Ebisu's team had been history for a while now.
Musashi had joined the Anbu Black Ops.
Izumi had transferred to the Medical Corps.
After recovering from his injuries, Ebisu felt he was no longer suited for combat or the responsibilities of a squad leader. He formally applied to Hiruzen Sarutobi to become a specialized instructor focused on nurturing new talent.
As for Daiki Nojiri, he was living the most relaxed life of them all.
Seeing his teacher and teammates move on one by one, he decided to quit being a ninja altogether.
As the heir to Shueido—one of Konoha's biggest taxpayers—Daiki applied for an exemption from ninja duties to focus entirely on his art. Considering the tax revenue he generated far outweighed the profits from any mission he could complete, Hiruzen Sarutobi happily approved the request.
For some reason, the Anbu's workload had been unusually light recently.
Yamato even approached Musashi and told him to take a long vacation.
Musashi, naturally, was more than happy to oblige. Punching the clock and doing missions was boring. It didn't offer the freedom that independent training did.
So, he hit up Daiki for a few "Ink Birds" for transportation and applied to Hiruzen for permission to leave the village.
His excuse? He wanted to visit the Hidden Rain Village to see his father, Kenta Ryomiya's, grave and see if he could relocate it back to Konoha.
Hiruzen couldn't really refuse a request like that.
However, Musashi had no intention of going to the Rain Village.
He planned to handle his own business and then come up with a random excuse when he got back. Something like: "The Rain Village discovered Kenta was a spy and blew up the grave."
Easy to explain.
The Land of Grass.
Located at the intersection of the Land of Fire, Wind, and Earth.
For a small nation, it had a significant number of ninjas, known for studying and stealing jutsu from other countries. It was a place of constant warfare.
A giant bird made of ink descended from the sky.
Musashi leaped off the bird's back.
Today, he wasn't wearing his signature green spandex, nor was he in a Konoha flak jacket.
He wore loose white robes that draped over his lean, muscular frame. With his short, neat hair and handsome features, he looked sharp and full of life.
The giant bird dissolved, transforming back into a drawing on a scroll.
Musashi packed the scroll away and observed the Grass Village from a distance.
"Looks peaceful enough," Musashi murmured.
From the outside, the Grass Village didn't look much different from Konoha. It was a scene of vibrant life, hiding the sins within.
Maybe Konoha was the same.
They were all just putting on a show. A certain "Shadow of the Fire" had certainly done his fair share of dirty work for the sake of Konoha.
After admiring the scenery for a moment, Musashi withdrew his gaze.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
Poof! Poof!
Two figures instantly vanished from the spot.
Musashi walked toward where the Grass Village Hospital should be.
He didn't have a strong memory of Karin Uzumaki's location.
He vaguely remembered it being near the hospital. The mother and daughter lived in a shabby room. They were used by injured ninjas until they were drained, then returned to their hovel until they died.
He wasn't sure how many hospitals the Grass Village had or exactly where the hut was.
He'd just have to search slowly.
He'd find them eventually.
---
Over an hour later.
After circling almost the entire village, Musashi finally spotted a familiar-looking, dilapidated shack.
It was tucked away in a corner on the outskirts of the hospital grounds.
There was no one around, so he walked straight toward it.
He imagined what he might find. A destitute mother and daughter. Maybe a little girl covered in scars.
He pushed the door open.
In the dim room, there was no little girl.
A musty smell of mold and a faint scent of decay hit him in the face.
A figure lay motionless on the bed.
It was an adult.
Karin's mother isn't dead yet?
That means Karin hasn't suffered the same fate as her mother yet?
Feeling a surge of emotion, Musashi approached.
Dry, whitening long hair was scattered over the bed. It was a woman.
The scent of decay—the smell of approaching death—was radiating from her.
Exposed outside the yellowed blanket was withered skin covered in bite marks.
The wretched state of her body was terrifying.
Musashi's expression remained calm, but his pupils darkened slightly.
He reached out and gently touched the withered skin covered in scars.
Arms, neck, cheeks.
The texture felt like old leather; the bumps of the scars were enough to make one's skin crawl.
The figure stirred.
Under Musashi's gaze, the woman slowly, laboriously opened her eyes.
She looked at Musashi, and it took a long while before she could squeeze a few words out of her throat.
"Do... do you need... need me again?"
Receiving no response, the woman tried to open her eyes a little wider.
She felt like she was going to die.
But dying didn't matter.
If they needed her...
She could do it.
Anything.
If she could hold on for just a little longer, she could buy her daughter more time.
She forced her throat to make a sound again.
"I... I can..."
A finger gently pressed against her lips.
She felt something was wrong.
Straining harder, opening the slit of her eyes just a bit more...
She saw the person in front of her.
It was a man.
Very handsome, and very young.
But he wasn't from the village.
The men in the village were violent and impatient. They wouldn't have this man's warm, gentle chakra.
The man was looking at her, his eyes filled with guilt and compassion.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry I came so late."
The woman's eyes moved stiffly.
Then, a tiny spark of light began to fill them.
Her breathing, which had been faint to the point of stopping, suddenly became rapid.
She tried hard to turn her body, wanting to see the man more clearly.
She couldn't.
But she saw it. His hair was black.
Not red.
"You are..."
"Who... are you..."
Musashi stepped closer, letting himself be fully visible in her line of sight.
"Who I am doesn't matter."
"My teacher... was also an Uzumaki."
At those words, a light suddenly burst from the woman's eyes.
It was the brilliant light of hope seen right before life extinguishes.
But soon, that light was replaced by fear.
She tried to lift her hand, but only her fingers twitched.
Musashi took her hand.
He saw the fear in her eyes.
He said, "Don't worry."
"The people here can't stop me."
"I'm taking Karin with me. The Grass Ninjas can't stop me."
The woman finally became emotional.
Lying on the bed, tears gushed out, soaking the pillow.
"If you have anything to say, tell me. Don't worry, there's time."
"There's time."
Even as he said it, Musashi's heart sank.
Even though he wasn't a sensor type, he could feel the heavy aura of death clinging to her.
Or rather, in this state, she was already a dead woman walking.
Her body had withered away; only her final lingering will was keeping her from fading away completely.
The woman gazed at Musashi.
Her lips trembled, her eyes fixed on him.
She seemed to have so many things she wanted to say.
But looking into his eyes, she used her last ounce of strength to spit out a few words.
"Treat... treat her... well..."
"I promise."
The light in her eyes went out.
The sliver of life that shouldn't have remained this long finally dissipated. The corners of the woman's dry, cracked lips held a faint smile.
To see hope before dying... she must be happy on her way to the afterlife.
Musashi stood quietly, watching the woman.
He felt it—he felt her life force completely vanish.
The body temperature, barely maintained before, dropped rapidly.
She became a complete, wretched corpse.
He took out a storage scroll and sealed her body inside, along with the few small belongings in the room.
Then, he turned and began walking toward the hospital.
He walked slowly.
He was afraid that if he walked too fast, the murderous rage burning in his heart would be impossible to suppress.