Outside the Mountain Graveyard.
Rinjin stood beneath the swirling snow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he muttered to himself.
"Uchiha Madara really seems clueless about all this... Could it be that Black Zetsu is pulling strings behind his back? That doesn't add up! Doesn't that guy want to save his mother anymore? Why's he picking a fight with me?"
As he grumbled, a sly grin tugged at Rinjin's lips—he'd just had a flash of inspiration.
From Black Zetsu and Uchiha Madara's perspective, it was downright suspicious that he knew so much about their plans. How could someone without Sharingan possibly be aware of the Eye of the Moon Plan? And how would he know about the Rinnegan, a legendary power spoken of only in myths? Not to mention, he'd managed to snatch away the original White Zetsu with pinpoint precision.
Those smokescreens he'd released back then had a purpose: to make Madara and Black Zetsu question his origins, to shift their suspicions onto him. His second goal? To buy more time and slow their progress.
Now, it looked like Black Zetsu had unwittingly helped him achieve a third objective.
Perfect! Black Zetsu was practically doing him a favor.
Someone who inexplicably knew his secret plans—Black Zetsu would be three hundred percent on guard. After all, his very existence could throw their entire scheme off course. So naturally, figuring out how to counter him would become Black Zetsu's top priority. And to counter someone, you first had to dig up their past.
With that thought, Rinjin felt a surge of anticipation.
Watching Black Zetsu weave his webs behind Madara's back, it seemed the guy might have already uncovered the true origins of his so-called "immortality."
Heh~ Looks like the fruit is ripe for the picking.
Honestly, Rinjin wasn't all that obsessed with where his immortality came from. But if someone else wanted to run around investigating for him, well, he could hardly refuse.
Still, it paid to be cautious. If Black Zetsu did find some way to counter him, it'd be a disaster to get tripped up now.
Running through his plans, Rinjin strode off into the distance, his muttering swept away by the howling northern wind.
"Sometimes, enemies are even more useful than friends..."
...
Deep underground, Uchiha Madara sat examining the soft cushion with a look of utter seriousness.
He wasn't worried about any Flying Thunder God seals—he knew exactly what kind of person Rinjin was. Sometimes, your enemies understood you better than your friends ever could.
Madara knew Rinjin well. The guy never did anything for free, and his schemes were as deep as the ocean. Did he really come all this way just to drop off a few gifts? Maybe that was just one part of his plan. There had to be something more.
As he kneaded the cushion, Madara suddenly felt something stiff beneath his fingers—a slip of paper.
The corners of his withered lips twitched ever so slightly.
That little bastard—he was up to something, just as expected.
He found the zipper Rinjin had left on the side, unzipped it, and fished out the note. Casting a furtive glance around and seeing all the White Zetsu huddled in the corners, he slowly pulled the slip free.
A moment later, he snorted.
On the paper, it read: "Would someone as proud as you really stoop to petty theft?"
Impossible! he thought, firm as steel.
His face betrayed nothing. At his age, keeping his emotions hidden was second nature—except, of course, when dealing with that infuriating brat.
After reading the note a few more times, Madara conjured a spark of flame and burned it to ash, then closed his eyes in thought.
One thing was certain: that brat had left the message for him to find. Was it meant as mockery? No need—Rinjin's earlier provocations were more than enough, and he wasn't so foolish as to keep poking the bear.
So what was he after?
A strange feeling gnawed at Madara. It was almost as if the kid was trying to warn him. Back in Hidden Mist Village, Rinjin had dropped hints, too.
Eyes closed, Madara let his mind drift back to those events three or four years ago: the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, the underground base, startup funds, Hidden Mist, the Rinnegan, the original White Zetsu...
The original White Zetsu! Rinjin had taken it, but left Black Zetsu behind!
Suddenly, it felt like a piece of the puzzle snapped into place.
The words from the note echoed in his mind: "Would someone as proud as you really stoop to petty theft?"
He wasn't talking about me—he meant my will's incarnation.
Black Zetsu?
He's saying Black Zetsu is the real thief?
That's it! My will's incarnation inherited my thoughts and pride; it'd never stoop to such underhanded tricks!
But then again, you could never fully trust anything Sakuhō Rinjin said.
A thin slit opened in Madara's eyes, his transplanted three-tomoe Sharingan spinning rapidly.
"If that's the case, then I, Uchiha Madara..."
The north wind howled, swallowing his words.
...
Hidden Stone Village.
Rinjin crouched atop the Tsuchikage's building, gazing down at the fortress-like village below.
Despite the late hour, Hidden Stone was far from quiet: ANBU darted through the darkness, lights flickered here and there, and the clang of metalwork rang through the night. All of it hinted at a restless tension simmering beneath the village's calm surface.
Perched on the rooftop like a night owl, Rinjin kept a sharp eye on the village.
Looks like Hidden Stone's begging for trouble.
According to intel from the front lines, the entire village was pulling back its defensive lines, shrinking its perimeter—and their defenses were almost completely separated from Konoha's.
That was anything but normal.
With Ōnoki's personality, he'd never loosen his grip unless he'd gotten something out of it. So what was driving him to pull back now? Was he hiding his true strength, waiting to swoop in at the last moment? Or was there another target?
Piecing it all together, Rinjin started to see the bigger picture.
A huge number of Hidden Mist sleeper agents had been rooted out, yet the bounty stations had no intel on it. That meant Mist's information network was seriously compromised. Add in the Third Mizukage's history...
Rinjin winced. Don't tell me that guy's under genjutsu control again?!
Could Madara be planning to reactivate Mist as a secret base?
It was possible. With White Zetsu's scouting skills, it'd be easy to sniff out the Mist's hidden agents. Then Black Zetsu could pin the blame on him for the purge.
Smart move.
Good thing he'd left a Flying Thunder God seal on that little coin back then! Otherwise, he wouldn't know what hit him until trouble was at his doorstep.
Sometimes, hiding in the shadows really was the smartest play.
Grinning, Rinjin patted himself on the shoulder and muttered, "Rinjin, you really are something else."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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