The Ninja Way by Juzo Biwa...
On a blood-mist-shrouded morning, I stood on the cliff of the highest Training Ground in Kirigakure, looking down at the village shrouded in morning mist.
The Kubikiribōchō lay diagonally embedded in the rock beside him, the undried blood on its blade gleaming eerily in the morning sun.
My name is Juzo Biwa. I am the youngest Jonin in Kirigakure and one of the best members of the first Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist of the Mist.
"Lord Juzo, the Mizukage summons you." A member of the Anbu knelt on one knee, his voice coming through the mask with a hint of reverence.
I drew my Kubikiribōchō, feeling the icy touch of the hilt.
This demonic sword, capable of self-repairing through blood absorption, is a symbol of my status among the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. Every nick on the blade is a medal I've filled with the blood of my enemies.
"I understand." I replied indifferently, slung the broadsword over my shoulder.
The sunlight reflecting off the blade shone on the scar on my left cheek, a mark left when I became Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist – a glory etched with the blood of my opponents.
Upon entering the Mizukage's Office, the other six Ninja Blades were already present.
Suikazan Fuguki's obese body occupied the largest space, his Samehada wriggling restlessly on his shoulders; Raiga Kurosuki toyed with his Raiga, lightning crackling at his fingertips; Munashi Jinpachi's Exploding Blade Shibuki exuded a dangerous aura.
"The Third Shinobi World War has begun," the Third Mizukage's voice echoed from the shadows. "Konoha and Iwagakure are locked in a stalemate on the front lines. This is the perfect opportunity for Kirigakure to expand its influence. Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, heed my command—immediately proceed to the border of the Land of Fire and destroy Konoha's supply lines."
A cold smile curled at the corner of my lips. Finally, I had the chance to let the Kubikiribōchō drink the blood of Konoha Ninja.
Seven figures gathered in front of the gates of Kirigakure. I glanced at my companions; these were Kirigakure's most elite warriors, each capable of taking on a hundred men.
"Juzo, don't steal my head this time." Kushimaru Kuriarare grinned sinisterly, his long sword, Nuibari, gleaming coldly in his hand.
"Let's see who can get their blade dull first," I said, patting my executioner's Kubikiribōchō.
Like seven ghostly figures, we traversed the dense forests of the Land of Water, crossed the turbulent sea, and silently infiltrated the heart of the Land of Fire.
All that remained in their path were corpses and terror— Konoha patrols, border outposts, caravan guards—no one could stop the advance of the Seven Demon Blades.
It was a gloomy afternoon when we discovered three Konoha Genin in the forest.
A young man with thick eyebrows wearing a green bodysuit, a boy with Senbon in his mouth, and a pretentious kid wearing sunglasses. They all bore injuries, clearly having just returned from a mission.
"What pitiful little insects." Jinin Akebino, carrying a blunt sword and armor, grinned cruelly. "Let me crush them."
"Wait a minute." I raised my hand to stop him, "Anyway, the mission is already accomplished, let's find some fun."
With seven top-tier ninjas facing off against three Genin, the outcome should have been a foregone conclusion.
But we chose the cat-and-mouse game, enjoying their desperate struggle. The boy with the thick eyebrows carried his injured companion and ran for his life, while the other two tried to cover their retreat—foolish courage.
"That's about enough." When I saw one of the boys, nearly exhausted of Chakra, collapse to his knees, I raised my Kubikiribōchō. "It's time to end this."
Just then, an astonishing burst of Chakra erupted from the forest. Trees were overturned by the shockwave, and the ground began to tremble.
A middle-aged man dressed in the same ridiculous green bodysuit appeared before us, his eyes—those eyes burning with a determination I had never seen before.
"The Eight Gates Released Formation - Open!"
At that moment, time seemed to stand still.
I heard the terrified curses of the Suikazan Fuguki and saw the thunder blade of the Raiga Kurosuki tremble for the first time.
The man was enveloped in crimson steam, his skin began to crack, yet he exuded a chilling power.
"Scatter!" I shouted, but it was too late.
The first to fall was Munashi Jinpachi. Before the Exploding Blade Shibuki could even detonate, a punch pierced through his chest.
Next was Jinin Akebino, whose Blunt Sword Kabutowari, supposedly capable of withstanding any attack, was torn to shreds like paper. Kushimaru Kuriarare attempted to bind his opponent with his Nuibari, but was kicked in two, sword and all.
"This is impossible!" I heard myself scream. I swung the Kubikiribōchō with all my might, but it was caught by my opponent with one hand. The blade groaned under the strain, and for the first time, I felt the fear of this demonic sword.
In just a few minutes, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist were routed.
