Smack!
A streak of vivid blood tears was swept away by the blast and gale, crashing fiercely onto the shattered grass below. It burst into bright red droplets that scattered and vanished into the air.
As the blood tears dispersed, Hirohiko's head slowly drooped. The Three Tomoe Sharingan in his right eye gradually faded, turning into a dim black pupil. Blood streamed from his mouth as his head lowered, flowing like a trickle and carried sideways by the wind in a scarlet line before pattering onto the ground and bursting into even more droplets.
Was it over?
This time... it was truly over...
With his head hanging low, Hirohiko's dim eyes reflected that scarlet streak. Currents of electricity continued to flicker across his chest, crackling as they repeatedly lit up his eyes and blood-smeared face. Yet his pupils no longer contracted in response to the light, and his face no longer held any expression. There was no life left in him.
His consciousness, too, began to blur bit by bit as darkness slowly engulfed him.
Back then... what a regret. Why had I turned just a little too slowly?
Just then, as darkness completely swallowed his vision, an image slowly emerged within the blackness, like a photograph.
It was a spot not far outside a Ninja Academy classroom, where three children of seven or eight stood.
"I'm heading home."
Suddenly, one of them, a boy in slightly worn clothes, spoke. His feet had already begun to move, and he was about to leave as he spoke.
"Take care."
Then the expressionless boy in a dark blue short-sleeved shirt nodded and spoke coolly before turning and walking away on his own, moving even faster than the first boy.
"I'm heading home too. See you tomorrow."
After that, the voice of the