The rain never stopped.
It fell endlessly from the gray sky above, thin at times, heavy at others—but always present. It soaked the earth, filled the air, and clung to everything like an unwanted memory.
Nagato walked through it without hesitation.
Each step splashed softly against the muddy ground, his sandals already worn from days of travel. His cloak—simple, dark, and practical—hung loosely over his small frame, shielding him just enough to keep the chill from settling too deep into his bones.
"…So this is Amegakure."
The Hidden Rain Village.
Even from a distance, it felt different.
Not just in appearance—but in atmosphere.
Oppressive.
Heavy.
Alive.
As he stepped closer, the structure of the village revealed itself.
Tall metal towers.
Narrow streets.
Pipes running across walls like veins.
Everything looked industrial, cold, and utilitarian—built for survival, not comfort.
"This place wasn't designed for people to live," Nagato thought.
"It was designed for them to endure."
The streets were crowded, but strangely quiet.
People moved quickly, keeping their heads low. Conversations were short, hushed. Eyes avoided contact.
Fear lived here.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But constant.
Nagato slowed his pace slightly, observing everything.
Children sat near broken walls, thin and silent.
Vendors guarded their goods like predators.
Shinobi passed by occasionally—each one radiating danger.
"…No one is safe here."
This wasn't the version of the Rain Village he remembered from watching anime.
There was no dramatic music.
No cinematic angles.
No heroic aura.
Just reality.
Raw and unforgiving.
Nagato pulled his hood slightly lower.
"Blend in first."
"Act later."
He moved deeper into the village, following the scent of food and the faint sound of distant chatter.
Markets.
That's where they would be.
Konan and Yahiko.
From memory, he knew enough.
Orphans.
Survivors.
Thieves out of necessity.
"If I were them…"
He scanned the surroundings carefully.
"I'd target distracted vendors."
Then—
A sudden shout cut through the rain.
"HEY! STOP!"
Nagato's eyes shifted instantly.
Two figures burst out of a narrow alley.
Running.
Fast.
A boy with messy orange hair.
A girl with short blue hair.
"…Found them."
Yahiko.
Konan.
They ran with practiced coordination.
Not perfect—but experienced.
This wasn't their first time.
Behind them—
A shopkeeper gave chase, shouting angrily.
Two larger men followed, clearly not just merchants.
Enforcers.
Nagato didn't move.
Not yet.
He watched.
Carefully.
Yahiko clutched a small bag tightly.
Food.
Their target.
But the ground was wet.
Unstable.
His foot slipped.
He stumbled—
—and fell hard.
"Yahiko!" Konan stopped instantly.
She turned back without hesitation.
"…Idiot," Nagato muttered under his breath.
"Too reckless."
The pursuers caught up quickly.
"Thought you could steal from us?" one of the men growled, grabbing Yahiko by the collar.
Yahiko struggled.
"We needed food!"
"Oh? Then starve."
The man raised his hand.
Konan stepped forward.
Her expression calm—but tense.
"Let him go," she said quietly.
The man smirked.
"Or what?"
Nagato exhaled slowly.
"…That's enough."
He stepped forward.
Not fast.
Not dramatic.
Just… deliberate.
No one noticed him at first.
Until—
The air changed.
A subtle pressure spread outward.
Not visible.
But felt.
Heavy.
Cold.
Unnatural.
The man paused mid-motion.
"…What the hell…?"
Nagato stopped a few steps behind them.
Rain slid off his hood as he spoke.
"Let them go."
Simple.
Calm.
Absolute.
The men turned.
"…Who are you supposed to be?" one of them sneered.
"Another brat?"
Nagato didn't respond.
For a brief moment—
His eyes flickered.
The Rinnegan appeared.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
The world seemed to distort slightly.
The rain felt heavier.
The air… thicker.
The men froze.
Something primal kicked in.
Instinct.
Fear.
"…Tch."
One of them stepped back.
"Forget it."
The other hesitated—but followed.
"Not worth it…"
They released Yahiko and backed away.
Then turned.
And left.
Fast.
Silence returned.
Only the sound of rain remained.
Yahiko coughed slightly, rubbing his neck.
Konan watched the retreating figures… then slowly turned toward Nagato.
"…You did something," she said.
Not a question.
A statement.
Nagato shrugged slightly.
"Maybe."
Yahiko stood up quickly.
"Hey! Thanks!"
Nagato looked at him.
Bright eyes.
Stubborn spirit.
"…You're reckless."
Yahiko grinned.
"And you're strong."
Nagato raised an eyebrow.
"Observation skills need work."
Konan stepped closer.
Her gaze sharp.
Careful.
"You're not from here," she said.
Nagato tilted his head slightly.
"Why do you think that?"
"You don't act like you belong," she replied.
"You're not afraid."
Nagato smiled faintly.
"…Good answer."
Yahiko crossed his arms.
"So who are you?"
Nagato looked at both of them.
For a moment—
He considered lying.
But then—
"…Nagato."
Yahiko blinked.
"That's it?"
Nagato shrugged.
"That's enough."
Konan exchanged a glance with Yahiko.
"…I'm Konan," she said.
"Yahiko," he added.
"I know."
"…What?"
Nagato ignored the confusion.
Instead—
He looked at the small bag in Yahiko's hand.
"You risked your life for that?"
Yahiko tightened his grip slightly.
"…We were hungry."
Nagato studied them both.
Thin.
Tired.
But not broken.
"…Makes sense."
Silence settled briefly.
Then Yahiko suddenly stepped forward.
"You're strong," he said.
Nagato didn't respond.
"Teach us."
Direct.
No hesitation.
Nagato stared at him.
"…Why?"
Yahiko clenched his fists.
"So I can protect people."
Konan looked down slightly.
"…So no one dies like before."
Nagato's gaze softened—just slightly.
"…That so."
He looked up at the sky.
Rain continued to fall.
Endless.
"…Same reason."
Yahiko blinked.
"Then you'll teach us?"
Nagato turned back toward them.
"…Maybe."
Yahiko leaned forward.
"Maybe?"
Nagato smirked faintly.
"First lesson."
They both focused.
"Don't die."
"…Huh?"
Nagato turned and started walking.
"If you can survive," he said calmly, "then we'll talk about strength."
He didn't look back.
For a moment—
Neither of them moved.
Then—
Yahiko grinned.
"I like this guy."
Konan watched Nagato's back carefully.
"…He's dangerous."
Yahiko shrugged.
"So are we."
After a brief pause—
They followed him.
Three figures walked through the rain.
No shelter.
No guarantees.
But something had changed.
A connection.
A beginning.
High above—
Hidden beyond sight—
Something stirred.
Watching.
Waiting.
Because in a world ruled by war—
Even the smallest meeting…
Could change everything.