AN: School's really picking up at the moment: finals are barreling towards me like a runaway train filled with explosive meth-heads, and there're a couple essays hanging around my neck. I probably won't be updating within the next couple weeks unless I'm struck mad by the muse.
Which is a damn shame, 'cause I can't wait to get to what's next. I've been plotting this for months, and the anticipation is killing me.
That said, I hope you enjoy the chapter. I know I did.
Interlude 2
The rain stops.
In the Amegakure, the Village Hidden in the Rain, the rain almost never stops.
The ceaseless downpour is a constant companion. It is the civilians' comfort, and the shinobi's shield.
The rain almost never stops… but for two reasons.
The first is if an enemy manages to fully infiltrate the village. This has happened rather recently: many of the ninja still remember the shock they felt as the rain petered out, and the sun shined down on the metallic spires of the village for the first time in months.
But while it had been a shock, the rain's cessation had also brought with it a sense of grim satisfaction.
If the rain was stopping, then that meant that Pain had taken a personal interest in the infiltrator.
And that meant that the infiltrator wouldn't be an infiltrator much longer: but instead, a statistic.
Indeed, the downpour had started back up about an hour later, and the village had backed down from its state of alert, confident in the return of its god.
But now, the rain is stopping again.
Which means that either another doomed shinobi has entered the village…
Or that god wants to speak to the people he is protecting.
Of course, Pain never addresses the ninja of Amegakure personally. Many of them are secretly grateful for this: the man who had saved the Village Hidden in the Rain may have been their protector, but that doesn't make him any less frightening.
After all, the presence of a god is far more terrifying than any man's can be.
Which was why when thousands upon thousands of delicate origami cranes burst from the tallest tower of Amegakure, sharp in the newly revealed sunlight, the people of the village are neither surprised nor alarmed.
Most of them are, in fact, gleeful. Even if it is only a fleeting contact, any sort of interaction with the Angel of Amegakure is considered a blessing, certain to bring good luck in the dreary days to come.
And the Angel contacting what seemed to be, no what is the whole of the village at the same time… that is a blessing indeed.
In the streets, on overhanging causeways, on balconies, in some canals, the people of Amegakure crowd together, ninja and civilian alike waiting in eager anticipation for the Angel's message.
The cranes descend on the village, each seeking out a single person. Not everyone gets a bird of their own: those who haven't been directly gifted press towards those who have. Even if some feel a lingering bitterness or contrition -for surely they've done something wrong- for not receiving a crane, they are still desperate to know god's message.
There is a moment of anticipation: the whole village falls completely silent.
And then, by some invisible signal, every single piece of origami unfolds simultaneously.
The older members of the village, the ones who have received the Angel's words before, stare in the shock. The younger ones stare at them.
This is no ordinary message.
The Angel's handwriting is an elegant, flowing script. Letters mold into one another, but the whole thing always manages to be completely, beautifully comprehensible.
The Angel is businesslike, but never brusque.
The Angel never sounds disappointed, but nevertheless manages to shame the people of Amegakure into believing they have done something wrong.
But these origami, laid flat and shaking in people's hands, do not contain any of that.
The handwriting is unmistakably different. Mechanical, almost stenciled: not a single space is wasted, not a single letter given too much time or even slightly out of place.
And the contents…
All over Amegakure, pressed by the impatient and the curious, those who have received cranes clear their throats and speak, their voices quivering.
"People of Amegakure," they say, unable to believe what they are reading.
"For the last fifteen years, you have all lived in my village, leading a peaceful existence. A peace bought by my will, and secured for you."
There is a hush as the entirety of Amegakure suddenly comprehend exactly what is in its hands.
This letter is not from the Angel.
This letter is from Pain.
"For this peace, I am grateful."
Many stop at this point for a moment, choking on the word that comes next.
Their god is grateful: grateful for their safety.
"However."
And now many villagers bring themselves back under control, their emotions wrestled into submission by the finality of the lone line.
"This peace must soon come to an end."
At this, there is a substantial uproar.
Not of fear (though of course, many can't help but feel a chill race down their spine at the prospect of Amegakure's damp tranquility coming to an end).
Of zeal.
A zeal that only grows as the letter goes on, its readers growing more and more enthused.
"I have been working. My ambition, with which I intend to finally share Amegakure's peace with the rest of the Nations, has neared completion."
There is a collective intake of breath.
