Chapitre 56: Terrible day for Rain
The rain fell in a relentless curtain, each drops a cold pinprick against my skin. My black funeral robes clung to me, heavy with water. Around me, the crowd of shinobi stood in silence, faces shadowed beneath dripping hoods or tilted umbrellas and the dark rainy sky. All eyes were fixed on the large portrait of the Third Hokage.
I stood at the very edge of the gathering, half-hidden beneath the drooping branches of a tree. My hair hung limply over my face, strands sticking to my damp cheeks. Dark circles under my eyes.
A sigh escaped my lips, lost in the sound of raindrops hitting the ground. I didn't care about Lord Third. His death stirred nothing in me, though he did get what was coming to him.
"Ayumi," a familiar voice murmured beside me.
I glanced sideways to see Sakura, her green eyes soft with concern. "We haven't seen you in days. Are you... okay?"
I met her gaze briefly before looking away. "I'm fine," I replied, my voice hoarse and barely audible.
She hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but sensing the barrier between us. "If you need anything..."
"I'm fine," I repeated, more firmly this time.
"You're not the only one who lost someone," a quiet voice said from behind.
I turned to see Sasuke standing there, his expression unreadable. Rain trickled down his face, but he made no move to wipe it away.
"What do you want?" I asked, my tone devoid of emotion.
He studied me for a moment. "You look exhausted."
I gave a hollow laugh. "Thanks for the observation caption obvious."
Sasuke's eyes narrowed slightly. "I heard about your grandfather. I'm... sorry."
I clenched my jaw, the mention of him tightening the knot in my chest. "Yeah.. thanks..."
He shifted, seeming unsure of what to say next. The silence stretched between us, filled only by the incessant patter of rain.
Finally, I broke the silence. "Listen, Sasuke."
He looked at me expectantly.
"If you ever think about seeking out Orochimaru," I began, my voice steady but laced with a warning edge, "I'll kill you myself."
Confusion flickered across his face. "What are you talking about?"
I met his gaze head-on, his weariness mirrored in my eyes. "Just remember what I said."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away, my footsteps splashing through puddles forming on the muddy ground.
"Ayumi!" he called after me, but I didn't slow down instead I sped up with a flicker step.
As I weaved through the sea of black-clad figures, a few more familiar faces tried to catch my eye, Shikamaru, Ino, Hinata, and even Kakashi, but I avoided them all.
The village streets were nearly empty, the usual hustle subdued by the somber atmosphere as the rain fell.
Images flashed in my mind: my grandfather's final moments, the light fading from his eyes as he sacrificed himself. The power that had surged through me, the searing pain of awakening a new level of the Sharingan. I had seen this story unfold before and knew the paths that lay ahead for so many of us. Though much had changed because of what I've done still it felt at some points nothing had changed.
I stumbled into someone who was wearing a long black cloak, with bits of red. "Sorry," I said while not looking up, my eyes focused more on my own feet as I passed those two and kept walking.
I paused at the edge of the training grounds, the empty field stretching out before me. Rain pooled in shallow depressions, and the wooden targets stood untouched.
Exhaustion pulled at me, as I took a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs. I decided to head home I just wanted to lie down and disappear.
The relentless rain had drenched me completely by the time I finally stumbled into the entrance of my apartment building. Each step was a struggle, waterlogged fabric clinging to my skin, the chill of the droplets mingling with the warmth of my breath as it escaped in shaky puffs into the damp air. My hair hung heavy and matted against my forehead, water streaming down my face and pooling beneath my chin in small, shivering puddles by the time I reached my apartment door.
As I reached for my keys, my fingers felt numb and clumsy, fumbling with the metal in the dim light. The key slipped and clanged against the doorframe, a sharp, jarring sound that echoed in the silence of the rain-soaked day. I just needed to get inside, to shut the world out.
When the door clicked open, I was met with an unexpected sight. Izumi, who stood in the middle of my living room, her Anbu cat mask resting on the coffee table. She looked up from where she'd been pacing, her eyes locking onto mine.
"You're drenched," she said softly, her voice carrying a mix of concern and relief. "I was worried."
I blinked at her, unsure of how to respond. The moment she took a step toward me, I felt the cracks in my armor deepen.
"Izumi," I said, my voice wavering despite my best efforts. "You didn't have to come."
She didn't reply. Instead, she closed the distance between us, her arms wrapping around me in a hug so sudden and tight that it stole the breath from my lungs. I stiffened at first, instinctively trying to put up a front.
"Izumi..." My voice broke as the dam inside me gave way. My knees buckled, and she held me up as I clung to her, my body trembling violently. The sobs tore out of me, raw and guttural.
"I've got you," she whispered, her voice steady and calm despite the storm raging inside me. "Let it out."
I hated how weak I felt, but I couldn't stop. "I'm so angry," I choked out, my hands clutching at her shirt like it was the only thing keeping me anchored. "I'm mad at him, Izumi. I'm so mad."
She didn't ask who I meant. She didn't have to.
"I know," she murmured, her hand smoothing over my wet hair. "I know."
"The last thing I said to him—" My breath hitched as I tried to force the words out. "We fought. I was so angry, and now he's gone, and I can't—I can't take it back."
