The Village Hidden in the Sound was not truly a village.
Not in the sense Arata knew from anime or shinobi history books.
It was a labyrinth.
An endless network of tunnels, laboratories, and halls carved from stone, reinforced with steel, resonating with a constant, unceasing echo.
The air smelled of dampness and fresh ink.
Torches flickered in corridors where every shadow seemed to move on its own.
It was a village built not for living, but for hiding.
Arata walked in silence, following the symbols etched into the walls: inverted musical notes and Sound-based runes. Since his awakening, he had been left free to "acclimate," according to Kabuto. But every time he turned a corner, he could feel eyes watching him from ventilation shafts or through cracks in the panels.
So this is Otogakure…
There were no villagers, no markets, no children running. Only ninjas, scientists, and men in lab coats stained with dried blood.
Some carried scrolls, others jars of green liquid or sealed parts of what looked like organs.
The sound of metal on stone snapped him from his thoughts.
Turning, he saw a group of shinobi training in a circular space. There were no trees, no sun: only a steel dome illuminated by harsh white lamps.
Dosu was there, standing beside two younger figures.
One had spiky hair, pale skin, and an arrogant expression. The other, a girl with dark eyes, black hair tied in a ponytail, and an aura that was calm yet sharp.
Zaku Abumi. Kin Tsuchi.
The Sound Three.
The very ones he remembered from the Chunin Exams.
Arata watched them for a moment, feeling a stab of strange nostalgia and sadness.
They don't know… what awaits them in Konoha…
Dosu noticed him immediately.
"Well, the new kid. I thought you'd gotten lost in the passages."
Zaku looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow.
"This is the 'new subject' Kabuto mentioned? Doesn't look like much."
"Neither did you the first time I saw you," Kin replied without raising her voice, sharpening a kunai with a metallic wire. "And look, you're still breathing."
Zaku grunted.
"Tch, shut up."
Dosu cut them off, nodding toward Arata.
"Kabuto said you might join our practices. If you're coming to Konoha with us, you'd better not be dead weight."
Arata nodded, trying to maintain his composure.
"Understood."
He felt the gaze of all three on him, measuring his every word, every breath.
Zaku took a step forward.
"Let's see if you can do more than just talk."
Arata didn't respond. He closed his eyes for a moment, channeling the chakra he had been practicing with since his awakening.
The energy responded quickly, more fluidly than before.
The air trembled slightly as he focused chakra into his feet and pushed himself backward with controlled speed.
Zaku raised an eyebrow.
"Look at that, he can use chakra. What an accomplishment."
"Zaku," Dosu warned. "Don't underestimate him yet."
Arata didn't intend to fight, but he needed to test his body.
He crouched and placed a hand on the floor. Chakra flowed through his fingers, expanding in a faint wave. It wasn't a full technique, just an attempt at sensory measurement.
He felt the vibration of the metal beneath his feet, the echo of footsteps around him, the movement of the air.
It's as if everything here is alive.
Dosu watched in silence. There was something calculating in his gaze.
"Interesting. You're not completely useless, at least. Kabuto is rarely wrong about his picks."
Kin slipped her kunai into its pouch and stepped a little closer.
"Arata, right?" she asked, her voice soft but firm. "Where are you from, exactly?"
Arata felt the weight of the question.
A poorly crafted lie could raise suspicion.
"From the Land of Earth. I was recruited a few months ago."
Kin nodded slowly.
"Typical. Orochimaru-sama is always collecting orphans with 'potential'."
Zaku snorted.
"Yeah, potential to die in the experiments."
Kin shot him a murderous look, and Zaku fell silent.
Arata, despite himself, smiled faintly. There was something tragically human in their dynamic. Amidst the horror of the Sound, the three of them still retained the traits of comrades… of kids just trying to survive.
Dosu cut in.
"Enough. We have our orders from Orochimaru-sama. Tomorrow we depart for the outskirts of the Land of Fire. We will infiltrate Konoha for the Chunin Exams."
Arata knew this, of course. But hearing it aloud made the reality pierce through him.
The exams, the invasion, the death of all three. It was all already written… or it had been.
What if I could change it?
