Chương 41: Reactions
Rasa crouched behind the jagged rocks that towered above him, their sharp edges casting long shadows across the arid landscape. The vast desert stretched endlessly behind him, but ahead, the stony terrain changed, forming the spires that hid the small camp of Amegakure ninja. Thin trails of smoke rose from their fire, barely visible against the pale sky. Rasa's eyes narrowed as he studied the movements of the enemy shinobi, the wind carrying the scent of rain and sand, stinging his face.
He shouldn't be here. His mission ended when the Kazekage declared Souei and Chiyo killed in action. They were listed among the fallen, their bodies never found amidst the chaos of the battlefield.
But Rasa couldn't accept it. His best friend, Souei, wasn't dead—not without proof. He refused to believe it until he saw Souei's lifeless form with his own eyes. The official reports didn't sit right with him, and so he was here, defying orders, chasing a thin thread of hope into Amegakure's domain.
Rasa's fingers traced the map folded in his lap, eyes scanning the path he had memorized. Based on the terrain and the position of enemy patrols, there was only one direction Souei could have taken to escape: north, toward Amegakure.
He knew his friend well—Souei would have fled into the dangerous heart of the Rain Village rather than face the Iwa shinobi again. Hanzo the Salamander ruled that region with an iron fist, and even the Tsuchikage would hesitate to stir conflict in his domain. It was a risky choice, but for Souei, it was a calculated one
Under the cover of night, Rasa had slipped past the Suna camp, evading sentries and patrols with ease, the rhythmic beat of his heart keeping time with his silent footsteps. His senses were on high alert as he moved through the desolate landscape. Every rock and crevice seemed to hide a threat, but his focus remained unyielding.
It was when he was running across a ravine that someone flickered beside him, her figure blending with the shifting hues of the desert at dusk. She wore the standard Suna ninja garb—light grey vest, black cloth, her presence as silent as his own.
She was part of his squad meant to infiltrate behind enemy lines and learn information to give back to Suna's intelligence. He found her to be a reliable ally, and someone that he would be glad to watch his back.
"Karura?!" Rasa hissed under his breath, his eyes widening in recognition. She was a chunin he had fought alongside during the Ame invasion, when he was tasked to lead a team to infiltrate behind enemy lines and learn information to give back to Suna's intelligence. Her long black hair was tied back, swaying in the wind.
"I'm here to help you!" Karura's voice was hushed but steady, her resolve unshakable. "Rasa-sama, you're going to rescue Souei-sama, right?"
His eyes widened as she guessed his intentions right away. "You realize that we are going against orders, right? If you do this, there's gonna be consequences."
Karura's lips curled into a soft smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Don't worry, I'm fully aware of what this entails. That's not gonna stop me."
"She's not the only one."
Another voice interrupted before Rasa could respond, stepping out of the shadows to his left with practiced ease. Her bright orange hair stood out against the muted colors of the landscape, and her dark green kimono billowed in the wind.
"You are Tsumari." Rasa noted as the older woman crouched beside him.
"I've heard of your intentions. I am also here to help. Souei-dono saved my life, preventing my daughter from becoming an orphan. If there's any chance that he's still alive, I'm willing to do all it takes to help." She said in a resolute tone, earning a nod from Rasa.
This was certainly not what he had in mind, but he wouldn't say no to extra help. Tsumari was a powerful ninja with her Scorch Release, and Karura is a reliable ally to have in the field.
The edge of his lips curled slightly before it turned into a determined frown. "Let's go find him."
As the three set off under the darkening sky, Rasa's heart beat in time with his vow: he would find Souei, no matter what it took.
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The news hit like a kunai to the chest. The air inside the tent felt suffocating, and Rukia struggled to breathe as the words sunk in.
"Chiyo-sama and Souei Matsuri have been declared killed in action. They were last seen fighting the Tsuchikage and Roshi, the Yonbi Jinchuriki. After more than a week of no contact, the Kazekage has called it."
Rukia felt her world shatter, the impact so overwhelming she could hardly remain upright. She dug her nails into her palms, the pain grounding her, forcing her legs not to buckle beneath her. Her breath hitched in her throat, her heart thudding painfully as if refusing to accept what she'd just heard.
