The Second Shinobi World War raged across the continent, leaving destruction in its wake. The Land of Rain had become the battleground for rival villages, and the ceaseless downpour did little to wash away the blood staining its lands. Hidden in the shadows of this conflict, Renzo and Taji moved silently through the dense forest, observing the war unfold before them.
From a rocky ridge overlooking a clearing, they paused, their keen senses picking up an intense battle below. Three young Konoha shinobi stood against a single, imposing figure. Clad in dark armor, a respirator covering his face, and wielding a deadly kusarigama, there was no mistaking him—Hanzo of the Salamander, leader of Amegakure and one of the most feared shinobi of the era.
Taji narrowed his eyes, his voice low. "So that's the infamous Hanzo. The war has really drawn out all the legends."
Renzo gave a slow nod. "Observe carefully, Taji. Battles like these shape the future."
Below, the battle raged with deadly intensity. Hanzo moved like a phantom, his attacks swift and merciless. His kusarigama lashed out, forcing the Konoha trio to react instantly. Despite their exhaustion, they countered with remarkable skill.
Tsunade, the kunoichi, weaved between attacks, her fists striking like boulders as she balanced offense with medical ninjutsu. Orochimaru, serpent-like in his movements, struck with eerie precision, his eyes calculating every possible advantage. Jiraiya, wild but determined, unleashed powerful jutsu that turned the battlefield into a war zone of fire and earth.
Yet, despite their formidable abilities, Hanzo remained dominant. His speed, his mastery over the battlefield—it was clear why he had earned his fearsome reputation. With a single, fluid motion, he evaded an explosive tag and countered with a swift chain strike, sending all three crashing into the mud.
Taji clenched his fists. "They're going to lose."
Renzo, ever calm, did not move. "Not necessarily."
Despite their injuries, the three refused to yield. They struggled to their feet, breathing heavily, their gazes filled with unrelenting determination. They were no longer fighting simply to survive—they were fighting to win.
Jiraiya, eyes blazing, formed rapid seals, summoning a wall of flames that forced Hanzo back. Orochimaru took advantage, lunging forward with his blade, the attack almost imperceptible in the rain. In perfect synchronization, Tsunade drove her fist into the ground, sending a shockwave that shattered the battlefield. Rocks and debris exploded into the air, momentarily obscuring Hanzo's figure.
When the dust settled, Hanzo stood motionless. Then, to the trio's surprise, he raised a hand. "Enough."
They froze, awaiting his next move.
Hanzo's gaze swept over them, his voice solemn. "You three… have earned my respect. Surviving this battle alone proves your worth. From this day forward, you will be known as the Sannin of Konoha."
Silence followed, broken only by the falling rain. The battle had ended—not with death, but with recognition.
As the trio steadied themselves, Tsunade's eyes flickered toward the ridge where Renzo and Taji stood. Her brow furrowed, her gaze lingering on them. A memory stirred within her, faint but persistent.
"Wait…" she murmured, stepping forward. "I know you."
Taji smirked, arms crossed. "Took you long enough."
Renzo remained still, watching as the past met the present once more. Some connections, it seemed, could withstand even the ravages of war.