In the rain.
Tsunade looked confused.
What shocked her even more was yet to come.
Suddenly.
Shua.
Duan extended his left arm from under the cloak, parallel to the ground.
That giant arm was thicker than Tsunade's thigh, with tire-like bulging deltoid muscles, biceps round as if carved from stone, strong triceps swelling at the back, and a forearm dense with corded veins.
Perfect symmetry, overwhelming power.
This arm was living muscle art.
The next second, his palm slowly opened, and a blue crystal necklace dangled loosely from his fingers.
That necklace… looked familiar.
Tsunade lowered her head abruptly, only to realize with horror that her chest was bare—her treasured necklace had vanished without her noticing, and was now in Duan's possession.
This crystal pendant was a relic of the First Hokage, a jewel infused with Hashirama's chakra, powerful enough to suppress the Nine-Tails.
It was her most cherished treasure.
Now, Tsunade felt a dull pain in her chest, as though the necklace had been ripped away along with part of her soul.
"How can this be?!"
When she saw the heirloom in his hand, Tsunade's mind buzzed in disbelief, unable to grasp how he had stolen it without her even perceiving the movement.
"This is the last warning. If you continue to pursue me, I will not hold back."
Duan's tone was calm as he pocketed the necklace like a trophy.
He was not the type to kill indiscriminately. Tsunade had sought him out before, so their clash had been her provocation, not his. He bore her no hatred—but if she pressed further, he would show no mercy.
"..."
Tsunade's lips trembled, but she remained silent. Though fury lingered in her eyes, her body instinctively froze under the weight of his warning.
Several seconds passed.
Under her watchful gaze, the man finally turned, moving towards her step by step.
Where he walked, the falling rain split and veered away, never once touching his cloak or hat.
Gulp.
Tsunade swallowed, fists clenched tight. She forced herself not to blink, every muscle taut as a bowstring.
Ten meters. Five meters. One meter.
Until zero distance.
The man did not so much as glance at her, simply brushing past in silence.
Tsunade dared not raise a hand. Yet in that instant, her eyes caught the faint side-profile under the bamboo hat—marked by a purple five-pointed star birthmark beneath his left neck.
And then Duan was gone.
Vanishing into the storm, his figure dissolved into the forest's shadows.
Tsunade slowly turned her head, but the woods held no trace of him, not even the lingering feel of his chakra.
Plop.
Her tense body collapsed into the mud. She sat there in the downpour, too shaken to move, rain drumming ceaselessly upon her.
…
The border of the Land of Fire.
Boom.
In a canyon, explosive tags ignited in violent bursts, flames billowing skyward.
Just as the Third Hokage feared, the Prajna from the Land of Woods betrayed Konoha. When Might Guy's team exposed them, battle erupted immediately.
But against Kai's squad and Kakashi's Anbu reinforcements, the enemy stood no chance. The clash ended swiftly, one-sided.
On the scorched ground—
With eyes cold, Itachi wiped his blade clean. Silently, he moved among the fallen, thrusting his sword into each body. The screams echoed briefly, then silence. No survivors.
Anbu's mission left no room for mercy.
Guy, with his unshakable optimism, stood pale and shaken. To him, such ruthless efficiency was unthinkable. But for Itachi, who had taken life since childhood, this was only routine.
He could never erase the memory of the battlefield his father once forced him to witness:
Corpses piled high, shinobi of every nation twisted in death, rivers of blood like the streams of hell.
From that day, Itachi resolved to become strong enough to end war itself. To be Hokage, the one to change the world.
And yet, as conflict between Uchiha and Konoha grew inevitable, he stood caught between two paths.
He checked the time. If he hurried, he might still make the clan meeting.
Relief touched his face.
On the way back—
"Captain." Itachi broke the silence. "You are not Uchiha, yet you wield a Sharingan. So… which side do you truly belong to?"
Was it Uchiha? Or the village?
It was a question not only for Kakashi, but for himself.
"I've never thought about it that way."
Kakashi shook his head. His voice was steady, almost indifferent. "This Sharingan was entrusted to me by a friend. To me, it's a reminder—that nothing matters more than protecting comrades."
Itachi listened quietly, thoughtful.
He had heard rumors that Kakashi once abandoned comrades for missions, yet the man before him spoke otherwise. Perhaps the truth was different.
Still—
For Uchiha, for Konoha, for himself… the conflict within Itachi remained unresolved.
Konoha.
Duan returned to the familiar alley. Ahead, his gym had opened early, though as always, few customers were inside.
He pushed open the door.
"Curator, you're back!" Samui's voice lit with relief.
"During my absence, nothing unusual happened, right?" His tone was casual.
"No, everything has been calm."
"Good." Duan nodded.
He had expected Danzo, after failing to eliminate him, to lash out at Samui—kidnap her, perhaps kill her to vent frustration.
But nothing had happened. Danzo's patience was surprising, if only slightly.
After collecting a box of banknotes, Duan paused and turned back.
"Your birthday is soon, isn't it?"
"Yes… in three days. Thank you for remembering, Curator." Samui bowed politely.
Without hesitation, Duan produced the crystal necklace taken from Tsunade and placed it into her hands.
Samui's eyes widened. Flustered, she tried to return it.
"Curator, this is far too precious—I cannot accept."
She could feel its value instantly, its craftsmanship exquisite, the crystal rare.
"I picked it up at a roadside stall. It's nothing."
Duan's excuse was offhand. Before she could protest further, he turned and walked away.
He knew full well this was the First Hokage's necklace, brimming with Mokuton chakra, even capable of restraining a Jinchūriki.
But he also knew its curse. Every bearer Tsunade gave it to—her brother, her lover—had died tragically.
Duan wished to test if that curse was real.
Samui, a kunoichi from Kumogakure and a spy in his gym, was the perfect subject. She was not one of his own.
Samui, oblivious to his intent, admired herself in the mirror, slipping the necklace around her neck. The crystal rested cool against her chest, a refreshing sensation.
She smiled faintly. She liked it.
"Curator… could it be you're trying to court me?"
Her cheeks warmed as she muttered to herself, fingers brushing the crystal, her heart caught in conflicted thoughts.