Chapter 55

The sun broke over the horizon, chasing away the remnants of night.

Mito made her way back to the villa. With the help of Kuro and his shadow soldiers, she managed to restore the once-dilapidated structure to its former glory.

After the cleanup, Mito placed several protective seals around the villa. Clair, one of Kuro's shadow soldiers who specialized in illusion magic, layered illusion spells over the seals. With their work complete, the villa once again appeared abandoned and rundown to any outside observer.

"Got to go now, Lady Mito," Kuro said abruptly before vanishing.

"What's gotten into him, leaving in such a hurry?" Mito wondered, but she didn't dwell on it. She returned to arranging the villa's interior, aided by a few shadow soldiers Kuro had left behind.

***

Kuro reappeared in his room, where he found Kisara sleeping peacefully on his futon.

He sensed the presence of his parents, already awake and sitting in the living room.

He stepped out quietly. The moment he entered the living room, both his parents snapped to attention.

Kigan shot to his feet, his kunai already drawn, eyes wide with disbelief and suspicion.

"You! Who are you?! What are you doing in our house?" he demanded.

Kuro froze. It had been decades since he'd last seen them, and now, standing just a few feet away, he barely recognized them.

His father, once towering and strong, now stood with a missing arm and deep scars etched across his face and remaining hand.

His mother, Kokomi, limped toward her husband, a long, jagged scar slicing down her cheek.

'What the hell happened when I was gone?' Kuro clenched his jaw. Fury burned in his chest, but he forced it down. 'Now's not the time.'

He raised his hands slowly, keeping his voice low and steady.

"It's me… Kuro. I'm home."

Kigan didn't lower the blade. His eyes narrowed, voice trembling.

"Don't lie to me. Our son went out to train with his master 4 years ago. He should be around 11 years old right now, not 18 plus."

Unlike Kigan, Kokomi stepped forward, tears already pooling in her eyes as she looked at Kuro.

"Kuro?" she whispered. Her mother's instinct told her that this was her son.

"Yes, Mom. It's me." Kuro nodded. "I know I look way older than I should be, but there is a reason for that. It is a long story. Want to hear it?"

Kokomi dropped her kunai and rushed toward her son, hugging him tightly.

Soon, Kuro was sitting on a sofa with his parents sitting across from him.

"To start, do you know about the Roran?" Kuro asks his parents.

Both look at him before shaking their head.

"We heard of it but don't know anything about that place."

Kuro scratched his head, thinking about how to explain the situation. Well, mostly a made-up situation since he couldn't possibly tell them the truth.

"Well, my master brought me to Roran and told me to investigate the area. While investigating, I got caught in an ancient chakra flow beneath the city. I got trapped in the chakra flow and was unable to escape. For ten years, I was trapped until my master rescued me. I learn from him that only three years had passed since I went missing."

Kuro leaned back slightly, watching their faces as his words sank in. Kokomi's eyes widened, her hands tightening around the cup in her lap.

"Ten years… trapped?" she whispered. "But only three passed here…"

Kigan's jaw clenched. "And your master just left you there? For three years without rescuing you?"

Kuro hesitated, then shook his head. "He knew about the ancient chakra flow and wanted me to stumble across it during my investigation. He wanted the chakra flow to help me in my training by increasing my capacity and sensitivity to chakra. He just doesn't realize the ancient chakra flow also affected time."

Kokomi reached across the table and placed her hand on his. "You must have suffered."

"I survived," Kuro said quietly. "That's what matters."

Kuro felt their worries and felt warm inside. But as he looked at them and saw their state, his fury rose again.

"So, how about you tell me what happened to both of you?" Kuro finally asked.

Kokomi withdrew her hand slowly, her eyes lowering to the table. Kigan didn't look away—he met Kuro's gaze with the tired resolve of a man who'd buried too much already.

"You sure you want to know?" Kigan asked gravelly.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't," Kuro replied, jaw tight. "Tell me."

Kokomi spoke first.

"Do you remember we left for the mission to patrol the border close to the Land of Waterfall?" Kokomi asks.

"Yes." Kuro nodded.

"It was about a year after you left, and we were getting ready to come back to the village to report the completion of the mission," Kokomi said. "We were attacked by rogue ninjas, with no affiliation."

Kokomi's eyes darkened as the memories stirred, her voice growing colder with each word.

"There were eight of them. Maybe more in the shadows. They came out of nowhere—masked, silent, fast. No village symbols, no colors. Just killers."

"We thought they were simple bandits at first," Kigan cut in, his tone harsh. "Until they started using chakra suppression techniques. These weren't wanderers. They were trained."

Kuro's fingers curled against his thigh. "And they knew you were there?"

"They didn't stumble on us," Kokomi confirmed. "They were waiting for us. It was an ambush."

