Three blurs dashed through the sticky and hot bog of the Rice Country. Just like the rest of the ninja traveling through the location, the trio of Konoha kunoichi had to stick their feet to the moist and mossy bark to travel through the local swamps, whereas the marshlands required them to dash across the water's surface. Sticking to muck required the same amount of chakra, though traveling atop it was slower than running on water, so one ended up wasting more effort in the end.
The rightmost one, a woman in a black bodysuit and a yellow suit of armor that plenty of ninja clans distinguished in war wore at the time, colored bright yellow, stopped in her place and confronted the burly man of spiky white hair and a thick beard. The settler was no ordinary local. He had entirely replaced his right arm with an excavator-like construction of gearwork and wood. It may have been fancier than most houses in Rice Country in terms of the complexity and materials used.
The other two blurs scattered to the sides, hiding in the leafage and preparing themselves to attack the local if needed. The First Hokage was adamant about his ninja causing less collateral damage than the bandits they sought to save the surrounding lands from. That may have been the only reason this farmer with an excavator's hand was still alive.
"You're trespassing on my land. Leave," the man looked the clean-shaven woman straight in the eye. Despite his impressive size and bulk, the slenderly built yellow kunoichi compensated for what she lacked in physicality in her height. In the end, the rice farmer only needed to look down about fifteen degrees, which was an improvement based on his normal encounters with other people.
"Mind your fucking tongue, hick!" the buzz-cut ninja clad in yellow cursed back at the local with all the elegance of a delinquent.
"Hikari!" a loud scolding came from the trees as a blur of red made the two figures dead-locked at one another turn their eyes and acknowledge the appearance of a red-haired woman in a white dress and a black Konohagakure symbol sewn into her elegant yet not fitting the scenery outfit. "We're not here to pick a fight. Mind your own manners."
A third shape, a woman in a fuchsia-colored dogi and black hakama revealed herself by landing on the ground too since both of her other teammates abandoned stealth and speak plainly to this Rice Country local.
"You two are perpetual trouble, that you are," the black-haired woman with a katana strapped to her side scratched the back of her head, making a bit of a mess of her slick and orderly ponytail.
"We are looking for Konoha ninja. A cell of three. Two young women and a man. They've been sent here on a mission to exterminate a rogue ninja group, though they haven't contacted the village since. They were a talented bunch so it shouldn't have taken them long to finish the task," the redhead took over the speaking duties from her crude comrade.
"I've only met one Konoha ninja. Eyes of red. Killed one that tried to kill her," the settler said.
"You bastard, you killed a…" the shaved kunoichi began tightening the bands around her wrists, ready to throw down before the redhead raised her arm in objection and stepped in between her trigger-happy teammate and the settler.
"Eyes of red? That must be the Sharingan. Could it be that you've saved Uchiha Hakari?" the kunoichi in the white dress inquired.
"We're lucky, that we are. She's the most skilled and valuable of her cell, that she is," the woman in fuchsia dogi nodded to herself a few times, thinking aloud.
"Don't get too excited. If this hick saved Hakari, why hasn't she come home? Even if she was injured, no wounds take six entire months to heal," the kunoichi in yellow armor reared her teeth. Flames of aggression sparked in her eyes as her fists itched to punish the settler of transgressions that existed only in her mind.
"If you're friends of Hakari's, I'll take you to see her. She's in my cabin. If she wants to see you, that's fine, but if she doesn't–you'll have to leave," the rice farmer with an excavator-arm warned the three kunoichi.
"If she refuses to come with us, that would make her a nukenin, that it would," the black-haired kunoichi with a sheathed sword by her side, stated. "In that case, we might need to capture her and bring her in."
"Only if she chooses to," the rice farmer closed his eyes in acceptance of such an outcome. He extended his hand, reaching for the nearest tree and hooking himself to it with his unusual arm. In a strong yank, he threw himself over the leafage, soaring through the upper layers while using his prosthetic arm to correct his trajectory with unmatched skill that only years of practice and peerless knowledge of the terrain can grant.
Despite their advantage in combat training and experience, the knowledge of the swamplands and the unusual method of transportation put the man at a similar stage of swiftness that made the three women have to work to keep up with his pace.
