Hidden Rain Village - Front Gate
Okara Fumio, a seasoned ninja of the Hidden Rain, in his own humble opinion, was undoubtedly one of the most powerful shinobi in his village.
A typical workday for Fumio revolved around guarding the gates of Amegakure, ever vigilant against any potential threats. Diligently, he reported any discrepancies or suspicious activities to the village's leader, ensuring the safety of his homeland. It was a job that required time, power, and most importantly, patience.
Pitter-patter.
Pitter-patter.
Pitter-patter.
But his patience was running thin.
"This rain is just waaaayyy too much – I mean, so far there is nothing here and I really wanna go home."
Okara agreed with that sentiment.
"Definitely. I too despise this rain and even with this large cloak and hat protecting us... anyway, I'm going off track. We have orders from the leader to stay extra vigilant today."
Pitter-patter.
Pitter-patter.
Pitter-patter.
"Hmm, I wonder..."
"What?"
"Is there something that our Lord fears? Could there be someone out there too much for even him to handle? I mean, look at this," the man gestured to his surroundings. Okara identified him as the youngest patrol guard inducted into his squad. "This is the tightest security I've ever seen in my life, and that's saying something."
"He, Lord Pain, is the closest thing to a God we have in our time. There is absolutely no one – no one who could dare challenge him, let alone win. He is rumored to have killed Hanzo, and that man was in a different league of his own. I would know – I was alive at that time. Most who lived in our time would agree with me, and it would be better for you to listen to your elders."
"What are you, an old man? You were barely out of your diapers when Konoha invaded our nation. Don't patronize me with that grandpa talk."
Okara wanted to explosively sigh. Those two never got along well and heated arguments were the absolute last thing he needed.
"You – how dare you?! You weren't even alive, and you have the gall to speak about age?!"
"Hey, my concerns are valid! Every great leader, no matter how powerful he or she was, has fallen. The third and first Hokages were known as the 'God of Shinobi' – but both of them died. Our Lord can't be so different! He can't be immortal and all-powerful! No one has."
"How disrespectful! Have you no faith in the power of the Hidden Rain's Leader? This is the same man who sent fear into the hearts of the shinobi of the Five Great Nations!"
Okara could feel the last dregs of his patience dissipate into nothingness.
"Under the guise of a dead man!"
"You insolent brat—!"
"Enough!" Okara's voice boomed with burning ferocity. The two men went silent, their faces darkening with shame. "You are men sent here to guard the entrance to our nation, and you are squabbling like children?! Is this the image our nation portrays to the rest of the world?"
"No, sir."
"No, sir."
"Then stop acting like boys or you shall be relieved of your—!"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Something shifted.
Just for a second.
The world felt... strange. Not visibly, not physically. The rain still fell in its familiar rhythm—pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter—but there was a flicker in his periphery. A blur, like movement behind fogged glass.
"Kai."
Nothing.
The guards beside him looked as they had before. Standing at attention. Nervous. One idly tapped the pommel of his weapon, while the other adjusted his rain cloak.
"…Did anyone see that?" Okara asked, his voice low.
The younger of the two guards gave him a side-eye. "See what, sir?"
"I thought I saw... someone... black cloak, red eyes... I think?"
The patrolman looked at him, puzzled. "Sir?"
Okara exhaled slowly. "You didn't see… anything? Or feel anything strange just now?"
It was the older who responded, looking slightly put out.
"Negative, sir. Rain. Mud. Misery. The usual - that's about it."
Okara's gaze narrowed. He couldn't shake the feeling. There was something—he knew it.
He bit his thumb, snapped his fingers, and tried it again.
"Kai."
A pulse of chakra surged from within him, rippling outwards.
Nothing happened.
No distortion. No snap in reality. No change in scenery. Nothing suggested a genjutsu had been cast. And yet the paranoia lingered, curled cold in the pit of his stomach like a coiled serpent. He could've sworn, without a shadow of doubt, that not a second ago, he had seen something.
He scanned the area again, his chakra flaring as an experienced sensor ninja.
Still nothing.
And yet... something felt wrong.
He turned to his men once more, who now seemed vaguely uneasy watching him mutter and scan the border of Ame with such intensity.
"Sir? Are you alright?"
Okara stared at them a second longer before nodding slowly. "Yes. Just... keep your eyes open. Today feels strange."
"Aye, sir."
With that, they returned to their posts, assuming standard formation, watching the misty horizon. Their chatter faded. The tension lifted, if only slightly.
But Okara couldn't quite let go of the feeling. He couldn't explain it and couldn't prove anything had happened if the indications of his men were any proof. There were no tracks, not a shred of chakra residue, and no trace.
But something had happened. He was sure of it.
Pitter-patter.
Pitter-patter.
Pitter-patter.
Okara dearly wished the men would start arguing again. At least the silence wouldn't be this oppressive.
