The storm screamed around him.
Naruto's clone sprinted across the frozen wasteland, his golden chakra cloak cutting through the pale-white deathscape like a lone sun stubbornly refusing to die. Each step cracked the ice beneath him, little bursts of warmth searing the permafrost before it swallowed the heat whole.
The cloak flickered.
"Damn… even Kurama's chakra feels sluggish in here." His breath puffed out in ragged clouds, more labored than a clone should be. This wasn't just cold. This was hostile cold—an enemy in its own right, leeching vitality, slowing muscle and chakra flow alike.
The blizzard gnawed at his senses, too. His usually sharp perception was muffled, dulled. The entire domain felt like it wanted him disoriented — like it wanted him gone.
Through the thick wall of white, two silhouettes appeared: Gaara and Ōnoki.
The Kazekage stood firm but battered, his sand sluggishly coiling around his feet, visibly diminished. Beside him floated Ōnoki, hovering slightly off the ground, shoulders heavy and lips pressed in a grim line. They looked like survivors, not victors.
Naruto skidded to a stop, cloak flaring, the warmth of his presence pushing back the snow for a brief moment.
Naruto: "Hey! You guys okay? What the hell happened here—"
Ōnoki cut him off with a bark sharp enough to cut through the storm.
Ōnoki: "Don't engage!"
The old Tsuchikage's eyes didn't leave the swirling heart of the blizzard.
Ōnoki: "You don't understand what you're walking into."
Naruto's grin came quick, cocky but full of fire.
Naruto: "Then I'll just have to figure it out."
Gaara shifted slightly, his voice low, almost… pleading.
Gaara: "Naruto… don't. This isn't like anything you've fought before."
Naruto tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "You guys are making him sound like some kinda boogeyman."
Ōnoki's silence was telling enough.
Naruto turned back toward the storm. He felt it now — not just the cold, but a presence.
It wasn't chakra the way he understood it. It was weight. It pressed down on his chest, made his skin crawl under Kurama's cloak.
And then he saw him.
Renjiro.
Still as a statue, framed by jagged pillars of ice like a king entombed in his cathedral. His ashen Edo Tensei skin cracked faintly at the seams, veins of darkened chakra crawling under the surface. White hair whipped in the blizzard, feral and wild, yet somehow ordered in its chaos. His armor gleamed with rime and frost, jagged plates forged in the Warring States era, the silhouette of both shinobi and oni.
Even standing motionless, he looked like a ruin brought to life.
Naruto's cloak flared instinctively, sensing the danger.
Renjiro's head tilted slightly.
For the first time since awakening, his dead-white eyes flickered with recognition.
Renjiro: "That chakra… no…"
A pause. A breath.
Renjiro: "…impossible."
The words were soft, carried on the wind, but they pierced through the howl of the storm like steel through flesh.
Naruto bristled. "Huh?"
Renjiro didn't answer. He simply stared at the boy with the warmth of a sun inside him — and for a heartbeat, the blizzard seemed to slow, like the past itself had crept into the present.
It was the first emotion his face had shown since returning.
And it wasn't rage.
It was a memory.
---
Renjiro stepped down from the icy throne, each footfall making the frozen ground groan like the timbers of a dying cathedral. The jagged spires of his Cryo-Domain bent faintly toward him as if recognizing their master's movement.
Naruto straightened, forcing a grin despite the prickling unease crawling up his spine.
Naruto: "You're the one making all this mess? Not impressed."
His voice came out bolder than he felt, the Kurama cloak flaring around him — golden fire biting against the winter stillness.
Renjiro didn't answer at first. He simply circled.
Slow. Measuring. Predatory.
When he spoke, his voice was low and even, like the whisper of a dirge carried on the wind.
Renjiro: "That chakra… I've felt it before. Once, on a battlefield, drowned in blood."
Naruto tilted his head, forcing a cocky smirk.
Naruto: "You talking about Kurama?"
The name echoed through the air like a stone tossed in a still pond.
Renjiro stopped circling.
Renjiro: "No."
He shook his head slowly, as though disappointed at the guess.
Renjiro: "Not the beast. The man. Hashirama Senju."
Naruto's smirk faltered.
Renjiro's pale eyes seemed to pierce straight through him.
Renjiro: "An echo of a dead god… stitched into a boy."
The words hit like a thunderclap.
On the blizzard's edge, Gaara's breath hitched. Ōnoki's face hardened. The surrounding Allied shinobi who had managed to peek through the frost-shrouded battlefield stilled, their comms going silent.
Even Kurama stirred, his deep voice rumbling inside Naruto's mind — not with sarcasm or apathy, but with a rare, raw anger.
Kurama (growling): That one.
Naruto blinked. "What do you mean, that one?!"
Kurama: I remember his stench. That frozen bastard. He tried to bind me once — when I was still young. Before, even Hashirama put chains on me.
Naruto's hands clenched unconsciously. "He fought you? And lived?"
Kurama's voice sharpened into a snarl.
Kurama: He didn't just fight. He beat me. Pathetic humans don't get to do that.
