Civilians of the Ninja World

"Let's go, Shisui." Uchiha Naro opened his eyes. His spiritual energy settled, and after finishing his cultivation, he drifted out of the house and landed in the courtyard.

Mikoto had already left the Capital of the Land of Fire with Sasuke and Karin. Shisui's evil spirit floated out of the Ghost Bone Banner, his black aura faintly visible in the morning light. He was still a little worried.

"My lord, do you think Sasuke and the others will be in danger? Can they really bring back the Seven-Tails Jinchuriki? Karin's Sealing Jutsu will help, but I'm still a little concerned."

"I sealed an illusion on them in advance. Even if they run into people they knew before, no one will recognize them unless they reveal themselves. Besides, the main purpose of this trip is for Sasuke to experience the life of a real ninja. Whether or not they bring back the Seven-Tails Jinchuriki doesn't matter."

Naro put the Ghost Bone Banner away in his Purple Mansion. Shisui followed behind him as the two of them headed out.

He didn't walk quickly—in fact, he strolled at a leisurely pace. After leaving the capital through its city gate, he followed the main road west, passing rice paddies and villages. Before half a day had passed, Naro saw something different.

Beside the road, an old man squatted with a few shriveled radishes laid out in front of him. They were small and wilted, with wormholes in them. The old man's clothes were patched, his face was covered in wrinkles, and his hollow eyes stared at the passersby.

No one stopped to buy his radishes.

Naro walked over and crouched down to take a look. Seeing him do so, Shisui crouched too and asked, "Old sir, how much are the radishes?"

The old man looked up and froze for a moment. He probably hadn't expected anyone to ask.

"Th-three coppers each." His voice was hoarse, and he spoke with careful hesitation. "Would you like to buy some, sir?"

Naro took out a few coins and bought two radishes. He bit into one. It was hard and bitter, with hardly any juice.

"That shouldn't have happened. Did you fail to take care of your fields last year?" he asked.

Hearing Uchiha Naro's question and seeing his nobleman's clothes, with a ninja following behind him, the old man assumed a noble had come to inspect the area. He hurriedly fell to his knees and repeatedly denied it.

"Go ahead. Explain yourself."

The old man cautiously raised his head and glanced fearfully at Shisui. Then he shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, forcing down his anxiety as he stammered, "Please hear me out, my lord. Last year was a good year, but half the crops in this old man's fields were trampled by a ninja who happened to be passing by. This year, after finally managing to grow a little something, I ran into... a fight between several ninja. They burned quite a bit of my crops. Some of us... can barely feed our families, so I brought these few radishes out to try my luck."

"What about the others in the village?"

"Th-they're more or less the same." The old man lowered his head even further, as if he wanted to bury it in the earth. "Some went away to look for food. Some went to the city to find work. Those who stayed behind are all old, weak, sick, or disabled."

Uchiha Naro asked no more. He tossed the radishes back in front of the old man and continued on without a word.

Shisui followed behind him, his black aura rippling faintly. He didn't understand why Naro was paying attention to these things. "My lord, hasn't the Ninja World always been like this?"

"I know," Naro said. "But seeing it with your own eyes isn't the same as hearing about it."

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

Calling it a town was generous. It was really just a single street, with a few scattered shops on either side. Several sacks of grain were piled outside a general store, but they were limp and nearly empty. A restaurant's sign hung over its entrance, but no customers came or went. There wasn't a single person inside.

A line had formed outside a pawnshop. Everyone in it was an ordinary civilian. Some carried bundles, others held clay jars, and they all wore the same expression: numbness.

Naro stood across the street and watched for a while.

A middle-aged woman came out of the pawnshop clutching a few copper coins, her eyes red. She held a bundle in her arms, probably containing a quilt or some clothes.

"Mom, I'm hungry." The little girl beside her tugged at her sleeve, her voice small. The girl was so thin and gaunt that she looked nothing like the healthy civilians in Konoha.

The woman crouched down and stroked the girl's dry, yellowing hair. "Be patient. I'll make you some porridge when we get home."

"Porridge again..." The girl's spirits clearly fell, but she still looked up at her mother with hopeful eyes. "Then can I have two extra pieces of greens?"

The woman's tears fell at once.

"You can, of course you can. I'll give you a few more pieces of greens later. Be good, just wait a few days... In a few days, I'll find a way to let you..." As she spoke, the woman seemed unable to promise her daughter anything. She wiped away her tears, stood up, took the girl's hand, and hurried off.

