Ninja World Civilians

"Let us go, Shisui." Uchiha Naro opened his eyes, his mana settling into stillness. After finishing his cultivation, he drifted out of the room and landed in the courtyard.

Mikoto had already left the Capital of the Land of Fire with Sasuke and Karin. Shisui's vengeful spirit drifted out from the Ghost Bone Banner, his black aura flickering in the morning light; he still felt a lingering sense of unease.

"Master, will Sasuke and the others be in danger on this trip? Can they truly bring back the Seven-Tails Jinchuriki? Even with the help of Karin's sealing jutsu, I am still somewhat worried."

"They carry illusions I sealed upon them in advance. Even if they encounter people they once knew, as long as they do not expose themselves, no one will be able to recognize them. Besides, the main purpose of this trip is for Sasuke to understand the reality of a ninja's life. As for the Seven-Tails Jinchuriki, whether they bring her back or not is of no great consequence."

Naro stored the Ghost Bone Banner into his Purple Mansion, and with Shisui following behind him, the two walked outward.

He did not walk quickly; one could even say he was strolling. After exiting the city gates of the capital, they followed the main road westward, passing through fields of rice and small villages. Less than half a day later, Naro saw something different.

By the side of the road, an old man squatted, a few shriveled radishes laid out before him. The radishes were tiny, wilted, and riddled with wormholes. The old man's clothes were patched, his face a map of wrinkles, his hollow eyes staring at the passing travelers.

No one stopped to buy his radishes.

Naro walked over and squatted down to take a look. Seeing this, Shisui also crouched and asked, "Old man, how much for these radishes?"

The old man looked up, stunned, as if he had not expected anyone to ask.

"Three... three copper coins each." The old man's voice was hoarse, tinged with a cautious edge. "Ninja-sama, are you going to buy them?"

Naro took out a few copper coins and bought two. He took a bite; they were hard, astringent, and devoid of moisture.

"This shouldn't be. Did you not farm properly last year?" he asked.

Upon hearing Uchiha Naro's inquiry and seeing his noble attire, with a ninja following behind him, the old man assumed he was a noble out for an inspection. He hurriedly knelt on the ground, denying it incessantly.

"I will give you a chance to explain."

The old man looked up cautiously, his eyes filled with fear as he glanced at Shisui. Then, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, he forced down his anxiety and stammered an explanation: "Noble Lord, please listen. The harvest was good last year, but the crops in my field... were trampled by a ninja-sama who... happened to pass by. This year, I finally managed to grow something, but then I encountered... encountered the battles of several ninja-sama... and the crops were... burned quite a bit. My family is unable to put food on the table, so I could only bring these few radishes out... to try my luck."

"What about the others in the village?"

"They... they are all about the same." The old man lowered his head even further, as if trying to bury it in the dirt. "Some have fled to escape the famine, others have gone to the city to find work. Those who remain are all the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled."

Uchiha Naro did not ask further. He tossed the radishes back in front of the old man and continued walking without saying a word.

Shisui followed behind him, his black aura fluctuating slightly. He did not understand why Naro would concern himself with such matters. "Master, hasn't the ninja world always been like this?"

"I know," Naro said. "But seeing it with one's own eyes is different from hearing about it."

After walking for half a day, Naro passed through a small town.

Calling it a small town was generous; it was essentially a single street with a few scattered shops on either side. A grocery store had a few bags of grain piled at the entrance, but the bags were shriveled, containing very little. A tavern hung a banner, but it was deserted, without a single customer.

A line had formed in front of a pawnshop. Those waiting were all commoners, some clutching bundles, others carrying clay pots, all wearing the same expression—numbness.

Naro stood across the street and watched for a while.

A middle-aged woman emerged from the pawnshop, clutching a few copper coins, her eyes red. She held a bundle in her arms, likely containing quilts or clothing.

"Mother, I'm hungry." The little girl beside her tugged at her sleeve, her voice small. The girl was thin and gaunt, not at all as healthy as the civilians in Konoha.

The woman squatted down and stroked the girl's dry, yellowing hair. "Endure it a little longer. When we get back, Mother will cook you some porridge."

"Porridge again..." The girl's mood was clearly dampened, but she still looked up at her mother with expectation. "Then, can I have two extra pieces of green vegetable?"

The woman's tears fell instantly.

"Yes, of course you can. Later, Mother will give you more vegetables. Be good. In a few days... in a few days, Mother will find a way to let you..." Here, the woman could not think of what to promise her daughter, so she wiped her tears, stood up, took the girl's hand, and hurried away.

