The village lay nestled between the mountains and the sea, a landscape both dramatic and serene. What stood out most were the plants on the rooftops. Shrouded in mist year-round, the vegetation gave the village, seen from a distance, the appearance of undulating mountains. Zaraki Kita had long studied the Mist Village, but back then she explored it in secret. Now, she had someone to explain everything.
"This is the Memorial Park. Thirty years ago, the village suffered a devastating flood. After that, the village built this archway to commemorate those lost in the disaster. Over time, it became a unique scenic spot. Couples often come here for dates. Isn't it strange? Originally meant for mourning, now it's a place of joy."
Terumi Mei spoke without revealing much emotion—whether it was happiness or indignation was hard to tell. Kita sensed the subtlety in her words, the understated delivery.
——People have to look forward, after all.
After speaking, she looked at a young couple standing near the Memorial Park, leaning on each other, and added softly:
——They seem genuinely happy now.
Mei followed her gaze. The couple was small and delicate. The man talked endlessly while the woman listened quietly, smiling with light in her eyes—a perfect image of contentment.
"For the sake of protecting smiles like this, I would give anything, pay any price, without hesitation."
Her conviction was unwavering, eyes unshakable.
Kita nodded in affirmation.
——You'll make a good Mizukage.
"Mizukage?" Mei's lips curved into a sarcastic smile.
Kita shook her head, turning to face Mei squarely, speaking sincerely.
——Power and method are neither good nor bad; the difference lies in the person using them. A hero, to me, is not someone who saved people or accomplished deeds, but someone who can bear the weight of responsibility. Now I understand why you told the truth to the Mizukage. You're strong, and I admire you.
That day, Mei brought subordinates capable of assassinating the Mizukage if she wished, and yet said: "Forgive me, Mizukage, I must confirm if you are truly being controlled."
If true, she would release him; if false, she would kill.
Her methods weren't entirely honorable, even underhanded at times, but the sooner the Fourth Mizukage's rule ended, the better. A politician might not find this remarkable, but Mei's honesty stood out. Despite crossing moral lines, she preserved her core integrity at the crucial moment. People like her were truly rare.
A fleeting daze came over Mei—a sensation telling her that this woman, calling herself Kita, trusted her, even…
"Encouraging me?"
Kita shook her head.
——You don't meet people like you every day, so I want to show it, no matter what.
At least these words were honest.
"Heh, I don't even fully know what kind of person I am," Mei said with a half-smile. "Perhaps I chat and laugh with you now, and the next moment I could kill you. Even my own sister has said the same. Not so much a sister, more like a demon."
Kita smiled, unafraid.
——Then I've met the gentlest, kindest demon in the world. Not everyone can do righteous deeds with morally dubious methods, but you did it. Demon, villain—external judgments don't matter. What kind of person you are, only you need to know. Call it pride, but it's your way that earns respect, trust, and loyalty.
She's quite the conversationalist, Mei thought, smiling and narrowing her eyes.
"Heh, you really know how to please someone~ Makes me think you must have some hidden agenda~"
Kita smiled back, also narrowing her eyes.
——Would it count as a hidden agenda if you bought me a portion of takoyaki?
"Boss, two large takoyaki, please."
Overall, it was a delightful travel experience. Mei was talkative, and a skilled ninja with knowledge of jutsu, odd history, politics, and gossip—all spoken with ease. Kita, long used to gathering intelligence, knew much of the same. There was no probing or testing, just exchanging stories and perspectives from their years of observation.
What began as cautious attempts by Kita to gain Mei's favor eventually became genuine admiration. Mei's insights into jutsu were unconventional, sometimes extreme, yet brilliant. Her interpretations of well-known historical events—like the character of the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, or the demise of the Fourth Hokage—were uniquely perceptive. Kita respected Mei's assessment of the current political landscape: major powers were stable and outwardly calm, while small nations were constantly at war yet inherently moving toward stability. Peace seemed to reign, but the smallest anomaly could ignite chaos—then wars would not remain local, but spiral into multi-nation conflicts.