As if hearing the demon's rage, Renjiro's gaze flicked toward Naruto's chest — toward Kurama's prison.
Renjiro: "Pathetic. Even in this era, you hide behind the beast."
His lip curled slightly, a shadow of disdain marring his otherwise calm face.
Renjiro: "Kurama. You're quieter than I remember. Still licking the wounds from the last time I put you down?"
Inside the seal, Kurama's roar shook the chamber of Naruto's mind.
Kurama: You little corpse…
Naruto: Hey, hey — focus!
Renjiro's nodachi slid free from his side with a shrill scream of metal on ice.
Renjiro: "Hashirama was a god. You…"
He took one deliberate step closer, his shadow stretching unnaturally long across the frost.
Renjiro: "…you are only his echo."
Naruto's grin returned, sharper this time, masking the tension clawing at his chest.
Naruto: "Then let's see how you handle an echo."
Renjiro tilted his head slightly, unimpressed, and lowered his blade.
Renjiro: "Come, boy. Let me hear what the dead god left behind."
--
The moment Renjiro said, "Come, boy," Naruto moved.
Golden chakra exploded outward, his cloak flaring like a miniature sun, untearing through the dead sky. Dozens of shadow clones burst into existence, flanking him in a perfect formation.
Naruto: "Let's see you handle this!"
They swarmed.
Renjiro didn't flinch.
The first clone swung — frozen solid mid-moti on. The second tried a feint — encased in jagged ice before landing the blow. By the third, it was obvious: Renjiro wasn't even striking them. His Cryo-Domain itself was killing them on contact, frost biting straight through Kurama's heat.
Naruto pushed through the opening, a massive Rasengan spinning in his palm.
Naruto: "RASENGAN!"
The strike came for Renjiro's chest —
CLANG.
The flat of Renjiro's nodachi intercepted it effortlessly.
And then the world exploded.
A shockwave of ice erupted outward from the impact, a frozen detonation that shattered the nearby ice pillars like glass. The backlash sent Naruto flying, cloak sputtering as he crashed and rolled across the permafrost.
Inside his head, Kurama snarled.
Kurama: Idiot! You're not thinking — you're charging at something you don't understand!
Naruto staggered to his feet, spitting blood, forcing a grin.
Naruto: Relax, fuzzball. I've got this.
Kurama: You don't "got" anything! That isn't a man you're fighting — that's a Warring States monster!
Naruto dashed again, clones respawning mid-run, but the smirk on his face didn't falter.
Naruto: "You think I'm just some replacement for the guys you fought back then?!"
Renjiro's head tilted, his gaze calm, impassive.
Renjiro: "Replacement? No."
He walked forward, the nodachi dragging across the ice with a low, bone-chilling scrape.
Renjiro: "You're their shadow."
Naruto blitzed again — faster this time, his chakra cloak flaring like a wildfire.
Renjiro didn't parry. He sidestepped with inhuman precision, almost like he knew Naruto's move before he made it.
And then —
Two fingers.
That's all it took.
Renjiro pressed them lightly against Naruto's chest.
FSPREADSPREAD INSTANTLY.
It crawled across his chakra cloak like living veins of ice, biting past Kurama's fire, searing cold that burned worse than flame.
Naruto gasped, staggering back, the chill cutting through his chakra like it wasn't even there.
Kurama roared in his head, his voice now edged with fury.
Kurama: You feel that?! That's him suppressing your chakra! This isn't a simple bloodline jutsu — tan hat's ancient battlefield technique. This bastard has fought gods, boy!
Renjiro tilted his head, fingers still faintly raised as though tasting the cloak's warmth.
Renjiro: "Yes… Hashirama's warmth. But…"
He lowered his hand, expression unchanged.
Renjiro: "There's another. Faint. Like smoke after a fire."
Naruto blinked, confused, breath fogging in the cold.
Naruto: "The hell are you talking about?"
Renjiro stepped closer, blade dragging, eyes narrowing for the first time with faint interest.
Renjiro: "Madara. His scent clings to you. His memory lingers. Whose flesh carries him now? I want to know."
Naruto stiffened. He didn't know what to say — didn't fully understand what Renjiro was sensing.
Renjiro's pale eyes gleamed faintly in the blizzard.
Renjiro: "Answer me… or I'll carve it out of you."
Naruto's cloak flared again.
Naruto: "You'll have to try!"
Renjiro didn't smirk. Didn't laugh. He simply vanished.
Not a flicker step. Not speed. It was as if the world skipped a frame — like time itself stuttered — and suddenly, he was behind Naruto.
--
Alliance comms erupted with panic.
"Reinforcements frozen on entry!"Unknown reanimation—he's tearing through Naruto's clone!"Fourth Company requesting immediate support!"
Voices bled into one another, but the fear cut through the static, clear as day.
Temari stood at the edge of the frost field, her fan clenched tightly, eyes darting between the blizzard's heart and the Alliance forces gathering behind her.
Temari: "Who IS this guy?!"
For a moment, no one answered.
Then Ōnoki floated forward, his back hunched, eyes fixed on the figure dominating the storm. He raised his voice, forcing it to carry over the blizzard:
Ōnoki: "Renjiro Yuki. The Ice Requiem."
