Scapegoat

"How strange," Yura said with a light smile. "The scapegoat has started to speak."

The original intent of the Caged Bird corresponds to a scapegoat. In the Shinobi World, there is an ancient children's nursery rhyme called the Kagome Song. It is a long-standing game played among children: the child playing the 'ghost' squats in the center with their eyes covered, while a group of children circles them, singing the rhyme. When the song ends, if the child playing the ghost guesses who is standing behind them, then that child becomes the new scapegoat.

"Shut up!!!" With a roar, Akitsu's chest heaved, and she glared viciously at Yura.

Shut up, you say?

Watching the ninja, who was somewhat broken but still struggling, Yura smiled faintly.

Not only will I not shut up, but I will also sing. In the past, when her nephew was heartbroken, Yura loved to sing to him: I thought it would be a lifetime, but I didn't expect it to be just a moment.

"The little skylark that can't find its home~ hides among the wheat ears in the boundless field~"

"Though it cries out for its mother~ it hears only the murmuring of wheat in the wind~"

Placed in the context of the Shinobi World, ninety percent of ninjas—especially those from the Warring States period—would be emotionally devastated upon hearing this.

Utterly devastated.

The Great Yokai really loved to sing.

Circling in the air, Little Monster thought about this, but sometimes, as she listened, she felt a deep ache. Without realizing it, little pearls rolled down Little Monster's face.

"I said!!! Shut up—!!! Ahhhhhhh—!!!" A violent killing intent erupted, chakra boiled and roared around her, and she transformed into a blur, charging headlong toward Yura with reckless abandon.

She had truly cried out for her mother before.

Yura smiled faintly.

When they encounter something they like, they want to attack it.

Yura herself was a severe sadist.

She possessed a bloodthirsty nature that allowed her to kill with a smile—a classic trait of extreme cruelty. She took pleasure in bullying weaker yokai, but as a Great Yokai, she had no interest in ordinary people. Thus, when she came to human villages to buy things, she would pay and greet people with a smile, but one must absolutely never raise a hand against her.

No matter who the opponent was, Yura would counterattack without hesitation and annihilate them.

And regardless of the type of battle, Yura felt no pain. As a member of the Ghost Tribe, in other words, Yura felt no fear whatsoever.

Mid-air, Akitsu's body jerked, her Byakugan trembling. It's coming!

Attack!

If it were a slash, she had the confidence to defend against it, as long as she could get close...

Her body spun violently, unleashing the secret technique of absolute defense: Rotation. Suddenly, a three-meter-wide spiral sphere of chakra bloomed in the air.

Immediately, the stalemate lasted less than an instant before she was sent flying backward at an even greater speed. Her spine slammed straight into a tree trunk, and under the recoil, her body skipped like a stone across water, tumbling and shooting deep into the dense forest. After nearly a hundred meters, the rolling finally ceased.

Dust billowed in the woods.

Her limbs were twisted at strange angles, her combat suit was shredded, and she was covered in abrasions and blood. Leaning against a tree, she lowered her head, breathing with great difficulty.

Within her Byakugan, the pure white pupils trembled.

Even though she could perceive that invisible blade, she couldn't block it—she couldn't block it at all. Physically, it didn't feel like she had collided with a sword, but something much larger.

Sitting cross-legged in mid-air, a giant black hand slowly dissolved and retracted in front of Yura. Playing billiards was just like this; she had spun it so perfectly that a single slap had sent her flying.

Although the opponent had detected Yura's sword path, Yura had yet to encounter an opponent capable of forcing her to use her full swordsmanship.

The Two-Sword Style, or rather, Niten Ichi-ryu, was a very "dirty" swordsmanship—a heart-based style. Its secret ultimate technique was essentially trash-talking: using the power of language to completely suppress the opponent's psychology, spirit, and momentum. It relied on deception and sneak attacks, leaning toward grand strategy. The weapon used in the swordsmanship didn't matter; what mattered was the tactical and strategic goal.

During the Warring States period, people used the term "military strategy" to refer to swordsmanship. "Grand Strategy" referred to leading armies and formations, while "Small Strategy" specifically referred to swordsmanship.

Niten Ichi-ryu, compared to technical skill, focused more on tactics—or rather, the mind.

In this regard alone, Naruto was a good seed for swordsmanship, and also a good trash-talker.