Her hold on me tightened, and I felt her steady heartbeat against my cheek. "He was your grandfather, Ayumi, but he was also my teacher. And he wasn't perfect. You have every right to feel what you're feeling."
I pulled back just enough to look at her, my face hot and sticky with tears. "Why does it hurt so much? I hated him for what he did....but it still hurts."
"Because you cared," she said simply. "Even when you didn't want to, you cared."
"Will you stay tonight?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be alone."
Her eyes softened, and she gave me a small nod. "Of course. I'll stay as long as you need."
I leaned into her again, my head resting against her shoulder. The apartment around us was quiet except for the distant sound of rain against the windows.
"Izumi," I said after a long silence, my voice steadying slightly. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me," she replied, her voice gentle. "That's what family is for."
**Two days ago, The Night after the attack**
The dimly lit lab beneath the Root headquarters smelled of antiseptic. The hum of machinery was constant, a soothing undertone to Danzo's work. He stood at the central console, his hands clasped behind his back as he observed the results of the latest tests on the glowing monitor before him. Rows of vials containing blood samples lined the sterile counters. Most were unremarkable, genetic data from countless subjects over the years, but one, in particular, held his attention.
The blood of Ayumi Kure.
"Interesting," Danzo murmured to himself, narrowing his single visible eye at the data streaming across the screen. "The Kure clan truly lived up to their reputation as the Taboo Clan."
Her DNA was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was a genetic tapestry, One that had the Uchiha, and Senju but also the enigmatic and ill-understood traits of the Kure clan itself. That clan had been eradicated years ago, thanks to his careful machinations and after today she would be the last surviving member of Kure main family.
"All according to plan," Danzo thought with satisfaction.
The faint creak of the reinforced door drew his attention. One of his Root operatives entered, the mask and dark uniform blending seamlessly into the shadowed room. The ninja knelt before him, silent and still, awaiting permission to speak.
"Report," Danzo ordered, his tone measured and cold.
"My lord," the operative began, his voice muffled by the mask. "It is done. Hayai Kure, the last significant obstacle to your efforts, has been eliminated. As anticipated, his actions during the recent conflict played directly into your strategy. He exhausted himself, ensuring he could not escape the trap laid for him."
Danzo nodded, satisfaction flickering in his expression. Hayai Kure had been a thorn in his side for far too long. A man of honor, strength, and sentimentality, qualities Danzo considered fatal flaws in a shinobi. It was no accident that Hayai had been driven into a situation where sacrifice was his only option.
"And the girl?" Danzo asked, his voice cutting through the air.
"She lives," the operative confirmed. "Her condition is fragile after the events with the Fourth Hokage's reanimated form, but she is intact. As per your orders, we have acquired additional blood samples. Fresher ones."
The operative held out a sealed vial, the crimson liquid within catching the faint glow of the monitor. Danzo stepped forward, taking it carefully and holding it up to the light.
"Good," he said, more to himself than the ninja.
With this, he would be able to continue his work. Ayumi Kure was more than a mere orphan. She was the culmination of decades of effort, planning, and manipulation.
Years ago, Danzo had orchestrated the meeting between Ayumi's mother and Izumi Uchiha's father, ensuring the fusion of Uchiha, Senju, and Kure's bloodlines. A one-night stand, carefully arranged and manipulated, had birthed what he considered his greatest achievement.
"Orochimaru obsesses over the wrong person," Danzo thought with disdain. Sasuke, for all his potential, was a product of a single lineage. Ayumi, however, represented something more.
Danzo turned back to the monitor, inserting the fresh blood sample into the analyzer. As the machine whirred to life, new readings appeared. He leaned in, his lone eye scanning the data.
The Uchiha markers were clear, their dominance evident in her Sharingan inheritance. The Senju traits balanced this, granting resilience and chakra reserves that far surpassed what was typical for her age.
And then there was something else.
Danzo's brow furrowed as an anomaly appeared on the screen. It wasn't Uchiha, Senju, or Kure. The readings fluctuated, the machine struggling to classify it. It was something foreign.
"What is this?" he muttered, adjusting the controls to focus on the unknown element. The data remained inconclusive, the readings erratic and untranslatable. Danzo's mind raced. Could it be a mutation? A remnant of some ancient bloodline? The Kure clan was known for marrying outside their clan.
The operative remained silent, awaiting further instructions. Danzo straightened, the wheels of his mind turning. This anomaly was a risk, but it was also an opportunity. If harnessed, Ayumi's potential could surpass even the greatest shinobi in history.
"The girl must be secured," Danzo said finally, his voice low and firm. "Her potential cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands."
"Understood," the Root operative replied, bowing before disappearing as silently as he had come.
Danzo turned back to the vial of blood, his fingers tightening around it. He had engineered her existence and orchestrated her very birth. Ayumi was his creation, whether she knew it or not. And like any creation, she would either serve her purpose or be destroyed.
His visible eye glinted in the dim light as he returned to his work. The unknown anomaly in her DNA was a puzzle he would solve. Whatever it was, it was his now.
For Danzo Shimura, there were no accidents, only plans.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone