Chapter 181: Yahiko's Akatsuki
Amegakure.
If Kirigakure was named for the ever-present mist that cloaked it year-round, then Amegakure earned its name from the near-constant rain that soaked the land ten months out of every year.
When it came to gloom and damp, Amegakure could easily outmatch the Mist Village.
At least in Kirigakure, the locals didn't have to wear straw hats, raincoats, and boots just to make it through daily life.
In Amegakure, that was the norm.
Nestled between the Land of Fire, the Land of Wind, and the Land of Earth, the village frequently became the battleground for the shinobi of those great nations.
It wasn't their land, after all. It was just a small, insignificant country. No matter how brutal the fighting got, it was still on someone else's soil. There was no reason to wreck their own lands or disrupt their own people's livelihoods.
So they fought here—without concern for the consequences.
The Hokage, Kazekage, Tsuchikage... none of them cared. Even their daimyō turned a blind eye.
Only the Land of Rain bled and wept for it.
During the Second Great Ninja War, Amegakure's leader—Hanzo the Salamander, a man dubbed a demigod—had fought a war to secure peace.
With Hanzo's fearsome reputation suppressing conflict, the three great nations refrained from making Amegakure a battlefield again during the Third Great Ninja War.
But even that couldn't stop the chaos. The village remained dark and unstable, constantly harassed and plundered by wandering shinobi from those same three nations.
These so-called wanderers weren't missing-nin.
They were those who had, either by intent or accident, been separated from their platoons during battles. Shinobi who lost contact with their villages, drifting into other nations.
You could call them deserters—though not all of them would admit to it.
During the four years of the Third Great Ninja War, the number of such rogue shinobi surged across the small nations, including Amegakure.
Many of them abandoned their missions before the fighting began or managed to survive and slip away in the chaos, escaping the meat grinder of war. They fled to places like the Land of Rain and the Land of Grass.
With no loyalty to their homelands, they relied on their shinobi strength to survive in places beyond the reach of any nation's authority—waiting for the war to end.
As for how they survived? Well, they didn't grow crops or gather resources.
Naturally, the local people paid the price.
...
Yahiko, the leader of Akatsuki, walked slowly through the rain-drenched alleys of a small village in the Land of Rain.
The cries of women and children echoed in the ears of his comrades.
The villagers, who had just been raided and lost their loved ones, now looked at yet another group of shinobi with pain and hatred in their eyes.
Even though these shinobi had come to help them.
Yahiko stepped through puddles streaked with blood. As he looked at the frail bodies lying cold in the street, he murmured,
"Nagato… we were too late."
Uzumaki Nagato gave a quiet response.
"Mm. Let's help them bury their families."
"We should. It's the least we can do."
Yahiko turned, raising his voice to his group:
"Spread out! Recover the bodies and return them to their families. Distribute the supplies we brought—start the relief work!"
One member hesitated, stepping forward.
"But Yahiko, our supplies are already running low..."
A flicker of hesitation crossed Yahiko's face.
Akatsuki didn't have official backing from Amegakure. They relied entirely on themselves. Their work didn't earn them money, and they were constantly strapped for resources.
Still, his answer didn't change.
"Do it. That's an order."
The member nodded, worry lingering in his eyes, but this was the Yahiko they all followed—the one they believed in.
"Yes, sir!"
...
Nagato's eyes widened.
"Yahiko! Behind you!"
Yahiko instinctively twisted, catching sight of an Iwa-nin rushing at him with a kunai raised high. He pivoted, drawing his blade just in time to deflect the strike.
Steel clashed in the rain.
At the same time, other rogue shinobi burst from the shadows, cutting off the Akatsuki members who tried to help their leader.
Rain drummed on cold metal. In the glint of Yahiko's blade, the bloodied corpses on the flooded street were reflected.
The kunai-wielding Iwa-nin found his strength gradually overpowered by the orange-haired leader's unyielding push.
A glance at the battlefield showed Yahiko's comrades locked in fierce combat, unable to break through.
What they'd thought was easy prey turned out to be a nest of thorns.
The Iwa-nin cursed.
"Damn meddlers!"
"This isn't meddling!"
Yahiko stepped forward with force, his blade pushing the kunai aside and slashing back, forcing the attacker to retreat.
He charged, fury burning in his eyes.
"Why are you attacking innocent civilians?!"
The Iwa-nin deflected the strikes one after another, smirking at Yahiko's growing frustration.
"Innocent? This world runs on the law of the jungle."
That line hit Yahiko hard.
"No! It's exactly that twisted thinking that causes so much pain!"
"Tch. Big talk from a weakling of Amegakure."
"You're weak. That's why your people die."
He was deliberately trying to provoke him—and it worked.