She glanced at Kigan, her voice faltering just slightly. "We fought as hard as we could. But they were prepared. They split us up. We couldn't cover each other."

Kigan stood, pacing once before stopping near the window. "One of them had a blade laced with sealing runes. He cut through my shoulder with a single strike—my chakra flow shattered instantly. Lost the arm before I even hit the ground."

Kuro's breath hitched.

"I tried to reach him," Kokomi whispered, pain flashing in her eyes. "But one of them cast a genjutsu on me. I didn't even know I was bleeding until it broke."

Kuro's gaze drifted to the jagged scar across her face. "That's when you got that?"

She nodded.

"They didn't kill us," Kigan finally said, turning back to face his son. "They wanted us to live. Barely."

"After three days in captivity," Kokomi said, her voice steady but worn, "a group of Leaf Anbu found their hideout and managed to rescue us."

She paused, glancing at Kigan, who gave a small nod for her to continue.

"From them, we learned the assailants were working for the Rain Village. They were after information, specifically about talented ninjas in the Leaf. They…" Her voice faltered, just slightly. "They asked about you."

Kuro's expression didn't change, but his mind went razor-sharp.

Rain Village? That didn't sit right with him. According to what he knows, the Rain Village never did anything like this. Hanzo the Salamander was not that kind of person.

The part that bothered him more than anything: how the Anbu just happened to locate the hideout in three days. And why, out of all the shinobi, were the captors asking about him?

'Were they tipped off? Were my parents bait?'

His hand curled into a fist, fingers trembling slightly with restrained fury.

'And if the Rain Village was just a front… who's really behind this?' Kuro has an idea of who that could be.

But without solid proof, he wouldn't strike. Not yet. Still, if his suspicion proved true… that man wouldn't be granted the mercy of death.

"Did you see any of the assailants' bodies after you were rescued?" Kuro asked, eyes locked onto his father.

Kigan shook his head slowly. "Unfortunately, no. We were barely conscious when the Anbu pulled us out. Just remember being told we were safe… and then waking up in the village's medical ward."

They hadn't seen a thing. Convenient.

Outwardly, Kuro remained composed—but internally, his fury twisted and burned like an unchecked wildfire. It was getting harder to contain.

Just then, Kokomi clapped her hands, her tone deliberately bright. "Enough of this depressing talk." She gave them both a warm smile. "Since our son is finally back, why don't we celebrate? The best restaurant in the village is still open, and I'm craving dumplings."

Kuro blinked, then let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His mother's lightheartedness—so familiar, so unchanged—cooled the fire in his chest, if only slightly.

He gave a small nod. "That… sounds good." But as he agreed, a shadow detached from his own and flickered silently.

'Go,' he ordered Niji, one of his elite. 'Take your squad. I want the full truth—every detail of what happened to them.'

Right then, his bedroom door creaked open. Kisara stepped out, rubbing her eyes, hair tousled, still in her pajamas.

She yawned, blinking at the small group gathered in the living room. "Mmm… what's all the noise…?"

Kuro froze as he felt two pairs of eyes zero in on him—his parents' glares practically drilling into his skull.

But before he could explain, his mother called Kisara over and told her to sit beside her.

Kisara glanced at Kuro, catching the light sweat on his brow. A mischievous smirk curled her lips.

She walked straight over to Kokomi and, without missing a beat, threw herself into her arms, letting out an exaggerated wail.

"Uwahhhh! Mother! Kuro is a big, bad bully!" she sobbed. "He was so mean to me!"

Kuro sat there, completely gobsmacked.

"What… the hell…" he muttered under his breath, watching his mother immediately switch to protective mode, cradling Kisara like a long-lost daughter.

Kigan gave Kuro a long, silent look, a kunai still in hand. "So. This is what you have been up to after escaping the chakra flow, huh?"

"I—what?!" Kuro looked helplessly between all three of them, pointing at Kisara like she'd just committed high treason. "She's lying! I didn't do anything!"

Kisara peeked up from Kokomi's shoulder, her tears gone and her smile wicked. "That's what all bullies say!"

For the rest of the day, Kuro found himself… grounded.

Worse, he was forced to sit through an awkward interrogation from his parents, stumbling through a half-baked explanation of how he "met" Kisara—carefully skirting the details that might raise more questions.

Meanwhile, Kisara was treated like royalty.

Kokomi and Kigan took her out to celebrate—his return, supposedly—leaving Kuro alone in the house like some sulking prisoner.

He stood in the middle of the now-empty living room, arms crossed, eye twitching.

'Mom! Didn't you say we were celebrating my return?!'

His voice echoed into the silence, met only by the faint creak of a shadow soldier sweeping under a table.

They were even avoiding eye contact. Not wanting to become an outlet for their Lord's troubles.