Devil Child
I am the punishment of God. If you had not committed great sin, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you
The Leaf Village officially closes its gates minutes after the order is given. Platoons of ANBU scour the Land of Fire and the news of the incident quickly spreads throughout the village and eventually finds its way past the borders.
The Mist Village, commonly referred to as the Blood Mist is a nation made up of an archipelago; one large island surrounded by a few smaller ones, typically home to giant crabs, sea turtles and the occasional soon to be dead fugitive. The main and largest island is the home of a majority of the nation's villagers, shinobi and, of course, the Mizukage.
Weeks before the Leaf incident, the Island nation found itself locked in a civil war. Hundreds of bodies littered the street as Mist shinobi fought Mist shinobi and the place lived up its infamous moniker as blood floats in the air and forms pools on the watery ground. The clashing of steel, the screams of the combatants and the constant rhythm of wet and frantic footsteps, the smell of blood heavy and enveloping. A boy no older than thirteen, his body concealed by the sky's darkness, watches the bloodshed from a rooftop garden, taking some small delight as Kiri-nin after Kiri-nin is killed and orders are shouted over chaotic noise. He senses a familiar chakra and smiles.
"I suppose I should thank you." The boy says. "I don't think I would've made it this far without your help. Consider your debt paid. As long as we stay on good terms you have my loyalty."
There's a short silence as the fighting dies down, replaced by the heavy rain that grows stronger and louder. A bolt of lightning cracks across the sky and the chakra signature disappears. The boy climbs to the edge of the roof and jumps off, landing feet first and breaking the stone ground. He makes his way down the road, observing the dead and dying, the bloody mist dyeing his pale skin red as he passes through it. He approaches a group of shinobi, all of them dressed in black plate armor, signifying their rebellious allegiance. The crowd parts as the boy passes through, reforming as he stops in front of an injured man of juvenile appearance despite his age, laying on the ground, covered in blood and wheezing heavily as he holds his left hand over a bleeding wound in his abdomen.
The boy smirks, a glimmer of sadistic joy in his eyes. "Do you remember me?"
The dying man looks in the eyes, his purple eyes widening in fear as his breathing picks up as his heart beats harder, trying to maintain blood flow.
"This is your own fault. I hope you realize that, even on your deathbed, with your pride as a shinobi on the line…you never were the type to admit you made a mistake. Never the type to reward loyalty or reciprocate love. I can accept that my father's death was an accident…" He stops himself, briefly looking away. "No, what am I saying? It's never an accident, not with you." He moves a bit closer and the man tries to slide himself backwards but his efforts are in vain as the boy plants a foot on his wound. The man cries out in pain as the boy stares him in the eyes, apathetic to his suffering.
"Just how many did you kill, hm? Let's count. The Yuki clan." He presses harder, eliciting a groan. "The Hoshigaki." He pushes down again, holding up two fingers and adding another for every clan he names. "The Uzumaki, the few of them that lived here. The Hozuki, you were a big fan of sending them on suicide missions. And last but not least, the Ōni." The boy grabs him by the hair, forcing him up as he leans in close. "I watched as you slaughtered my family and all those years ago, I was too weak to do anything, just a child in a world of monsters." He draws a short blade with his other hand, pressing it to his neck. "I'll see you in hell, Yagura."
A single slash decapitates him and his body falls to the ground, neck cauterized by the still red hot blade sizzling in the heavy rain. The boy stands, sheathing the blade and turning to face the crowd, clutching Yagura's head, his face twisted into a grimace.
"Bury our dead and leave the rest to rot. Two of you, come with me. We've got plenty to do."