"He knows the pace of a ninja. The exact pace of someone of our skill level…" the kunoichi in the white dress observed.
"That traitorous bitch must've taught him all of Konoha's secrets. Let's fry her on sight!" the armored kunoichi made a mean grimace while pounding her gauntlet fist into the open palm.
"Let's at least meet her and talk to her first," the redhead calmed her comrade down once again.
"While hotheaded, Hikari's observation is sound, that it is," the swordswoman added.
The peculiar rice farmer stopped speeding through the place in front of a wooden hut that had seen plenty of maintenance and even had an instantly recognizable woman's touch to it. It was polished, clean, and decorated. Flowers and herbs grew in planned and maintained rows around the house. Clean laundry flapped in the wind outside the house.
"Wife, these ninja came to see you!" the settler raised his voice by tensing up his chest. The peculiarities of this sentence made the three kunoichi blow out their eyes and drop their jaws.
"Wife!?" they all bawled out at the same time.
"Right, right…" Hakari's voice came from further inside the house. Something hefty landed on the wooden boards as the sudden increase of weight pressing down on them could've been felt all the way in the entryway. "I've been wondering if someone would come but after six months… Honestly…" a black-haired woman with black eyes appeared from the neighboring room wearing a linen gown, a leathery vest, and a white apron. A noticeable lump around her belly made the three direct their stunned stares directly at it.
"This… This has gotten much too complicated, that it has…" the swordswoman, in a fuchsia dogi, pointed out the obvious with a husky voice crushed by the weight of these circumstances.
"I say we cut out the baby, pull both of their eyes out, and call it a mission complete…" the shaved kunoichi in yellow armor crossed her arms. Hakari's eyes twitched upon hearing the drastic overreaction, though the self-defeating tone of the tall woman defused the direct threat to her life she referenced.
"We apologize it took Lord First half a year to send a party but with all the rogue ninja groups trying to establish organizations like the ninja villages, as if they've gotten ideas from us, we have never stretched our resources any thinner. You are one of his most promising and capable ninja. If he ever found out about what we saw here, he'd die of a broken heart, it's no secret. Please help us understand, Hakari-san…" the kunoichi in a white dress with a leaf insignia stepped up with a mediating look on her face. "Lord First trusted your team to get the job done for an improper amount of time. To send a party after you, that'd have meant to admit your defeat and to seek for your body and… I'm sure you understand how little Lord First wanted that."
"Things got out of hand here, I'll admit," Hakari stroked her floor-reaching black hair in her hands. "Nohan here saved my life and, as I recovered from my injuries, I've become awe-struck by his free-spirited attitude. It's the exact life that I want all people around the world to live and enjoy. I guess… I just let myself get washed away by all that countryside freedom and… Well, you aren't the only ones dealing with hairy consequences."
"I've offered her the means to do away with the child, but your village life has deep-seated roots in her. She's become adamant to live as my wife and raise this kid," Nohan pointed out, stroking his sinewy neck with his ordinary human hand.
"So, you two aren't actually married? That's a relief…" the redhead sighed in comfort. "Well, no way to shave these consequences, so to speak."
"Shave? Is that a bad joke?" Hikari's eyes twitched.
"Despite these circumstances, our hands are tied, that they are," the swordswoman nodded to herself. "The First's orders forbid us to kill settlers without a just cause, besides, Konoha ninja are due for paternity leave, anyway."
"I don't intend on shaking my previous duties off," Hakari said. "Before I proclaimed myself Nohan's wife, I swore Lord First to serve as a Konoha ninja. Once I'm ready and fit for service, I intend to return to active duty."
"The kid will stay here until he is free to choose for himself," Nohan stated in a firm tone that all but sealed that he was ready to fight for it.
"That seems to be the way of the household…" Hakari reluctantly agreed. "I'd much rather bring both of them to Konoha with me, but…"
"Well… I suppose there's nothing else to be done about it…" the kunoichi in the white dress clapped her hands and bowed to the pair. "We'll find out how to relay this situation to Lord First without breaking his heart too bad. Maybe we'll just tell him you're still recovering…"
"What are these implications…?" Hakari squinted with suspicion.
