Drip.
Drip.
The rain kept falling—if anything, it was heavier than before.
A thin, biting chill seeped into the air, dragging the temperature down with it.
Whoooosh—
At that moment, countless pure-white paper sheets gathered soundlessly a hundred meters above the giant crater.
In the blink of an eye, they formed into a tall, striking woman.
Even under a wide cloak, it was hard to hide her proud figure.
Konan.
A girl with a pale-blue paper flower pinned atop her head.
She stood on the mangled, unrecognizable ground, white wings behind her trembling faintly.
Even she couldn't help shaking her head at what she saw below.
Brutal.
Too brutal.
What had once been dense forest outside the village now looked like it had been struck by a giant meteor.
Chaos everywhere.
Inside the pit, mud churned and rolled, filthy and thick.
At the edge—
Kisame, dressed in rags, lay collapsed in the sludge.
Look closely and you could see his hollow shark eyes—completely empty.
Like a dead fish with its spine yanked out and its fin cut off. Not a single ripple left in him.
And Itachi—the one they'd valued so highly—was slumped against a broken piece of wood.
His face was paper-white, blood smeared across his lips.
Even though rain washed it again and again, fresh red kept seeping out.
His injuries were heavy.
The most outrageous sight was Zetsu beside him.
Like two lumps of grass that had been stomped into the mud—this heap here, that blob there.
What the paper crane had shown her earlier didn't even come close to the impact of seeing this in person.
It looked horrific. Everyone's aura was weak.
But—
they were all still alive.
"…They're still alive."
Konan murmured.
"And 'Madara'… he shouldn't be dead either."
Her tone carried a trace of regret—so faint she didn't even notice it.
These people all had complicated connections to "Madara."
And she could tell too:
that man wasn't as simple as he looked.
Or rather—
he had ulterior motives.
If Nagato hadn't restrained her, and if Akatsuki didn't still need that man's power…
she might've already made her move long ago.
"But… to suppress all of them until they can't even fight back…"
"That little brat…"
Her eyes swept the scene again, and finally landed on the true cause of it all—
a small figure at the center of the rain curtain.
Black hair. Red eyes. Uchiha clan attire.
Yet even after a battle like this, his clothes were spotless.
Not a speck of filth.
Even the rain couldn't dampen him.
"No wonder the Rain Tiger at Will can't read his details. He—hm?"
Konan paused.
Because only now did she notice—
the boy had tilted his head and was looking up at her…
Those crimson pupils held curiosity.
Or rather—
amusement.
No.
Wrong.
That gaze—
was looking at prey.
In that instant, Amegakure's unique sticky coldness seized Konan's heart.
The same child who had beaten "Madara" down, who had treated Akatsuki's upper-tier fighters like vegetables to be chopped—
had set his sights on her.
"Hey, angel. Come down and chat?"
A clear, youthful voice called up from below, breaking the ruin's dead silence.
Tap.
The boy stepped upward, walking on air.
"Paper Dance, huh… I'll admit, it's got something to it."
Kai spoke softly.
His gaze lingered for an extra beat on her wings.
Dance of the Shikigami.
Not the highest-level technique—
but insanely practical.
For example: forming wings and flying.
Flight, in the Naruto world, was rare.
Across the entire shinobi world, Kai could count true flyers on one hand.
So he wanted to talk a little more.
Maybe he'd get lucky and copy it.
"You… who are you really?"
Konan kept her surface calm, but inside, another wave of shock hit her.
Flying.
This Uchiha kid could fly too.
But it didn't look like fast flight.
That—
made her breathe a little easier.
"Who I am isn't important," Kai grinned. "What matters is… I can help you and Nagato."
His voice thinned into a line, like it was being transmitted directly upward.
Crack.
Konan froze as if struck by lightning.
Even her wings forgot to flap—
and she started dropping.
Whoosh—
Flap—!
Only when she was ten meters above the ground did she snap back, paper scattering as she stabilized.
She stared at Kai.
"You… who are you?! Why—why do you know that name?!"
This time, she completely lost composure.
Nagato.
Inside Akatsuki, only a handful even knew that name.
Most knew only "Pain," not Nagato.
And yet this ten-year-old had spoken it aloud.
That alone was enough to shake her.
The system prompt flickered in Kai's hearing.
[Spoke with target Konan for three minutes. Attempting to analyze traits…]
[Copyable traits: Ninja World Sugar Mommy (Black), Maxed Physical Resistance (Black), Paper of God Technique (Purple), Dance of the Shikigami (Purple), Paper Prison (Blue), Explosive Tag Mastery (Blue)…]
"…Huh. 'Ninja World Sugar Mommy' is an actual title."
Kai looked up, a little surprised.
"And 'Maxed Physical Resistance'… if Might Guy showed up, he'd basically lose half his kit."
Turning into paper to negate physical damage—
yeah, that was absolutely obnoxious.
Like Kisame using Samehada fusion to absorb ninjutsu freely.
Even Kage-level fighters often had no clean answer to that.
"I know Nagato mainly because—"
Kai kept talking, dragging the conversation sideways and stretching time.
Then the system chimed again.
[Ten minutes of conversation reached. Attempting to copy traits… Copy failed.]
Kai: "…"
"Tch."
He clicked his tongue, annoyed.
"Looks like I really can't rely on talking."
"Talking has a trash success rate."
Not everyone had Naruto's mouth-nerfing superpower.
With that thought, he took a breath—and his small body shot upward.
Whoosh!
Left foot on right foot—instant vertical ascent.
In a flash, he was right in front of Konan, pressure rolling off him like a warning.
"Come on," Kai said lightly. "Let's fight."
"…Are you sick in the head?!"
Konan's expression darkened.
She couldn't believe it—he'd been chatting just fine, and then suddenly decided to throw hands.
Did he think she was some girl from a red-light street, where he could come and go as he pleased?
She hissed, hands flicking—
and launched countless razor-sharp paper shuriken.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
They were paper, yes—
but their cutting power was frighteningly real.
She understood it now:
this "harmless" boy was a monster more terrifying than a tailed beast.
Only by seizing initiative did she have any chance.
Hummm—
But at that split second—
a pressure beyond words crashed down like a mountain.
And around them, an eerie, heavy "music" seemed to start playing out of nowhere.
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