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Chapter 52 — A Compromise of Necessity
Sheets of white paper fluttered into the room, gathering before Genshi and taking the shape of Konan.
Expressionless, she stared at the frail, ancient man before her.
Nestled against her chest, Alex studied Genshi as well. The man's hair and teeth were gone, his sallow skin sagged into folds that nearly swallowed his features. Even though he tried to maintain composure, each breath revealed his weakness.
He was an old man with one foot in the grave — Alex wouldn't have been surprised if he collapsed in the next second.
This was the man they had come for.
From Takeda's information, they knew Genshi was overseeing the project to re-create the Yuki and Kaguya bloodlines. He would certainly possess samples of their kekkei genkai.
But in a vast village like Kirigakure, how could they locate a reclusive elder who almost never appeared in public?
Alex had devised a plan — to flush him out.
Konan's paper clone, disguised through Transformation Jutsu, would openly head to the cemetery. If she could directly secure the biological samples of the Yuki and Kaguya, all the better. If not, she would let herself be "discovered," drawing out the Mizukage.
A village of this size that couldn't even detect a Transformation Jutsu would be full of fools.
Mei's shock and anger had likely prompted her to alert or protect Genshi — either way, Konan could follow the Anbu trail straight to him.
Konan's sharp eyes swept across the room — no traps, no hidden chakra presences.
Her gaze fixed on the elder. "The Anbu didn't notice me tailing them," she said coldly, "but you did."
Genshi's sunken lips curved faintly. "To survive from before the founding of the shinobi villages, through countless upheavals and brushes with death, one must have a few tricks left."
"Heh." Konan gave a mirthless laugh. "Since you knew I was here, why dismiss your guards? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you? Or do you think you can defeat me?"
Any other man would have raised an alarm instantly — not withdrawn his protection.
Genshi sighed, voice heavy with weariness. "I am old, my strength gone. My chakra is fading; I can no longer fight you young ones..."
"Kirigakure can endure no more turmoil," he continued softly. "We cannot afford any more damage or loss."
He turned his head, gazing through the open hall toward the misty sky unique to the village. His tone carried helpless resignation.
"Ten years of the Bloody Mist nearly destroyed us. We mustn't suffer that again."
Then he looked back to Konan and gestured to the seat across from him. "A guest is a guest. Please, sit. You needn't worry — even if the Mizukage senses something amiss, it will take her time to arrive. And since you dared enter Kirigakure alone, you must have confidence enough to rival even her."
Konan gave no reply, but she sat opposite him.
He doesn't want Kirigakure harmed...
Alex studied Genshi and understood the choice.
If Konan clashed head-on with Mei Terumī and the village's forces, the devastation would be immense — casualties, destroyed buildings, chaos. Genshi likely preferred compromise to open war.
It was, Alex thought, a wise choice.
The old man had surely guessed their purpose. If surrendering the samples could prevent disaster, it was an acceptable trade.
Konan saw it too. "So," she said coldly, "you already know what I've come for."
Genshi lifted his teacup, savoring a sip with a faint smile. "Good tea... harvested long ago from an island deep in the sea. It refreshes the mouth and lingers on the tongue. Won't you try some?"
Konan said nothing, her face unreadable.
He chuckled softly and set the cup down. He didn't mind her refusal; he wouldn't drink from a stranger either. Ninjas used every means to complete a mission — trust was a luxury none of them could afford.
Even though the tea was harmless, he understood.
His clouded eyes grew thoughtful, voice hoarse with age. "After the Bloody Mist, Kirigakure's foundation is nearly gone. There's little left here worth your notice."
"You didn't visit the Yuki and Kaguya monuments to mourn them. You came for their corpses — or rather, their bloodline limit."
Konan's voice remained cold. "You're old, but not senile. Since you've chosen wisely, hand it over."
She had no fondness for the leaders of the great villages. If not for his age and his cooperative attitude, she would have ended his life already.
Genshi sighed in defeat. "Please wait a moment. I've already sent someone to retrieve them."
"The Yuki and Kaguya bloodline samples are stored in the underground research facility. They'll be here soon."
For the sake of Kirigakure, he had no choice but to compromise. The village now had only one Kage-level shinobi — Mei Terumī. The Anbu and jōnin were hastily trained in recent years; by old standards, none of them truly qualified. But with the lack of talent, they had to make do.
The tea before Konan cooled as Genshi finished his own cup.
With trembling hands, he lifted the steaming teapot again and refilled his cup, then topped off Konan's half-filled one. He knew she wouldn't drink; he had poured only half earlier. The scent of tea alone was enough to calm the air.
He set the teapot aside — no need for a third brew.
His gaze lingered on the red clouds of Konan's cloak, tinged with nostalgia. "Akatsuki... I first heard of your group twenty years ago."
"A band of young dreamers — full of ideals and hope. During the Third Great Ninja War, your names still echoed across the battlefield. But soon after, you vanished, like a comet burning out. And when you reappeared, it was as a shadow — a terror that made the world tremble."
Konan's face remained icy, silent.
Ever since Yahiko's death and Nagato's despair, Akatsuki had lost its color — its light twisted by Madara's will.
Genshi shook his head slowly. "Akatsuki has strayed far from its original purpose."
Konan clenched her fists unconsciously. "This twisted world could never bear Akatsuki's ideals."
"Yes..." Genshi nodded. "This world has been warped beyond recognition by shinobi bloodshed. The innocence you once dreamed of cannot exist here anymore."
"But tell me," he continued quietly, "was your leader's sermon above Konoha — that philosophy of pain — truly the right path?"