"Just remember that you're married through your statement alone for now. This means jack-squat. Hurry up and poop this baby out so you can come back to work," Hikari cast a judgmental stare at her comrade while the three turned to leave the cabin.
"Poop the baby? Just… How do you think babies are made?" the redhead asked her ally with a muzzled voice as the three left the premises and took off to return to Konoha with news of Hakari's survival. Undoubtedly, that would brighten Lord First's day so much that relaying the rest of the details wouldn't be worth the hassle.
A hand burst forth from the bog, splashing the muck in all directions. It was greying and wrinkled, though what its owner lacked in youth and the lively color of his skin he compensated for in a fancy black robe. The elderly man was cloaked from feet to head while his cloak transitioned into a smooth ax-shaped headdress through which only his ghastly face could've been seen. Grabbing hold of the thick mud underneath and struggling to wriggle out, the robed ninja surfaced with a high-pitched howl. He couldn't help himself after inhaling some air for the first time in a while, even if said air was more tainted than one would've hoped after over twenty minutes of underground burrowing.
The cloaked ninja looked around while wiping muck off his face and cloak. While someone observing the scene from an outsider's perspective would've counted on the man's greyish skin improving once he wiped the wet dirt off it, truth be told, it only lightened in the shade of grey. Even more so, with his facial features fully visible and free from filth, his white, bloodshot eyes and rotten teeth became more apparent. After an uncomfortable while, his eyes fixed on a massive cottony cocoon stuck to a nearby abandoned cabin.
As if gliding through the mud, the emerged ninja approached the cocoon and examined it with his white eyes. A handful of lumps appeared on the cocoon's sides while the stare of the emerged man sharpened with focus. Before too long, a frail arm inside the sleeve of a baggy feminine robe burst out alongside a swarm of scurrying crawlies that was stuck somewhere in between a scorpion and a cockroach. More than a handful of the creepies still darted about the woman's twitching arm. With a bit of effort, a crone of fading red hair that had turned to a duller shade of pink with silver streaks across it emerged from within and landed on the floor covered in sticky, lime-colored snot.
"So… You've come," the woman squeaked before transitioning into a witchy giggle. "I knew you'd be too curious to pass on this opportunity."
"I've had my doubts," the man said in a husky and dragging voice. "I've never used Impure World Resurrection Jutsu this way. I've raised plenty of footmen to fight for the cause and then wither away into oblivion again, but I've never intended to bring someone back long-term. Your offer sounded delusional, though the fact you were so interested in it made this opportunity too alluring. Who is it we intend to find here?"
"A member, I hope. Possibly even leader material…" the bug-covered crone cackled. She enjoyed teasing her fellow member with uncertainty.
"Leader? That is the part that raises the most doubts. I don't like raising the dead without numbing their personality to submit to my complete control. To suggest that it should go the other way around sounds just…" the cloaked ninja scratched his withered chin with gaunt fingers that had a talon-length fingernail with teeth-sized chomps taken out of each one in different places.
"If you intend on tampering with his personality, may as well not bother at all," the crone waved her hand with a suddenly soured expression.
"Both of us went through a great deal of trouble to meet here in secrecy. Please sell me on why I should abandon all my rules and protocols for raising the dead for this man… Or woman…?" the ninja with the self-proclaimed ability to raise the dead said. "What exactly makes this person a fit for our group?"
"The Parabrahma accepts the rejected, the disavowed, and the discarded. Who is more rejected and abandoned than the illegitimate son of the Second Hokage?" the old woman burst into laughter, spraying slobber and heaps of the snot that was drying up over her clothes and becoming absorbed into her wrinkly skin. "Just imagine the chip on that shoulder… The grand things we could accomplish with a drive like that…"
"Where did you hear this information from? I've spent arduous years of my life researching perspective bodies to retrieve and raise for our cause and you drop a bombshell like this… Does the leader know about this alleged son of the Hokage?" questions began pouring out the wrinkled mouth of the crone's companion defined by dry and broken lips and brown teeth spilling with black slobber.
"I didn't hear this information from anywhere," the woman shrugged with a clearly faked grimace of innocence. "Probably because it was very unlikely to have ever been recorded. The only reason I know of this is that the gang I've previously aligned with both injured the Second in her youth and killed her paramour and son right here."
