"Through the darkest of days,

You were always by my side,

No matter what I would say you would abide,

Constantly I let my selfishness take over me,

And caused you a life full of grief,"

-Regret Message, Kuraiinu

"Wake up."

I sat up, rubbing sleep out of my eyes, freezing when I looked up. A gray cube hovered in the air above me. It was the size of my hand.

There were no clouds, no rain, and no sky. It was an endless pool of black above me.

I stood. Cubes made up the ground and filled the sky, all different sizes and shapes. There were gaps between the floor cubes that dropped down into a black abyss.

Zetsu stood on a cube next to mine, a hand on its hip. It was the voice I heard before.

I wasn't afraid.

I was alone.

I pointed a kunai at him. "Where am I?"

It brought me here and I didn't even notice.

"Our friend wanted to talk to you alone," Zetsu answered. He looked behind me.

I couldn't rely on Mamoru-sensei's strength. I didn't have Yahiko or Naga with me. I couldn't surprise them, like I did with the girl from Root.

So, what?

I ignored the tight feeling in my chest and turned to face the masked man.

I'm strong on my own. It doesn't matter if they trapped me here or I lose. I'll keep getting back up anyway.

The masked man sat upside-down on a cube, chin in his palm. "This is my dimension," he answered. "A complete and separate reality from the world you know. It was an ability gifted to me by your former incarnation, a power beyond the comprehension of those who abide by the rules of chakra."

I took a deep breath. "If I wanted to leave, would you let me?"

"You misunderstand me. I didn't bring you here to harm you. Your friends—they don't understand," he said. "The Rinnegan activates in times of great turmoil. This war between shinobi, the growing inequality between larger, richer nations, and small, poor nations. The suffering caused by corruption and greed—that is why it awakened here."

I lowered my head, letting my hair fall in my face.

I'll take you both down with me.

"The Sage of Six Paths first used the Rinnegan to make a world of peace, but the cycle of war only began again after he died. As his reincarnation, you can succeed where he failed. Only you can create a world of eternal peace," the masked man continued. "As your disciple, I only want to fulfill the calling you entrusted me with long ago."

I hummed at that. "Who's the Sage of Six Paths?"

"You were the founder of ninshu, a precursor to what you know as chakra. You were the creator of the shinobi world and the first jinchūriki of the Ten-Tails. You were a god."

I released a long breath and sat. "I've never heard of him," I mused.

The masked man regarded me. "When we met before your friends were aware of who your past self was. I wonder why they kept you in the dark."

I only smiled. "What's the Ten-Tails?"

He re-propped his chin on his hand. "Nine extremely powerful chakra creatures exist in your world. Humans call them tailed beasts. They were divided amongst the biggest nations and sealed into people to control them, called jinchūriki. When united in one body, they become the Ten-Tails. With this power you were unstoppable. You are the only being capable of bringing them together again. Only you can become the Ten-Tails jinchūriki."

I absently scraped my name into the cube-floor with the kunai. "Is the Rinnegan still a dojutsu if it doesn't run in the family?"

The masked man paused.

"I expected... more of a reaction," Zetsu said.

I stopped. "The Sage of Six Paths wasn't a god, because gods don't die."

"He was the closest to a god this world has ever known," the masked man countered.

I pushed myself up. "Doesn't matter, because I don't want to be one," I said. "If I had the power of the Ten-Tails, I'd make Yahiko its jinchūriki."

"You can't. You're the only one who can handle that amount of power without being driven to madness—"

"Then I don't want it."

The masked man said nothing.

"As for peace..." I trailed off, staring up at the inky void. "You're too late."

I already decided to be selfish for peace.

I didn't want people to suffer, but I didn't need to believe in a world of peace to help them.

The masked man waited for me to elaborate, but I didn't.

"Besides, I didn't forget," I said. "Every time I look at you, I think of you, stabbing my brother in the back. Maybe you thought I forgot, or you could pretend what I saw didn't happen. But it did."

"If you explained what exactly it was that you saw I could—"

"No," I said, tilting my head his way. "I don't owe you anything, masked man. You're not my disciple, and I'll never ever trust you."