_____________________________________________________________________
Hidden Rain Village - Residence of the Angel and her God
Papers flew past him in the thousands, fluttering and flying until they amassed together, forming the shape of a human.
"Have you gathered any information on Madara's whereabouts?"
His most trusted comrade shook her head negatively. "Unfortunately, no. I've tried to contact him with his ring, but there does not seem to be a response - rather there is nothing. It was as if it had never existed in the first place. The most likely scenario is that they were destroyed."
That gave Nagato a pause.
The rings weren't simple trinkets. They were powerful devices that could be used to create apparitions capable of producing enough power to partially extract a tailed beast. Each Akatsuki member had been entrusted with one, inscribed with unique kanji, irreplaceable and heavy with purpose. Pain's instructions had been straightforward: the rings were to be protected at all costs. Losing one invited dire consequences, and truthfully, the rings were not fragile either; they were forged with power, etched with jutsu formulas that could survive even high-level ninjutsu.
To lose one was not only shameful, it was catastrophic. And Madara of all people knew that.
Which made this revelation... deeply unsettling.
Madara and Zetsu were careful. Meticulous. The kind of partners who planned three moves for every conversation, let alone missions. Madara wouldn't let the ring be destroyed unless something had forced it. And if it had been forcibly removed from the network or obliterated, it meant something had gone very, very wrong.
Of course, there remained the possibility that he had gone dark, blocked contact, and dampened the chakra flow. But that made no sense either. Despite his secrecy, there had always been a mutual understanding between them—an agreement not to infringe on each other's autonomy, but to share critical information when needed. A blackout of this scale... was not in character.
"I see... that is not good news," Pain commented, internally grimacing. "And what of Zetsu?"
"No sign of him either."
Worse. Much worse news.
As much as Nagato detested the man who cloaked himself under the guise of Uchiha Madara, he would not lie—the man was an invaluable member of the Akatsuki who provided intel that one would normally be unobtainable and extremely hard to come across. His knowledge, his access, his manipulation of underground networks, and forbidden knowledge... all of it made him one of the organization's most irreplaceable assets. Zetsu, too, with his ability to traverse continents undetected and relay intelligence from across the nations.
The most likely scenario, Nagato thought at first, was that the two had left on a long-range reconnaissance mission to gather intel on how to reel Sasuke in rather than fight him. It would fit with their pattern. And yet...
Nagato's mind spun, reluctant but relentless.
Could they have been killed?
The idea was unthinkable. Madara? Killed? It was a ridiculous notion. This was the man who passed through solid matter like mist. Who had stared down Bijuu without blinking. Who manipulated entire countries as if they were pieces on a shogi board. He was not someone who simply disappeared, not without consequences, as the First Hokage found out all those years ago.
He would've expected, by now, for the man to appear in front of him, as he always did, to give a slight warning at the very least. To inform Pain of his agenda, of his latest scheme, of how he was going to deal with the fallout of the two Uchiha brothers. Or even discuss the loss of Kakuzu and Hidan, members of the Akatsuki, members of their joint organization.
And yet, here they were.
No contact.
No ring.
No trace.
Nagato's jaw tensed.
"…And all of this," he murmured aloud, "begins because of a single child."
Konan blinked. "What?"
He opened his eyes, calm but piercing. "Sasuke Uchiha."
Konan arched a brow. "You're referring to Sasuke Uchiha. You believe he could be responsible for eliminating them? According to Madara's own reports, the boy's chakra was... potent, yes, but to compare him to the masked man - to surpass him at his age? Forgive me for questioning you, Nagato, but I do find that highly improbable."
Nagato's silence stretched for a moment before he replied.
"It does sound farfetched, no doubt," he freely admitted. The Uchiha relic? Eliminated by a mere boy, albeit quite the powerhouse in his own right. It sounded like a joke. "But improbability does not equal impossibility."
He leaned forward slightly, the mechanical frame that supported his emaciated body hissing faintly.
"Do I believe a child, a sixteen-year-old, even one with the Sharingan, defeated both Zetsu and the masked man by himself? No. But I do believe Sasuke is involved. Directly or indirectly. And we would be fools to dismiss the possibility that he's grown beyond the scope of our expectations."
Konan's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You suspect Konoha has silently allied with him?"
"Perhaps - the Uchiha still have ties to that village, no matter how much their living members have tried to sever it. Or perhaps someone new. A third party we've yet to identify, someone who operated in secret, just as we had done for the past decade. But whoever it is... it would seem they are hunting us - the Akatsuki - as a group, one by one. The fact that they are knowledgeable about our strength and our power - yet they still are more than willing to move against us?"
His voice dropped slightly.
"That alone makes them dangerous."
He leaned back.
Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe he was looking into it too much. He could live with that, however.
What he could not live with was being... blindsided. Again, just as it had happened all those years ago.
