About a week later, Kimimaro moved with Akane through the back forest that bordered a large town, the de facto capital of Shūmoku Island.
Both of them wore masks, pressed close together so that his sensory field could cover and smother them both as one.
This wasn't just a town visit.
Their path led straight to the noble who ruled the island.
The approach was meticulous.
Every guard, every servant they encountered on the way inside was quietly placed under Akane's genjutsu, her three tomoe spinning to seize their minds before they could raise an alarm.
By the time they reached the inner chamber, the silence was unnatural, the whole compound sleepwalking under her crimson gaze.
Kimimaro stepped forward without hesitation, unfurling a prepared seal and pressing it against the feudal lord's chest.
The black script flared, crawling like vines across the man's body before dimming into his skin.
Then, with his usual calm, Kimimaro explained exactly what this meant, how the seal would have to be reapplied weekly, how Jashinist operatives would handle it alongside his directives for the upcoming one, and how any disobedience would result in pain far worse than death.
Akane followed his command with another genjutsu, deeper and sharper than the ones she had cast on the guards.
Fear itself was stitched into the man's mind, his will fractured so that even thoughts of betrayal would trigger panic.
Kimimaro added to the spectacle with his own touch, a grotesque display of his bones blooming like pale weapons from his flesh, inhuman and deliberate.
By the end, the feudal lord sat trembling, hollow-eyed, already broken.
A mortal man had no chance against forces like these. He would obey.
Kimimaro's thoughts were cold as stone.
This world didn't belong to hierarchies, palaces, and phantom institutions.
It belonged to the superhumans who could bend them.
The only law was whose fist struck harder.
As the forest thinned and the path back to their hidden base came into view, Kimimaro broke the silence.
"Don't blame me for not trusting you," he said, his tone even, though a small grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "After all, this was your first mission."
Akane shot him a side glance, her crimson eyes narrowed.
"You didn't trust me? I could've handled that on my own..."
Her words came sharp, proud, yet something in her voice faltered near the end.
Kimimaro thought she looked almost amusing like this.
A proud Uchiha, chin tilted high, but still dragging her feet half a step behind him, as if she'd already admitted who led the way.
In other organizations, perhaps, her arrogance would've been dangerous.
In his cult, it was just another sign she was already being pulled deeper without noticing.
She puffed out a faint breath, muttering again,
"Still, you evaluated me the entire time. Almost like you didn't want to miss it."
He smirked at that, but didn't answer.
Now that her father was healed, the girl's mood was different altogether.
The shadows that had weighed on her when she first begged for his life were gone.
Her Uchiha pride surfaced, sharpened and unmuted, though curiously muted in front of him.
Not because of his strength, but because of his means.
The strange rituals, his powerful and rising cult, the precision of his planning, the way he twisted the world until even her father bowed with gratitude.
It unnerved her, fascinated her, and somewhere deep inside, it thrilled her.
Kimimaro broke her thoughts. "How do you like your new home?"
Her lips curled, almost pouting. "Better now that Saya isn't here. That girl never shuts up. Everything turns into an argument, like she thinks she has something to prove."
Kimimaro thought privately,
'And you don't? You are almost like twin sisters in some ways...' But he let her talk.
"It's quieter," she admitted. "I can actually think. Train. My father has his work now, so I don't need to worry about him being useless. And…"
Her eyes narrowed, though faint heat touched her cheeks.
"At least you keep your word and more, so far. That's rare."
Kimimaro nodded lightly.
Kenshin's role was already proving useful; his head for logistics, finance, and managing supplies had smoothed the cult's inner machinery in a way no shinobi could, also in part thanks to his very important and extensive experience in similar matters for the Uchiha.
The man's hatred of Konoha also burned hotter than any previous affiliation with them.
Gratitude bound him where chains could not.
Akane herself, though, was a different matter.
He didn't need to look hard to see her competitive streak already unfurling.
Every second she spent beside him, she weighed herself against him.
Every order she followed, she filed away, like she was silently preparing to surpass him one day or prove that she could do better.
Kimimaro didn't mind.
In fact, he welcomed it.
Competing meant she was already admitting he was the standard.
She glanced sideways at him, her tone half-teasing, half-serious.
"You know, this mission would have been at least ten times harder if it weren't for my eyes. Maybe you should show a little more respect."
Kimimaro didn't turn, didn't even slow. "Maybe. Or maybe every time you help me, you're just proving I was right to drag you in. You already promised you'll follow me, so no matter what, I trust that you will keep your promise due to your honor as a proud Uchiha. So it makes no difference whether I compliment you emptily or not."