Uchiha Naro watched them leave without saying a word.

"My lord, why not leave them some money?" Uchiha Shisui couldn't understand what Naro was thinking. On the night of the Uchiha Clan Massacre, Naro had been so cold-blooded as he watched the clan fall. Now he seemed to be overflowing with sympathy for these civilians.

"Come on. Leaving them money won't help." Naro shook his head. "A few copper coins can't change anything. The problems in this country can't be solved with a coin or two."

He turned and continued west. Uchiha Shisui followed behind, pondering Naro's intentions.

After walking for a while, Naro stopped to rest at the entrance to a village. Beneath a large tree sat an old man, smoking a long-stemmed pipe and squinting up at the sky.

Naro walked over and sat beside him. "Old sir, how are things around here?"

"Young fellow, did you come from the capital?" The old man glanced at him and puffed out a cloud of smoke.

"Yeah."

"I thought so." The old man knocked his pipe against the sole of his shoe. "People in the capital don't know how hard life is for us country folk."

"What do you mean?"

The old man sighed and pointed at the fields in the distance.

"Look at those fields. They used to be fertile farmland. Now half of them lie fallow. Why? Because there's no point growing anything. We have to hand over seventy percent of what we harvest in taxes. What little is left isn't enough to eat."

"Are the taxes really that high?"

"High?" The old man gave a bitter smile. "They used to be higher. There's been a little less fighting these past few years, so they lowered them a bit. But think about it. It's been over fifty years since the shinobi villages were founded, and half that time has been spent at war. Big wars and small wars, one after another. Today they fight this village, tomorrow that one. And who pays the price? We ordinary people do, with our lives."

Naro listened without interrupting.

"The noble lords don't care whether we live or die," the old man continued. "They want money, grain, all kinds of supplies. They need money for war, and they need money when there's no war. The able-bodied men in the village are taken away to serve, and hardly any of them come back. There's no one left to work the fields, but we still have to pay our taxes. Tell me, how are we supposed to live?"

"Doesn't anyone do anything about it?"

"Do anything?" The old man gave a cold laugh. "Who's going to? The Daimyo's officials sit in their mansions drinking tea, and the ninja are busy fighting one another. Who has time to care about us peasants?"

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

The old man shook his head.

"I don't know. No one does. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, maybe next year. It'll come sooner or later." He stood and brushed the dust from his clothes. "Young fellow, you're lucky to be young and able to see the world beyond here. That's a good thing. But remember, in this world, just staying alive is hard."

With that, he clasped his hands behind his back and walked away at a leisurely pace.

Naro sat beneath the tree, looking out over the fields. A few farmers were bent over their work. Their backs were hunched and their movements slow, as though they were using the last of their strength.

Shisui watched the old man walk away, reflecting on what he had said. "My lord, what are you thinking about?"

"How many more people in this Ninja World will have to die." Naro stood. "Let's go."

He continued west. Along the way, Naro saw far too many scenes like that.

Abandoned villages, collapsed houses, fields overgrown with grass. From time to time, he saw burial mounds along the roadside. Some had wooden markers stuck in them; others were just piles of earth, without even a marker.

In one town, Naro saw a notice board with several sheets of paper posted on it. The most prominent one was a tax decree issued by the Daimyo's Mansion. It announced a new "special war tax" for the year, supposedly "in preparation for unforeseen circumstances."

"'In preparation for unforeseen circumstances.'" Naro read it aloud and chuckled. "Sounds nice. They don't know when they'll have to fight again, so they're stocking up on money and grain in advance."

Shisui saw the tax decree too. He began to understand what Uchiha Naro was thinking. Civilians in Konoha and civilians in the Land of Fire lived in two different worlds. Shisui, too, began to wonder whether the existence of ninja was good for the Ninja World... or bad...

"My lord, the shinobi villages have existed for over fifty years, and half that time has been spent at war... What... what's the reason?"

"Go and see for yourself. Think about it." Uchiha Naro didn't answer Shisui's question. He had some hopes for Shisui, but Shisui would have to grow on his own. Naro couldn't simply tell him the answers. "Maybe it'll never end."

Naro and Shisui found a teahouse in town and sat down. There weren't many people inside. A few men who looked like merchants sat in a corner, talking in low voices. Naro ordered a bowl of tea and drank it slowly.

