Hiroshi Nohara's words sounded dangerously like the sort of promise that preceded a tragedy.
If Hiroshi also carried photographs of Rin and his wife, Misae, and developed the habit of looking at them whenever he had a quiet moment on the front lines, then nearly every imaginable death flag would be in place.
Ren remained silent for a moment.
When he finally answered, his voice was solemn enough to erase any trace of humor from the situation.
"Uncle Hiroshi, you can rest assured. As long as I am alive, I will do everything in my power to keep Rin safe. If anyone wants to hurt her, they will have to step over my corpse first."
It was not a casual reassurance. It was a promise carrying the weight of Ren's life.
After all, the greatest threat to Rin was not an ordinary enemy on the battlefield.
It was Uchiha Madara.
As long as Obito remained Madara's chosen successor—and as long as Obito continued caring deeply for Rin—her survival would remain uncertain.
Madara needed to shatter Obito's faith in the world. Rin was the most effective weapon he could use to accomplish that.
Preventing the tragedy would not be easy.
Ren might genuinely have to stake his life upon it.
Moreover, since he was now a member of Team Minato, Madara might not necessarily target Rin first. Whether Ren admitted it or not, he had already formed a deep bond with Obito.
If Madara needed to force Obito into despair, killing Ren could achieve a similar result.
The thought sent a faint chill through him.
Ren did not know whether the elderly Madara could still use the Rinnegan's abilities, but he was almost certainly capable of manifesting the Complete Body Susanoo. If he had preserved spare Sharingan, he could also use forbidden techniques such as Izanagi or Izanami.
There were very few people alive who could confront him directly.
If Ren ever encountered Madara, he would not hesitate to flee.
Reverse Summoning, Flying Thunder God, sacrificial clones—he would use anything available to escape before the old monster could finish raising his hand.
"Ren!"
Rin's voice pulled him back to reality.
Her cheeks had turned bright red, partly from emotion and partly from embarrassment. She stared at him reproachfully, although the moisture gathering in her eyes made the expression far less intimidating than she intended.
"What are you saying so early in the morning? Don't talk about anyone stepping over your corpse! Both you and Dad will return safely. Do you understand?"
Ren opened his mouth, then wisely nodded.
"I understand."
Hiroshi watched his daughter's flustered reaction, and the tension that had weighed upon him finally eased.
"Hahaha!"
He laughed heartily and struck Ren's shoulder with a heavy palm.
The slap nearly made Ren stumble, but the strength behind it carried something far more important than force.
It carried a father's trust.
"Good!" Hiroshi declared. "With that promise, I can leave without worrying."
He adjusted the pack across his shoulders and looked at Rin one final time.
"I'm leaving. I'll see you again soon."
Neither Rin nor Ren pointed out that the southwestern battlefield was too far away for him to return within a few days.
They both understood what Hiroshi truly meant.
Wait for me.
I will come home.
Hiroshi turned and strode toward the village entrance, where the reinforcement force had begun to assemble. His figure gradually disappeared among the other departing ninja until even the color of his flak jacket could no longer be distinguished.
Rin continued staring in the direction he had gone.
Her eyes were slightly red, and her fingers unconsciously twisted the corner of her shirt.
Ren watched her for a moment before releasing a soft sigh.
"Don't worry too much. Uncle Hiroshi is an experienced ninja. He's crossed more bridges than we've walked roads. He knows how to protect himself."
Rin did not answer immediately.
Ren continued in a gentler voice.
"Besides, we probably won't remain in Konoha for much longer. The village is mobilizing everyone it can. We might receive orders within a few days—or perhaps a week or two—to reinforce the front lines."
"If that happens, we may even meet Uncle Hiroshi on the battlefield."
Rin finally looked away from the road.
"You're right."
She nodded firmly, forcing down the sadness of parting and replacing it with determination.
"The war is still going on. We need to become stronger if we want to survive and protect everyone around us."
After thinking for a moment, she looked at Ren.
"Let's find Obito this afternoon and train together. What do you think?"
"Sounds good."
Ren nodded, then added, "We should invite Asuma and the others too. Everyone has become a Chūnin now, so they'll probably be sent to the battlefield sooner or later. Since we already have combat experience, we can warn them about some of the things they should expect."
Rin had no objection.
They had all been classmates for years, and helping one another prepare for the battlefield was only natural.
