In life, the only thing you could be sure of was that life was uncertain.
Uzumaki Kuming knew that very well.
In a teahouse in Aoba Town, Uzumaki Kuming sat with Orochimaru. Looking at the orange-haired young man across from him, he fell silent. Yahiko was still alive, but he was utterly different from the sunny boy in Kuming's memories.
The young man before him had fair skin and a cold expression. His gaze was full of wariness, even touched with a faint killing intent. An eerie robe patterned with Akatsuki Clouds hung over him, and his fingernails were painted purple.
Yahiko's appearance now was worlds apart from the person Kuming remembered.
After a long silence, Kuming was the first to break it. He spoke softly:
"Yahiko, it's been a long time! How have Nagato and Konan been?"
A thousand things crowded to his lips, but all he managed was that simple greeting. The Yahiko of his youth and the Yahiko before him had changed beyond recognition, in both attire and bearing. From Yahiko's eyes, Kuming read a great deal. He stayed on guard, yet still hoped to glean some information from him.
Yahiko didn't answer. He gazed out the window, a trace of reminiscence crossing his face.
Only after a long while did Yahiko reply, "They're both doing very well. You don't need to worry."
Yahiko turned back to Kuming. The killing intent in his eyes had grown stronger.
"Oh? That's good, then."
"Yahiko, I remember your dream was to make the Land of Rain a peaceful country. So why are you here?"
Kuming lifted his head slightly, discreetly glancing at Orochimaru beside him before looking at Yahiko. He could sense the killing intent coming from him. Ever since he had become one with Kurama, Kuming's senses had grown