I, Suikazan Fuguki, and Raiga Kurosuki managed to escape, but the other four were all killed. The man named Might Duy eventually died from exhaustion, but he single-handedly destroyed Kirigakure's most elite force.
"Konoha... actually harbors such a monster." On the way back to the base, Suikazan Fuguki's fat trembled incessantly, Samehada shrank into a small ball.
I looked down at my hands; they were still trembling uncontrollably.
The Kubikiribōchō was covered in cracks, as if mocking my past arrogance. That battle shattered my understanding of power—true strength lies not in cruelty, but in the will to protect.
Upon returning to Kirigakure, we were secretly placed to recuperate. The Third Mizukage was furious but helpless, and the invasion plan was forced to be terminated.
But what's even more terrifying is that strange changes have begun to occur within the village. The policies of the Bloody Mist Village have suddenly been strengthened, graduation exams have turned into students killing each other, and even Jonin have begun to mysteriously disappear.
Until one day, while on a mission, I happened to witness the incongruity of the Fourth Mizukage Karatachi Yagura's actions.
"Genjutsu... Someone is controlling the Mizukage." I realized that Kirigakure was being corrupted by some kind of power. When I told Suikazan Fuguki about this discovery, the greedy fat man revealed a sinister smile.
"Juzo, there are some things the less you know, the better." His hand rested on Samehada, the implication clear.
That night, I packed a few simple belongings, my only companion being the Kubikiribōchō. Raiga Kurosuki was waiting for me in the woods outside the village, the Raiga gleaming blue in the rainy night.
"You noticed it too?" he asked.
I nodded. "Kirigakure is no longer our home."
Two former Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist of the Mist have now become missing-nin being hunted down.
We struggle to survive in the darkest corner of the Shinobi World, facing not only the hostility of other ninja villages but also constant vigilance against the pursuit of the Kirigakure's assassination squad.
The bloodstains on the Kubikiribōchō grew thicker and thicker, yet my vision of my path became increasingly blurred.
Until that rainy night, a man dressed in Akatsuki cloak appeared before me.
"Juzo Biwa, the Akatsuki needs your strength." His Rinnegan glowed eerily in the darkness.
"Why should I believe you?" I gripped my Kubikiribōchō tightly.
"Because only we can give you true belonging." He reached out his hand. "In this world full of lies, we seek genuine change."
And so, I joined the Akatsuki, codenamed "South." The members were all missing-nin from various villages, each burdened with a dark past. We distrusted each other yet were forced to cooperate, hiding our true selves behind masks.
When the leader assigned me to partner with Uchiha Itachi, I resisted. The Mangekyō Sharingan in the eyes of that clan annihilator reminded me of the power to control the Mizukage. But an order is an order.
"Don't hold me back, kid." That's what I warned him when we first met.
Itachi merely glanced at me calmly, his eyes concealing unfathomable darkness.
Strangely, in subsequent missions, this rumored cold-blooded and ruthless genocider displayed unexpected restraint. He never indiscriminately killed innocent people, and would even observe a moment of silence for the dead after completing a mission.
"Why were they wiped out?" During a break in a mission, I finally couldn't help but ask.
Itachi gazed at the distant moon, his voice almost inaudible. "Some choices are more painful than death."
I stopped asking. In this twisted world, everyone has wounds they don't want to touch.
Gradually, we developed a tacit understanding. He was in charge of Genjutsu and intelligence, while I was responsible for direct attacks. The Kubikiribōchō and Tsukuyomi, two completely different powers, complemented each other perfectly on the battlefield.
"Mr. Juzo, your swordsmanship is quite unique." Itachi remarked after a battle, a rare occurrence for him.
"Just killing someone, nothing special." I wiped the blood off the knife.
"No, every strike was precisely calculated to minimize the opponent's pain." He looked at me. "This isn't like the legendary Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist of the Mist."
I was stunned. This boy's observations were so meticulous. Yes, ever since my defeat by Might Duy, my swordsmanship had changed. Killing was no longer the goal, but a means. But I refused to acknowledge this weakening change.
"Stop trying to be clever, kid."
However, fate is always full of irony.
When we received the mission to go to Kirigakure, I could have refused. Returning to that dangerous place teeming with pursuers would have been suicide. But some inexplicable obsession drove me to accept the mission—perhaps I wanted to see with my own eyes what my former hometown had become.
The Kirigakure was even more sinister than I remembered. Under the Blood Mist Policy, the village was deathly still, and pedestrians hurried past with their heads down, not daring to make eye contact with anyone.
We infiltrated disguised as merchants, but unexpectedly encountered the patrol team of the Fourth Mizukage, Karatachi Yagura, in the port area.
