"Lord Hanzō."
In the end, Hyūga Akira chose to remain by Hanzō's side—for now.
Based on the intelligence he'd gathered, Konoha had already entered a semi-stagnant state. Most of its ninja were on standby, waiting for a war that could erupt at any moment.
Even if he returned to Konoha now, he'd likely be stuck without missions. Leveling up would become painfully difficult.
Was he supposed to just sit around and wait for the war to start?
That was unacceptable.
He'd only been here a few months and had already reached level 21. His strength had multiplied several times over.
How could he willingly go back to Konoha?
Compared to this place—where danger lurked everywhere and opportunities to grow were everywhere—Konoha felt stagnant.
The choice was obvious.
"Hm."
Hanzō nodded lightly in response, his gaze never leaving the desk in front of him.
A sheet of white paper lay there. Holding a brush, he was slowly writing something, stroke by stroke.
Akira stood directly in front of him and couldn't see what was written.
He discreetly activated his Byakugan and confirmed that this was indeed Hanzō's real body.
Hanzō finished the final stroke, examined the paper, and—without looking up—said,
"Come here. Take a look. How is it?"
Akira stood up honestly and walked over.
On the paper was a single character:
雨 — Rain.
Akira wasn't knowledgeable about calligraphy, but the moment he saw the character, a chill ran down his spine. It felt as though killing intent surged straight out of the ink.
So writing really could carry presence.
"It's very well written," Akira said seriously.
"Next time… don't write it."
"Hm?"
Hanzō finally looked up, surprise flashing across his face. That was not an answer he'd expected.
"You're not afraid of me?"
In the Hidden Rain, many worshipped him—but just as many feared him.
Yet from Akira's face, Hanzō couldn't see even a trace of fear. Even his respectful attitude felt oddly perfunctory.
This was the first time Hanzō had properly observed Akira. Before, he'd only glanced at him in passing.
Did this boy truly revere him?
Hanzō couldn't feel it at all.
"There's nothing frightening about you, Lord Hanzō," Akira replied casually.
If Hanzō weren't such a high-level existence, Akira would already be drawing his blade and starting a boss fight.
What was there to fear?
He only hated that his level was too low and his strength insufficient.
"Hahaha!"
Hanzō burst out laughing. After a moment, he looked at Akira with renewed interest.
"You're an interesting one."
Perhaps it was precisely because this boy felt no fear that he could see things so clearly.
"Come with me to the Hidden Rain Village," Hanzō said, setting the brush aside.
"…Huh?" Akira stared at him in surprise.
"Is it really okay to go back like this?"
Everyone knew that Shōzō was hunting Hanzō. It wasn't exactly a secret within the base.
Hanzō calmly put away the paper and glanced at Akira.
"You seem to have misunderstood my relationship with the Hidden Rain."
"I have not betrayed the village. I merely disagree with its leader."
"What he does in secret is beyond my control."
Akira understood immediately.
On the surface, it was smiles all around—peace and harmony.
But in the shadows, both sides wished for the other's death.
Once they entered the Hidden Rain Village, Akira finally understood Hanzō's true standing.
At the village entrance, rows of ninja knelt on both sides of the road, forming a living corridor.
"Lord Hanzō!"
The unified shout echoed through the entire village.
Akira didn't need further proof—Hanzō's relationship with the village was more than solid.
No, this was too much.
Wasn't this level of reception openly provoking Shōzō?
Akira scanned his surroundings but didn't see anyone who looked like the village's official leader.
On the surface, Hanzō clearly held the advantage.
In secret, however, Shōzō seemed to be the one holding the upper hand.
What Akira couldn't understand was this:
With Hanzō's prestige at this level, how was Shōzō even able to oppose him?
Was it really just "righteous authority" crushing everything else?
Like the so-called Will of Fire—where believing together somehow justified forgiving even the slaughter of one's entire family?
Akira was deeply shaken.
Hanzō walked straight down the center of the road, expression unchanged. Akira followed half a step behind.
Everyone remained kneeling, eyes fixed on them.
Suddenly, Akira's gaze snapped to a building on the left.
From within came a glance filled with killing intent.
When Akira looked back, the owner of that gaze was clearly startled—and quickly withdrew it.
Akira guessed that this person was Shōzō, the so-called leader of the Hidden Rain Village—a man with virtually no presence in recorded history.
Not even a passing mention.
Hanzō turned toward the building. Akira slowed slightly, following behind.
As he observed the village more closely, Akira felt genuine surprise.
Most buildings were stone constructions, but there were also unmistakably modern elements—like utility poles.
There were power lines here.
Compared to the rest of the Land of Rain, this place felt like a completely different world.
Outside was practically the Warring States era, while the Hidden Rain was inching toward modernity.
The disparity was absurd.
Did no one find this technological development strange? This kind of progress was downright unnatural.
Akira couldn't help but complain inwardly.
Still, he remained silent, dutifully playing the role of a useless bodyguard.
After all, if a fight broke out, no employer should ever need protection from their own guard.
That role belonged to him.
They reached the fifth floor—the top of the building.
The entire floor had been converted into living space, tatami mats laid out neatly.
Ahead sat an elderly man with long hair, calmly pouring tea at a low table.
Two cups were soon filled with green tea.
Matcha again.
How had this world managed to develop an entire tea culture from just matcha?
Absurd. Truly absurd.
"You've come, Hanzō," the old man said gently, a warm smile on his face.
If not for Akira's keen senses, he would never have noticed the murderous intent hidden beneath that smile.
This must be him.
Shōzō—the leader of the Hidden Rain.
"Teacher," Hanzō acknowledged, lifting a hand slightly.
Akira immediately understood. His body blurred into motion, and he leapt up onto the ceiling beams.
Several figures were already clinging upside-down to the rafters.
The moment Akira joined them, every gaze turned toward him.
He smiled awkwardly and waved in greeting.
No one responded. All eyes returned to the conversation below.
Hanzō knelt across from Shōzō at the tea table.
Shōzō slid a cup toward him, a nostalgic look on his face.
"Seeing you like this brings back memories," he said softly.
"You were the only experiment of mine who survived."
What kind of hellish memories are you reminiscing about?!
That was Hanzō's trauma!
Hanzō did not respond directly. Instead, his voice grew heavy.
"Teacher… the Land of Rain is crying."
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