The world around him was a realm of endless sky, painted in hues of gold and soft pink as the first light of dawn stretched across the heavens. Renjiro lay nestled in the thick plumage of Uno's feathers, his body rising and falling gently with the great eagle's rhythmic flight. They had been flying for hours.
The cool morning breeze brushed against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from Uno's body beneath him. His fingers absentmindedly toyed with the two scrolls Hiruzen had entrusted to his clone mere hours ago.
One of them bore the unmistakable seal of the Hokage—an ornate wax emblem pressed into the parchment, its edges firm and unbroken. Renjiro knew better than to tamper with such a scroll; even if his curiosity gnawed at him, the contents were meant for the Mizukage's eyes alone. The second scroll, however, was far less secretive—a simple storage scroll, its surface unassuming. Renjiro had a solid guess as to what lay within, though a part of him wished otherwise.
His mind wandered as he turned the scrolls in his grasp, the rising sun casting a golden glow over his hands.
It was moments like this—floating above the world, removed from the chaos of the shinobi lands below—that made him wonder.
'I wonder why the shinobi villages never explored past their continent.'
The thought lingered in his mind, more than just idle curiosity. Every major and minor shinobi village was situated on the same landmass, a vast territory surrounded by the enigmatic Sea of Death. It wasn't the only continent in the world—Renjiro knew that for a fact.
Sasuke Uchiha, in his travels, had discovered ruins of the Otsutsuki Clan, remnants of a civilization lost to time. But those ruins weren't on the known continent. They were elsewhere. Somewhere beyond the reach of any shinobi nation.
His brow furrowed as the idea churned in his mind.
"Does it have something to do with the Otsutsuki?" he muttered under his breath, his Sharingan flickering for a moment before he calmed himself. There was something there—an unspoken truth lurking beneath history, a hidden thread connecting the past and the present.
But now wasn't the time to chase that mystery.
"Anyway, I'll probably explore it after the war," he sighed, shaking his head as he twirled the two scrolls between his fingers. There were more pressing matters to handle first.
Renjiro had always been someone who thought ahead and prepared for contingencies before they could even unfold. His modified storage seals were proof of that. Unlike standard storage seals, which required a single access point, Renjiro had designed his to allow retrieval from two separate locations.
A seemingly small innovation, but in the right circumstances, it could mean the difference between life and death.
He had toyed with the idea of selling the modified seals—imagine the fortune he could make—but dismissed the thought almost immediately. If this type of seal became widespread, it would render standard storage seals obsolete, and Renjiro still had a vested interest in that market. His financial network relied heavily on their demand, and disrupting the balance would only cause him more trouble in the long run.
But in moments like these, when time was of the essence, the modification proved invaluable.
Uno's powerful wings cut through the sky, slicing through the dawn's light as they pressed forward. After the Kage Summit, Hiruzen had informed him of this mission in advance, allowing Renjiro ample time to plan his departure. He hadn't left Konoha the traditional way—no, that would've been far too slow. Instead, he had taken a different route, one that only a handful of people in the world could even attempt.
He had reverse summoned himself to the Floating Islands.
It was Tenjin who had first given him insight into their general location, and Renjiro had quickly deduced that the distance between Kirigakure and the Floating Islands was almost identical to the distance between Konoha and Kirigakure, but on different sides. That meant he would not cut out a significant portion of the journey, but secretly making his way to Kirigakure without alerting any shinobi power was something he liked.
He exhaled slowly and turned his focus to the storage scroll, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. With a swift flick of his fingers, he unravelled the parchment and pressed his palm against its surface, channelling a small pulse of chakra into the seal.
A soft pop echoed through the air as the stored item materialized before him.
The Kabutowari.
Renjiro's eyes darkened slightly as he reached for the weapon, his fingers tracing the worn handle. The famed weapon of the Mist—a combination of a heavy axe and a hammer, capable of breaking through any defence. A weapon of pure destruction, built for overwhelming force.
And now, it was in his hands.
His grip tightened as old memories resurfaced, memories of the battle that had led to this very moment. The Kabutowari had fallen into Konoha's possession because of his actions, and now, as part of the uneasy negotiations between the two villages, Hiruzen was sending him to return it.
"I could have been killed by this sword, and now Hiruzen wants me to deliver it back?" he muttered bitterly, his jaw tightening.
There was something distasteful about it. He knew the logic behind it—diplomacy had its games, and pieces had to be moved in calculated ways. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shift beneath him.
Uno's body tensed, feathers bristling as the great eagle tilted its head slightly.
"Hold on." Uno's voice was steady, but there was an underlying urgency to it.
Renjiro didn't hesitate. Without question, he tightened his grip against Uno's feathers, bracing himself just as the eagle suddenly dipped.
A rush of wind roared past his ears as Uno folded its wings slightly, sending them into a sharp descent. The world around them blurred as they plunged into the thick blanket of clouds below, a sea of mist swallowing them whole.
For a moment, everything was white. The air grew colder, damp with moisture, and visibility dropped to almost nothing. Renjiro kept his body steady, relying entirely on Uno's instincts to guide them through.
And then—
They broke through.
The sky opened up once more, but the world below had changed.
Renjiro's breath caught for a brief second as he took in the sight before him.
The Sea of Death.
It stretched endlessly, a vast and unforgiving expanse of dark waters, its surface rippling with unseen currents. Even from this height, Renjiro could feel the ominous energy radiating from it, as if the ocean itself harboured secrets best left undisturbed.
And there—
Amidst the endless waves, shrouded by wisps of mist, was a solitary blot of land.
Kirigakure.
It was smaller than he expected, or perhaps the sheer size of the sea made it appear that way. The village was nestled between towering cliffs and jagged rock formations, almost as if the land itself sought to keep it hidden from prying eyes. A thick mist clung to its edges, obscuring the finer details, but Renjiro knew without a doubt—this was his destination.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
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