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

"...Did you hear? There are bandits up north again. They raided several villages the day before yesterday."

"Bandits? What bandits? They're just ordinary people who can't make a living anymore. They can't farm and can't pay their taxes, so they have no choice but to go up into the mountains and become bandits."

"Ah, who can argue with that? Life's too hard for ordinary people."

"And what can you do about it? Who cares? The noble lords only care about their own purses, and the ninja only care about their missions. When civilians die, they'll just have another batch."

"Keep your voice down! You'll be beheaded if anyone hears you."

"Beheaded? So be it. Life's not worth living anyway."

They fell silent for a while, then changed the subject. After all, better a bad life than none at all. As long as they stayed alive, perhaps they would live to see a better day...

Shisui sat beside Uchiha Naro. He was an evil spirit and couldn't drink tea. "My lord, what they said..."

"It's all true." Naro put down his teacup. "There are more civilians than anyone else, after all. When one batch dies, another takes its place..."

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

"The old site of the Land of Whirlpools is over there. It was once the Uzumaki Clan's home. Now all that's left is ruins, just like the Uchiha Clan. All that remains of them now is that lake."

"My lord, why would Lady Tsunade come to the Land of Whirlpools? The country fell long ago..."

"Who knows?" Naro closed his eyes and sensed the area. "I can sense her on the island at the old site of the Land of Whirlpools. And..." He opened his eyes. "Two other powerful chakra signatures are heading there as well."

"Are they Orochimaru and Nagato, the ones you invited?"

"Probably." Naro smiled. "Looks like they all received their invitations."

A few days earlier, he had sent out his spirit and traveled a thousand miles through the night to the Land of Rain. There, he used the Art of Animal Manipulation to have a stray cat deliver a scroll to Orochimaru and another to Nagato. To Orochimaru, he had written, "The secret of eternal life. Come to the Land of Whirlpools to talk." To Nagato, he had written, "The secret of bringing the dead back to life. Yahiko's future. Come to the Land of Whirlpools to talk."

They had indeed come.

"Let's go. We shouldn't keep them waiting." Seeing that all his invitees had arrived, Uchiha Naro stopped wasting time. He concealed himself and took to the air, flying toward the Land of Whirlpools.

The area around the old site of the Land of Whirlpools was even more desolate. The soil was saline and alkaline, unfit for crops, and bare ground stretched in every direction. A few crooked trees stood here and there, their bark stripped away by starving people who had chewed it to stay alive.

As he neared the old site of the Land of Whirlpools, he saw a stretch of ruins. They weren't the ruins of the Land of Whirlpools, but those of a village. The houses had all collapsed, leaving only a few broken walls. Burn marks scarred the walls, and shattered roof tiles and rusty tools lay scattered on the ground.

In the middle of the ruins was a grave made of piled stones. A wooden board stood in front of it, its inscription worn away by wind and rain.

Beyond it lay the true old site of the Land of Whirlpools. It had once been the Uzumaki Clan's homeland, prosperous in its day. Now, only broken walls remained, covered in moss and vines. The sea breeze carried a salty tang, making the weeds in the ruins rustle. Waves pounded against the rocks along the shore with a dull roar.

When Naro reached the old site of the Land of Whirlpools, he slowed his flight—not because he was tired, but because he sensed—

Three powerful presences.

Deep within the ruins, three powerful forces were facing off.

He landed, dispelled his invisibility, and appeared in plain sight. With Shisui beside him, he walked toward the source of the presences. It was a gesture of respect for the guests he had invited.

After rounding a fallen stone wall, they saw an open space where three groups stood facing one another from three different directions. No one spoke. No one moved.

To the east, Orochimaru leaned against a stone pillar. His long black hair fluttered faintly in the wind, and his golden slit-pupiled eyes gleamed with amusement. He stood with his arms crossed and a faint, knowing smile on his face. 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 couldn't hide the oppressive force radiating from his purple Rinnegan. A short distance behind him stood a blue-haired woman with an impassive expression, holding a paper flower in her hand. Konan.

To the north, Tsunade stood in front of a cracked stone monument. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, and her green cloak snapped in the sea breeze. Behind her, Shizune held a little pig, looking somewhat nervous.

The three forces clashed, and the air seemed to hum.

As Uchiha Naro's footsteps approached, he and Uchiha Shisui gradually came into view of the three groups.

"Teacher Tsunade, it's been a long time..."