The masked man paused, then stood. "You may not trust me, but I meant what I said before. My only goal is to help you ascend to the level of power you were at before. Whether you want to be seen as a god or not, the power hidden behind your eyes would be useful to protect your friends, would it not?"

I narrowed my eyes.

The masked man jumped down and landed on the cube next to mine. He extended his hand over the gap. "The only way I can send you back is through physical contact," he said at my look.

I frowned but reached out and grasped his hand.

"One day, you'll need that power," the masked man said. The air distorted in front of his eye, and my hand began to twist, pulled into the vortex. "I'll wait in the cave we met at the same time each day until you see the truth."

I drew back, but it was too late.

I was sucked into the dark and spat out on the other side. I heard the rush of rain, and then pain jolted up my knees as I landed on concrete.

Arms wrapped around me before the disorientation faded.

"Is he still here?" Yahiko asked.

Naga buried his face in my shoulder. "I thought he..." he trailed off and squeezed me. "And I couldn't get there in time."

"They're both gone," Namekuji answered. He nudged my arm until I lifted it and let him under.

"What did he want?" Yahiko asked. He wasn't wearing his cloak and his eyes were sleepy.

"He wanted to talk," I murmured.

海

Naga stood in the middle of the pond.

His eyes were gold and blue lines adorned his face. Tentacles poked through his hair. The upper part of them were white, the lower part blue.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, holding up my right arm. I pushed chakra to my hand as Naga bent his knees.

And then he moved. Water splashed up where he'd been.

He appeared in front of me and my eyes widened. I didn't have time to think.

I was eye-level with his shoulder when he reached out and chakra burst from my palm, an inch away from his stomach.

Sand exploded around him.

Naga grunted, crossing his arms in front of his face, but he didn't move. His cloak whipped around him. The pond water behind him was gouged up and rained down on the other side of the bank, but he stayed where he was, feet planted on the ground.

I only stopped when the scar on my wrist started to burn. I stared at him.

Naga dropped his hands and stumbled back. He grimaced, pressing a hand to his stomach.

"How—?"

"You use too much chakra when you do that," Naga said. "I sensed what you were going to do before you did it."

I dropped my hand. "I want to learn Sage Mode."

Naga shook his head, hiding his smile. "I can't teach you. You know that."

"But I couldn't move you at all."

"That's because you wasted more chakra than you used."

"No, it's not."

His laugh was wheezy. "Part of it. Not being able to move me doesn't mean you didn't hurt me. You have a lot of power, Oka."

I looked at my palm, flexing my fingers. "Power doesn't matter if I can't touch you. You could've dodged it."

He coughed. "Not if I'm going to help you learn to control it. I needed to feel how your chakra changed as you used it."

"Do you think Lady Chiyoko would teach me if I asked again?"

Naga took my hand and the twin blue stripes running down wrist receded back to his elbow. His thumb glowed green as he traced it over my scar and the burning faded. "This is something you need to work on, too. You don't know your limits, so you always overdo it."

I poked his shoulder with my other hand. "Don't ignore me."

"If I can control my chakra enough to use medical ninjutsu, you can limit the chakra you use too," Naga said, ignoring my second poke. "You're just too impatient to try."

"I never needed to," I mused. "Using too much for an earth jutsu means I go down deeper than I mean to. Or I make my wall too hard and too tall. It's never hurt me."

"It will now," Naga said, letting go.

He took a few steps back. "Show me that pull jutsu you used with Mamoru-sensei."

.

.

.

My hand shook.

The twine blurred, warping into copies of itself that swirled around in my vision. Only a small circle of water at the bottom was left of the pond.

I panted, squinting up at Naga as he blurrily walked across the sand towards me.

I scraped at the bottom of my chakra, trying to gather wisps of it, but I couldn't.

I dropped to my knees and Naga knelt in front of me.

"I'm at my limit for Sage Mode too," he admitted.

The marks and tentacles were gone. His hair stuck to his forehead.

