The dense, misty forests outside the Mist Village carried a haunting stillness as Zabuza Momochi and Haku pressed forward. Each step they took marked their exile, a severed bond with the blood-soaked past they had left behind. Zabuza's massive Executioner's Blade rested on his back, while Haku followed silently, his delicate features hardened by the hardships they endured.
The atmosphere grew tense. Zabuza's sharp senses detected movement ahead—footsteps, low whispers, and the faint crackle of twigs. His hand instinctively rested on his blade, his crimson eyes scanning the fog. Emerging from the haze was a large group of men, women, and children—Kaguya clan members. Their feral demeanor and gaunt faces told the story of a wandering, battle-hardened tribe. At the front stood a towering man, Kizuato, his scarred visage made more menacing by the blind eye with a jagged scar across it. Bone blades extended from his wrists, their jagged edges gleaming in the faint light. Beside him, a pale boy with piercing eyes stood quietly, his stance eerily composed for someone so young. Haku's gaze met his, and for a fleeting moment, an unspoken connection passed between them.
Zabuza raised a hand, signaling no hostility. "We're not your enemy," he said, his voice calm but firm. "We've left the Mist Village. Whatever quarrel you think you have with us, it doesn't exist."
Kizuato sneered, his voice rough and dripping with suspicion. "Lies. You're no better than the village dogs. You're here to warn them about us, aren't you? To save their precious bloodline from being torn apart. I'll make sure you don't have the chance."
Before Zabuza could reply, Kizuato roared and lunged forward like a beast unleashed. His bone blades cut through the air with wild precision, forcing Zabuza to sidestep. Haku instinctively moved to defend, but Zabuza barked, "Stay back, Haku! This is my fight."
The forest became a battlefield, the clash of Kizuato's bone blades against Zabuza's Executioner's Blade reverberating through the mist. Despite his brute strength and relentless aggression, Zabuza quickly discerned the flaws in Kizuato's style. "You're all strength and no discipline," he muttered, dodging a savage blow aimed for his throat. "That'll be your downfall."
Kizuato snarled, his attacks becoming more frenzied, but one brutal swipe finally struck home. A jagged blade pierced Zabuza's chest, and the Kaguya clan erupted in cheers. Blood dripped down the bone weapon as Kizuato grinned triumphantly. "You see?" he growled. "All the strategy and fancy jutsu in the world mean nothing. In the end, power decides who survives."
Then Zabuza's body shimmered—and burst into water. The droplets sprayed across Kizuato's face, and his victorious grin vanished as realization struck. Before he could react, Zabuza materialized behind him, his Executioner's Blade already in motion. The massive weapon cleaved through Kizuato's back, splitting bone and flesh. A guttural scream tore from his throat as he collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
Zabuza stood over the fallen leader, his blade dripping red. His gaze turned to the rest of the Kaguya clan, who had risen to their feet, their feral energy surging. Zabuza braced himself for the inevitable retaliation, but to his surprise, they began to kneel. One by one, they bowed, heads low in submission. Even the pale boy, Kimimaro, hesitated only briefly before lowering his head, though his bone dagger remained clutched tightly in his hand.
Haku's wide eyes flicked between Zabuza and the bowing clan. "They… they're submitting to you."
Zabuza's eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. These people were wolves, wild and untamed, living by a single law: the strong rule. By defeating Kizuato, he had become their leader, their alpha.
He sheathed his blade with a nod, signaling his understanding. "Let's go, Haku." Haku followed obediently, but his gaze lingered on the Kaguya clan as they rose and trailed behind them like a shadow. Kimimaro walked at the forefront of the group, his eyes fixed on Zabuza with a mix of curiosity and silent admiration.
The journey led them far from the Mist Village, but the bond between Zabuza and his newfound "pack" was tenuous. Tragedy soon struck as news of the Kaguya clan's attempted assault on the Mist Village reached their ears. Every member who had dared attack was slaughtered, their bodies burned in a grim warning. Haku glanced back at the remaining clan members, now following them out of necessity and fear. His gaze lingered on Kimimaro, whose silence carried the weight of a boy who had seen far too much.
