Night fell over the nameless valley, and the chill deepened.
Tetsuo and Arai took turns keeping watch high up on the rock face, their figures blending into the darkness, with only occasional reflections of moonlight indicating their presence.
The campfire crackled in the center of the hollow, dispelling some of the chill and reflecting the uncertain expressions on the faces of the people sitting around it.
Shira remained unconscious, lying on the floor covered with an emergency blanket, covered with I Fūgetsu's coat and some extra warm clothes that Kui had found.
His breathing was more steady than before, but his face was still pale, and his brows were unconsciously furrowed even in his sleep, as if he was still going through the agony of battle.
Uzumaki Kei — Karin's mother—held her sleeping daughter tightly in her arms, her gaze sometimes drifting towards Shira, sometimes staring blankly at the flames of the campfire.
The long period of imprisonment and torture had left her looking extremely haggard, but in the Kakkō, her dull red hair still revealed a trace of her former resilience.
The long silence was broken by Aoi. While poking at the fire with a small twig to make the flames burn brighter, she asked softly in a calm tone, "You are members of the Uzumaki Clan, aren't you? How did you end up in Kusagakure, and in such a state?"
This question seemed to touch upon the deepest wound in Uzumaki Kei's heart. Her body trembled slightly, and she tightened her grip on her daughter's arm.
She raised her head and looked at the Sunagakure who had just rescued her from hell. Her eyes were filled with complex emotions: gratitude, wariness, but more than anything, a long-suppressed urge to finally find a crack to confide in.
She took a deep breath of the cold air, and spoke slowly and hoarsely, as if each word carried a heavy weight.
"I am Uzumaki Kei. This is my daughter, Karin." She gently stroked Karin's hair. "We are indeed descendants of the Uzumaki Clan."
Her gaze became distant, as if piercing through time and space, returning to that blood-stained homeland.
"I was still young on the day the Land of Whirlpools was destroyed. Everywhere there were shouts of battle and explosions. My people fell one by one, their red hair becoming targets of pursuit." Her voice began to choke. "I and a few of my people fought our way out."
"Later, we moved around many times, eventually escaping to the nearby Land of Bears, where we hid and lived like rats. The name of the Uzumaki Clan, once an honor, became a death warrant. We dared not reveal our abilities and could only barely survive by doing odd jobs and scavenging scraps."
Tetsuo had moved closer at some point, listening silently. His rugged face, usually so playful, now held a somber expression.
" Karin was born during those turbulent times." Uzumaki Kei looked down at her sleeping daughter's face, her eyes filled with maternal tenderness and pain. "She suffered alongside me from a young age. Later, the other members of our tribe either got separated, died of illness, or starved. In the end, only my daughter and I remained."
"About a year ago, we wandered to the border of the Land of Grass. We were cold and hungry, and almost couldn't survive. That's when we met a few people who claimed to be ninjas from the Kusagakure."
A deep sense of regret and anger flashed in Uzumaki Kei's eyes. "They acted so 'friendly,' saying that Kusagakure was willing to take in war orphans and give us food and shelter. Heh..."
She gave a bitter smile, a smile more painful than tears, "We were like people grasping at a straw, we believed them and followed them into the village. At first, they did give us a simple place to stay and some food, and we thought we had finally found a safe haven."
"But it wasn't long before their true colors were revealed." Her voice suddenly turned icy. "They discovered the special nature of our bodies. They could quickly recover Chakra and injuries by biting our skin. From then on, we were no longer 'refugees,' but became their 'blood packs' and 'tools.'"
"They locked us up, threatened me with Karin, and forced me to constantly 'heal' their ninjas." As she said this, tears silently slid down her cheeks.
Silence reigned around the campfire, broken only by the crackling of the flames and the suppressed sobs of Uzumaki Kei. Arai stood on higher ground, his back appearing somewhat stiff.
Kui stopped poking at the fire. Even I Fūgetsu closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
As ninjas, they had witnessed darkness, but hearing such an encounter still sent chills down their spines and filled them with anger.
"We tried to escape, but each time we were caught and brought back, only to be treated even more cruelly. Eventually, all that was left was numbness and despair." Uzumaki Kei's voice lowered, filled with exhaustion, "... until you appeared..."
She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, at the Sunagakure before her, especially at the unconscious Shira: "Thank you... thank you so much. Although I don't know why you saved us, or what the future holds, at least, at least we're free for now."
Her story ended. Silence fell once more in the valley, but this time it carried a heavier weight and a deeper understanding.
The tragedy of the Uzumaki Clan was not only the destruction of their country and the loss of their homes, but also the endless suffering and darkness of humanity on their exile journey.
In the middle of the night, Karin curled up restlessly in her sleep and murmured, "Mom... cold."
Uzumaki Kei quickly hugged her tighter. Aoi silently made the fire burn even brighter. Tetsuo even handed her one of his coats.
In the darkest hour before dawn, a faint glimmer of light finally appeared on the eastern horizon.
Just then, Arai, who was on guard duty from a higher vantage point, suddenly shouted, "There's movement! To the northeast! It's our men!"
Everyone's spirits lifted. On the distant horizon, several black dots were moving rapidly toward the valley, and the Forehead Protector of Sunagakure gleamed faintly in the morning light.
The people who were supposed to meet us have finally arrived.
The long night is about to pass.
The author is actually a high school student, going back to school next Monday. They live there; it's under military-style management, extremely strict.
Don't worry, everyone. I have a stockpile of chapters and will release new works regularly. There will be no hiatus until I return.
I apologize for not being able to see everyone's suggestions in time.