Yahiko's blade grew wild, fueled by anger.
"Those who don't understand the rules of this world—die!"
The kunai sliced across Yahiko's arm, drawing blood.
But instinct overruled rage. Yahiko leapt back just in time.
"Water Style: Wild Water Wave!"
"Earth Style: Earthen Wall!"
The Iwa-nin was no stronger than Yahiko—both were chūnin level—but as a hardened veteran of the battlefield, he had a sharper sense for combat.
The mud wall rose, blocking the wave just in time.
Without pause, the Iwa-nin sprang from behind the wall and lunged again!
Nagato, having taken down his own opponent, turned swiftly.
"Wind Style: Gale Palm!"
Yahiko jumped high, and the powerful gust struck the Iwa-nin mid-charge, slamming him into the wall behind him.
Using the wind for momentum, Yahiko came down like a bolt of lightning—his blade driving through the man's chest and pinning him to the wall.
One strike. One kill.
A perfect team combo.
Yahiko stabbed again to make sure the rogue was dead, then exhaled, relieved. He glanced back at Nagato with a smile.
"Thanks, Nagato."
Nagato nodded in quiet acknowledgment.
With the strongest of the Iwa-nin down, Yahiko and Nagato rejoined the fight, quickly turning the tide. The remaining attackers were defeated.
Thankfully, none of Akatsuki's members had been lost—though a few were wounded.
They even managed to retrieve the villagers' stolen goods from the attackers' scrolls.
That was a huge relief—otherwise, they'd have had to cover the losses themselves from their meager funds.
After the battle, Akatsuki returned what had been taken, treated the wounded, buried the dead, and repaired the damaged buildings.
Only then did the villagers realize these shinobi weren't here to hurt them.
They were Akatsuki—a group fighting for peace.
...
Back at their base, Yahiko and Nagato were welcomed by Konan, who had stayed behind to hold down the fort.
After a few warm greetings and concerned questions, Yahiko noticed Konan seemed hesitant, like she had something to say.
"What's wrong, Konan?" he asked.
Seeing her two friends return safely allowed her to finally relax. She gathered her thoughts and said, "A messenger from Kirigakure came."
It had been not long after Yahiko and Nagato had left to respond to the village under attack.
A shinobi from Kirigakure had arrived, and since Konan was in charge of the base, she received him.
Yahiko and Nagato exchanged a puzzled glance.
"Kirigakure?"
It was a strange name to hear.
Compared to the bitter history they shared with Konoha, Iwagakure, and Sunagakure, they had almost no direct conflicts with Kirigakure or Kumogakure.
Still, to the people of Amegakure, all five of the great villages were the same—they all stirred up wars and caused pain.
They couldn't imagine why Kirigakure would take an interest in Akatsuki.
At the end of the day, Akatsuki was just a group of fewer than fifty unofficial shinobi.
Under Yahiko's leadership, they were doing things no ordinary ninja team would—but still, they weren't famous even in Amegakure. How did word of them reach across half a continent and a sea?
As the leader of Jiraiya's former team, Yahiko quickly made up his mind.
"Whatever the case, they came a long way. Let's at least hear them out."
Konan nodded.
"He's resting in the side room. I'll go bring him over."
...
The envoy sent by Yagura was just a regular shinobi.
The more famous ones—like Mangetsu and his gang—were scattered across missions and leveling up through commissions. Yagura hadn't bothered calling them back for this.
Sure, Akatsuki was important.
But it was also far away.
Yagura's priority was what was happening closer to home.
Akatsuki's base had no luxury guest room. The meeting was held in the communal dining hall—because it had a table.
Very humble and relatable.
Jiraiya's three students sat together.
Yahiko opened the conversation. "To our guest from Kirigakure—what brings you so far from home?"
The Mist-nin laid a scroll on the table and pushed it forward.
"Our operations in the Land of Rain require assistance from local forces. This scroll outlines our proposal and the conditions we're offering. Please, take a look."
He paused, then added, "Of course, we're referring to forces other than Amegakure's official shinobi."
In other words, they didn't want the official forces involved. Not even to know about it.
That didn't sound good.
Yahiko frowned. "Let me be clear—we won't help with anything that endangers our homeland."
The Mist-nin didn't argue.
"Please read it yourselves. I'm only here to deliver the message."
He was a soldier under Yagura—not a clerk or politician. Yahiko could tell there was no point negotiating with him.
He took the scroll and unrolled it, curious what kind of game Kirigakure was playing from across the sea.
----------------
Pls Drop some Power Stones
Fanfic is finished on Patreon (265 chapters in total.)
Patreon(.)com/Jixo (for only $4.50, read this entire fanfic)