The pale white head sank completely into the soil, vanishing as if swallowed whole by the earth itself. Deep underground, White Zetsu's body flowed like liquid through narrow cracks in the rock, swiftly retreating with the intelligence he had just overheard.
Far away, in a cavern buried beneath the surface, Uchiha Madara sat unmoving, his eyes closed. His skin was so deathly pale it was almost translucent, like paper stretched too thin. Yet, beneath those deeply wrinkled eyelids, an occasional flicker of red betrayed the truth—this decaying vessel still harbored a will that refused to die.
"Madara-sama."
Black Zetsu emerged from the shadows, his hoarse voice echoing off the stone walls, "That boy from the Akatsuki, Yahiko, plans to negotiate with Konoha."
Madara's lips curled into a dry, lifeless smile. "A foolish dreamer… Perfect. Idealists are easy to use."
With a rustle, White Zetsu burst from the ground, grinning like a child who'd overheard gossip. "Heard everything~ Yahiko's going alone to meet the Konoha shinobi. Says he wants to stop the war~!"
Rain dripped steadily from the cavern ceiling, each drop echoing like a heartbeat in the silence. Madara slowly opened his eyes. The tomoe in his Sharingan spun with chilling calm.
"Black Zetsu," he said coldly, "move up the timetable. Begin the 'Divide and Destroy' plan."
A low, eerie chuckle rumbled from Black Zetsu's chest. "So… the time has come? the chance to plunge Nagato into utter despair…"
"Hanzō's been too active lately," Madara rasped, voice like sand on stone. "We'll use Konoha's hand to eliminate him. Once Yahiko dies, make it look like it was a joint effort by Hanzō and Konoha. We'll shape the corpse to tell the story we want."
White Zetsu leapt excitedly. "Ooh! I'll go! I can disguise myself as one of Konoha Anbu!"
"Idiot," Madara snapped, his tone like a blade. "Isn't the leader of Konoha's Root already in contact with Hanzo? Send him a message under Hanzo's name. Make sure he participates in this operation to eliminate the Akatsuki. That Konan girl's perceptive—she needs real proof, something she can find and believe."
Black Zetsu's grin widened. "Even better… let Yahiko die in front of Nagato. Let him watch as the person he cherishes most bleeds out, powerless to stop it. Only that kind of pain can awaken the true Rinnegan."
A cruel glint flashed through Madara's eyes. "Tell White Zetsu to keep constant surveillance on the Akatsuki. Once Yahiko sets out, ambush him in the canyon." His withered fingers tapped the stone throne with bone-dry clicks. "And make sure a few of them survive… to tell the story."
---
Outside Amegakure, Yahiko stood at the edge of a cliff, silent in the downpour. Cold rain traced lines down his face, slipping over the engraved metal of his forehead protector. Behind him, soft footsteps approached.
A single paper flower, pristine and dry despite the rain, floated onto his shoulder.
"Have you truly decided?"
Konan's voice was quiet, softer than the rain itself.
Yahiko didn't turn. He stared at the distant Konoha camp, shrouded beneath a sky thick with stormclouds. His orange hair clung to his forehead in wet strands, shifting with the wind.
"I have to go. If I don't even try to speak with them, then what's the point of our dream? I've looked into it—the commander of Konoha's forces on the Suna front is one of Jiraiya-sensei's fellow Sannin, Orochimaru. With that connection, it might not be too difficult."
Nagato stood silently in the shadows, the Rinnegan reflecting his friend's silhouette. He opened his mouth as if to say something but only tightened his grip around the kunai in his hand.
"I'll follow in secret," Nagato said quietly. "If anything goes wrong—"
"I'll be fine," Yahiko interrupted, turning to flash a bright, reassuring grin. "I'm the guy who's going to change the world, remember? I'm not going to die that easily."
He gave Nagato's shoulder a firm pat.
"Just wait for the good news."
Konan stepped forward, pressing a small bundle into Yahiko's hand. "These explosive tags are wrapped in oil paper. They won't get soaked."
