"What about the other children?"
The faces of the other kids they had seen earlier suddenly flashed through Nawaki's mind. His heart clenched, and his voice trembled as he spoke.
Hatani didn't answer. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he too would succumb to the urge to vomit until he passed out. In this deathtrap of a country, he couldn't afford a single moment of weakness.
Faced with Nawaki's wavering question, he simply gave a microscopic shake of his head.
Nawaki couldn't hold it back anymore; he doubled over and retched again.
"Let's burn this place to the ground," Hatani said softly, his voice finally returning after a long silence. "It might not be the smartest move strategically, but... I want to burn it."
"I... I do too," Nawaki agreed. He was pale and visibly weak, but he summoned every ounce of his remaining strength to back the decision. "A hell like this has no place in the world of the living. Fire is the only way to cleanse it."
Looking at the child trailing behind them, Hatani felt a mounting headache.
Saving someone was never simple, especially when the person saved was a child with zero ability to survive on his own. In a place like this, chasing him away was effectively the same as killing him—though a quick death might actually be more merciful than leaving him to suffer.
But by bringing him along, their already glacial pace dropped even further. They were now officially as slow as the emaciated refugees they were trying to mimic.
Beyond the speed, there was the problem of food. The Land of Rain had been ravaged by war for over a year. Order had collapsed, and agriculture was a memory. Even in the relatively "safe" Hidden Rain Village, the civilians were likely only surviving because of the shinobi's dwindling conscience. For refugees on the road, there was nothing.
Grain was out of the question. As for wild game? Nearly ten thousand ninja from three different villages had been tearing this country apart for over a year. Any animal that hadn't been killed by crossfire had likely been caught and eaten by hungry shinobi long ago. Anything still alive was burrowed so deep in some remote ravine that they'd never find it. If food were that easy to come by, thousands wouldn't be starving to death.
Even if they managed to get the boy to the front-line camp, what then? Konoha wasn't a house of charity. They barely had the resources to care for their own orphans; they certainly didn't have any to spare for a child from an enemy nation.
The only silver lining was that the three of them now looked like a genuine set of war orphans. Even if they walked right past a Suna scout, the enemy would never suspect that the "high-value targets" they were hunting were these three pathetic-looking wretches.
Amegakure, the Hidden Rain Village.
Hanzo of the Salamander had finally returned to his seat of power.
Ever since he'd instigated this war in an attempt to crown himself the "Sixth Shadow"—invading the Land of Valleys and the Land of Iron to expand his territory into a true Great Nation—he had been leading his Rain ninja through a perpetual cycle of blood and steel.
But now, a year into the conflict, the title of "Amekage" felt further away than ever. Instead of an empire, his ambition had turned the Land of Rain into a graveyard of rubble.
Whether he felt any private regret was a secret known only to him. But his hatred for Konoha and Suna was as plain as the day.
Still, one must bow when the ceiling is low.
Now that it was clear Amegakure had lost its chance to become the Sixth Great Village, Hanzo had to consider the endgame. He had to figure out how to preserve his current status and protect what remained of his borders.
This was why, even after he had used his overwhelming strength to crush the Konoha forces and humble the three disciples of the Hokage, he had played the part of the "magnanimous victor" and let them go. He had even bestowed the title of "Sannin" upon them—a move intended to save face for Hiruzen Sarutobi and show Konoha he was ready to talk.
The three disciples likely viewed the title as a mark of shame, but for Hanzo, giving it was its own kind of humiliation.
Fortunately, the gambit had worked. Konoha had sensed his "sincerity" and pulled back, signaling that as long as he could force Suna into a stalemate, the war could end.
With Konoha's pressure relieved, Hanzo had focused his military might on Suna. He hadn't managed to gain much ground against Chiyo, that old puppet-master hag, but he hadn't lost any, either.
Then, Suna had overplayed its hand. Their failed sneak attack on Konoha had resulted in the decimation of their elite puppet corps. Chiyo—his most troublesome opponent—had left the Land of Rain in mourning after both her son and daughter-in-law were killed in action. The war was finally dragging to a close. As the leader, Hanzo had finally found a moment to return to his village.
After a year of chaos that had gained him nothing and left his home in ruins, Hanzo was truly, deeply tired.
So, when he heard reports that Suna was suddenly becoming active again, his initial reaction was a mix of fury and dread. If Suna tried to spark a resurgence, it might cause a chain reaction that brought Konoha back into the fray.
"Useless trash! It's been a day and a night, and you still have no solid intel?!"
Hanzo, wearing his signature respirator, glared at the subordinates kneeling before him. He felt the urge to rip off his mask and let his poisonous breath kill the lot of them.
The Ame Jonin kept their heads low, staring at the floor as if they were trying to merge with the shadows. No one dared to breathe loudly, fearing they would be picked as the scapegoat. In the Hidden Rain, Hanzo wasn't just a leader; he was a god.
"Arau!"
Their silence only fueled Hanzo's rage. Arau, the Captain of the Ame Anbu, felt the weight of the "god's" gaze settle on him.
Whoosh.
Just as the masked Arau began to sweat, his mind racing for a defensive explanation, an Anbu messenger flickered into the room behind them.
"Lord Hanzo! New intel has arrived."
The messenger knelt on one knee, holding a bamboo tube above his head with both hands.
Hanzo's eyes sharpened. In a flash, he was standing before the messenger, snatching the tube and pulling out the scroll.
"I see."
As his eyes scanned the brief line of text, a look of realization crossed Hanzo's face. He finally understood what Suna was so desperate about.
However...
His eyes narrowed as they lingered on the scroll. When his gaze locked onto the word "Senju," a predatory light flickered in his eyes.
He had given Konoha the "Sannin" title as a favor; it was about time he collected some interest.
Besides, the Senju clan was in decline. One Tsunade was more than enough to act as the clan's legacy. They didn't need a second one to outshine the first.