"I require a mere three things to complete this ambition. Two will be obtained in time: the last is the most crucial, and the least attainable.
And as such, I do not have the luxury of waiting, as I have all these years.
This final thing, I must draw to Amegakure.
Its name is Naruto Uzumaki, and within him lies the key to this world's salvation."
The ninja of Amegakure that survived Hanzō's reign stand at less than two hundred. Of these, only thirty-seven know the name "Uzumaki".
The fact that their god intends to bring one of them to the village leaves several of them with bad tastes in their mouths.
None of these ninja are reading the letter, however, and so the message from Amegakure's god continues without waiting for them to overcome their past bitterness.
"I will bring Uzumaki here."
No one doubts the letter's words. If a god wants something done, it is done.
That is the power of his will.
"For a single night, Amegakure will be witness to a battle. A battle the likes of which it has never seen before, and never will after.
When this battle is done, when the rain has begun once more… Uzumaki will be mine."
And despite the fact that it is their god claiming the man, several people shiver.
"You, the people of Amegakure, must not be here when this battle begins."
Confusion instantly reigns.
"I have always protected this village. But it is possible…" and here, the words actually ceased their mechanical nature for a moment, leaving some readers staring at the paper incredulously.
Their god doubts?
"No, it is likely. Likely that this battle will damage the very village I have sworn to protect.
This is no obstacle: Amegakure has been rebuilt before, and it shall be rebuilt again.
But you, the people of Amegakure, cannot be rebuilt. Cannot be replaced.
And so, I tell you today: within two days, your home will become a site of incredible destruction. Please, do not regret this: from this destruction, hope, hope for the entire world, for humanity itself, will be born."
People look around. And indeed, they all feel the same thing.
A lingering sadness that their home will likely be destroyed…
And an unmistakable vindication that their faith is finally going to be rewarded.
"For these two days, my Angel will move you to a shelter I have created outside of the walls of the village.
And when you return, we, and the entirety of the Elemental Nations, shall finally know peace."
One or two readers break down, relieved tears momentarily recreating the rain, and are forced to pass the letter to others with shaking hands, despising themselves for their weakness.
"Follow the Angel. She will lead you to your salvation.
Shinobi of Amegakure: ensure that the people of this village remain safe while I am occupied. You are their sole protector now."
A thousand jaws firm, and two-thousand hands tremble in anxiety and anticipation.
"Now, go. And know that when this is over, you will be the first to see my new world."
And as each speaker finishes each letter, the paper folds itself into a crane once more, and slowly, ever so slowly, begins to depart from the village.
The people, in turn, begin their mad scramble to secure everything of value and follow their Angel to safety.
The exodus from Amegakure has begun.
On the highest balcony of the highest tower in Amegakure, a pale man watches the controlled chaos.
Of course, he can't actually see it. But he transcended such limited senses long ago. The eternal rain of the village tells him everything he needs to know about his people's evacuation.
The upper torso of a woman with blue hair and sharp amber eyes floats next to him, pieces of paper flaking off of her. She shows no outward signs of fatigue, but the pale man can tell she is tired. They are simply too familiar to each other for it to be otherwise.
She is speaking to him. He draws his senses away from the rain for a moment to fully listen to her.
"Do you really think that Uzumaki will threaten the village?"
He doesn't respond immediately. His thoughts have been devoted to this very question for the past week
When he finally does answer, he speaks with absolute confidence, tempered by undeniable wariness.
"Uzumaki alone may not be much a threat. I could neutralize him without incident."
The woman sighs. "But he won't be alone."
The man nods. "Precisely. No matter what Madara says, the boy will not be arriving alone. The bonds I saw were too strong for that." He pauses. "And that does not account for the Kyuubi."
"You really think it may be that strong?"
"It couldn't be anything but. Each Bijuu has been more powerful than the one before: it stands to reason that the Kyuubi will be truly formidable."
The man doesn't draw himself up: he's already been standing perfectly, unnaturally straight. But his voice grows cold.
"I will defeat it. But I may have to push myself, and the village would suffer in the crossfire. This is the safest course of action."
"Nagato…"
Nagato Uzumaki shakes his head. "Don't worry, Konan. Just rest: in two days, we will decide the future of the world. You must be ready."
The woman bites her lip, but remained silent.
The rain is the only sound in the world until the man speaks once more.
"It's all coming to a head," he mutters, turning away from the village that has elevated him to godhood.
"Soon, all this will end."