Of course, she would prefer it if a certain red-eyed girl did not spend quite so much time standing beside Ren.
At noon, Ren and Rin returned to their respective homes to eat and rest. Afterward, they met again and headed toward the Uchiha compound to find Obito before arranging a joint training session.
While Konoha's younger generation prepared for the war, a far darker discussion was taking place beyond the village.
Deep within the Mountains' Graveyard, near the Valley of the End, Uchiha Madara sat beneath the immense Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.
With tubes extending from the statue into his aged body, the legendary Uchiha appeared frail enough to collapse at any moment.
Yet the pressure surrounding him remained terrifying.
His gaze passed slowly over the intelligence Black Zetsu had gathered.
"Hmph."
Madara's expression twisted with contempt.
"This brat named Yahiko believes he can create peace without overwhelming military power?"
A cold laugh echoed through the cavern.
"How laughable. He is exactly like that idiot Hashirama—forever clinging to unrealistic fantasies about this world."
At this time, the Akatsuki was still led by Yahiko.
The organization had been established after Jiraiya completed three years of teaching in Amegakure and departed. By now, it had only existed for approximately three years.
Yahiko's ideals attracted a growing number of people who genuinely desired peace. The organization had earned a little fame within the Land of Rain, but compared with the forces influencing the entire shinobi world, it remained insignificant.
Its members resolved local disputes, protected civilians, and tried to build cooperation without relying upon fear.
In Madara's eyes, such efforts were nothing more than children playing at politics.
If Nagato were not among them, he would not have spared the Akatsuki a second glance.
Black Zetsu emerged from the shadows beside him.
"Lord Madara, should we eliminate Yahiko? As long as he remains alive, Nagato will not become the Akatsuki's true leader. That may interfere with the Eye of the Moon Plan."
"There is no need."
Madara shook his head.
Mockery flickered within his ancient eyes.
"Naive idealists like him are destined to be crushed by this cruel world. We do not need to dirty our hands."
His fingers tapped lightly against the stone beneath him.
"Reality itself will teach Yahiko and his companions the most painful lesson imaginable. When that moment arrives, Nagato's understanding of the world will collapse."
"And then…"
Madara's lips curled into a faint smile.
"We will rebuild his beliefs into something useful."
Black Zetsu said nothing.
It understood better than anyone that Yahiko's death would not merely be an unfortunate possibility.
Even if reality failed to produce the tragedy Madara desired, Madara would eventually ensure that it happened.
After a brief silence, Madara raised his head.
"What about that white-haired brat from Konoha?"
Black Zetsu immediately understood whom he meant.
"Ren was recently nominated as a Special Jōnin. He accompanied Minato Namikaze and several others to Kusagakure, where they rescued an Uzumaki survivor."
"In recognition of his contribution, Konoha rewarded him with several ninjutsu. He also appears to have gained Tsunade's approval and received instruction in medical ninjutsu."
The scouting abilities of Black Zetsu and the White Zetsu were extraordinarily effective.
Unless someone trained within one of the hidden sacred regions, it was almost impossible to conceal their movements once the Zetsu began monitoring them seriously.
Black Zetsu reached behind itself and produced several glass bottles bearing Konoha's leaf emblem.
"There is one other matter."
Madara glanced at the bottles.
"What are those?"
"A beverage created through a partnership between Ren's family and Tsunade. It has become quite popular throughout Konoha and is beginning to spread across the Land of Fire."
Black Zetsu presented one of the bottles to him.
"I instructed White Zetsu to obtain several so you could examine them personally."
Madara stared at the bottle in silence.
He had expected information about secret techniques, weapons, or perhaps a new form of chakra training.
Instead, Black Zetsu had brought him a soft drink.
Madara took the bottle, opened the cap, and cautiously smelled its contents. Detecting nothing suspicious, he tilted his head back and swallowed two mouthfuls.
The sweet, carbonated liquid slid down his throat.
His eyebrow rose slightly.
"The flavor is unusual, but it is merely an ordinary drink. There is no reason to concern ourselves with it."
Not far away, the spiral-faced White Zetsu known as Tobi stared eagerly at the remaining bottles.
Madara tossed them toward him.
"White Zetsu, take these as a reward."
Tobi caught them happily.
Madara's gaze sharpened.
"And after drinking them, stop whispering those disgusting questions beside my ear."
Tobi tilted his head.
"What questions?"
Madara's expression darkened.
"You know exactly which ones."
