Buddha settled deeper into his chair, the flickering light casting long shadows over his face. His voice grew somber, and the weight of his words filled the room as he spoke of the dark history that had entwined their clans.
"Our clan, the Naguyoto, has always been a people of the shadows," he began. "Our powers, our techniques… they were never meant to be understood by outsiders. We practiced jutsu that made others uncomfortable—manipulating life, form, fate. They feared us, mistrusted us. Even in our own village of Oushizawa, we were seen as necessary evils. The people respected our strength, but behind closed doors, they called us monsters." Buddha's gaze shifted to Yami and Rei, as if gauging their reaction.
"Our isolation bred resentment, and in time, that resentment festered. Rumors spread, whispering that we were unnatural, cursed. As our people grew more isolated, those in the neighboring villages looked to powerful leaders for guidance. And no leaders were more influential, or more feared, than Totanda Shiyume and Gotanga Kurozai." Buddha's tone hardened as he said their names, and his sharp gaze seemed to bore into Yami, as though the centuries-old betrayal lived fresh in his mind.
"Totanda Shiyume," Buddha continued, his voice simmering with old anger, "was a man of ruthless strength and ambition, a force unmatched by anyone in Nakamaki. He had spent years waging war against the Uchiha and Senju, carving his name into history with blood and dominance. To the people, Totanda was a hero who returned triumphant to Nakamaki, but they did not see what lay behind that mask." Buddha leaned forward, his eyes glinting with barely concealed disdain. "In reality, he was a tyrant, ruling over Nakamaki with an iron fist, demanding absolute loyalty and punishing any who dared to defy him."
Rei's expression shifted, her brows knitting together as she took in the story. Even Yami, usually composed, showed the faintest hint of unease. This portrayal of his ancestor clashed with the stories he'd been raised on. Totanda was supposed to be a hero, a warrior who defended his people against the strongest enemies. Yet Buddha spoke of him as though he were no different from a conqueror.
"To Totanda," Buddha continued, "everything was a tool to be wielded, including alliances. He was shrewd and manipulative, and he saw the Naguyoto clan as a threat, something he could not control. He despised our power, feared what we were capable of. And so, Totanda took it upon himself to ensure that our clan would never rise to challenge him."
Buddha's gaze darkened, and his voice took on a cold edge. "Gotanga Kurozai, your ancestor," he said, turning toward Rei, "was no less ambitious. He was quieter about it, a man of subtlety and cunning. While Totanda led from the front, Gotanga schemed in the background, whispering ideas into the ears of the right people. In time, the two forged an alliance—a partnership that would shape the fate of the Naguyoto."
Rei's fists clenched at her sides. She glanced at Yami, her expression conflicted, as if part of her was unwilling to believe that her ancestor could be complicit in such treachery.
"In public," Buddha continued, "Totanda and Gotanga portrayed themselves as heroes. They were the faces of the alliance, powerful and noble. They spoke of peace, of unity among the villages, and the people believed them. But behind closed doors, they plotted. They used the fear and mistrust surrounding the Naguyoto clan to turn others against us, planting seeds of resentment and suspicion in the hearts of those who had once looked to us for protection. They whispered that we were dangerous, that we practiced forbidden jutsu that threatened the balance of Enraoi."
Buddha's voice grew bitter as he continued. "They turned our own village against us. Oushizawa became a place where we were feared, despised, and eventually hunted. Totanda and Gotanga stirred the people into a frenzy, fanning the flames of hatred until they burned bright enough to ignite rebellion. By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late."
Yami's face was unreadable, his usual stoicism now a wall against the torrent of conflicting emotions that swirled within him. The man he had admired, the legendary Totanda Shiyume, was being painted as a cold tyrant, a manipulator who had engineered the downfall of an entire clan for his own gain.
"Our people were slaughtered," Buddha continued, his voice laced with sorrow. "Those who survived were forced into hiding, their lives spent in fear and secrecy. Totanda and Gotanga washed their hands of the blood they had spilled, presenting themselves as saviors who had rid the world of a great evil. And the people hailed them as heroes."
Silence hung heavy in the room as Buddha's words sank in. Yami looked down, his jaw clenched as he absorbed the revelation. Rei, too, was struggling to process the weight of Buddha's words, her fingers tightening into fists as she tried to reconcile this version of her ancestor with the stories she had been told.
"Now you understand why we hate the Shiyume and Kurozai clans," Buddha said quietly, his gaze shifting between the two young shinobi. "We have carried this resentment for generations, waiting for the day when we could reclaim what was taken from us. And now, here you are—descendants of those who betrayed us, standing in our village. Fate, it seems, has a cruel sense of irony."
Rei's voice trembled as she spoke. "This… doesn't make sense. Our clans were protectors. We've never heard of this version of events."
Buddha's expression softened, though his voice remained cold. "History is written by the victors. The Shiyume and Kurozai clans have ensured that only their version of the story survives. But here, within these walls, we remember the truth. And we will not rest until that truth is known to all."
With that, Buddha leaned back, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched Yami and Rei grapple with the weight of their ancestors' sins.