Aside from the descendants of Ōtsutsuki Chōgetsu, the main and branch families of the Ōtsutsuki clan were virtually extinct.
The word "virtually" was necessary because only one person remained alive: Ōtsutsuki Toneri. A child of five or six, born without eyes.
Toneri was of the branch family, but at this point, distinctions between main and branch were meaningless. The tragic irony was that despite all the Byakugan the branch family had assimilated, there wasn't a single spare pair. Granting Toneri a set of eyes should have been a simple task.
A child of that age, blind, most likely lacked the capacity for independent survival. Contemplating this, even Yūshin was moved to shed a single crocodile tear.
A short while later, Yūshin found Ōtsutsuki Toneri amidst the city's ruins.
"Who's there?"
He was curled up in a corner of a room. For his age, his vigilance was commendable.
"Describing it would be a hassle. See for yourself."
Yūshin thought for a moment, then decided to conduct a "fair trade" with the Ōtsutsuki branch family's last remnant—he had taken their massive Tenseigan, and now he would return a pair of Byakugan to their sole survivor.
One eye for two. A fair price, no deceit.
Yūshin placed a hand on Toneri's forehead. The boy flinched. He wanted to resist but couldn't move—not unwilling, but unable.
And then, Ōtsutsuki Toneri was granted sight. For the first time in his life, he saw the dim, monotonous lunar landscape. For the first time, he saw the face of another being like himself.
"Who are you? I know you're not from the branch family… and not the main family either…"
The novelty of sight overwhelmed his fear. Toneri became oddly calm, analytical.
"You can recognize everyone?"
Yūshin was mildly curious. From the boy's phrasing, Yūshin deduced he had used a process of elimination to identify him as a stranger.
"Yes. Everyone's footsteps and voices are easy to distinguish."
Toneri's words clarified two things. First, he was observant, his other senses likely sharpened by a lifetime in darkness. Second, the Ōtsutsuki population on the moon really was that small.
"You're not bad. Talented, even… Come with me. Staying here is pointless now."
"The war… what happened to the war?"
A child his age, still concerned with the lunar war.
"Hard to say how the war went. But I can tell you this: you're the last Ōtsutsuki on the moon. Come with me, or stay here guarding this mass grave. Your choice."
If Toneri chose to leave, Yūshin would take him. Surviving alone on the moon was a fate harsher than death—a punishment no child deserved.
Would Ōtsutsuki Toneri grow up to be a traitor? Yūshin didn't care. The Shinobi World was full of people who wanted to destroy it. One more made no difference.
If and when Toneri decided to end the world, they could deal with him then.
"Did everyone die?" Toneri asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. The tightness in his throat and the tremor in his body betrayed his true feelings.
Yūshin gave a more precise answer."The main family, and every member of the branch family except you, are dead."
Having answered, Yūshin had no interest in further questions. He simply turned and walked away.
If Toneri chose to stay, so be it. With eyes, he at least wouldn't starve. The clan's remaining supplies would last him to adulthood.
The child's mind wrestled with the decision. Follow a stranger? Stay? But as Yūshin's figure grew smaller, an immense, crushing loneliness—a suffocating void—enveloped him.
He had no time to process what "everyone died" truly meant. Everything around him screamed, propelling his small legs forward. He ran, catching up to Yūshin's retreating back.
Toneri might have been perceptive and logical, but no one should overestimate a child's psychological resilience.
Yūshin had offered a chance. The boy had instinctively grabbed it. Only when he was close did Yūshin open a spatial portal.
When they emerged into the pocket dimension and Ōtsutsuki Kokugen's family saw them, their calm facades cracked with poorly concealed anxiety.
"Lord Gan! What is the situation outside?"
Yūshin pushed Toneri toward them, his tone deceptively flat as he delivered the brutal truth."Him included, that makes ten. Ten people. That is the complete Ōtsutsuki clan as it stands now."
Kokugen stared, blank. It took a moment for the words to sink in."You… I… We… Only us left?""Yes. So there's nothing left to cling to on the moon. Perhaps it's time to look forward?"
Let the history of the "Ōtsutsuki clan" stay history. They weren't the real Ōtsutsuki anyway.
The moon might hold valuable artifacts, but Yūshin saw no point in scavenging. When he opened the next portal, its exit was not on the moon, but in Konoha.
Earthly beings could never truly become celestial ones. A thousand years ago, Hamura and his descendants ascended to the moon. A millennium later, his descendants returned to Earth. A cycle of sorts—though the numbers for the "ascent" and the "descent" had been brutally reduced. Still, a small, stable landing counted as a landing.
Back in Konoha, deep within the Fireflies headquarters, Yūshin summoned Haguromo Genki to a secure chamber.
Even the Hokage had to respect social norms. Yūshin was older and of higher seniority; he couldn't be expected to go see the Hokage. Besides, parading around with a group of white-eyed shinobi was inadvisable.
"Lord Yūshin, who are these people? Please don't tell me these are Hyūga clansmen who've been living abroad?"
Seeing so many unfamiliar faces with Byakugan naturally put Genki on edge. Hyūga outside Konoha? Had someone been practicing risk dispersion by not keeping all their eggs in one basket?
"Something like that. For the specifics, you can ask them yourself. How to arrange their lives from now on is for you, the Hokage, to decide."