"I can keep going," I said. I pushed a hand against my knee and struggled to stand.

Naga shook his head. "Maybe you can, but I can't. I'll turn into a slug if I don't stop soon."

I fell back into the sand. "Taijutsu," I murmured, fighting the urge to close my eyes.

"After you rest."

I tried to shake my head, but my body didn't respond. "I can..." I trailed off.

My eyes rolled up and I fell against him.

ガラス

I ducked into a square building behind Naga and Yahiko.

A small candle sat on a long table in the middle, dripping wax on a metal saucer. The table was made of earth.

Water drained in from the outside and pooled beneath my feet.

Half a dozen people were on the opposite side of the table. Most were huddled against the back wall in ragged, baggy clothes, but two stood closer, watching us with careful eyes.

They were civilians.

Naga stepped out of a puddle and shook water out of his sandals. I traced a hand against the wall. It was smooth. Unnaturally so.

"The shinobi who made this isn't here," Namekuji said from my shoulder.

"How do you know?" I murmured.

"They were sloppy and left chakra in the walls," he answered. "The people behind you might as well not have any."

I looked at him. "We came here to help them."

"Doesn't mean I can't say they have less chakra combined than a beetle."

I wiped my smile away with my sleeve.

"You wanted to see us?" Yahiko asked, stepping up to the table.

We were dressed as civilians, but his nagamaki was sheathed at his back, under his shirt.

"We want to offer our help in taking down Hanzo," a man standing opposite of him spoke. He looked older than Mamoru-sensei and had a scruffy brown beard.

The woman beside him looked sharply at him.

Neither saw it when Yahiko looked away.

She leaned her elbows on the table, blond hair tied into a braid. "Some of us want to help you," she said shortly. "Some just want out of this hellhole and your group is the only one who ever cared about us. Hanzo's gotten worse. Not even the shinobi know where he is or what he's doing anymore."

"We want you to help us get to the Land of Rain," she continued, glancing at the people huddled behind her. "Once you've gotten rid of Hanzo, some of them'll come back. Some won't. Either way, we have a better chance out there than staying here and hoping Hanzo remembers to throw us his scraps every now and then."

The man crossed his arms. "Most of us only want him gone, no matter how it's done. My brother, Noriko, took you to the Land of Rain. I found his boat just offshore when he didn't come back. It was destroyed. Shinobi told me Sunagakure got to him like I'm stupid. But after what Hanzo did to you—" He shook his head.

"Point is, no civilian is going to ally with him now. Your fight against Hanzo—it's our fight too. Only problem is we don't know where Hanzo is, and there are those who won't get involved unless you rally them to."

Yahiko's fists clenched.

If they got involved, shinobi would kill them all.

Maybe he thought they had the advantage in numbers, maybe he thought shinobi were tired from the war and weak from hunger, but all I could think about was a field of white flowers, and how it would only take one shinobi to burn them all.

It took three shinobi in Suisai to take down a palace full of civilians. And it was barely three, because I didn't help much.

"You know how you can help us?" I said, and felt the attention of the room on me. "Stay alive. We won't win if everyone here is dead."

"We appreciate the offer, but she's right," Naga said. "Too many people have died already. Don't add to that."

The woman glared at the man. "That's why we all need to leave as soon as possible—"

"Oka," Naga interrupted, eyes flashing to the ceiling. "Make a wall above them."

It took a quarter of a second to process what he meant. I darted forward, leapt over the table, and slammed both hands against the back wall.

The roof cracked and burst apart.

An earth wall shot out above me, unwavering as rubble thudded down on top of it. The whole room shook. People ducked and shouted and cursed.

The candle went out.

I only saw shapes in the dark. "Where'd Naga and Yahiko go?"

"Outside," Namekuji answered. "The asshole sent a lot of shinobi."

The room shook again, but the wall didn't give.

A figure next to me shuffled forward, hands grasping at the dark, searching for someone but too scared to call for them. I heard whispers and quiet sobbing.

I looked up when I felt someone else's chakra in my wall. The earth twisted, shuddering like a living thing as they tried to manipulate it into something else. "The wall is going to break," I said.