As the fires burned in the distance, Zabuza, Haku, and their strange new entourage ventured into the unknown. Strength and survival ruled their lives now, but amidst the bloodshed, Haku couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter would shape all of their destinies—especially Kimimaro's.
Four months had passed since Zabuza Momochi had claimed dominance over the remnants of the Kaguya clan. They had carved a bloody path through the borderlands, a nomadic existence fueled by survival, strength, and war. The mist swirled thick around them as they moved through the forests near the border between the Land of Grass and the Land of Waterfalls. This rural area, quiet but brimming with tension, would soon echo with the sounds of chaos.
Suddenly, the silence was shattered. A dense fog blanketed the terrain, consuming the forest and masking the sounds of movement. Hidden within the mist, the Waterfall ninja found themselves under attack. Shadows darted through the white veil, the gleam of steel flashing before blood splattered the ground. Their numbers were falling rapidly, bodies dropping before they could even locate their attackers.
Amid the chaos, the Waterfall ninja's leader shouted above the din, his voice tinged with panic, "It's him! It's Zabuza Momochi and his mad dogs!"
The tide of battle shifted immediately. Fear gripped the Waterfall ninja. They had suffered devastating losses during the border skirmishes, and it all traced back to one name: Zabuza Momochi. Their orders had been clear—if Zabuza and his forces were encountered, flee on sight.
One by one, the Waterfall ninja turned and ran, their retreat frantic as the fog began to lift. The full scale of the slaughter became visible as the mist dissipated. Zabuza stood at the center of the carnage, his Executioner's Blade resting on his shoulder. Around him, the Kaguya warriors stood atop a pile of bodies, blood dripping from their weapons and staining the ground beneath them. The crimson river flowed, mingling with the water at the base of the waterfall, staining it red.
Zabuza exhaled, his breath visible in the chilly air, and scanned the battlefield. Before he could order his men to regroup, a voice called out, sharp and confident.
"Nice job, Zabuza."
He turned to see Suzumebachi, a young kunoichi with short, chestnut-brown hair and a sharp smirk. She was the self-proclaimed leader of the Kamizuru Clan, a dwindling group of bee-using shinobi. The clan had fallen from grace, reduced to Suzumebachi, her three brothers, and a handful of followers. Despite their numbers, they were resourceful and deadly.
Suzumebachi walked casually toward the blood-soaked battlefield, her dark eyes glinting with satisfaction. "My people will take it from here," she said, gesturing confidently.
She raised her hand, forming a quick series of seals. At her signal, her clan emerged from the forest, their presence marked by a growing hum that filled the air. Swarms of bees buzzed forth, their movement almost hypnotic as they descended upon the fleeing Waterfall ninja. The screams came next, echoing through the forest as the bees attacked with relentless precision, their stingers delivering poison and death.
Zabuza watched impassively as the massacre unfolded. Beside him, A Kaguya warrior named Shinichi chuckled, his bone blades slick with blood. "They're like vultures, picking at what's left."
"Let them," Zabuza muttered. "We've done our part."
Suzumebachi turned back to him, the faintest hint of admiration in her gaze. "You certainly live up to your reputation, Zabuza. And your 'mad dogs'… ferocious, just as I heard."
"They're not your concern," Zabuza replied coldly, his tone cutting through her words. "We've cleared the path. Take your prize and be done with it."
Suzumebachi's smirk widened, and she gave a mock bow. "As you wish, Demon of the Mist."
Haku appeared at Zabuza's side, his expression calm yet alert. "The Waterfall forces are scattered," he said softly. "What's next?"
Zabuza sheathed his blade, the metallic sound cutting through the hum of bees and fading screams. "We move forward. There's always another fight, Haku."