The White Zetsu creatures were mindless products created from victims of the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Madara knew that expecting normal behavior from them was unreasonable.
Even so, hearing Tobi repeatedly wonder what feces felt or tasted like occasionally made Madara want to strangle him.
Black Zetsu wisely redirected the conversation.
"Lord Madara, Kumogakure and Sunagakure have formed a two-sided offensive against Konoha. Uchiha Obito, Ren, and the other members of their generation will most likely return to the battlefield soon."
"How should we proceed?"
"Wait."
Madara's eyes narrowed.
"The battlefield is a furnace. It tempers the human heart—but it can also twist beliefs beyond recognition."
He slowly leaned back against the statue.
"What we need is an opportunity. A desperate situation powerful enough to destroy Obito's hope."
Black Zetsu listened carefully.
"Ideally, his despair should originate from the companions he trusts… or from Konoha itself."
"You intend to make the village betray him?"
"Not directly."
Madara's smile deepened.
One name left his lips.
"Danzō Shimura."
The temperature in the cavern seemed to drop.
"That man inherited all of Tobirama Senju's darkness and none of his restraint. Like his teacher, he will use any method necessary to accomplish his goals."
Madara's contempt for Tobirama remained undiminished, even after so many years.
"Considering the talent Ren has displayed and Obito's Uchiha bloodline, they must have already drawn Danzō's attention."
Black Zetsu immediately understood.
"We only need to provoke Root slightly…"
"Correct."
Madara's fingers slowly tightened.
"A small piece of false intelligence. A conveniently arranged misunderstanding. A mission in which Root and Team Minato believe the other has interfered with their objective."
"Once suspicion appears, conflict will develop naturally."
Madara looked toward the darkness beyond the cavern.
"Perhaps Danzō will try to recruit Ren. Perhaps he will view the boy as a threat. Either outcome can be useful."
"If Konoha itself becomes responsible for the suffering of Obito's companions, then Obito will begin questioning everything he once believed."
Without ever setting foot in Konoha, Madara had already begun weaving a trap around Team Minato.
"Black Zetsu, continue monitoring Obito and the others. Record their missions, their movements, and everyone with whom they interact."
"Once they return to the battlefield, watch them even more closely."
His voice became cold.
"Do not overlook a single moment that can be turned into an opportunity."
"Understood, Lord Madara."
Black Zetsu sank into the ground, disappearing into the darkness.
Madara's gaze turned eastward, as if he could see across the sea and into the distant Land of Water.
"The Land of Fire, the Land of Wind, and the Land of Lightning are already moving. Ōnoki, however, is cautious and difficult to manipulate."
The Third Tsuchikage had lived through too many conflicts to be easily used. Every decision he made concealed several layers of calculation.
That made the Land of Earth an inconvenient piece on Madara's board.
Kirigakure was different.
"So, it is time for the Hidden Mist to play its part upon this stage."
Madara's eyes gleamed faintly in the cavern's darkness.
"This pool of water is still too clear."
His voice dropped into a whisper.
"It must become muddier—bloodier—and far more chaotic."
A storm capable of engulfing the entire shinobi world was beginning to take shape within Uchiha Madara's mind.
Meanwhile, those caught at its center knew nothing of the danger approaching them.
"Hah… Hah…"
Several exhausted gasps echoed across a training ground in Konoha.
Ren stood in the center with his sword in hand. Dust stained the edges of his clothes, but his breathing remained steady.
Across from him, Obito, Asuma, and Raidō Namiashi leaned forward with their hands braced against their knees.
All three looked as if they had survived a life-or-death battle.
A short while earlier, they had challenged Ren together.
Although the three were not members of the same squad and lacked proper coordination, they had attacked him using almost every skill they possessed.
Fire Release, Taijutsu, swordsmanship, traps, feints, and coordinated charges—all of it had been thrown at Ren.
Yet they had only managed what could generously be called a draw.
Even that result deserved quotation marks.
Obito, Asuma, and Raidō were completely exhausted. Ren, by contrast, appeared capable of continuing for another round.
If this had been a real battle rather than a spar, Ren would eventually have killed all three of them.
Obito straightened and stamped his foot in frustration.
"Damn it! Why are you improving so quickly, Ren?"
The two tomoe beneath his goggles rotated restlessly.
"I already awakened the Sharingan! Some of those attacks were only a hair away from hitting you!"