The whispers became louder, full of terror, and I glanced at the shapes around me. I wondered if they still wanted to fight against shinobi.

The wall crumbled to dirt, torn up inside by the chakras fighting to control it. I held up a hand to shield my face when it rained down. I saw the sky, felt the cold sting of the rain, and saw a shinobi standing on a corner of the wall.

The dirt was still falling when Namekuji shot a stream of acid at him.

He just barely started to look down when it struck his chest, hissing and steaming as it ate through his armor and melted skin. He let out a strangled cry, hands pulling at his vest. He fell backwards.

The woman had tucked herself under the table with some of the others. The bearded man crouched over a baby who had skin the color of coffee beans.

Others clutched each other and squeezed.

Coffee beans?

It didn't matter. I jumped on top of the wall.

Shinobi circled Yahiko and Naga, armed with short swords and kunai. Yahiko's eyes were narrowed.

Naga looked frustrated as he clashed kunai with a shinobi wearing a rebreather. "You're supposed to protect people!"

"They're civilians," the shinobi spat back. As if that made them less than people.

Anger burned in my chest.

You don't deserve to be a shinobi.

"Kill him," I said suddenly. Namekuji's acid was faster than me.

Namekuji looked at me and I'd never know if he would've, because Yahiko got there first.

The shinobi jerked forward, choking, blood soaking the blade tip sticking out of his front. The look in Yahiko's eyes belonged to something other, a creature that crawled out of a deep, dark pit.

Naga stepped back in surprise.

Yahiko took the shinobi by the shoulder, pulled the blade out, then kicked him down.

The nagamaki was clean again in seconds, the blood slipping off in the rain.

The other shinobi had been wary, staying out of range of Yahiko's blade. But it was like his attack lit a match. A shinobi charged at him and Naga, others following at her heels.

Snake. Ram. Boar. Horse. Bird. Naga clapped his hands and thrust them out. A powerful gust of wind swept out in front of him, stopping the shinobi or throwing them back.

At his back, Yahiko used a water wave to keep the shinobi away, but they couldn't do it forever. Another shinobi answered Yahiko with wind, sweeping the water off in another direction, and others took advantage of the opening.

He had to stop the jutsu to swipe at a shinobi that lunged at him and another appeared at his open side, kunai raised.

I tackled him.

I heard his surprised shout as he tumbled forward, and then a gurgle when I stabbed a kunai in his neck. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Yahiko pulled me up, shoulder and neck splattered with blood, and I saw the body at his feet.

A dozen more shinobi charged us. None wore purple vests. They didn't look that old, but the war had taken most of the older shinobi. I wondered, briefly, how many were Root. But that didn't matter, either.

I took a deep breath and flicked the blood off my kunai.

I can't die until the bastard is dead.

And it was chaos.

Yahiko's sword moved in a dance of dismembered limbs and blood. A cut bled into his eye. A kunai found a home in his leg.

Naga made the bird sign and shot air bullets at them. He tensed but didn't look away when the near invisible projectiles tore holes in arms and chests and stomachs, as shinobi tumbled and fell and cried out. Blood splattered the ground. His fingers shook.

A shinobi jumped back, dodging Yahiko's wide swing, and one of his feet slipped on a watery puddle of Namekuji's acid. He fell back into it as his foot buckled and screamed.

Another dodged right and I shoved a kunai in his back.

I heard Naga yell in rage at them, at himself, and then heard his kunai slice through skin behind me.

I slammed my hands against the ground, blocking a water coil with a wall. Namekuji, on the ground between us, shot acid at the user.

It smelled like sour and rot.

I bit a shinobi that grabbed my cloak and didn't think about the splash of blood on my face as I cut her open. I made another wall to block a water bullet and didn't think about how slick my kunai felt when I stood up. I didn't think about the bodies around us.

Either I fought and tore apart and killed, or I died.

Yahiko took half a step back, red gushing from a stab wound at his side, but that was all the ground he gave. The shinobi who stabbed him dodged acid and Yahiko lunged. Before she could turn his blade was through her chest.