As the Kamizuru Clan continued their grim work, Zabuza and his warriors disappeared into the forest, the mist swallowing them once again. Behind them, the crimson-streaked battlefield and the buzzing of bees bore silent testimony to their presence—a fleeting, bloody storm that left nothing but destruction in its wake.
The Hidden Grass Village, a shadowy place of treachery and survival, was a village like any other in structure—a leader, a hierarchy, and constant struggles to maintain power. Its Kusakage, however, was far from the imposing figures of other villages. A small, frail man with an unassuming demeanor, he relied on cunning and manipulation to keep his village afloat amid constant siege.
Zabuza Momochi and Suzumebachi sat in his office, the tension in the room palpable. Zabuza leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his patience wearing thin. Suzumebachi, on the other hand, was unusually quiet, stealing occasional glances at Zabuza when she thought he wouldn't notice. She found him fascinating—his strength, his ruthlessness, his absolute lack of pretense. Of course, she would never say as much.
The Kusakage finally clapped his hands, breaking the silence as he set a stack of battle reports aside. "Well, well," he said, his voice light but filled with the calculated tone of a man who never said anything by accident. "You two are doing amazing work. I wish all our battles went this smoothly."
Reaching for a pipe, he began stuffing it with tobacco, his gnarled fingers moving methodically. "Have you two given thought about joining our village permanently?"
It wasn't the first time he'd brought it up. For weeks now, he had been dropping hints, casually suggesting they and their people settle down in the Grass Village. Both leaders had declined each time, their ambitions and loyalties lying elsewhere.
"I'm sorry, but no," Zabuza said bluntly, his voice cutting through the room like his blade through flesh. "Me and my people are just passing through."
"As are mine," Suzumebachi added, her voice calm but resolute.
The Kusakage sighed theatrically, lighting his pipe and taking a deep puff. "Very well," he said, exhaling a plume of smoke. "You can't blame an old man for trying."
He leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes glinting behind the haze of smoke. "In that case, I have another task for you both. We need to escort two assets to the front lines at the Rain front. The Rain Village has been relentless, and we've taken heavy casualties. Your assistance there would be invaluable."
With a casual motion, he dropped two heavy bags onto the desk, the unmistakable clink of coin echoing in the room. It was clear payment for the mission—payment that neither Zabuza nor Suzumebachi could ignore.
"We'll need all your people on this mission," he continued. "The Rain ninjas are a rowdy bunch, and this will be no easy task. Meet at the village gates at first light."
The two leaders exchanged glances, then nodded in unison. They both stood and turned to leave, their silence an agreement that no further words were necessary. As they stepped out of the Kusakage's office, the sound of his pipe puffing behind them, Zabuza glanced briefly at Suzumebachi.
"Your people better keep up," he muttered.
She smirked, her confidence unshaken. "Just don't get in our way, Demon of the Mist." The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at Zabuza's lips, but he said nothing. Together, they disappeared into the misty streets of the Grass Village, their next bloody mission already weighing on their minds. Behind them, the Kusakage exhaled another plume of smoke, his mind calculating how long he could keep his precarious alliances intact.
The Hidden Grass Village gates, nestled deep within the forest, stood as a secretive threshold to the outside world. The air was cool and damp, the sky still a deep shade of blue as the first hints of dawn crept along the horizon. Zabuza, Haku, and the remnants of the Kaguya clan waited in silence. The Kaguya warriors were scattered in the background, some leaning against trees, others sitting cross-legged on the ground. Shinichi, Zabuza's second-in-command, chewed lazily on a blade of grass, his demeanor as sharp as his bone-crafted weapons.
Kimimaro stood beside him, his green eyes calm and observant as always. Despite his youth, he carried himself with the poise of a seasoned shinobi. His gentle nature stood in stark contrast to the wild ferocity of his clan, and it earned him a quiet respect among them. Shinichi sighed and glanced at the faintly lit sky. "Why are we here so early? There's no light yet."
"The Kusakage said first light," Kimimaro replied simply.