The name landed like a hammer.
The Alliance chatter stopped. Even the snow seemed to hush.
Some of the shinobi from the Land of Water froze mid-step, their eyes going wide.
Mist-nin (whispering): "…No. That's not possible. He's dead. He's been dead for generations."
Another, older kunoichi — her headband tarnished with age — whispered like she was speaking of a ghost:
Old Mist-nin: "I heard my grandfather speak his name once. He said… wherever the Ice Requiem walked, the sky wept snow for weeks. The bodies froze where they fell. And the land stayed dead long after the war left it behind."
Ōnoki glanced back at her briefly, his expression grim.
Ōnoki: "Your grandfather wasn't exaggerating."
Gaara stepped forward, his voice calm but heavy with understanding.
Gaara: "A legend from the Warring States… one who turned the Land of Water into a graveyard. They said his blizzards didn't end until every heartbeat stilled."
The words carried across the comms. Even those not present could feel it — the myth taking form in real time.
Naruto, panting and bruised, growled under his breath.
Naruto: "I don't care what his name is. He's not stopping me."
But before anyone else could speak, Renjiro's voice cut through the storm.
Cold. Detached. Absolute.
Renjiro: "Legends are for the living."
He stepped forward, dragging his nodachi lightly across the ice.
Renjiro: "I am only the requiem."
The wind howled louder, almost in answer.
And in that moment, everyone — from the youngest genin to the war-worn veterans — understood:
This wasn't a battle.
It was a funeral.
--
Naruto's cloak fractured, cracks of frost running across the golden chakra like veins of glass. The bitter cold bit deep — not just into his skin, but into his core, the fire of Kurama's chakra guttering as if starved of air.
Renjiro stood before him, unhurried, the blizzard bending to his presence.
He raised his nodachi high, both hands on the hilt. The blade caught what little light remained, turning it into a pale, deathly gleam.
Renjiro: "Your warmth… your fire… all borrowed. Nothing of your own."
Naruto gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand.
Naruto: "Shut up—!"
Renjiro cut him off, his tone colder than the ice around them.
Renjiro: "Sasuke Uchiha."
Naruto blinked. "What—?!"
Renjiro tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing with faint interest.
Renjiro: "That is the one. The other echo that clings to you."
Naruto's breath hitched. "How the hell do you—"
Kurama's voice boomed in his mind, sharper than ever.
Kurama: When he touched you — when his fingers reached your chest — he wasn't just freezing you.
Naruto: What?
Kurama: He started a sealing technique. He looked into your mind, brat. He took what he wanted. Every memory. Every face.
Naruto's blood ran colder than the frost.
Naruto: You mean—
Kurama: Yes. He saw Sasuke. He saw everything.
Naruto's hands trembled slightly at his sides. His breath came ragged, fogging thick in the dead air.
Renjiro watched him unravel with unsettling calm.
Renjiro: "So. You carry Hashirama's warmth. You cling to Madara's shadow. But neither of you… are the real thing."
He stepped forward, dragging the blade through the ice with a low, screeching scrape.
Renjiro: "You and the Uchiha boy… are nothing but weaklings dressed in the remnants of gods."
Naruto growled and stepped forward, but Renjiro moved faster.
In one blink, he was above Naruto, blade raised for the killing blow.
Kurama roared in his head.
Kurama: MOVE!
But Naruto couldn't. The weight of the Cryo-Domain pinned him like a grave.
The strike never landed.
A blinding flash of white — Dust Release — detonated between them, the beam tearing through Renjiro's path and splintering the ice around them like glass.
Ōnoki floated above, chest heaving, hands trembling from the force of the jutsu.
Ōnoki: "Enough… monster."
The smoke and frost parted.
Renjiro stood unharmed, his blade lowered, stepping back calmly as though the strike had been no more than an inconvenience.
Kabuto's voice slithered across the battlefield, faint but unmistakable — smug, almost delighted.
Kabuto: "Ohhh… so the Alliance has finally learned his name."
He chuckled softly, the sound echoing in Renjiro's ears like a serpent's hiss.
Kabuto: "Tell me… how does it feel to face the man even Madara once treated with caution?"
Far from the battlefield, Madara stood atop his killing field, watching through the threads of chakra tethering them.
A small, rare smile touched his lips.
Madara (murmuring): "It's been a long time since I've seen you like this, Renjiro."
He closed his eyes for a moment, memory washing over him like blood on the battlefield.
Madara: "You, me, and Hashirama… fighting until the sky broke."
His smile widened, equal parts fond and dangerous.
Madara: "Hn. It truly does bring back happy memories."
Back in the frozen heart of the Cryo-Domain, Renjiro turned his back to Naruto, walking calmly to the shattered center of the battlefield.
He planted his nodachi into the ice and sat upon the jagged throne he'd carved earlier, its spires forming a grotesque silhouette against the blizzard.
His pale eyes found Naruto's.
Renjiro (softly): "More names for the grave."
Naruto shivered — not from the cold, but from the weight of the words.
The storm howled around them.