Kita applauded internally. The calm before the storm indeed. Who would stir the waters, however, remained unknown.
As Kita admired Mei, Mei reciprocated. She had never encountered anyone like Kita who could understand her—her frustrations, her political perspectives. Kita wasn't silent, didn't just listen; she actively engaged. Her insights into Konoha's state were sharp and accurate—peace on the surface, yet rotting at the roots. The Third Hokage had barely held on after the losses of the First and Second Hokages. The tree of Konoha looked magnificent, but the roots were decayed. Without renewal, disaster would strike first there.
This impressed Mei deeply. No one had ever articulated it so clearly. They lost track of time, talking about everything—national affairs, family, politics—from the Memorial Park to a small tavern, to street food at nightfall.
Kita finished the last sip of her beer, feeling utterly satisfied. Conversations with Mei differed from those with Konan. Konan was sharp, analytical, capable of penetrating truths quickly, but Mei was different. She offered another perspective: the Fourth Hokage, of civilian origin, rose through merit to prevent clan interference in Konoha's governance. The result was the same, but the motivation was brighter, sunnier. Kita trusted this interpretation more than Konan's cynical one.
Kita knew her intelligence was average; often it took her long to fully understand Konan's advanced insights. But Mei's ideas were immediately comprehensible.
"Didn't expect we'd get along so well," Mei said, smiling, beer in hand, genuinely pleased to have found a kindred spirit.
——I agree. Though I've had good conversations before, you're special.
They talked about jutsu, about the world, even about forbidden techniques, yet with Mei it was a conversation spanning all topics.
"I think so too," Mei said earnestly. "These are just my personal thoughts, not meant to instruct."
——But I had to say them.
Kita gestured with a smile.
——In the grand scheme, we're tiny insects. To exist, to survive here—is it fortune or misfortune? I still cannot tell. Perhaps only humans worry this way, or perhaps all things are like this. Sometimes it's truly bewildering.
"Yes. Right and wrong, what's right or wrong… sometimes it's hard to discern. Maybe the concepts themselves are vague. Until the day comes, we cannot know the future," Mei said, finishing her beer.
——I envy those with clear goals, who know what they want to become. I knew a boy who simply wanted to be one of Konoha's Seven Ninja Swordsmen. Such a simple goal, yet so much effort and training. Sometimes I wished he could stay there forever.
——The unknown is always scarier than imagined. Pain awaits ahead in many forms.
"Ah, I suddenly miss studying. Though it came with fear, it was a known fear," Mei said, nostalgic. She glanced at Kita. "What about you? Even as a wandering ninja, someone must have taught you jutsu."
Kita shook her head with a smile.
——For wandering ninjas, only war keeps us fed. You might be surprised, but I fought in the Second Great War.
"Second Great War? You must have been a child then." Mei opened another beer. The floor was littered with cans, the barbecue long cold, and the shop owner preparing to close.
Kita didn't mind, nodding slightly.
——Seven years old. Many companions died, but after that mission, I had meat for the first time.
Kita chuckled, self-mocking.
"That's tough," Mei said.
——Not really. After that, my dream was just to eat meat every day. That thought made weapons less frightening.
"Our generation's misfortune," Mei sighed.
Kita shook her head.
——Today's generation is worse. Those who don't know the horrors of war go mad when it strikes. I've seen it many times—unimaginable scenes.
"Post-traumatic stress," Mei said softly. "A friend of mine killed himself after the Third Great War. He couldn't even enter the hall of heroes."
In the Mist Village, as in all villages, those who committed suicide could not be honored in the hall of heroes.
——He was both lucky and unlucky. Lucky to retain some humanity, unlucky to differ from most.
Slightly ironic. Mei laughed. "You insult my friend, but I'm not angry at all."
——I'd rather praise him.
Mei accepted that.
"From then on, I vowed that if peace truly exists, I'd pay any price to grasp it, even for an instant."
Kita raised her cup.
——You'll make a good Mizukage.
"Take that as a blessing. Cheers."
━━━━ ❖ ━━━
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