A Kumogakure Ninja frowned and reached out toward him. Before the hand could touch his shoulder, Nurui shrank back violently.
"No, I don't want to!" he shouted hoarsely. His voice twisted with fear, and his eyes showed wild rejection. "I don't want to go back to the battlefield. I want to go home."
He threw off his blanket and stumbled to his feet. Ignoring the shocked and worried looks, he rushed out of the crowded tent like a madman. Cold rain soaked his thin clothes, sending chills through him that could not extinguish the fear inside.
I can't go. I can't go back to the battlefield. I'll die.
The thought took root and grew fast. He had to run, to leave this place, to escape the front line. He staggered through the camp, rain blurring his vision, and charged toward the command tent.
"Stop, Nurui! What are you doing?"
Shouts rang out as others tried to stop him. Fear had swallowed his reason, and like a cornered beast driven into Zetsu territory, he burst through the heavy curtain.
The tent was brightly lit and warm. The new front line commander from Kumogakure, a scarred Jonin, sat at a wooden table studying a map. Orders stamped with the seal of Raikage lay beside it.
Nurui's sudden entry broke the silence. The Kumogakure Jonin looked up, his eyes landing on the soaked and shaking subordinate. He recognized Nurui, one of the few skilled in Earth Release, but this was not the man he remembered.
"Nurui," he said coldly. "Breaking into the command tent…"
Before he could finish, Nurui collapsed to his knees. He looked up, rain and tears running down his face, his eyes full of pleading fear. His voice shook as he begged to be transferred anywhere off the front line.
The commander's gaze hardened. He glanced at the figures gathering outside and already had a guess. He knew the war had gone on too long, and resentment was growing.
That was exactly why he could not allow this. If he did, morale would crack. Standing, he looked down at the trembling man.
"There is no position for deserters here," he said flatly.
"I'm not a deserter," Nurui cried. "I just can't do it anymore. I'll die."
A more extreme thought rose in his breaking mind. If he was injured, he would not have to go. The idea took full control.
He drew his Ninja Blade, the blade flashing under the lamp. Before anyone could stop him, he brought it down on his own hand. Blood sprayed as bone and flesh were cut through.
He screamed in pain, his face twisting pale White. Still, he forced himself to look up with a broken smile. He begged again, his voice weak and shaking.
The tent fell silent. Only his heavy breathing and the sound of dripping blood remained. The commander stared at the severed hand, anger replacing shock.
"Enough," he said. "Bind it, then return to your unit. Prepare for battle tomorrow."
"In Kumogakure, we have heroes who die in battle, not cowards who run."
Those words crushed the last light in Nurui's eyes. His madness, hope, and pain froze into Zetsu Wang. At last, his head drooped, and that feeling turned into hatred.
The Land of Water stood apart from the mainland, the only island nation among the Five Great Nations. Its islands were wrapped in rain and fog, with jagged coasts and deep forests that made it hard to attack. This land gave birth to the name Kirigakure.
Isolation shaped its culture and harsh policies, especially under the rule of Third Hokage. Though Fourth Mizukage later overthrew that rule, his own nature changed over time. Purges followed, and Kirigakure became known as the Bloody Mist.
Even graduation at the Ninja Academy turned into students killing each other. The Ninja of Kirigakure were forged into cold tools that followed orders without question.
The Kaguya clan, bearers of the Kekkei Genkai called Shikotsumyaku, wavered in this bloodshed. They feared the blade yet burned for battle. In the depths of Kirigakure, within a dungeon, a child was kept.
The boy was small, with gray White hair and pale skin. His empty eyes held no childlike light. He carved a vague face into the stone with his own bone, just to fight loneliness.
He remembered only his name, Kimimaro. Words like "monster" and "weapon" were all he heard. When the door finally opened, light flooded in and a voice called him.
"You are needed."
That word filled the hollow inside him. He followed without hesitation, bone spikes growing quietly in his palm. To be needed, even as a tool, was enough.
Across Land of Fire, Land of Hot Water, Land of Lightning, and Land of Water, such grudges were countless. In Las Noches, beyond the Ninja World, a figure called Shadow looked down at three kneeling forms.
"These pains are our fuel," he said softly. Then he rose and smiled. "Go, and announce our existence to the world."
Space tore open before him, and he stepped through.
Rain poured down in sheets, and the deafening crashes rolled without end like heavy thunder. Two blue Susanoo struck each other again and again, massive fists wrapped in violent air slamming into bodies and heads. Each collision burst with visible force, tearing up the ground and nearby trees, even twisting the air itself.
The rain was smashed apart by the shockwaves, instantly breaking into White mist before being blown away by even stronger blasts. The two half-bodied giants moved with wide, forceful motions, every action filled with raw strength. Their fighting styles were almost identical, with the same sidesteps, the same blocks and counters, and the same straight heavy punches, as if they were fighting before a huge mirror.
Yet small differences slowly appeared within the brutal clash. The Susanoo controlled by Mirror Obito moved with greater calm, precision, and efficiency. Every dodge was exact, every block cleverly dispersed force, and every counter struck at flaws in transitions or weak joints.
His combat was like a precise machine, steady and seasoned by countless battles. Even with broad movements, he wasted almost no strength, pushing each attack to its maximum effect. By contrast, the Susanoo controlled by Obito Uchiha looked more violent and savage, with a faint but growing impatience.
His attacks were powerful and faster, but there were tiny delays or excessive force between movements, showing his poor control of Susanoo. His dodges were too wide, his blocks often head-on, and his counters carried a venting fury that exposed more openings. These flaws became clearer with every exchange.
Bang!
Mirror Obito seized the moment when a heavy punch missed and stiffness followed. The giant left arm of his Susanoo slammed like a siege hammer into the right shoulder joint of Obito Uchiha's Susanoo.
kacha!
A teeth-grating Sui Lie rang out as the Chakra covering that shoulder shattered, causing the entire right arm to stall. Obito Uchiha let out a muffled grunt, his body shaking slightly inside the chest cavity, anger flashing in his eyes.
He forced Dojutsu Power and Chakra to surge, rapidly repairing the damaged joint. "So weak," Mirror Obito said, his voice passing clearly through Susanoo with cold mockery. "A complete Mangekyo Sharingan is powerful, but you cannot control it, just like you cannot control your own fate."
"Shut up!" Obito Uchiha roared in fury, driving his Susanoo forward. His left arm whipped down with a shriek that tore the air, smashing toward the waist of the opposing Susanoo.