What a coincidence-they had run into each other.
Gekkō Raito watched the direction the two were racing toward, an amused curve lifting the corner of his mouth.
Sorry, first come, first served. You two made this trip for nothing.
He wasted no more time, accelerating instantly and turning into a blur as he rushed toward the Seven-Tails Jinchuriki's location.
At that moment, Kaede, the Seven-Tails Jinchuriki, was sitting alone on a large rock beside a stream outside the village, staring into space.
Her back conveyed a loneliness that did not fit her age.
It seemed every jinchūriki in the Shinobi World followed the same script: they were clearly their villages' nuclear weapons, yet they were ostracized as monsters, only to be dragged out and used as tools at critical moments.
Gekkō Raito still could not make sense of that schizophrenic logic.
If they treated jinchūriki as weapons, they should have pampered them like revered ancestors, providing not only good food and drink but also psychological counseling.
Otherwise, if the weapon rusted or turned against them, wouldn't the village itself be the one to suffer?
But that did not matter. How others courted death was their own business.
Gekkō Raito landed lightly on the water opposite Kaede, his toes touching the surface without moving an inch.
He appeared without warning. Kaede jumped in fright like a startled kitten, her face full of wariness.
When did this guy show up?
I didn't sense him at all!
Chōmei issued a warning from inside her: "Careful! This guy smells like the Six-Tails Saiken. He might be the Six-Tails Jinchuriki!"
The Six-Tails?
Kaede stared at the forehead protector on Gekkō Raito's head. It indeed bore Kirigakure's symbol.
Why would a Kirigakure ninja come here? This was Takigakure, with the vast Land of Fire lying between