That idea, a mere whisper in his mind, became etched there.
For the first time since his death, something burned inside him. Not fear, not resignation… but purpose.
The training resumed, footsteps echoing on metal, the high-pitched notes of sonic devices bouncing off the walls.
Arata joined them in silence, feeling the chakra flow, heavy and dense, as if the very air of the Sound was saturated with repressed power.
And as he attacked, dodged, and adapted to the rhythm of the three, he felt the first, fragile threads of a new destiny beginning to weave themselves into the old, dark tapestry of the Sound.
The training ended with the air thick with dust and sweat.
The vibrations from Dosu's devices slowly dissipated, leaving only the echo of ragged breaths and the metallic scent of spent chakra.
Zaku and Kin left first, arguing in low murmurs. Dosu, as always, remained silent, offering only a curt nod to Arata before vanishing down another tunnel.
When the sound of their footsteps faded, the dome returned to its natural state: still, silent, oppressive.
Arata remained alone for a moment, observing the empty space.
Every inch of this village seemed to thrum with a dull pulse, as if Otogakure had a heart of its own, buried somewhere deeper.
The Echo of the Sound…
The thought accompanied him as he walked back to his assigned quarters.
The corridor stretched out like a stone spine. The walls breathed dampness, and a thread of frigid air ran along the floor. He had learned not to look too long at the closed doors; behind some, he heard voices… and muffled screams.
Otogakure never slept. It only changed its tone.
Finally, he reached his room.
It was more of a cell than a room: smooth walls, a low cot, a chakra lamp that flickered weakly, and a desk with sealed scrolls.
Still, it was his refuge.
Arata sat on the floor, crossing his legs.
He took a deep breath.
The silence here was different. Not oppressive, but… pure.
He closed his eyes and let his mind sink inward.
Images flashed like lightning: the fire of the accident, Dosu's face, the tunnels, Kabuto's words, the echoes of a future he knew by heart.
The Chunin Exams. Gaara. Sasuke. Orochimaru…
Everything was following the course of the canon, line by line.
But now he was inside it.
And by his mere existence, the future was already… contaminated.
"I can't act yet," he whispered to himself, slowly opening his eyes. "I don't know how strong I am. I don't know how much time I have."
His gaze fell on his right hand. He remembered the spark he had released earlier, that sensation of living energy coursing through his veins.
Raiton chakra.
If the theory of this world was true—and everything he knew from the canon confirmed it—natural chakras were divided by elemental affinity: Fire, Water, Wind, Lightning, and Earth.
Each individual was born predisposed to one or two types, determined by their chakra composition and mental control.
"If that spark was natural, then my affinity is Lightning," he murmured, analyzing calmly. "Raiton increases reaction speed and nervous precision. It's perfect for a fast, offensive style, but… it demands control. A lot of control."
He clenched his fingers, feeling the energy respond, vibrant but unstable, like a live wire with a bad connection.
A brief current ran up his arm, and a blue flicker ignited in his palm before sputtering out.
The slight sting of pain made him smile.
"Definitely Lightning…" he whispered. "It's not much, but it's a start."
He lay back slowly on the cold floor, lacing his hands behind his head.
The stone ceiling blurred before his eyes, and the flicker of the chakra lamp was hypnotic.
The thought returned, insistent:
How much can I alter without breaking everything?
Can I save them? Kin… Dosu… even Zaku…?
The silence answered with its usual echo, and for the first time, he felt a sharp pang of loneliness.
He was surrounded by voices, by echoes, by life… but he had no one, truly.
Not his family, not his world, not his real name.
He closed his eyes.
Breathed deeply.
He let the chakra flow gently through his channels, from the core of his body out to his limbs, as if his soul were settling into this new flesh.
The body responded better each day. It no longer felt strange, or foreign.
It was his.
"Tomorrow…" he murmured, as sleep began to pull him under, "...tomorrow I'll start to act. Step by step. Without changing too much… but without standing still."
The lamp flickered one last time, casting his shadow against the wall.
And as the darkness enveloped him, the village's constant echo lulled him with its background murmur, like a deep, subterranean heartbeat.
Otogakure slept.
And, for the first time since his rebirth, so did Arata.