Their gazes met. For a brief, silent moment, they all smiled. Hope flickered between them like a fragile flame.
None of them noticed the faint blur of white vanishing between cracks in the rocks.
---
The rain fell harder.
Yahiko walked alone along a muddy mountain trail, the rain growing heavier with each step. His clothes were already drenched, the cold seeping into his skin—but his eyes remained sharp, alert.
Then, without warning, he stopped.
There it was—an odd flicker in the flow of chakra behind the rocks. An unnatural stillness in the air.
"Come out."
His voice was low, commanding.
"This ambush is far too crude."
Dozens of shinobi emerged from the cliffs, surrounding him in a tight formation. The leader wore a breath mask—the mark of Hanzō's personal enforcers.
"You Akatsuki brat," the masked ninja sneered. "Hanzō-sama saw through your treachery from the start."
Yahiko's pupils constricted. "Treachery? I came to stop the war!"
"Colluding with the enemy is treason!" the shinobi barked, signaling his team. Countless kunai flew toward Yahiko at once. "Kill him!"
He moved instantly—hands flying into seals.
"Water Style: Water Formation Wall!"
A surge of water rose to block the volley.
Using the opening, he leapt onto higher ground, his gaze scanning his surroundings, his mind in turmoil—Why would Hanzo suddenly turn on him?
"Hanzō-sama wouldn't act without reason!" Yahiko shouted. "Who the hell are you?!"
The Amegakure shinobi gave no reply, but in their eyes flashed a strange emptiness. But in that moment, Yahiko noticed something that made his blood run cold—beneath their skin, something white squirmed.
"No… this isn't right…"
They're not rain ninja.
Alarm bells exploded in Yahiko's mind. He stopped trying to fight back and instead focused all his chakra into escape.
He had to survive. He had to get back. Someone was orchestrating a rift between Hanzo and Akatsuki from the shadows—Nagato and Konan were in danger!
But just as he gained speed, the ground burst open beneath his feet.
Dozens of white, grotesque humanoid figures shot upward, laughter high-pitched and shrill.
"You can't run~ you can't run~"
"What the hell are these things?!"
Yahiko's voice trembled with disbelief as he stared at the half-plant monsters grinning back at him.
---
High above, hidden among the rocks at the canyon's rim, Root members crouched in stillness.
"Orders from Danzō-sama are clear," the captain whispered. "Observe only. Do not engage."
One of the team frowned. "Something's wrong. Those white beings… their chakra isn't human."
Before anyone could react, a blur of black shot through the shadows.
A choking gasp.
The outermost Root member looked down, stunned, at the black spike that had pierced straight through his chest.
"Enemy—!"
The leader tried to shout, but it was too late. More spikes followed—ruthless, unerring. In seconds, the entire squad lay lifeless.
Black Zetsu's form rose from the earth like a vengeful spirit. His twisted grin gleamed in the rain.
"Just as Madara-sama predicted… Root really did show up."
---
In the canyon, Yahiko was fighting for his life.
Blood trailed from his arms and shoulders. His body ached. The creatures kept coming—endless, grotesque, emotionless.
"I have to get out…!"
Gritting his teeth, he threw together another set of seals.
"Water Style: Great Exploding Water Colliding Wave!"
A roaring tide surged forth, slamming the white Zetsu aside and carving a narrow path.
Panting, Yahiko staggered forward, toward the canyon's exit.
Then—he heard it.
"Yahiko!"
He turned sharply.
Through the rain, Konan and Nagato were charging toward him, Akatsuki members at their side.
"You're here?! How—"
Schlick—
Relief turned into horror.
The Nagato in front of him drew a kunai and drove it straight into his stomach.
"Na…gato…"
His eyes widened as the warmth drained from his limbs.
The image in front of him began to ripple and fade. The face of his friend dissolved, melting into a pale, inhuman shape.
"A genjutsu…?"
---