Her sensei, Ishito, who normally bore an emotionless facade, was pale. His mouth remained closed, yet his wide eyes told the story of what he was feeling. He, too, was in shock.
"I... see," Ishito finally murmured.. His hands gripped the edge of the table in front of him till his knuckles turned white. He couldn't bear to meet Rukia's eyes.
The tent seemed to blur around her as the messenger delivered his final words and left. The world outside carried on—shinobi passed by, the wind rustled through the camp, and the distant clatter of weapons training echoed. But inside the tent, time stood still.
All Rukia could think about was Souei. Souei, the boy with the sharp eyes and quiet determination. The boy she had known, laughed with, and—she realized with a pang—loved. Tears welled in her eyes, but she bit her lip hard to stop them from spilling. She couldn't cry, not here, not now. Not in front of anyone.
"Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to spy on you or anything. I was just in the area when I felt your presence and got curious. My name's Rukia, by the way. Rukia Hoku. It's nice to meet you!"
"It's... nice to meet you, too. I'm Souei Matsuri. Did you say your name was Hoku? As in, the Hoku clan?"
The memory rushed through her mind, unbidden and cruel. She remembered the first time she had spoken to him, a fleeting moment that had grown into something much deeper over time. How could someone who had become such a vital part of her life just be... gone?
She didn't wait for her sensei to say anything more. With a quick, desperate movement, she turned and ran, her footsteps heavy against the ground as she fled the tent. The concerned glances of passing shinobi blurred in her peripheral vision as she sprinted toward her personal quarters. The world outside felt distant, cold, and indifferent to her grief.
"Ne, Souei, you're also in class A at the academy, right? Let's have lunch together!"
The memory was so vivid, so real, that it nearly broke her. She reached her quarters and collapsed into her sleeping bag, burying her face in the soft fabric. This time, she couldn't stop the tears. They flowed freely as her body shook with sobs, her heart heavy with the weight of loss.
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Sasori stood motionless, staring at the pale, unconscious form of his friend. The stark white bandages wrapped around his right arm, now a stump, only emphasized the horror of what had happened. The ninja from the masked group that attacked their village had severed everything below his elbow, and now his friend lay there, helpless and broken.
He didn't know why he was here, standing at his friend's bedside. He felt numb, like a ghost moving on autopilot, his feet having carried him here without conscious thought.
And then came the news—news that he still couldn't fully comprehend.
Grandma Chiyo and Souei were both dead. Killed on the front lines.
The words echoed in Sasori's mind, each repetition dulling the world around him. His parents were already gone, taken by war. The pain of their deaths still lingered, raw and unhealed. And now, Souei too? His beloved brother-figure, his uncle… gone.
His hands moved to his head, gripping his hair as if trying to keep himself from falling apart. His usually sharp, bright eyes were hollow, a mere shadow of the child he had been.
Tears stung his eyes, and though he tried to suppress them, he couldn't hold back the sobs that came next. His body trembled violently as the reality of his losses crashed over him in waves of grief. He felt like he was drowning, every breath heavy and labored, his heart a twisted knot of sorrow.
He wanted to run to Grandpa Ebizo, but the old man was too busy, now serving as the village's temporary leader in the aftermath. Sasori couldn't blame him for locking away his own grief and focusing on the village's needs, but that left Sasori alone.
His grief, however, was soon accompanied by something darker. The tears slowed, replaced by a simmering rage, a cold fury that burned beneath his skin. He couldn't just sit and let this happen. He would make something of his pain.
Puppet-making. He would pour his grief, his anger, into his creations. His fingers itched for the tools, for the precision that the craft demanded. He would perfect it. Day by day, he would hone his skills, turning his sorrow into art. And maybe then, just maybe, he would fill the hollow void left in his heart.
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AN: It's been a damn long while, hasn't it? Almost a whole year since I've uploaded the last chapter.
I really apologize on how late this chapter came, I got quite busy doing my fairy tail fic and all my energy and brain-power went into that instead.
But I've been rewatching Naruto this past week and the urge to continue this got brighter, so here I am.
A shorter chapter, but one that's needed as we push into the next phase of the story.
Chapter 42 is available for those of you interested. Available in my patreon as usual.
Hope you enjoyed it.
Cheers!
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