Uchiha Naro watched their retreating backs without speaking.

"Master, should we leave them some money?" Uchiha Shisui did not understand what Naro was thinking. During the night of the clan's annihilation, Naro had been so cold-blooded, watching the Uchiha perish, yet now he seemed to be overflowing with sympathy for these commoners.

"Let's go. Leaving money is useless." Naro shook his head. "A few copper coins cannot change anything. The problems of this country cannot be solved by one or two coins."

He turned and continued walking west, Uchiha Shisui following behind him, pondering Naro's intentions.

After walking for another period, Naro stopped to rest at the entrance of a village. An old man sat under a large tree at the village gate, smoking a dry pipe and squinting at the sky.

Naro walked over, sat down beside him, and asked, "Old man, how is life for you all around here?"

"Are you a young man from the capital?" The old man glanced at him and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Yes."

"No wonder." The old man tapped his pipe against the sole of his shoe. "How would people from the capital know the suffering of us country folk?"

"How so?"

The old man sighed and pointed toward the distant fields.

"Look at those fields. They used to be fertile land, but now half of them are abandoned. Why? Because there is no point in planting. Seventy percent of the harvested grain must be paid as tax, and what remains is not enough to eat."

"The taxes are that heavy?"

"Heavy?" The old man gave a bitter laugh. "They were even heavier before. There have been fewer wars in the last few years, so they lowered them slightly. But think about it: it has been over fifty years since those ninja villages were established, and half that time has been spent at war. Big wars, small wars, they never stop. Fighting this village today, fighting that village tomorrow. Fighting back and forth—whose lives are being spent? It is the lives of us common folk."

Naro listened without interrupting.

"The noble lords do not care whether we live or die," the old man continued. "They want money, grain, and all sorts of supplies. War costs money, and even without war, they still need money. The able-bodied men in the village were dragged off to serve, and few returned. There is no one to farm the land, yet the taxes must still be paid. You tell me, how is one supposed to live?"

"Does no one care?"

"Care?" The old man sneered. "Who would care? The officials of the Daimyo sit in their mansions drinking tea, and the ninja-sama are busy fighting each other. Who has the time to care about us mud-legged peasants?"

"Old man, when do you think the next war will come?"

The old man shook his head.

"I don't know. Nobody knows. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, maybe next year. Either way, it's bound to come sooner or later." He stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes. "Young man, you're young, and it's a good thing you can go out and see the world. But remember, in this day and age, just staying alive is no easy feat."

With that, he walked away slowly with his hands behind his back.

Naro sat under a tree, looking at the fields in the distance. A few farmers were bent over working in the fields; their backs were hunched, and their movements were sluggish, as if they were using up the last of their strength.

Shisui watched the old man's departing figure, savoring the words he had just spoken, and whispered, "Master, what are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about how many more people have to die in this Shinobi World." Naro stood up. "Let's go."

He continued westward. Along the way, Naro saw too many scenes like this.

Desolate villages, collapsed houses, fields overgrown with weeds. Graves could be seen by the roadside from time to time; some had wooden markers, while others had nothing at all but a mound of dirt.

In one town, Naro saw a notice board with several papers posted on it. The most prominent one was a tax decree issued by the Daimyo's Mansion, stating that a "Special War Tax" would be levied this year, with the reason given as "preparing for the unexpected."

"Preparing for the unexpected." Naro read it once and smiled. "Sounds nice. Isn't it just hoarding money and grain because they don't know when the next war will break out?"

Shisui also saw the tax decree. He began to understand Uchiha Naro's thoughts. The civilians of Konoha and the civilians of the Land of Fire lived in two different worlds. Shisui also began to ponder whether the existence of shinobi was, for the Shinobi World, ultimately good... or bad...

"Master, the hidden villages have been established for over fifty years, and half that time has been spent at war... What... what is the reason for this?"

"Go see and think for yourself." Uchiha Naro did not answer Shisui's question. Although he held some expectations for Shisui, those required Shisui to grow on his own, rather than having these things told to him. "Perhaps there is no end to it."

Naro took Shisui to a teahouse in the town to sit down. There weren't many people in the teahouse; a few merchant-like figures sat in the corner whispering to each other. He ordered a bowl of tea and drank it slowly.

At the next table, two middle-aged men were talking. Their voices were low, but Naro and Shisui could hear them clearly.

"...Did you hear? There's trouble with mountain bandits in the north again. They raided several villages the day before yesterday."

"Bandits? What kind of bandits? Aren't they just commoners who can't survive? They can't farm, can't pay taxes, so they have no choice but to go up the mountain and become thieves."

