Forehead Protector

"Let's not talk about that now." Koki gently pulled her thoughts away from the discussion they had just had.

"Okay, sure."

He slowly turned around, his gaze piercing through the dense, bead-like rain curtain, fixed on the distant silhouette.

This town, located on the border of the Land of Rain, reveals a unique and magnificent landscape despite being shrouded in rain.

The towering buildings, rising and falling in undulations, resembled steel behemoths growing from the earth, exuding a sense of power and oppression.

Compared to the square, uniform high-rise buildings in my past life memories, the edges of the high-rise buildings in the Land of Rain resemble a maze woven from countless pipes and chimneys.

The pipes meander like giant pythons, tightly coiled atop the high-rise buildings; the chimneys stand straight and tall, the overall architectural style exuding a cold and closed atmosphere, like indestructible fortresses, resisting the winds and rains of the world.

Perhaps due to the long years of rainy weather, the buildings in the Land of Rain have had to adapt to this environment, with their exterior walls tightly sealed and open balconies and windows rarely seen.

This design serves both to protect against rain and to maintain a cozy indoor environment in this damp and chilly climate.

Each high-rise building is like a miniature universe, where people live, work, and rest, seemingly isolated from the outside world by layers of walls and pipes.

The residents of the Land of Rain are also accustomed to living in high-rise buildings, away from the damp ground, and enjoying the drier air.

From a high vantage point, one can see the entire town: a continuous curtain of rain, towering buildings, and a network of interconnected streets.

Thus, between the skyscrapers, numerous sky bridges soar into the air, like a spider web, tightly connecting the buildings.

Looking up from below, the enormous shadow almost swallowed the sunlight, adding a touch of gloom and chill to the streets and alleys below.

Strolling through the streets and alleys at the bottom level felt like stepping into a dark maze. Raindrops slid down from the edge of the overpass, striking out crisp and lonely notes.

The doors of the shops on both sides were tightly closed, with only occasional faint lights shining through. Pedestrians hurried along, wrapped in heavy coats, carrying umbrellas, their faces etched with fatigue and helplessness.

After Yahiko's death, Konan, Nagato, and others successfully seized control of the Land of Rain and actively promoted industrialization.

A railway, like a giant steel dragon, rapidly spread, traversing every inch of the Land of Rain.

The factory was like a spring bud breaking through the soil, with thick smoke billowing from the chimneys and machines roaring day and night.

Although the climate of the Land of Rain is no longer gloomy all year round, the architectural style is increasingly leaning towards the ruggedness and coldness of large-scale industry and machinery, creating a cold aesthetic of a steel jungle.

The skyscrapers, constructed from countless pipes and chimneys, still stand proudly, and sky bridges are even more densely woven between the buildings. The cold steel structures demonstrate the nation's formidable industrial strength.

The people of the Land of Rain are well aware of the hardships of being a weak nation. They understand that only by choosing a more radical path can they struggle to survive in this cruel world.

Whenever great powers clash, it is a time of suffering for the Land of Rain. War rages, homes are reduced to ruins, and people are displaced.

The global capitalist system resembles a sophisticated "center-periphery network," a pattern vividly illustrated in the Hokage world.

In order to alleviate internal tensions and conflicts, the central powers of imperialism have continuously shifted the crisis to peripheral Third World countries.

For the Land of Rain, this is endless sorrow: the struggle between great powers and the calamity of small nations—an inescapable and harsh fate.

There is still a long way to go to change this country.

Koki seemed to remember something, gently raised her head, and asked curiously, "You two still haven't said anything? What are you doing here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?"

"Well..." Yahiko scratched his head, looking slightly embarrassed as he turned his gaze to Nagato.

Nagato remained silent, his melancholy eyes fixed on Koki's forehead. After a brief pause, he asked a seemingly insignificant question, "Where did your Forehead Protector go?"

In the ninja world, Forehead Protector is not just a piece of metal; it is a symbol of identity, engraved with the unique emblem of each ninja village.

Only by passing rigorous tests can a ninja earn the honor of wearing Forehead Protector. For them, this headband is not only a symbol of their identity but also a symbol of honor and responsibility.

Even those traitorous ninjas were reluctant to discard their Forehead Protector, instead carving a scar on them to signify their complete break with the old ninja village.

That stab was both a resolute betrayal and a helpless act of resistance, proclaiming that although they were gone, their Forehead Protector still bore witness to their past, a past they could not sever ties with.

If an unqualified ninja appears in a ninja village, their Forehead Protector will be ruthlessly taken back. This punishment is extremely severe, signifying the loss of both their ninja qualification and dignity.

"Forehead Protector?" Koki subconsciously touched her forehead, which was smooth. "Oh, this? I saw you seemed quite scared, so I put it away."

Upon hearing this, Yahiko's eyes widened in astonishment.

The atmosphere became subtle at that moment. Nagato pursed her lips slightly, her long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings, and her words became somewhat incoherent. "You... so... it's for me?"

For my sake, you hid your Forehead Protector... Nagato's heart was filled with turbulent emotions.

Whenever Koki's Konoha Forehead Protector came into view, he would feel fear involuntarily. The Forehead Protector was like a painful memory that clung to him, following him like a shadow, impossible to shake off.

Despite Nagato's efforts to maintain a calm demeanor, he never expected that his subtle emotional fluctuations had already been keenly perceived by Koki.

"Yes, I saw you were a little scared, so I put it away. Is there a problem?" Koki's tone was relaxed and casual.

"I... I... thank you!" Nagato's face flushed more and more, his heart was burning with anxiety, and for the first time in his life he deeply felt the inadequacy of words.

"If there's nothing else, why don't you two chat first? I'm going back to sleep." Koki gently rubbed her eyes, accompanied by a long yawn.

For days, he had been busy with trivial matters in the Land of Rain, leaving him with little leisure time. At this moment, exhaustion was like the falling night, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Wait! Koki, can I talk to you alone?" Nagato called out urgently, unwilling to let Koki leave.

He didn't want Koki to leave like this; he had so much he wanted to say to Koki.

"Of course." Koki paused, turned around, and smiled at Nagato.

"Huh?!" Yahiko exclaimed in disbelief, "You little brat!"