Her lips tightened, but she didn't deny it.
Kimimaro noted the way she carried herself now, stoic, collected, masking her fire beneath that clan pride.
The tsundere edge amused him, but more than that, it confirmed what he already saw: she wasn't breaking away.
She was sinking deeper, binding herself without realizing.
Inside, he thought: 'The Uchiha always burn with emotion. Their strength blooms from hate, grief, and pride. She wants revenge on Itachi, on Konoha. That desire is her leash, and I'll hold it steady.'
Akane, meanwhile, walked with her own thoughts.
Ever since her grandfather, hawk faction leader, hardliner to the end, had driven her out of the clan's core, and her peers, alongside her father, his son-in-law, and not teaching her anything, she'd cursed his name in her youthful arrogance.
Now she wondered.
Maybe he had foreseen this fate all along.
Maybe isolating her, sending her outward with her father, the outer elder, was the only way he could save her.
That possibility, bitter and hopeful all at once, fueled her vengeance even more.
She clenched her fists. 'For him. For all of them. For the truth buried under Konoha's lies. I'll crush them. I'll personally kill Itachi Uchiha.'
This was another reason she bound herself so firmly to that strange cult, not only out of gratitude and honor, but because she recognized it as the one place she could truly grow stronger. After all, where else were so many young monsters gathered under one roof?
It was the place to be, and even someone as proud as her acknowledged that fact.
Neither spoke for a while, but their silence wasn't empty.
In her mind, Akane was already plotting how to prove herself indispensable, how to match and surpass.
In Kimimaro's mind, he was already satisfied: the more she competed, the more she had already admitted he was above the rest.
Eventually, Kimimaro slowed his steps as they passed the treeline, the cult's hidden path stretching ahead.
His eyes flicked to Akane walking beside him, mask still on.
"You know," he said lightly, "you're now officially counted among the four Blessed, alongside Saya, Reika, and Emi. That makes you the newest ornament of this little shrine. And my bodyguard, apparently."
Akane's onyx eyes narrowed faintly behind her mask. "Tch. Don't mock me. You said yourself my duty was to keep you alive, so I'll do exactly that." Her chin lifted with practiced Uchiha pride. "Even if it means cutting down anyone who dares get close."
Kimimaro smirked. "So fierce. I almost feel protected already."
She clicked her tongue and looked away, cheeks warming despite herself. "Don't twist my words. It's not about you. It's about purpose." But the slight pause betrayed her satisfaction.
Kimimaro's gaze lingered on her a moment longer before drifting forward again.
Internally, he felt a quiet strangeness at the dynamic settling in.
He never set out to gather a 'harem' after he transmigrated here.
Yet one seemed to be gathering around him all the same.
Not out of romance, not even out of intent, but out of circumstance, bonds of survival, power, and his own choices.
It didn't bother him.
In truth, he found it easier this way.
Women, in his eyes, were far simpler to control than men.
Men schemed, tested, betrayed.
Women, once bound to him, once given a role, sank deeper in without realizing.
If his inner circle had to be filled with men instead, he doubted he'd have even bothered saving and recruiting them all, no matter their talent.
Now, though, here was Akane, another strong kunoichi, another "Blessed" bloodline member, wrapped into his orbit easily.
Whether she realized it yet or not, she was already sinking into his clutches, step by step.
Now that he had this feudal lord bound, Kimimaro also felt more confident about slipping past any investigations that might come to this island in the future.
At the very least, it bought him a few years, time enough for his cult to grow in secret, to harden in the shadows until it became an undeniable force in the shinobi world.
As for Danzo, Kimimaro had been meticulous, sealing away every trace and covering every step.
He knew Root's master was dangerous, but also that it would be difficult for him to move a large presence here.
And on this island, Kimimaro had the home-field advantage.
Even if Danzo discovered something, Kimimaro trusted his nets of seals and sensors would warn him in time to retreat into Hot Water, or farther beyond if he had to.
Life was unpredictable, after all.
The weak clung to safety, but Kimimaro was ready to be as adaptable as water, to endure whatever complications and hardships came, and still climb to the top in the end.
Revenge could wait.
Victory could wait.
Survival and patience would make both inevitable.
'More likely, Danzo will assume Kumo or Kiri meddled, or that some Uchiha, among them, awakened the Mangekyō and went berserk...', Kimimaro thought with quiet satisfaction.
'After all, who in this world could predict the existence of the little monster nest I've built?'