Yura's Multi-Sword Style required a focus on the art of commanding multiple weapons, formulating different tactics for different situations.

Akitsu didn't know where she had failed, but Yura knew exactly why she had lost.

No matter the power, it all starts from the human heart. If your mindset collapses, dreaming of victory is just that—a dream.

Akitsu struggled to lift her eyes, looking at Yura, who remained a hundred meters away without pursuing. The overlapping branches and treetops could not block her vision.

"Someone once said..." Floating through the forest with a slow, level flight, Yura approached the space above the White Fox ninja, looking down from on high. "Heaven will not allow those who pursue victory with the intent of mutual destruction to keep winning forever."

A very interesting saying, a sort of divine prophecy for the Shinobi World. Any ninja who held the intent of mutual destruction rarely had a good ending—for instance, Danzo, who sealed half a bridge.

Akitsu's eyes shook; the moment she heard those words, she thought of it instinctively.

"Is this... fate?"

"Heaven" was a very specific symbol, referring to fate.

If this was fate, in that instant, Akitsu felt intensely that all her efforts were in vain.

"I, however, think this is a piece of useless nonsense," Yura said with a light smile.

If one cannot win while holding the intent of mutual destruction, then what of those who take out a tank with a satchel charge? Does that not count as a win?

Struggling to lift her head, Akitsu looked at Yura's face. The sunlight filtering through the canopy made it hard to see clearly; she only felt that Yura was high above, like a god coldly overlooking the world. The crimson fox mask she wore featured a fox's eye corners curved into an eerie, ominous sneer.

"What do you know..." Akitsu smiled with difficulty, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth. She lowered her head and said, "And what do you know of me..."

"There is a bird in this world that buries its head..." Yura laughed. "When it encounters danger, it hides its head in the dirt, pretending the danger doesn't exist. How could such a bird ever conceive of the idea of mutual destruction? This so-called 'Heaven will not allow him to keep winning' is nothing more than a self-comforting lie."

"No!!!" She did not lack the courage to perish together with an enemy, but she felt a sense of déjà vu regarding this act of cowering, and the words on the tip of her tongue were swallowed back down.

"Do you know? When birds press their heads close to the ground, it looks like a cowardly act of shrinking away, but in reality, they are using their keen hearing to sense movement from afar and judge the source of danger," Yura said.

Eh?

Akitsu looked up at Yura.

"So, do those eyes of yours really see where the danger is coming from?" Yura chuckled softly. "Have you seen your true enemy?"

The true enemy?

The Hyuga Main Branch?

Beneath the mask, Akitsu pressed her lips together.

Of course her eyes could see such things clearly, but things would get better. Now that she had the village, the First Hokage had said that everyone in the village was like family, that there were no barriers between clans, and that the situation and fate of the Branch House would surely change in the future!

Surely!...

Surely?

Yura descended with a faint smile, her low laughter echoing through the forest. As she landed level with the girl, she reached out and plucked the White Fox mask from the girl's face, scrutinizing those eyes—the Byakugan, crystalline and translucent like gemstones.

Akitsu wanted to move, but...

Extending a slender finger to gently lift the girl's chin, Yura smiled. "You have such a beautiful face..." Yura's eyes lit up.

With a lump in her throat, Akitsu felt the hair on her body stand on end.

She had never been this intimate with anyone, let alone a woman; both her body and mind were instinctively resisting.

"To wither away so silently in a place like that... it's such a pity."

What did she mean?

"Let me be blunt: you have simply escaped from one cage into a larger one." Yura smiled faintly. "Little scapegoat, your fate of dying for others will never end. However, to be grateful to the very ghosts you are dying for—that is truly too pathetic."

Akitsu's pupils trembled; she suddenly understood where the sense of dissonance had been all along.

This woman was perhaps sixteen or seventeen, looking much like Hanabi in her youth, yet the status of their fates was worlds apart, Yura smiled faintly.

"Can you tell me your name, little scapegoat?"

Akitsu's pupils trembled as she said in a shaking voice, "What do you mean? That sentence just now... what did it mean!"

"Your..." Yura said, "name."

"Akitsu..." the girl replied, gritting her teeth and saying coldly, "I am not a scapegoat!!!"

She wanted to confirm one thing.

But if that were the case, it would be too cruel, truly too cruel...

"Tell me! Those words just now! What did they mean!?"