He grabbed his hair with both hands.
"This is infuriating!"
Obito had once believed that awakening the Sharingan would immediately make him unbeatable.
During the battle, he had indeed seen most of Ren's movements. His eyes followed the sword, captured Ren's footwork, and even noticed some of his feints.
But seeing something and stopping it were entirely different matters.
No matter which direction Obito attacked from, Ren seemed to have already predicted it. There were no openings in his defense—and whenever Obito thought he had discovered one, it turned out to be a trap.
Asuma looked equally frustrated.
As the Third Hokage's son, he possessed a stubborn pride that he rarely admitted aloud.
He rebelled against his father and disliked being judged according to his family name, but deep down, he believed he should stand among the strongest members of his generation.
Even Kakashi was merely an early bloomer in Asuma's eyes.
Being ahead as a child did not guarantee remaining ahead forever. Asuma still dreamed of surpassing Kakashi and becoming Konoha's strongest young ninja.
But Ren was becoming more terrifying every time they met.
His progress did not merely continue—it accelerated.
It was as though the word bottleneck did not exist for him.
Of course, Ren believed his advancement came almost entirely from relentless effort, with only a tiny and practically insignificant amount of assistance from the gala system.
He had encountered a few obstacles. The Healing Technique remained trapped behind a special event, while the Nerve Activation Technique was still incomplete.
But his existing abilities were already enough to leave almost everyone his age far behind.
Ren sheathed his sword and looked toward Obito.
"Your Fire Release is powerful enough, but your timing is terrible."
Obito's expression stiffened.
"You attack too directly," Ren continued. "Any experienced enemy can predict when you're about to use a technique. Once they recognize the timing, dodging or defending becomes easy."
"If you hadn't wasted so much chakra on attacks that never had a chance of landing, you wouldn't be this exhausted."
Obito opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again.
Ren turned toward Asuma.
"And you're too reckless."
Asuma frowned.
"You constantly try to exchange injuries with your opponent. That might work against an ordinary enemy, but some ninja possess techniques capable of killing you after a single exchange."
Ren tapped the sealed mark he had placed upon Asuma earlier.
"Just now, I caught you with the Sealing Barrier Method. On a real battlefield, that mistake would have ended your life."
Asuma's frustration disappeared.
Ren's voice grew more serious.
"If you don't correct that habit, you will eventually die because of it."
Trading injuries was common among ninja.
Even Kakashi had once intentionally allowed Zabuza to cut his hand so that his blood would remain on the blade. He then used the Eight Ninja Hounds to track Zabuza through the scent.
It was clever—but only because his opponent had been Zabuza.
If Kakashi had attempted the same tactic against someone like Hidan, that single drop of blood could have killed him.
Sunagakure's poison users posed a similar threat.
Once one of their poisoned weapons broke the skin, a ninja might lose the ability to fight within minutes. A sufficiently skilled poison expert would not even need to inflict a visible wound.
Ren's warning was not only for Asuma and the others.
It was also a reminder to himself.
In the shinobi world, overconfidence killed far more efficiently than most forbidden techniques.
"I understand," Asuma said at last.
He looked down at the mark on his body and fell into thought.
Obito continued pulling at his hair, still trapped between anxiety and wounded pride.
Raidō appeared much calmer.
His philosophy was simple: if he kept his expectations low enough, defeat would never be particularly disappointing.
Footsteps approached from the edge of the training ground.
Rin and Kurenai Yūhi had just finished their own Taijutsu spar. Both girls carried several bottles of water, which they distributed among the exhausted boys.
Obito accepted his bottle gratefully and drank half of it in one breath. The cold water eased the burning heat in his throat and helped settle his chaotic chakra.
Rin handed another bottle to Ren.
Their fingers briefly touched.
Kurenai's red eyes flickered toward them, but she said nothing.
After everyone had recovered slightly, Rin glanced around the training ground.
A faint crease appeared between her eyebrows.
"Come to think of it…"
She looked toward the empty path leading back into the village.
"We haven't seen Kakashi much lately."
The others gradually fell silent.
Obito lowered his water bottle.
Asuma's eyes narrowed.
Ren's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
They had all been busy with their own training and preparations.
Kakashi often accepted missions alone, so his absence had not seemed unusual at first.
But now that Rin had mentioned it, Ren realized something troubling.
It had been several days since any of them had seen Kakashi and no one seemed to know where he had gone.
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