Just do it.
Callisto gritted her teeth, glaring at her reflection in the mirror.
Gaunt cheeks.
Sunken eyes.
Frail hair.
The pitiful woman staring back at her was unrecognizable from the bright girl she used to be.
She sucked in a breath and raised the knife to her throat.
Her knuckles whitened as she guided the blade into the narrow gap between the rusted collar and her chin.
The woman in the mirror trembled as a thin line of blood trickled downward.
I can't do it.
She exhaled sharply as the knife slipped from her fingers.
I am a Kunoichi of Konohagakure.
A daughter of the Yamanaka Clan.
This is not how I die.
Her expression hardened as she picked the blade back up.
The Bastard had tried his best to take everything from her.
But he failed.
Not for a lack of trying—but because there was one thing his kind could never understand.
Faith.
The Will of Fire burned within her.
Her village would save her.
No matter what, her family would not abandon her.
Her hands steadied as the knife traced across her cheek.
Once, her beauty had been a blessing. It had earned her attention and privileges. And with them—better training, better tools.
A scoff escaped her.
Without hesitation, she dragged the blade across her face, carving deep lines into her flesh.
The elder kunoichi had been right.
Beauty was a curse.
"What are you doing?"
A deep voice echoed from behind her.
He's back.
A tight knot coiled in her stomach as she spun, gripping the knife.
The Bastard stood in the doorway.
"Again?" he groaned. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a proper healer out here?"
He stepped inside.
"There's nothing but sand for miles."
The land of wind.
Escape was pointless.
The Suna shinobi would catch her before she reached the border.
She bit down on her tongue.
That's if the desert doesn't kill me first.
Without chakra, she was no better than a civilian.
The Bastard removed his mask, revealing a sunburned face—ugly in every way that mattered.
He shot her a sidelong glance as he set it down on the desk.
"Why do you keep doing this anyway?" he asked, his voice dripping with a perverse kind of amusement. "You should know better by now."
His armor came off next.
"I don't care about your beauty," he added. "My prideful little Kunoichi."
Liar.
Her jaw tightened.
"One day," she breathed, her voice hoarse. "I will kill you."
He stilled. Then turned toward her fully.
"Looks like I've been too lenient," he mused. "I'll have to break you in again."
Callisto raised the knife.
"I am a genin of Konohagakure," she snarled. "You will never break me."
He vanished.
Then he was in front of her—leaping over the bed.
Her vision went black.
Glass bit into her back as she came to.
"Enough!" the Bastard roared, spit striking her face. "Forget about that cursed village already!"
His hand clamped around her throat.
"You're mine," he whispered. "You belong to me."
Blood dripped from her face as she glared up at him.
"Never."
"What was that?" he snapped, his other hand sliding down her body.
Pain lanced through her skull.
"I said—" he leaned closer, voice low and vicious, "what was that?"
The Rinnegan rippled across Callisto's eyes.
My chakra surged as I seized Koruzan's arms.
"If only I had known," I said quietly, staring down at the hand clawing at my chest. "I would have made you suffer."
A choked scream ripped from his throat as I invoked the Human Path.
"As only I can."
With familiar ease, I tore Koruzan's soul free.
My vision flashed purple as Callisto's memory fractured around me.
Acid seared at the back of my mouth as my eyes snapped open.
I rolled onto my side, grabbing the bucket beside the bed—and vomited.
"Another nightmare," I muttered, wiping my mouth with a napkin from the nightstand.
"All I ask for is one peaceful night."
I sat at the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the mirror across the room.
My body was drenched in sweat.
"Get it together, Nagato," I whispered. "It's already been a week."
A low whine dragged my attention to the side.
Inu stared up at me from his smaller bed, golden eyes wide and attentive.
"I'm fine," I said. "It was just a dream."
A hesitant knock echoed through my room.
"Nagato," Kuvar called. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes," I answered quickly, glancing at the calendar at the back of the door.
Three more weeks.
"Ah, that's… good," he said, awkwardly. "Yesterday, you mentioned you wanted to—"
"I remember," I cut in. "Go on downstairs. I'll be there in a minute."
My shoulders slumped as Kuvar's footsteps grew distant.
I've put this off long enough.
———————-
The living room table was covered in scrolls and paper as I drew a meticulous half circle.
