"This… is Kirigakure."
Kyoichi came to a halt.
Before him, at the foot of the hill, sprawled a vast settlement — so vast that the word village seemed too small for it. To Kyoichi's eyes, this was no mere cluster of houses, but a true city, much like Iwagakure. Calling it a "village" hardly did it justice.
Like Iwagakure, Kirigakure was nestled deep within a range of rolling mountains. The surrounding peaks rose in countless shapes and sizes, jagged and strange — yet unlike the barren, stone-gray peaks around Iwagakure, these mountains were lush with life. Even the sheer cliffs shimmered with green, cloaked in moss and vines.
And atop the round, pillar-like towers that dotted Kirigakure's skyline, one could even see patches of grass and small trees flourishing — like miniature forests reaching for the misty sky.
"Yes," said Anjō Oniyuzu, coming to a stop beside him. "This is Kirigakure. What do you think? How does it compare to Iwagakure?"
"For one thing," Kyoichi replied with a faint smile, "people here don't seem to need to worry about running out of water."
"Hah! Water shortage? In Kirigakure? That's one thing we've never experienced!" Oniyuzu let out a booming laugh.
"In Iwagakure," Kyoichi continued, "water shortages are common. Every household keeps water jars and barrels filled to the brim, just in case of a sudden water cut. Those who can afford it even dig wells. Water is a precious resource there — part of daily life."
"I can hardly imagine that," said Biwa Jūzō, scratching his head. "Running out of water? I've never seen that happen. Not here, not in the Land of Fire, nor in the Land of Rivers or the Land of Waves — all of them have plenty of water."
"If possible," Kyoichi said quietly, "you'd best never have to find out what that feels like."
"True enough," Oniyuzu nodded gravely. "The taste of thirst is no small suffering… and when you're forced to drink your own urine to stay alive — that's when it truly turns miserable."
"Eh? Don't tell me, Elder Oniyuzu—you actually did that?"
Jūzō's eyes widened in disbelief.
"I once took a mission in the Land of Wind," Oniyuzu replied calmly. "We were surrounded in the desert, cut off from supply. When our water ran out, we drank urine. When that was gone, we were ready to drink blood. Had reinforcements not arrived, we wouldn't be standing here today."
"…You've really been through it, Elder," Jūzō muttered — rare respect in his tone.
"Hmph! For a true shinobi, such things are nothing," Oniyuzu said indifferently.
A shinobi's life was lived dancing on the edge of a blade.
Compared to death, what was drinking urine?
"Enough about that," Oniyuzu said, waving a hand. "We're not here to reminisce. Come — the Mizukage is waiting."
He quickened his pace, urging Kyoichi and Jūzō forward. The three of them continued along the wide road, descending toward the city below.
Before long, they reached the main gate.
Massive gray-white stone walls coiled around the village like a slumbering dragon, its head and tail meeting to form a perfect circle. The walls stood nearly twenty meters high; anyone wishing to enter or leave had to climb over them — or pass through the towering archway that pierced the front.
At that moment, a steady stream of people and carriages flowed in and out of the gate. Shinobi wearing Kirigakure headbands and tactical vests stood at the entrances, maintaining order and checking registries.
The moment Oniyuzu and his party appeared, the guards took notice.
"Elder Oniyuzu!"
The squad leader hurried over, alerted by his men.
"Don't block the way," Oniyuzu ordered curtly. "Leave someone here to register us — the rest, keep moving."
At his command, one of the escorting shinobi stepped aside to handle the paperwork, while the rest followed Oniyuzu straight through the archway.
Once past the gate, Kyoichi found himself within the heart of Kirigakure.
It wasn't what he had imagined. There were no winding canals or boats ferrying people through misty waterways. Instead, broad streets stretched ahead, lined with shops, stalls, and the lively hum of daily life.
The air was filled with chatter and laughter, the clatter of wheels, the scent of cooked food drifting through the mist.
For some reason, Kyoichi felt… happy.
Humans were social creatures.
Those who lived apart from others were either gods—or beasts.
Though he longed for the day he could transcend his humanity, right now he was still human. His body was young, his heart still warm — and a scene like this, full of life and bustle, stirred something deep within him.
After so long adrift at sea, this sudden return to civilization made his chest ache with a strange relief.
"…It's wonderful," he murmured.
They were passing a restaurant when the aroma of grilled fish and broth reached his nose, drawing the words out of him.
"Kyoichi, you hungry?" Jūzō asked.
Oniyuzu turned as well, smiling. "If you can, hold on a little longer. Once we're done meeting the Mizukage, Jūzō can take you to enjoy some of Kirigakure's finest dishes."
"No need to worry," Kyoichi said with a small laugh. "I'm not hungry yet. I just… feel relieved. The days of running and hiding — they're finally over."
He let out a long breath.
Then, before the others could respond, he nodded ahead and asked, "Elder Oniyuzu — that building up ahead, the tall round one with the 'Water' plaque… that's the Mizukage Tower, isn't it?"
At the end of the misty road stood a seven-story cylindrical building. Hanging over its entrance was a great round sign — golden-edged, black-backed, with a bright blue kanji in the center: 水 — Water.