Yūshin had no desire to explain. He was just the bridge. The details were for the two parties to discuss.
After a brief introduction, Yūshin left, giving them space.
Over two hours later, Haguromo Genki finally emerged from the chamber. She looked dazed, as if her mind had been forcibly stuffed with a pile of absurd, impossible knowledge.
"How do you feel? Any thoughts?" Yūshin asked.
"Like I need time to digest it all, Lord Yūshin. I feel like I just listened to a two-hour-long myth… the most far-fetched kind."
Genki hadn't fully processed the new information. Her thoughts were a jumble. But one thing was certain: precisely because their story was so utterly bizarre, it carried the ring of truth.
"If you think carefully about a common phenomenon, you'll know they're telling the truth," Yūshin said. "What are the Tailed Beasts, truly? Where did they come from? Why can they be resurrected?"
The tale of the Sage of Six Paths and the Ōtsutsuki sounded outrageous, yet it provided a disturbingly logical explanation for the existence of Tailed Beasts. Its veracity was hard to outright deny. From the Ten-Tails to the nine beasts, it all connected.
"So… the Sage of Six Paths was real?""Yes.""And right now, someone in the Shinobi World is plotting to revive this so-called Ten-Tails? Even its husk has been stolen?""Correct.""Let me… process this. You're saying the Shinobi World faces an existential crisis, and I had no idea?""It's not too late to know now. You can begin preparing—mentally and materially.""Can't we snuff it out in its cradle?""No. Conspirators hide in shadows. We can't find them… Understand this yourself. Make covert preparations. But don't show your hand openly, or Konoha becomes their primary target."
Yūshin answered her questions, but not with the complete truth. He wanted Kaguya to revive. How else could her problem, and the problems she spawned, be permanently solved? A story spanning a thousand years needed a definitive end.
"I understand, Lord Yūshin. I will not act rashly… I will arrange suitable accommodations for these Ōtsutsuki clansmen."
Genki understood the value of intelligence and initiative. Faced with a world-spanning conspiracy, she chose extreme caution—if only for the sheer intelligence value the Ōtsutsuki possessed, they would be treated well. In a way, Konoha became the first village to begin preparing for the Fourth Shinobi World War.
Within the Amenominakanushi, Yūshin's clone played the diligent gardener, tending to the God Tree.
Having consumed two "ultimate supplements," the energy radiating from the tree had grown palpably more terrifying. The power and energy density of a weapon-grade Tenseigan were no joke—it was a device capable of obliterating the moon, even the planet's surface.
Hamura's descendants weren't pure-blooded Ōtsutsuki, but their numbers and the millennia they spent gathering power amounted to something significant. Many hands make light work, and many eyes over many years make a formidable weapon.
Still, the God Tree was a perennial woody plant. Maturing, flowering, and fruiting required time.
The clone was exceptionally stable, able to persist as a gardener indefinitely.
After absorbing the Tenseigan's energy, the God Tree's suction had noticeably intensified. In a sense, it was now draining energy from the various sub-dimensions of the Amenominakanushi, causing steady, irreversible damage to each realm.
"Good. The growth rate is satisfactory. The rate of chakra fruit formation is just slightly faster than the movements of those lurking in the shadows…"
The clone toured the sub-dimensions. Observing the environmental changes confirmed the God Tree's robust development. A God Tree grows by draining planetary energy. Planted in the core dimension, it siphoned energy from all connected realms. As it grew, those environments would naturally degrade.
Specifically: the Ice Dimension grew less frigid. The Sand Dimension less arid. The Lava Dimension less blistering. The Acid Sea Dimension less corrosive. The Gravity Dimension less crushing…
As it absorbed their pure, foundational energies, the wondrous sub-dimensions began to "normalize." They would lose their unique properties, eventually devolving into useless, empty spaces.
No need to guess. When Kaguya awoke, she'd find her personal domains had been thoroughly ransacked.
In this timeline, Shimura Danzō died early. But the tragedy was, he didn't die early enough.
With various parties playing their parts, the pieces on Black Zetsu's board continued moving along their designated path.
On one hand, Yūshin waited for the God Tree to bloom. On the other, he couldn't let events spiral completely out of control. His solution: infiltrate the enemy.
Land of Rain. Deep within Amegakure.
No one could have foreseen it. The famous leader of Amegakure, Hanzō of the Salamander, lay on the ground like a dead dog. His death remained unknown… except to the "culprits."
"Pain" (Deva Path), Konan, and the masked man stood in the room, faces impassive. None felt the sweet rush of vengeance. They only felt like they'd buried a pile of filth.
"The stumbling block is removed. Time to execute my proposal, don't you think?"
The masked man cared even less about Hanzō's death than the others. He'd helped as a favor to Nagato. His own plan was all that mattered.
"Your idea has merit. But I move at my own pace. First, be patient. Second, do not presume to give me orders."
Nagato's voice, channeled through the Deva Path, was cold.
The masked man stared at those indifferent Rinnegan. Irritation flared, but he had no grounds to refute."Then I await the day you truly begin the plan… Leader."
Sarcasm laced his tone. Then, his figure vanished from the spot.
"That man is not to be trusted, Pain."
Once he was gone, Konan couldn't help but voice her concern.
"I know, Konan…""Now… I will gather my own strength."
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