Chapter 112: The Ink in the Water
The silence between Rimon and the shadow on his shoulder stretched long after Nawaki's silhouette had been swallowed by the dense treeline. The wind moaned through the ancient cedars, carrying the scent of damp earth and the metallic tang of the village's active barrier.
Rimon didn't move. He stood on that outcrop like a statue of weathered stone, his eyes still fixed on the path to the Rain Country.
"Zetsu," Rimon said, his voice breaking the stillness with the sharp clarity of a snapping twig. "I have a task for you. One that requires your... specific brand of omnipresence."
The black mass shifted beneath Rimon's collar, surfacing just enough to let a single golden eye catch the morning light. "The Patriarch has a long list of errands. What now? A message to the Mist? A flower for a grieving widow?"
"Information," Rimon countered, ignoring the sarcasm. "There is a man—a mercenary. He's a survivor of the old era, a ghost from the Hidden Waterfall who traded his loyalty for a handful of hearts. Find Kakuzu. I need his current location, his active contracts, and most importantly, how many of those hearts are currently beating in his chest."
Zetsu went still. The name Kakuzu carried weight even in the underworld. The man was a relic of the era when the Five Nations were still settling their borders, a walking nightmare of thread and stolen life.
"The Earth Grudge Fear user?" Zetsu hissed, the eye narrowing. "He is a scavenger, Rimon. He values nothing but gold. Why waste your breath on a monster who would skin his own mother for a bounty?"
"Because gold is the one thing I have in abundance," Rimon said, finally turning away from the village gates. "And monsters are much easier to predict than 'heroes.' Go. Don't let him see you, but don't let him out of your sight. I want a report by the time I reach Uzushio."
Zetsu didn't argue. With a silent, fluid motion, the black essence slid down Rimon's leg and merged with the shadow of the outcrop.
As Zetsu moved through the root systems of the Great Forest, his internal monologue was a churning vortex of calculation. For a thousand years, he had been the sole director of the world's tragedy. He had whispered in the ears of Indra's descendants, fanned the flames of the Uchiha's hatred, and carefully pruned the branches of history to lead toward the revival of his mother.
But Rimon... Rimon was an ink blot in a clear glass of water.
'He knows,' Zetsu thought, his consciousness rippling through the earth. 'The boy speaks of "harvests" and "gods from the stars." He mentions the Uzumaki as keepers of secrets, but no scroll in Uzushiogakure contains the truth of the Heavens. Not even Madara, in his final moments of clarity, understood the nature of the infection as this boy describes it.'
Zetsu's suspicion was a cold, hard knot. He had spent decades molding Madara Uchiha into the "Savior" of the world, convinced that he was the only one who truly understood the tablet's secrets. But Rimon treated the grand design of the Shinobi world as if it were a faulty machine he intended to take apart and rebuild.
'Is he a reincarnation? A soul from the era of the Sage who has clawed his way back? No... his chakra is too modern, too vital. But he looks at me—the Will of Madara—and he doesn't see a master. He sees a tool. A sensory organ.'
There was a flicker of something Zetsu hadn't felt in centuries: Vulnerability. If Rimon truly knew about the Otsutsuki, then the Infinite Tsukuyomi was no longer a secret plan—it was a target. Every move the boy made—saving the Senju, courting the Uchiha, rewriting the Hyuga's curse—was designed to consolidate the world's most powerful bloodlines under one banner.
'He is building a wall,' Zetsu realized as he sped toward the Waterfall border. 'He isn't just building a village. He's building a fortress for the planet. And if he succeeds... Mother will have no world left to reclaim.'
Zetsu's eye manifested briefly from the trunk of a tree to check his bearings. 'I will play your game for now, Rimon Uzumaki. I will find your mercenary. I will act as your shadow. But I will be watching every seal you draw. Because if you truly know what I am... then you are the greatest threat to the Heavens this world has ever produced.'
Far behind him, on the outcrop, Rimon started his journey toward the Rain Front. He didn't need to look back to know Zetsu was thinking. He had given the shadow a puzzle it couldn't solve, and in the world of espionage, a distracted enemy was the easiest one to lead by the nose.