"I don't see any light," Shinichi muttered, his voice dripping with boredom.
Nearby, Haku adjusted his haori and looked toward Zabuza. "Who do you think we're escorting?" he asked. "A high-ranking shinobi? A council member?"
"I don't know," Zabuza replied, his tone cold and uninterested. "But I do know that kunoichi and her clan of beekeepers are late."
A voice rang out from the treeline. "We're not late." Suzumebachi stepped out from the shadows, her brown hair slightly tousled as she smirked at Zabuza. "We've been here for hours."
Her youngest brother, Jibachi, followed closely behind. "We saw you guys arrive," he said, adjusting his glasses. His voice carried a playful smugness. "Don't worry—we're practically invisible with our Camouflage Jutsu."
Shinichi, still chewing on his blade of grass, barely glanced at them. "Your Camouflage Jutsu doesn't hide you when you smell like flowers and honey. We knew you were there."
"Is that so?" Suzumebachi replied, raising a curious eyebrow. Zabuza nodded, his expression unreadable, while Kimimaro gave a small, polite nod of agreement. Haku, on the other hand, looked embarrassed.
"I… I didn't know you were there," he admitted.
Suzumebachi chuckled, her steely grey eyes softening as she looked at Haku. "Don't worry, kid. That's because you're honest."
Before the banter could continue, two Hidden Grass ninja appeared from the gates, escorting a woman and a young girl. Their presence immediately drew the attention of everyone gathered. One of the guards stepped forward and made the introductions.
"This is Mikoto Uzumaki," he said, gesturing to the woman. Mikoto had striking red hair, straight and parted to frame her delicate, yet determined face. Her grey eyes gleamed with intelligence and strength.
"And this is her daughter, Karin Uzumaki," the guard continued, motioning to the younger girl. Karin's crimson hair and narrow glasses gave her a unique charm, but her nervous demeanor was unmistakable. As the introductions were made, both women bowed respectfully.
The guard stepped back. "Your mission is to escort these two to the Rain front. Protect them at all costs. It is a two-day journey. The Rain shinobi will not hesitate to strike if given the chance."
With that, the guards turned and retreated into the village, leaving the group to their task. Haku stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Hi, I'm Haku," he said, his voice soft and friendly. Karin's face turned as red as her hair, and she quickly clung to her mother, avoiding eye contact. Her sudden shyness surprised Haku, and he blinked in confusion.
Suzumebachi tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, isn't this interesting?" she murmured.
Zabuza, however, was staring intently at Mikoto and Karin. He exchanged a glance with Suzumebachi, both of their expressions growing serious. They had heard the stories—legends of the Uzumaki Clan, a clan so powerful that the great nations had united to destroy them. Masters of sealing jutsu, their fiery red hair was as iconic as their devastating abilities. Yet here stood two living Uzumaki, proof that the clan's destruction had not been complete.
"I like your hair," Haku said to Karin with a kind smile. Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red, and she buried her face against her mother's side, too embarrassed to reply.
Mikoto placed a gentle hand on her daughter's head, smiling faintly. Suzumebachi cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "Shall we get moving, then?" she asked, gesturing to the road ahead.
Zabuza gave a curt nod and turned toward the forest. "Let's move," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. The group set off, the forest path stretching before them. The journey to the Rain front had begun, and with it, the promise of danger, bloodshed, and the secrets of the Uzumaki Clan.
As the day stretched on, the group made their way steadily through the dense forest. The sunlight began to wane, casting long shadows over the path. Zabuza, Suzumebachi, Mikoto, and Karin walked near the center of the group, the Kaguya clan forming a protective perimeter around them. Haku had managed to coax Karin into conversation, her once shy demeanor softening under his gentle persistence. The pair walked side by side, with Kimimaro trailing behind them, his sharp green eyes scanning every shadow and flicker of movement. His bone blade rested lightly in his hand, but the tension in his body showed he was ready to strike at the first sign of danger.
