A deep melancholy swelled within Black Zetsu, heavy enough to choke the air.
He could still understand why Emiya Shihara, in the distant age of myth, had placed his faith in Ashura. But why would that same man choose to trust Hashirama Senju in this era?
Yes, Hashirama had pacified the blood-soaked Warring States period.
But what came after?
Hashirama died, and war rose again like weeds after a fire.
Black Zetsu's yellow eyes glimmered as he whispered, half-to himself and half to the man before him:
> "Lord Morihara…
You were once called the smartest man in the entire history of the shinobi world…
For a thousand years I have followed the faint traces of your footsteps, yet even now I cannot draw a clear outline of the person you were."
His hoarse, gravel-rough voice deepened, almost pleading.
> "You should understand better than anyone that the peace Hashirama created is only temporary.
As long as there are shinobi in this world—
as long as greed festers in human hearts—
as long as no power stands above them to suppress that greed and restrain every village—
the fighting will never end!"
He spread his black-veined hands as if presenting the obvious truth.
> "It's useless, no matter how many times Ashura's chakra reincarnates.
When Hashirama Senju dies, the shinobi will begin new wars for their own interests.
Generation after generation will be forced to endure pain and tragedy from the moment they are born."
Black Zetsu's words thickened with reproach.
> "Lord Morihara… have you forgotten your own beliefs?
You bore pain that no one else could endure.
You fought to save people who could not save themselves.
Will you really stand by and watch them circle endlessly through the same misery?"
He thought of how much effort he had spent spreading the legend of Emiya Shihara throughout the shinobi world. He had believed—no, he had known—that the man before him would bring salvation. His voice cracked, part accusation and part prayer:
> "Mister Emiya once dreamed that future medical-nin would carry out his will.
Have you forgotten that?"
Emiya Shihara's brow furrowed. For the first time he looked almost cornered, as though trying to find someone else to blame for the burden of his choices.
> "Ashura once told me…" he began weakly.
> "Ashura is an arrogant fool!"
Black Zetsu cut him off before the name could become an excuse. He pressed on, desperate to pierce the man's heart:
> "If you had not believed that fool—
if you had chosen to kill Ashura, destroy the Shinobi Sect, and withdraw all chakra granted by the Sage of Six Paths—
this world would not have suffered a thousand years of war!
> The ones who brought this disaster are the descendants of the Sage himself, the disciples of that accursed sect!"
His voice echoed in the cavernous chamber, fading into a heavy silence.
Shihara said nothing.
For the first time, Black Zetsu sensed how much the man before him had changed. In the flicker of torchlight, Emiya Shihara almost looked dazed—as though Black Zetsu, not he, stood on the side of justice.
The thought unsettled him.
> How did it come to this? Shihara wondered.
A thin, humorless chuckle slipped from Black Zetsu.
> "Why don't you answer me?
Have you realized you were on the wrong path all along?"
Still no reply.
A prickle of unease crawled up Black Zetsu's spine. Had he been too harsh? Was he pushing his only hope away?
> "Black Zetsu."
Shihara's voice, low and heavy, cut through the tension. He bowed his head, his tone drained of all vitality—like a man who had lost faith not only in the world but in himself.
> "We… it's impossible."
Black Zetsu opened his mouth to retort, but Shihara lifted a hand.
> "Hear me out."
The words were calm but carried a finality that silenced even Kaguya's will made flesh. Shihara began speaking slowly, as though peeling away years of buried memories:
> "When I first received the power of the Sage of Six Paths, my immediate thought was to reclaim the chakra he had scattered.
But…"
He looked down at his pale fingers.
> "I studied the Sage's corpse myself.
I searched every remnant of his power.
Yet even the Wood Release drawn from the Divine Tree's remains, even the Samsara Eye bestowed upon me, could not retrieve chakra from those disciples.
> In the end, the only way to stop them was to kill without discrimination—good or evil alike—when I destroyed the Shinobi Sect."
His voice remained steady, but beneath that steadiness lay exhaustion, resignation, and guilt.
Black Zetsu's expression twitched. Because in truth… this failure was his own fault. He had never taught Emiya Shihara the correct method. Reclaiming chakra had always been a step toward resurrecting Kaguya, but he had underestimated how far this human would go.
He opened his mouth—
> "Just listen quietly."
Shihara's tone brooked no interruption. His eyes, dark with regret, fixed on the shadowy being before him.
> "Remember the Rabbit Goddess—Kaguya Ōtsutsuki—whom we once worshipped?"
Black Zetsu nodded quickly. How could he forget? Kaguya was not only the Rabbit Goddess but his mother. His entire existence revolved around reviving her from the seal imposed by her traitorous sons.
> "I believed then, and still believe now, that the Goddess of the Moon is capable of reclaiming chakra."
Shihara's voice softened as he revealed the secret he had carried for centuries.
> "A disciple of the Shinobi Sect whispered a forbidden truth to me—though I never knew if it was real.
The Goddess of the Moon was the mother of the Sage of Six Paths, the grandmother of Ashura and Indra.
If anyone could fairly distribute and retrieve chakra, it would be her.
> I hoped—no, I needed—that the Rabbit Goddess would transform chakra into a force to heal the world rather than a weapon to crush the weak.
> So when I gained the Sage's power and marched upon the Shinobi Sect, I had another goal beyond battle.
I intended to ask Ashura how to resurrect the Goddess of the Moon."
He exhaled slowly.
> "But in our clash, Ashura persuaded me to abandon that question.
The rest you already know."
Black Zetsu stared, momentarily speechless. He had never imagined Shihara had gone to such lengths—had even risked everything to bring Kaguya back.
For a heartbeat, something like admiration flickered in his black-streaked heart. If Emiya Shihara had known the true method, perhaps Kaguya could have been restored in the age of myth itself.
> "Actually…"
The beginnings of hope stirred in Black Zetsu, but Shihara's calm voice overrode him again.
> "Black Zetsu, listen.
I have been resurrected into this era.
I know the world has suffered a millennium of war.
I understand now how impulsive I was to believe Ashura's promise and spare the Shinobi Sect.
> But tell me—what use is my regret?
The Sage of Six Paths is long dead.
Ashura and Indra are dust.
They alone knew how to revive the Rabbit Goddess, and all traces of that knowledge have vanished.
> In this age the shinobi revere the Sage as a god of creation.
Ancient history has faded into mere legend."
His voice cracked faintly.
> "Black Zetsu… our path is severed.
We cannot reclaim the chakra of today's shinobi.
We cannot find any clue to the Rabbit Goddess's resurrection.
I cannot slaughter the entire world.
> Beyond clinging to Ashura's promise, I no longer know what else to do."
He let out a bitter laugh, a sound of despair rather than mirth.
> "I was never some omnipotent savior.
I was only a man once blessed by the Divine Tree.
I cannot do everything.
I cannot change the world alone.
> I'm sorry, Black Zetsu.
I failed to meet your expectations."
Silence stretched between them like a chasm. In that silence Shihara's confession settled over Black Zetsu, heavy and inescapable.
For the first time in a thousand years, the living shadow felt something dangerously close to pity.
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