Ruichi slowly walked along the outskirts of the settlement, carefully observing the so-called Taketori Village before him.
Calling it a "village" was almost misleading—its scale was anything but small. There were easily several hundred households. Wooden homes were scattered across the mountainside, and thin plumes of cooking smoke curled into the air, giving the place a lively, down-to-earth atmosphere.
Two ninja in light protective gear stood guard at the entrance. Judging by their uniforms, they belonged to the village's own security force.
Ruichi stepped forward with a harmless smile.
"Excuse me, brothers. I'm just a traveler passing through. It's getting late—would it be possible for me to stay here for the night?"
The two guards looked him over. Ruichi didn't seem threatening at all.
Loose gray cloth robes, plain black trousers, a small travel pack slung over his shoulder. Only his medium-length white hair stood out, glowing faintly under the sunset.
"Don't cause any trouble once you're inside," one of them said. "The inn is about two hundred meters straight ahead."
"Thank you."
Ruichi entered the village.
As he walked, he quietly observed the villagers around him.
Just as Hinata told me.
The Taketori Clan here is clearly different from the ones from Kirigakure.*
The Kirigakure Taketori all had pure black hair, but here it's mixed—black, brown, even multicolored. Black hair is actually the minority.
Some people have chakra, but most of it is extremely weak. They probably can't even use basic ninjutsu, let alone Shikotsumyaku.
What's even more different is the atmosphere. Peaceful, relaxed—none of that extreme aggressiveness the Kirigakure Taketori were known for.
Is this what happens when the bloodline gets diluted? Honestly, this place would be perfect for Old Man Teuchi and the others.
He found the village inn and checked in without any fuss.
The room was clean enough, though slightly damp. After setting down his pack, Ruichi decided to gather information during dinner.
The inn's dining hall was lively, filled with villagers chatting over meals.
Ruichi ordered food and took a seat by the window.
The nearby villagers soon noticed the unfamiliar face.
"Hey there, young man. Don't think I've seen you before."
"I'm just passing through," Ruichi replied with a smile. "It got late, so I stayed the night."
They quickly warmed up to him, eagerly asking about news from the outside world.
"By the way," Ruichi said casually, "I heard there was also a Taketori Clan in the Land of Water. They were wiped out two years ago for rebelling. Were they relatives of yours?"
The dining hall fell silent.
Some of the younger villagers looked confused.
"Land of Water? We had relatives there?"
A few men in their prime clearly knew the story, but their faces showed nothing but schadenfreude.
"Good riddance. Those lunatics were an embarrassment. Now people won't think all Taketori are psychos."
Only the old man sitting in the corner trembled, his chopsticks shaking as fear flashed across his face.
Ruichi lowered his head and continued eating, but the conclusion in his mind had already taken shape.
---
In rural places, news spreads quickly—especially something as big as the extermination of the Kirigakure Kaguya.
By nightfall, the entire village was buzzing.
Ruichi strolled near the inn, calmly observing the reactions.
Most of the younger generation didn't even know the Kirigakure Taketori Clan had ever existed.
The young and middle-aged knew, but were openly pleased—clearly the result of long-standing education and propaganda.
The elders' reactions were the most complex.
Some were excited.
Some mournful.
Some indifferent.
Others conflicted.
But the most common response was—
"What now? Those lunatics were supposed to be our last backup."
"Aren't there still elders from the main house? Let them work harder."
"Hah. Their bloodline isn't much stronger than ours. They've had plenty of children, but what's the result? Not one of them can even use Shikotsumyaku."
"Sigh… We intermarried with other clans to suppress our violent nature. And now look at us."
In a world where bloodlines decide everything, losing a bloodline is a catastrophic problem, Ruichi thought.
Those old men must be panicking.
He returned to his room, silently calculating how to take advantage of that anxiety—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound interrupted his thoughts.
Ruichi opened the door to find the innkeeper and a middle-aged man.
"Mr. Ruichi," the innkeeper said respectfully, "the Clan Head wishes to see you. Please come with us."
---
Plans never keep up with reality.
Ruichi had originally intended only to test the Taketori Village's attitude toward outsiders—and toward the Kirigakure Taketori Clan.
He hadn't expected to be summoned so quickly to meet the Clan Head himself.
The Clan Head's residence was halfway up the mountain, an old-style compound with a long history etched into its beams.
The Clan Head was a gray-haired elder. Though his back was slightly hunched, his eyes were sharp and penetrating.
"Please, sit," the elder said, gesturing to the cushion across from him.
"I am Taketori Sanuki."
"I heard that you, young man, have information about the Kaguya Clan of the Land of Water?" Sanuki asked as he poured tea, his gaze never leaving Ruichi's face.
"They're only rumors I've heard," Ruichi replied carefully, taking a sip. "If the Clan Head doesn't mind."
He then briefly recounted what he knew: the implementation of the Blood Mist policy, the coup led by Zabuza Momochi two years ago, and the participation—and ultimate extermination—of the Kirigakure Taketori Clan.
"That's everything I've heard."
"…No survivors?" Sanuki asked, urgency slipping into his voice.
"According to the rumors, they fought to the last. None survived."
Sanuki sighed, closing his eyes.
Even if there had been survivors, they would have changed their names and gone into hiding under the relentless pursuit of Kirigakure's hunter-nin.
And given the temperament of those radicals… they would rather die than beg for refuge.
Most likely, they really had perished as Ruichi said.
Seeing the old man's expression, Ruichi probed further.
"Forgive my curiosity, Clan Head. From what I've heard, the Taketori Clan of the Land of Fire and the one in the Land of Water weren't exactly on good terms. Most villagers seemed happy about the news."
Sanuki looked at him quietly.
"Our beliefs differed. There were grudges," he said slowly.
"But blood is blood. In the end, we are still of the same clan."
He met Ruichi's gaze.
"Thank you for bringing us this news. If possible, please spread word that the Taketori Clan of the Land of Fire is willing to accept any survivors from Kirigakure. I will offer an appropriate reward."
"No problem," Ruichi said. "But… is that safe? Kirigakure has hunter-nin."
"Heh." Sanuki smiled faintly. "A few ninja won't scare us. The Kaguya bloodline isn't so weak."
At this point, Ruichi was confident.
The Land of Fire's Taketori Clan truly wanted Kirigakure survivors.
Whatever motives they hid, their sincerity—and desperation—were real.
Ruichi took a slow breath.
Then he spoke, his voice calm.
"Actually… I'm also a member of the Taketori Clan."
------
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