"If you've already slain the boy, why bother?" it was a curious sight when the white-eyed ninja of a grey face rolled his eyes for nothing could be made of them, except the bloody vessels stretching across their edges became more pronounced as they changed position with the rolling eye movement.
"You can say that just about any corpse, can't you?" the old woman shrugged. "Besides, the boy and his father were both untrained. Just rice farmers living their life as they saw fit. And yet I am no longer with my previous group, am I? If someone with that amount of untapped potential received a modicum of formal training, if they experienced a fraction of the care we put into our members and supporters, no goal of ours would be off the table."
"It's true that with a figure like that under our wing, we could blackmail Konohagakure into submission. We could plant our roots in the village. We've had agents working for us before but this is something else entirely…" the bringer of the dead pondered to himself before nodding in hesitant agreement. "Even if this goes wrong, and the boy starts rampaging on us, he's just a rice farmer, anyway. Though if we can truly get him on our side… The potential is more than worth the nonexistent risk."
"See? I knew you, of all of us, would understand…" the old woman leaned into the tree with a squinted, sassy look.
"I take it you've assembled the tribute?" the cloaked shinobi looked at his companion with high expectations. The hag smacked the thrashed wooden cabin, forcing a handful of other cocoons sticking around it to pop from the resonating pressure and drop a handful of marinaded corpses down on the floor. Just like with the woman, black and long-legged arthropods and worms began crawling from their orifices.
"Some species of my insects necessary for this jutsu incubate inside dead bodies placed inside these cocoons. I've figured that since their larvae would've devoured some of their innards, I might need more bodies to satisfy your requirements," the woman explained the overachievement.
The cloaked shinobi clapped his hands together. His white eyes bulged out from exertion as lively red cracks littered the visible patches of his skin. The lifeless corpses became engulfed in malicious violet chakra before their skin cracked and began folding like paper. In a blink, their bodies became just a clutter of endless paper tags that began shuffling around the location with various blood-drawn sealing glyphs decorating them. The whirling papers all laid even against the ground before becoming one with it. A terrifying rumble struck the entire Rice Country district.
"Incredible… Just how did you survive this man when he was alive?" the necromancer's eyes quivered in terror as he could already sense the surfacing dread that was too late to stop now.
"You know me, I've always got an Insect Clone on standby. He must've thought he had me, an Insect Clone doesn't look all too different from the other kinds of ninja arts I use…" the hag pushed a handful of her rose-colored hair out of the way of her direct line of sight. A masculine bawl filled the bog and echoed to every reach of the country.
An arm reached from behind the whisperer of corpses, wrapping around the man's body and dragging him down into the thickness of the bog. Just like the roar of a dread reborn clamored earlier, a helpless shriek of a man who spent his life using the dead as his tools filled the forest. Even the sassy crone stared at the bubbling burst of blood booming from the bog with a terrified look.
This was the first time that a resurrected corpse has killed the user of Impure World Resurrection. What exactly would happen to such a corpse now? How would one go about trying to stop it? The jutsu could no longer be called off. The unfortunate rice farmer's son has risen from the grave seemingly forever.
Suddenly the chilly breeze that was the only thing to distract from the moist heatwave of the equator zone vanished. Air became stuffy. The crone staggered forward and turned around to witness a stout man in plain farmer's clothes with light fractions to his face and black eyes. Before she could even think of running away, the revenant grabbed hold of her ankle and split her legs upside down. The monster just wouldn't stop pulling there, however. He pulled and pulled on. Until a fountain of spraying salad-green blood and a burst of pulsing white pustules blew out from the demolished body of the old hag.
The resurrected rice farmer stared down at the ruined insectoid anatomy of the body he just mangled. Something nostalgic must've come up from the time before his death. It was just a momentary distraction before action returned to the revenant and he turned around, descending deeper into the bog with each step until he thoroughly submerged himself under the muck.
"Damn…" an identical copy of the advanced Insect Clone cursed to herself, peeking through the silky white cocoon with just one eye from afar. "Now we'll need another summoner for the dead. Still, it was fun though."