"It is certainly possible, more than likely that they are alive, but it is in our blood to prepare for the least favorable scenario. I will not risk it – not since his death."
Yahiko's demise had been a glaring example of being unprepared. He had fallen victim to a betrayal no one in the Akatsuki had foreseen. Nagato would never allow such a mistake to happen again. It was beneath someone who called himself a God.
A sigh tore through Nagato's pained form.
"One by one, the strength of our organization is being stripped away before we even initiate the final phase of our objective. I always knew losses would come. I planned for it, but not this soon. Not before we even launch," Pain lamented, mourning the loss of a large contingent of their organization. "Does anyone know of their deaths?"
"No. Kakuzu and Hidan remain marked in the Bingo Books as 'Alive'."
"Good. Jiraiya and Orochimaru's snooping has caused us great difficulties in trying to maintain Akatsuki's secrecy. It would be best if they do not know of—"
And then he felt it.
Like a thunderclap in a tranquil sky, he felt it—an unmistakable shift in his rain, a disturbance in the delicate balance of chakra that he used for detecting any threats in his nation. A presence, so vast, so potent, so powerful, it sent shivers coursing down his spine and his heart pounding against his chest as if seeking an escape.
The air seemed to thicken, and he became acutely aware of his own heavy breathing, each inhalation and exhalation resounding in his ears like the beat of a war drum.
"—gato? Nagato?! Can you hear me?!"
"Konan," he rasped out, his eyes still as wide as saucers.
What is... that?
"Nagato, answer me!" she snapped uncharacteristically, her tone shifting from concern to command. "You just stopped speaking - what is it? What did you sense?"
"...My rain," he finally rasped, eyes wide and unblinking. "My rain has detected a presence... someone incredibly powerful."
"Powerful?" Konan echoed, not with doubt, but unease. "How powerful?"
Powerful was the least charitable description he could give.
It was monstrous.
It was a chakra so dense it warped the very air, pressing against his senses like a physical weight. His fingers twitched involuntarily, his breath coming in shallow, measured bursts as if his body instinctively sought to minimize its own presence in the face of this... thing.
STOP!
He gritted his teeth. A tremor rippled through his back, but he crushed it. No. He would not tremble. Not in front of Konan. Not before anyone. Not before that being.
"I..." he began, voice low, controlled, forced into calmness. "I do not know who it is. But they are approaching the North Gate. And if this chakra is any indication... this is no ordinary shinobi and he is but one - a single individual. Whoever they are - it is as if they want to be felt. He is… declaring himself."
Konan's paper wings rustled faintly, though there was no wind. "That's arrogance, or a trap."
"Or both."
She nodded. "Do you believe it's the one responsible for Madara and Zetsu?"
Nagato's brows furrowed. "That is certainly possible."
Silence. Then—
"You're trembling," she said flatly.
Nagato's eyes narrowed at her, but she didn't say it to taunt him. Only to name what he refused to acknowledge. It was true. His fingers still twitched, and his breathing wasn't back to normal. But he would not let her see what it meant.
"I am not," he replied, a bit too sharply.
Konan didn't challenge it, but he could feel the skepticism in her body language. Then a tender look crossed her face.
"You don't have to prove anything to me," she said softly.
Nagato went still.
That voice. That concern. It was a rare luxury these days, tenderness untainted by manipulation or politics. So much of their lives had become a calculation: a war for peace, a cycle of sacrifice.
He closed his eyes.
And forced down that feeling as he always did.
He had to protect his nation, his village, his people. There was no room for this.
I am a GOD.
I will NOT show weakness!
When he opened them again, his gaze had hardened, all traces of hesitation buried beneath ice.
"I want you to intercept him."
Konan tilted her head. "Am I to engage?"
"No," Nagato said quickly, firmly. "Absolutely not. Whoever this is... they are far beyond the level of any shinobi I've encountered since Hanzo. You are not to provoke him. You are not to test him. You are to lead him to me. Nothing more."
She studied his face, her expression unreadable. "You believe he'll follow?"
"He will," Nagato replied, confident now. "He did not come this far to hide. He came to speak. Or to fight. Either way, it will be me he wants."
Then Nagato added, slower this time, more worried:
"Konan... be cautious. If he so much as twitches toward violence, disengage immediately. Your life is not a variable I am willing to wager."
For a moment, her lips parted as if she would object. But she closed them again, nodded once, and turned, her body already shifting into paper.
The chill of uncertainty settled in around him, a stark reminder of his vulnerability in the face of the unforeseen. He abhorred this feeling, the sudden sense of being exposed and outmatched. But he knew he had a duty to fulfill, a destiny to uphold. Whoever this powerful intruder was, Sasuke or not, no matter their strength, he pledged to himself that he would annihilate any evidence of their existence.
He would meet this threat head-on. He would unravel its secrets. And he would crush whatever lay behind it with divine certainty.
For anything less… would be unworthy of the title he carried—
The title of a God.