Fuinjutsu was a precise science, and my calligraphy was still in its infancy.
Kuvar watched me in silence.
By the time he finally gathered the courage to speak, I had already finished—and discarded—another failed alarm seal.
It resisted me far more than the storage seal ever had.
"So…" he said. "What did you want to talk about?"
I halted my work and set the brush aside.
Finally.
He still hadn't internalized that he was free.
Free people didn't wait to be addressed before they spoke.
"You've been with us for a week now," I said. "Have you changed your mind yet?"
"I haven't."
Fool.
"I don't understand you," I said, tilting my head. "Do you not grasp what I'm offering?"
Kuvar shifted on the couch, his eyes drifting away before returning to mine.
"I do," he muttered. "I used to dream of becoming a shinobi—of using chakra."
"Then why refuse?" I asked. "You've seen what my training has done for Konan and Yahiko."
I leaned forward.
"I can make you strong. Powerful."
Kuvar shook his head.
"I appreciate the offer—I really do. But you'd be wasting your time on me. I'm not like them."
His fingers brushed against his throat.
"Zara was strong, and I saw what that power turned her into."
His lips pressed into a thin line.
"I want no part in that. I am—and never will be—a shinobi."
Unshakable conviction burned in his leaf-colored eyes. It suited him far better than the timid expression he usually wore.
"I think you're making a mistake," I said, leaning back in my chair," but I'll respect your decision."
Kuvar's shoulders relaxed as he released a quiet breath.
"Thank you."
I drummed my fingers against the armrest.
"Don't thank me yet," I said. "If you don't want to fight, you'll need to find another way to earn your stay."
"I already have."
"… You have?"
He cleared his throat, his face flushing.
"I've been talking with Konan, and I think I know how best to support you."
It still surprised me how well those two got along.
"And how's that?"
His spine straightened.
"I can cook. Clean. Wash your clothes. Handle everything you don't have time for. I don't mind doing manual work—I'm used to it."
"That so?" I hummed, propping my chin against my fist. "I suppose that's acceptable."
His presence alone was valuable.
It helped to have someone who still thought like a civilian around us.
Chakra had a way of warping how people saw the world.
I considered him for a moment.
"Tell me about yourself," I said. "What did your family do? What was your home like?"
"I… are you sure?" he asked. "I doubt there's anything about me that could interest someone like—"
"Yes. I'm sure."
Kuvar nodded slowly.
"Alright then," he said. "My family… we used to be merchants—but we became farmers after moving away from the capital. For half a decade, we worked the fields alongside the other villagers."
His gaze grew distant.
"The Earth Nation is mountainous. Barren. Every plot of land needs be constantly cultivated just to keep it livable."
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"If you miss even a single day, all your effort washes away—and the land turns back to stone. My father said it's because there's too much earth chakra in the ground."
I watched him quietly.
I had never seen him speak with such passion.
"The elders used to say that things would be different if shinobi worked the land," he scoffed. "Though I doubt they ever would—even if they weren't too busy killing each other and starting wars."
My brows furrowed as I considered his words.
If chakra had been used the way it was meant to, this world could have been a paradise.
I browsed through the scrolls on the table and pulled out a map. Like all the others, not a single city was marked on it. All it showed was that the Elemental Nations were divided into different countries.
"I am curious about your homeland," I said.
The map unfurled before us.
"The capital. Your village."
My finger traced lines across the parchment.
The land of Rain—my home—was tiny compared to the giants surrounding it.
"Where are they? What do they look like?"
"They…" Kuvar hesitated.
Then he leaned forward and took my brush.
"The capital is here," he said, marking a point near the center of the massive landmass. "It's a beautiful city—built of stone—sprawling across an entire mountain valley."
His gaze softened.
"Some buildings extend into the mountains themselves. And there's a clear blue river running through the city… It's the most beautiful place in the world."
His voice lowered as he glanced at me.
"There are even legends that it was built with the help of the Sage of Six Paths himself."
It probably was.
My gaze drifted toward he window.
For months I had explored this country—and never once had I seen anything like what he described.
"My village was here," Kuvar continued, marking another point—this one in the southeast.
"It was… quiet. Near the peak of the Cacumen Mountains. Isolated from the rest of the world. We didn't get many visitors."
His hand trembled.