Pain raced down my left arm. I didn't look but focused on the woman in front of me.

I threw my right hand up and pushed her back hard, barely hearing her startled yell. I poured chakra into the push, tearing up earth, repelling jutsu, shoving away anyone unlucky enough to be in front of me—

The back of my head burst into sudden agony. My vision went black. I blinked the spots away and I was on the ground, cheek pressed against the mud. My head throbbed so bad it was hard to think. The sound of a blade shearing through a vest was muted, distant.

My hands pushed against the mud, but my body felt too heavy, suddenly. I threw a kunai at the shinobi behind me, but I didn't hear it connect.

I didn't see his foot until he kicked me. I gagged, pain shivering through my stomach. The kick sent me rolling and tumbling across the mud until I was covered in it. I shuddered and threw up.

"Oka!" it was a faint, muffled, terrified shout. I watched Namekuji distract the shinobi in front of Naga, saw him turn his back on her to run towards me.

I managed to get my hands under me. I couldn't shout a warning before a block of earth hit his shoulder and knocked him off his feet.

I watched a woman, surrounded by pools of pink and severed limbs, drag herself away from Yahiko by her elbow. She kept her stomach in with her other hand.

I spit and coughed and wondered how many of them I killed. How much had we thinned the ranks of the village we wanted to save because we wanted to live?

Mud crunched as my attacker came closer. Turning my head hurt, but I looked up at him. And I saw why he hadn't just killed me.

He didn't walk fast, not out of overconfidence, but in reluctance. He'd punched me so hard I almost passed out, but his eyes were unsure. He was wearing a rebreather, but I saw wrinkles around his eyes.

Blood matted my hair to the back of my head. My arms shook.

Was it because I was 'small' to him that he hesitated? Or maybe, maybe, it was because he didn't agree with this. Hanzo the Bastard sent them to kill us, but how many of them wanted this? Did being a shinobi mean following orders even if they felt wrong?

Maybe he thought I'd stay down after the first hit. Would that make it easier for him to kill me?

I laughed. I pushed myself up onto my knees and struggled onto my feet because this village was Hell and I was a black-hearted demon. I had too many people to kill to die. I tilted my head his way, even as the dark spots in my vision came back. Because I wouldn't show him the same mercy.

I couldn't see when he punched me again. I was just suddenly in the mud, the throbbing worse, the sounds around me nearly completely gone.

The woman who tried to drag herself away was curled up on her side, dead.

I flipped over, elbows in the mud. I couldn't see for a few seconds again, my head as weightless as cotton. He was standing over me when the spots cleared, frustrated that I wouldn't stay down. My blood was on his knuckles.

I laughed in his face, barely aware of it. He looked unsettled.

It's too late, I thought at him. I don't forgive anymore.

I raised my hand.

Years ago, Yahiko might've taken this hesitation, this unease, and turned it against Hanzo the Bastard.

My eyes started to close on their own when I pushed, hearing a distant grunt, and then I tried something I'd never done before. I pulled, but didn't stop pushing him away, chakra rapidly draining out of me.

The pathway down my arm screamed, but the pain was dull compared to the way my head felt. The skin around my scar started to redden, burning, and the two opposing forces ripped his body apart. It was lucky I couldn't see, lucky I couldn't hear, but I felt his blood drip on my cloak.

I fell back against the mud, asleep for seconds or minutes before my eyes opened again. My right hand was numb. I rolled over and almost fell.

Yahiko was his knees, panting, nagamaki stuck deep in the mud. He held the handle with both hands to keep himself upright. His side was still bleeding.

Naga pushed himself away from a body, his front covered in blood. He threw his bloody kunai away, forcing himself up and away from them. He clutched his right shoulder with his left hand, hand glowing green. His eyes went wide when he saw me.

Namekuji slithered close to me. He was the cleanest, but only because blood would only stick to him if he wanted it to. His tentacles looked me up and down. "What happened to you?"

I used my hand as a pillow and managed a small smile at him.