Suzumebachi, walking slightly ahead, cast subtle glances back at Mikoto. Her mind churned with unease. She had heard tales of the Uzumaki—how their chakra reserves were legendary, their resilience unmatched. Yet Mikoto looked nothing like the stories. Her once-vibrant red hair was dull, her movements slow, and her eyes hollow. She carried herself like someone burdened by more than just a long journey. Suzumebachi's unease grew with every step.
"I don't like this," she muttered under her breath, her gaze fixed ahead. "Something's not right."
Zabuza, walking beside her, gave a curt nod. "I noticed," he replied quietly. His crimson eyes darted toward Mikoto. "She's weak. But it's not her body—it's something else. I don't know what, but I'll figure it out."
Suzumebachi nodded, though the worry in her chest remained. "Keep an eye on her," she said. "I'll handle the rest."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group decided to stop and set up camp in a small clearing near a stream. The Kaguya warriors spread out, some preparing rudimentary defenses while others sat and rested. Zabuza, Suzumebachi, Haku, and the two Uzumaki shared a large tent at the center of the camp. Inside, the air was heavy with an unspoken tension. Mikoto sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, while Karin clung to her mother's side, her earlier shyness returning in the presence of the larger group.
Outside, Shinichi volunteered for the first watch. He leaned casually against a tree at the edge of the clearing, the faint glow of the campfire reflecting in his sharp eyes. The blade of grass he had been chewing earlier had been replaced with a six-inch bone shard, which he twirled absently between his fingers as if it were a mere toothpick.
Kurobachi Kamizuru, Suzumebachi's older brother, sat nearby, his broad shoulders and cleanly trimmed beard making him stand out among the rest of his clan. He had been quiet for most of the journey, but now his eyes were sharp as he surveyed the perimeter.
Inside the tent, Suzumebachi sat cross-legged, her gaze alternating between Mikoto and Zabuza. She finally broke the silence. "So," she began, her tone sharp and direct. "We've all heard the tales of the Uzumaki. The chakra reserves, the sealing jutsu, the power that made the great nations fear them. But you"—she looked directly at Mikoto—"you're different. Weak, broken. What happened to you?"
Mikoto flinched, her hands tightening into fists. Karin looked up at her mother, her crimson eyes wide with concern. "Don't," Karin whispered. "She doesn't have to—"
"It's fine," Mikoto interrupted, her voice soft but steady. She looked up, meeting Suzumebachi's gaze for the first time. "You're right. I am not what my clan once was. But that's because there's nothing left of us."
The tent fell silent, even Zabuza narrowing his eyes at her words. Mikoto continued, her voice tinged with pain. "The great nations destroyed us. They didn't just attack—they annihilated everything. Families, homes, traditions… everything. The few of us who survived were hunted. I've spent my life running, hiding, just trying to keep my daughter safe."
Her voice cracked at the last word, and Karin squeezed her arm tightly, her own expression a mix of fear and defiance. "But you're still alive," Zabuza said bluntly, his tone as cold as ever. "You're an Uzumaki. You should still have power. Something doesn't add up."
Mikoto hesitated, her gaze falling to the ground. "There are… reasons," she said finally, her voice barely audible. "Reasons I can't explain right now."
Suzumebachi frowned but let it drop for the moment. Haku, sitting near Karin, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We'll keep you safe," he said softly. "Both of you."
Karin's face flushed again, but she didn't pull away this time. Instead, she nodded shyly, her grip on her mother loosening slightly.
Zabuza leaned back against the tent wall, his expression unreadable. "Fine," he said after a long silence. "But whatever secrets you're keeping, they'd better not put us in danger."
Mikoto nodded weakly, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the moment. Outside, the night deepened, the sounds of the forest blending with the faint murmur of the camp. Shinichi twirled his bone shard absently, his sharp eyes never wavering as he watched over the camp. Whatever lay ahead, none of them could shake the feeling that this journey was about to take a darker turn.