"So when Zara showed up—"
"It's not your fault," I said. "She was a kunoichi. There is nothing you could've done."
Kuvar pulled his hand back.
"They're all dead," he breathed. "She killed everyone… used to joke about it."
"Death is not the end. You know that better than most."
As did I.
"Your friends and family are in the Pure Lands," I continued, my voice softening. "Smiling down at you with joy—because you survived. Despite everything, she failed to break you."
Kuvar sucked in a breath.
"You…" Tears gathered in his eyes. "What you've done for me—can you do it again?"
"I cannot."
My expression hardened.
"My power is not without cost," I added. "You do not understand what you're asking."
Kuvar released a shaky breath.
"You're right," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
Silence settled between us as he wiped his tears on his sleeve.
"Nagato," he said softly. "That operation you're planning… Are you sure you can win?"
He tightened his grip around his knees.
"You're shinobi—but you're also… young." His voice lowered. "Konan said you've had the Rinnegan for less than a year... the Agents you'll be facing—"
"Kuvar," I cut in. "What do you think power is?"
He stilled.
"It…" he hesitated, searching for the right words. "It is poison—corrupting everything it touches.
Only those unworthy of it.
"I disagree," I said. "I believe power is a mantle."
"…A mantel?"
"Yes."
My chair creaked as I rose to my feet.
"The stronger you are, the more durable it becomes." My voice lifted as I finally assembled the thoughts I had pondered for so long into words. "You can form it into a shield. Transform it into an impenetrable wall."
Kuvar's eyes were wide with focus as he stepped forward to join me.
"But not all walls are shields. Some are cages."
He stiffened.
"Zara was not worthy of her mantle—not worthy of chakra."
Most weren't.
I turned toward him.
"Do you understand?"
"I… think so," he responded, watching the people outside.
A father and daughter hurried through the rain.
The man bent low, holding his umbrella over the girl's head.
"I don't know how the battle will end," I admitted. "But I do know this—somewhere out there, there is someone who needs my help."
My lips curved slightly as the pair reached their home.
"And I will make sure my mantle is durable enough to shield them."
—————-
My hands blurred as I formed hand seals.
"Earth Release: Stone Rebirth!"
The jagged ground smoothed as my chakra pulsed through the earth.
Stone Rebirth—an Earth Release technique I had extracted from Koruzan's soul.
One of five.
Three of them were the Konoha Academy basics.
Only one was useful.
I could finally walk through the village without hair obstructing half my face. As far as the civilians were concerned, my eyes were as dark as the earth beneath their feet.
My breath slowed as I shifted into the first kata of the Hatono style.
I would loathe the man for as long as I breathed, but that did not change the fact that he had completely dominated me in Taijutsu.
I lashed out with a punch, flowing seamlessly into a flurry of kicks.
Yahiko was a genius when it came to Taijutsu, absorbing everything I taught him at a preternatural pace.
Just as Konan took to ninjutsu like a fish to water.
Still, there was a reason why I was the teacher.
The ground cracked as I brought my foot down like an axe.
Taijutsu was best practiced with a partner—but building muscle memory was still essential.
I exhaled slowly, glancing around the rocky field.
The Human Path was dangerous.
At its full potential, every jutsu in the world would be no different than ripe fruit. Waiting to be plucked from unsuspecting souls.
Such power was difficult to resist.
My brows furrowed as the hairs on my arms rose.
I snapped my head to the side.
A paper lance sliced past me, grazing my hair.
She's improving.
"Good try," I shouted, clapping slowly, "but not good enough."
I turned to my right.
"Practice for a hundred years and you might manage to give me a haircut."
The rock a few dozen yards away unraveled into a cloud of smoke.
"You cheated!" Konan cried. "You totally used the Mind's Eye!"
"I didn't. Don't be a sore looser."
She grimaced—then sighed.
"… Sorry."
"It's fine."
A small smirk tugging at my lips.
"You know what comes next, don't you?"
A long suffering groan escaped her.
"I don't like Taijutsu!"
"Well, that's too bad," I chuckled, stepping toward her. "Because I see a lot of it in your future—the very near future."
Puffs of smoke burst from Konan's clothes as paper spilled into the air and rose to hover around her.
She stuck out her tongue.
"You'll have to catch me first!"
A chuckle escaped me as she dashed away.
"I always do."