Namekuji glanced behind me suddenly, and I saw Yahiko and Naga looking too. I twisted my body, blinking stars away. A water dragon was forming in the sky above the building we left the civilians in, bigger than any I'd ever seen.

Two shinobi stood in the shadow of the wall, outside, completely focused on it.

And I thought that maybe we were never the targets at all. The bearded man wanted to help us fight Hanzo the Bastard, but how did he and the rest find others who agreed? Who did they ask? How many knew that some of them wanted to defect?

Yahiko tried to stand and collapsed with a hiss, bending his head as he pressed a hand against his wound. Naga made it halfway to me before his ankle twisted, giving out, and he cried out as he fell.

Did we bring this fight to them, or did they bring it to us?

I watched the dragon's head grow until it overshadowed the building.

They were being punished for wanting better, punished for coming to us even though they couldn't fight back.

Naga had to heal his leg. Namekuji's acid wouldn't reach far enough. I dug my elbows in the mud and pushed myself up, shaking, pain radiating from my middle.

I couldn't let the bastard kill them. I couldn't. He would win. All the shinobi I killed, all this pain, it would be for nothing if I let them die.

I wobbled as I stood, vaguely hearing Naga yell something at me, but I didn't look away from the water dragon. If it didn't crush them, it would drown them.

Everything hurts.

I couldn't sit by and watch again. I ran, stumbled, and fell.

I grit my teeth and pushed myself back up. The dragon's red, beady eyes turned to stare down at them. I leapt with too much chakra, caught the top of the wall with my left hand, feet slamming against the side hard enough to hurt.

My feet slipped off when my vision went hazy. Jagged edges of the wall cut open my fingers. I winced and dragged myself up, just enough to look in.

Rubble blocked the exit. The bearded man and a few others were pulling uselessly at blocks of earth. The blond woman was at the back of the room, boosting others up to try and climb out. A few had already given up, sitting on the floor, dull-eyed.

The water dragon drew back, twisting in the air high above me before arcing back down, mouth open wide. I stared up at it and wondered if I climbed up just to watch them die.

I couldn't push the dragon away. I still couldn't feel my right arm much. I couldn't help them clear the doorway because I'd used up all my chakra.

An older woman looked away from me, quieting a screaming baby, disappointed, but not surprised. Used to being burned. Used to only finding help in herself.

It reminded me of Suisai. I thought of what the masked man said about the power hidden behind my eyes.

I reached up for the dragon as it surged down, my left hand clipping a corner of its mouth. The force of it should've broken my arm or knocked me off the wall, but instead my fingers sunk into the water like it was still. The dragon's face began to malform, the water making it up attracted to my palm.

Ice-cold chakra was pulled into my hand, making the entire dragon waver. Water sheared off from the main body and splashed down on the civilians, but the rest of it turned into water chakra and was absorbed down my arm.

Too much, too much, too much. The chakra filled my pathways and overflowed. I felt pinpricks of pain down my hand, then they became needles all over my body. I shuddered, head dipping down. It felt like I was made of ice.

When I opened my eyes I was falling backwards off the wall. The water dragon was gone, like it was never there at all.

What do I do with all this chakra?

My eyes shut again.

Hands on my shoulder, not shaking, but wanting me to wake up. I squinted up at Naga. I was laying on a soft, squishy body. Namekuji. "Give me the chakra, Oka," Naga said again. "I'll turn it into nature energy."

Dark blue lines shadowed his eyes. I held up my left hand and he took it. And I gave him the chakra.

My head lolled to the side and I saw Yahiko. One of the dragon shinobi was dead. The other was charred at Yahiko's feet.

Yahiko clutched his chest suddenly, gasping, the nagamaki slipping from his grip. He bent over, groaning, and vomitted.

I watched him, the needle-like feeling starting to fade, and fainted.

A/N: 海 - Sea, ガラス - Glass

Obito having a full-proof plan for world domination ruined by a devil child.

In Axis' canon, Hanzo killed the salamander whose poison sac is in his body. It's lore for later.

Yahiko - 16-17

Nagato - 15-16