for the role but didn't have the political backing needed, forcing that successor to rely on him.
Allowing Hiruzen to remain at the center of power.
Still, it only quelled some of the heat; many were still left angry, wanting more. Indeed, the new young Hokage, Minato Namikaze, the famous Yellow Flash, was left with quite a task ahead of him.
Konoha had peace, at least on the surface, and that peace allowed everyone to return to normal life.
Life went on.
Loss and pain were not forgotten, but buried, as everyone had to move on and start anew.
Some succeeded, some failed, yet still, life went on. Konoha still stood, still undefeated, still with a bright future ahead of it.
(End of chapter)
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