The rain never really left him. Even here, where heat clung like a physical force, Reikh could have sworn he still heard it. The constant patter on tin roofs, the drizzle seeping into shattered streets. Hidden Rain had scarred him too deeply to be ever washed away.
He sat with the flat of his back against the thick trunk of a tree, arms hung loosely on his knees. Quiet. Still. His golden eyes roamed idly from one to another of the two figures huddled beside him—his teammates.
They were… odd.Yeah, goddamn freaks, he mused.
Neither of them could remain still for five seconds. Nervous wrecks, both of them. And still, some way, they were expected to be comrades.
Reikh exhaled slowly, allowing their voices to recede into the background. His eyes drifted upward through the canopy, where shafts of light slashed through the leaves. And in that light, memories began to move.
A year before, he had been different.
Ordinary.
He recalled the screen light of a computer. The musty smell of a small room. Interminable hours spent browsing accounts of worlds foreign to him. His life had been a monotony of dullness and ennui, an empty one where every day blurred into the next.
And then there was the end—death. Too sudden to appreciate, too mundane to be afraid. He had anticipated nothingness, the ultimate comfort of quiet.
But rather. rain.
When he opened his eyes, the world had changed. He wasn't in his bed, or even on Earth. He lay in a muddy alley, smaller, weaker, but very much alive. Above him, black clouds poured endlessly, soaking the city in a curtain of water. And beside him, a cracked headband of the Hidden Rain.
He had smiled back then. The kind of smile that surfaces when reality shatters. He was familiar with this place. He knew this world.
The world of shinobi.Naruto.
It had been a year since then. A year of silence, observation, of adjustment. He picked up things fast, concealed his real self, and let others assume he was just another genin.
But now. Reikh had discovered something odd.
It began with whispers. He thought he was going crazy. He would hear soft murmurs when there were people around him—not their words, but something underneath.
I want.
I need.
If only.
It wasn't arbitrary. It was what they really wanted. Their secret desires.
At first, he ignored it. But the whispers became louder, clearer. Before long, he knew it was real. He could actually hear what people wanted more than anything.
And then there was the second half. The part that was risky. If he reached back—if he concentrated—he could grant those wishes. but he never attempted becouse he was in rain village and. he was not going to take chances.
But it had happened for the first time in the Rain Village. There was a starving boy who had longed for food. Reikh had heard the thought so strongly it had pounded his head: I'd do anything to eat.
Reikh had lightly placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and whispered:
"Then give me something, and I'll make sure you eat."
The very next day, the boy received food he could never have managed. And Reikh felt. different. Stronger.
Did he feel guilty? No. Not at all.
Now, in the Forest of Death, Reikh leaned against the tree, observing his teammates squirming. He didn't even need to pay attention in order to hear what sat within their hearts.
I don't want to die here.
I have to prove myself.
Reikh smirked slightly.
Is this the power he has?
Reikh's smile dissolved as fast as it had appeared. His face went back to its normal blank mask, golden eyes half-closed. He sat there, immobile as a statue, as his teammates whispered and fidgeted like insects underfoot.
What to do. What to do.
He wasn't returning to the Rain. No way in hell. It wasn't a village—it was a jail. A city submerged in gray skies and silence, where individuals lived just long enough to die for another's scheme. Ame shinobi didn't receive dreams. They received directives.
And he'd had his fill of being given directions.
The Forest of Death… this was different. Hazardous, to say the least. But hazard was liberation. If he played his cards correctly, no one would ever be able to lead him back through those never-ending alleys.
Reikh subtly changed position, causing his hand to graze against the wet soil. His teammates didn't notice, too caught up in their jitters. He nearly chuckled. They believed him to be one of them. Another anxious genin. Another pawn.
Idiots.
Reikh shut his eyes and rested his head against the trunk of the tree, allowing the pressure of the forest to bear down. Rain or not, this was his opportunity. No chains. No master. Only him and the voices.
He'd choose what to do next.
Not the village. Not his teammates. Him.
Always him.
Just as Reikh was sinking into his thoughts, the whispers chancged.
Louder.
Blood. Kill. I want blood.
His eyes snapped open, golden irises gleaming in the gloom. Those weren't his teammates' desires.??