"Have we been found out?" I asked in a low voice.
Itachi's Sharingan darted around. "It doesn't seem like it's targeting us; it's just a routine check. But it'll be difficult to keep hiding."
"Let's split up and meet at the usual place." I made the decision.
However, just as we were preparing to leave, Yagura suddenly turned in our direction, his eyes filled with a clear sense of death.
"Intruder!" His childish voice was completely out of place with his status.
The battle erupted instantly. Itachi's Genjutsu had limited effect on Sharingan, who also controlled Yagura, while I was surrounded by a large number of Anbu.
The Kubikiribōchō swung across the familiar streets, each strike reminding me of the glory I once shared as a member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
"Mr. Juzo, watch out!" Itachi's warning snapped me back to reality. Yagura had already Partial Tailed Beast Transformation, Tailed Beast Bomb was forming in his mouth.
Itachi stepped forward to fight Yagura, but was accidentally struck by Yagura's Coral Palm, instantly immobilizing him.
The Tailed Beast Bomb was aimed at the immobilized Itachi. In that moment, I didn't think; my body acted before my consciousness. With the Kubikiribōchō held horizontally in front of me, I charged towards that destructive energy with all my might.
"Juzo Biwa! You—" Itachi's voice was drowned out by the explosion.
The moment the Kubikiribōchō collided with the Tailed Beast Bomb, I felt an unprecedented impact. The blade frantically absorbed energy, and cracks spread rapidly. This demonic sword, which had accompanied me for half my life, had finally reached its limit.
Click--
The moment the blade shattered, I was thrown back by the immense impact. The broken blade rebounded and pierced deep into my chest. I fell into a pool of blood and saw Itachi break free of Sango's restraints, then use Amaterasu to defeat the Mizukage.
My vision began to blur, and blood stained everything before me. The excruciating pain in my chest had become numb; only the cold ground reminded me that my life was slipping away.
The broken fragments of the Kubikiribōchō were scattered all around. The demonic blade that had once drunk countless lives had now come to an end, just like me.
The sounds of battle in the distance gradually subsided. I struggled to turn my eyes and saw Uchiha Itachi unleash black flames, Fourth Mizukage, Yagura.
Itachi's figure emerged from the smoke and dust. His Sharingan was still cold, but his steps were faster than usual as he ran towards me.
"Mr. Juzo!" His voice was unusually hurried.
He crouched down, his Chakra gathering at his fingertips, seemingly about to cast some kind of hemostatic technique. But when he saw my injuries, his fingers paused slightly before slowly lowering.
"You... killed the Mizukage?" I asked with difficulty, blood spilling from the corner of my mouth, my voice hoarse and unlike my own.
Itachi was silent for a moment, then whispered, "No, he's not dead yet."
I forced a ferocious smile, "Then... let's go!"
Itachi's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly: "But---"
"I'm beyond saving," I interrupted him, panting, "Even if you weren't medical-nin... you could tell, right?"
His gaze fell on my chest—a fragment of the Kubikiribōchō was deeply embedded in my heart, blood soaking through my black dawn robe. His eyes flickered slightly, then finally lowered. "... I'm sorry."
"Stop talking nonsense." I coughed, and more blood gushed out. "It's not your fault..."
Itachi was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke, "If there's anything you want to tell anyone... you can tell me."
I froze for a moment, then couldn't help but laugh, even though the action made my wound hurt more. "Idiot... there's no such person."
But as soon as I said it, I suddenly noticed Itachi's eyes flicker slightly. In those ever-calm Sharingan, there seemed to be a trace of barely perceptible softness.
I suddenly understood something and grinned, "Oh... I get it, you have someone like that."
Itachi didn't answer, but his silence was the best answer.
"Let's go..." I raised my hand with difficulty, pointing to the distant forest, "The reinforcements from Kirigakure... will arrive soon..."
My vision began to blur, but my consciousness remained unusually clear. Was this what death felt like? There was no fear, only a strange calm.
I strained to turn my eyes to look at the broken Kubikiribōchō not far away—the demonic sword that had accompanied me for half my life, now only half of the blade remained, silently stuck in the ground.
"I'm just... dying in my own hometown..." I murmured softly, my voice growing weaker and weaker, "That hateful... Village of Blood Mist..."
With my last ounce of strength, I reached out toward the Kubikiribōchō, my fingertips trembling, but I could no longer touch it.
"I thought... this guy was my only partner..."
My arm finally fell limply to my side. In my last moments of consciousness, I seemed to see the man who opened the Eight Gates again. It turns out that true strength is never the power to take lives, but the awareness to protect others.
On the shards of the Kubikiribōchō, the last drop of blood slowly slid down...