The night was quiet. Kimimaro, Ishitaro, and Kigetsu had all drifted off to sleep. Takizo, however, was wide awake.
He stared at Kimimaro sleeping peacefully next to him. Replaying the kid's words from earlier in his head, Takizo felt a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
When did I first meet Kimimaro?
Right when he was born.
I was barely three years old. When I heard someone in the clan had named their kid 'Kimimaro,' I was ecstatic. It was the first time since transmigrating that I'd encountered a character I actually knew from the original story.
But that excitement instantly turned into panic. Because Kimimaro's existence meant the countdown to the Kaguya Clan massacre had officially started.
That was why Takizo had always kept a close eye on him. Kimimaro had spent his early years following Takizo around like a little duckling, constantly calling out, "Big Brother! Big Brother!"
Until he turned three. That was when they locked him up in this cave. It had been nearly three years now.
For three years, Kimimaro had been trapped in this lightless dungeon.
Takizo could open the cell door, but he couldn't break the seal on the chains around Kimimaro's waist.
For three years, Kimimaro hadn't seen the outside world.
The more Takizo thought about it, the more suffocated he felt. He sat up, trying to shake the feeling, only to realize his sleeve was pinned down. Kimimaro was clutching it tightly in his sleep.
His chest felt even heavier now. Takizo gently slid his arm out, took off his shirt, and decided to go outside for some fresh air.
"Huh? What's that?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Takizo noticed something strange on the stone wall in the corner where Kimimaro always curled up. It looked like a face.
He crept closer, a tiny spark of electricity dancing on his fingertip to light up the dark corner.
In the faint blue glow, he saw it. It was indeed a face carved into the stone.
It was his face.
"Kimimaro carved it," Kigetsu whispered. She was awake, watching him. "He said this way, you would always be with him."
The spark on Takizo's finger flickered, casting unstable shadows across the stone carving.
Silence stretched out in the cell for a long time.
"I'm going for a walk," Takizo finally whispered.
His voice was hollow and weak, like the last breath of a dying man.
Without waiting for a response, Takizo walked out of the cell. His pace quickened as he moved down the tunnel—faster, and faster.
Suddenly, he stopped dead in front of the cell that held the screaming prisoner from earlier that day.
Takizo waited. He hoped.
He was praying the guy would start shouting insults again. Just one provocation. That was all he needed—an excuse to unleash all his frustration, to beat someone senseless and vent this suffocating rage.
Maybe then he could convince himself to wait a little longer. Just endure it a bit more. Gather a little more strength. Increase his odds of survival by another one percent.
But the tunnel remained silent. The only sound was Takizo's own ragged breathing.
---
The moonlight was quiet. The summer night felt heavy and oppressive.
Takizo stood by a pool of water, staring at the moon's reflection. His mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts.
Why am I so shaken up? he asked himself.
Is it because of Kimimaro's suffering? The prisoner's madness? The suffocating atmosphere of the clan?
Or is it because I have absolutely no control over my own life?
Yes. It was all of it.
For eight years, fear of the impending massacre had paralyzed him. He had focused solely on training, terrified that any other action might butterfly-effect the timeline and trigger the genocide early.
He had endured for eight years. But tonight, something snapped. He finally understood.
When you're a Genin, you tell yourself to wait until you're a Chunin. When you're a Chunin, you think Jonin is safer. When you're a Jonin, you start aiming for Kage level.
If you get used to enduring, you'll endure until the day you die.
Takizo refused to drown in the quicksand of patience. He wanted to struggle. Even if that struggle meant he might drown faster.
Takizo smiled.
"I don't know when the time bomb is set to go off... but I sure as hell can detonate it myself," he whispered. He scooped up a handful of water and watched it slip through his fingers. "And I can make the explosion way bigger."
He stood up and stretched as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon. His body hummed with energy.
Despite not sleeping a wink, his mind was crystal clear.
"Alright. Let's go to the Hidden Mist Village. Time to figure out a way to meet some VIPs. I'm going to cook up something massive—for the Kaguya Clan, for the Mist Village, and for Obito Uchiha."
He paused, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Turns out, I'm the crazy one after all."
---
After saying goodbye to Kimimaro, Takizo headed out. He ambushed a random Genin squad leaving the village for a mission, picked the guy who looked most generic, and knocked him out.
Using his ability to manipulate his facial bones, he performed a gruesome but effective transformation, reshaping his face to match the Genin's. He strolled right through the Hidden Mist gates without issue.
Once inside, he found a deserted alley and shifted his face back.
He untied his signature Kaguya topknot, letting his hair fall loose, and tied a Mist forehead protector securely over his forehead, hiding the two tell-tale red dots of his clan.
At a glance, he looked like any fresh-faced academy graduate.
Wandering the streets, Takizo thought back to the gate guards and shook his head.
Obito is really doing a number on this place, he thought. The Hidden Mist is practically on life support. Who puts two Genin in charge of the main gate? Do they even know what they're looking for?
He glanced at the Mizukage's office building but decided to steer clear. Instead, he headed toward the Ninja Academy.
"Do they let kids out for lunch?" Takizo wondered, rubbing his chin. "I never actually went to school here."
The Kaguya Clan was technically part of the Hidden Mist, but they weren't integrated. It was more like the Warring States era system—a vassal clan attached to a larger power.
So, Takizo wasn't technically a Mist ninja. The headband he was wearing? Let's just say he was thankful for "nature's bounty."
(And by nature, he meant the poor kid he mugged earlier.)
Takizo was lost in thought when a commotion broke out near the school.
"Haha! You think this crappy school can hold me?!" A small figure vaulted over the school gate. "I'm the man who's gonna become one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist!"
The kid nimbly dodged a chasing teacher and sprinted straight toward Takizo's hiding spot.
Takizo grinned and pressed his palms together. "Thank you for the meal."
As the kid ran past, Takizo reached out to grab him.
"An ambush?!" the kid yelled. "Not good enough! Hydrification Technique!"
His body turned into liquid, easily slipping through Takizo's grasp.
Just as the kid opened his mouth to taunt his attacker, he saw electricity crackling around Takizo's hand.
"Eh?"