"Sigh, who's to say otherwise. In this world, it's too hard for the common folk."

"So what if it's hard? Who cares about you? The noble lords only care about their own purses, and the shinobi lords only care about their missions. If commoners die, a new batch will just be born."

"Keep your voice down! You'll get your head chopped off if you're heard."

"Chopped off? Let them chop it off. Living is meaningless anyway."

The two fell silent for a while, then changed the subject. After all—a miserable life is better than a quick death; if you stay alive, maybe you'll see a better day...

Shisui sat beside Uchiha Naro. Being a vengeful spirit, he had no way to drink tea. "Master, what they said..."

"Is all the truth." Naro set down his teacup. "Anyway, the commoners are the most numerous; if one batch dies, there will be another to take their place..."

After walking for two more days, the two stopped at a port and looked at the sea in the distance.

"That over there is the former site of the Land of Whirlpools. The old home of the Uzumaki Clan is now nothing but ruins, much like the Uchiha Clan, which now only has that lake left."

"Master, how did Lady Tsunade end up in the Land of Whirlpools? After all, it has been a long time since the Land of Whirlpools was destroyed..."

"Who knows." Naro closed his eyes and sensed the area. "I can sense that she is on this island at the former site of the Land of Whirlpools. And..." He opened his eyes, "there are two other strong chakras heading there as well."

"Are they Orochimaru and Nagato, whom you invited, Master?"

"Likely." Naro smiled. "It seems they all received the invitations."

A few days ago, he had projected his primordial spirit and traveled a thousand miles in the night to the Land of Rain, where he performed the Art of Animal Manipulation to have a wild cat deliver a scroll to both Orochimaru and Nagato. To Orochimaru, he wrote, "The secret to immortality, come to the Land of Whirlpools to discuss." To Nagato, he wrote, "The secret to eternal life for the dead, the future of Yahiko, come to the Land of Whirlpools to discuss."

They had come, just as expected.

"Let's go, don't keep them waiting too long." Seeing that those invited had arrived, Uchiha Naro stopped wasting time. He concealed his form, rose on the wind, and flew toward the Land of Whirlpools.

The area near the former site of the Land of Whirlpools was even more desolate. The soil was saline-alkali, unable to grow crops, and it was barren everywhere. Occasionally, one could see a few crooked trees with their bark stripped away—the work of the starving poor trying to fill their stomachs.

As he neared the former site of the Land of Whirlpools, he saw a patch of ruins. It wasn't the ruins of the Land of Whirlpools, but the ruins of a village. The houses had all collapsed, leaving only a few broken walls. There were scorch marks on the walls, and broken tiles and rusted tools were scattered on the ground.

In the middle of the ruins was a grave mound piled up with stones. A wooden board was stuck in front of the mound, but the words on it had been worn away by wind and rain until they were illegible.

Further ahead was the true site of the Land of Whirlpools. Once the homeland of the Uzumaki Clan, it had been prosperous for a time. Now, only broken walls and ruins remained, with moss and vines crawling over the stone walls. The sea breeze blew in, carrying a salty, fishy scent, causing the weeds on the ruins to rustle. The waves crashed against the reefs on the shore, making a dull, thumping sound.

When Naro reached the site, he slowed his flight, not because he was tired, but because he felt it—

Three auras.

Deep within the ruins, three powerful auras were confronting one another.

He landed on the ground, dispelled his concealment, and revealed his form. He walked toward the source of the auras with Shisui, a gesture of respect from a host to his invited guests.

Rounding a collapsed stone wall, he saw the open space ahead—three groups of people stood in three different directions. No one spoke, and no one moved.

To the east, Orochimaru leaned against a stone pillar. His long black hair fluttered slightly in the wind, and his golden vertical pupils were full of amusement. He stood with his arms crossed, a faint, mocking smile on his lips. He had come alone.

To the west, Nagato sat on a chair made of folded paper. His red hair covered half his face, but it could not hide the pressure radiating from those purple Rinnegan. Not far behind him stood a blue-haired woman, expressionless, holding a paper flower in her hand. Konan.

To the north, Tsunade stood before a broken stone tablet. Her golden hair was tied into a ponytail, and her green haori flapped in the sea breeze. Behind her, Shizune held a small pig, her expression somewhat nervous.

The three auras collided, and the air seemed to hum with the tension.

Accompanied by the sound of Uchiha Naro's footsteps, he and Uchiha Shisui gradually appeared in the sight of the three groups.

"Teacher Tsunade, it has been a long time..."