Naruto's confused shout echoed loudly across the stillness of the bridge. Clear, unfiltered, painfully sincere, it cut straight through the heavy tension that had frozen everyone in place.
"Shut your mouth, you brat!"
Zabuza snarled without thinking. Shock, anger, and humiliation churned within him so violently that for a moment his fingers tightened around the massive blade as if he might swing it in pure rage.
Cry?
He, Zabuza Momochi, the Demon of the Bloody Mist, born from the corpses of his own village's academy?
How could he ever shed tears?
Yet before his fury could explode, the title lingering on the sky-screen slowly faded away. The surface brightened once more.
Everyone, Zabuza included, was drawn upward by instinct.
The film began in near total darkness.
Blood.
Blood everywhere.
Broken bodies lay scattered across the ground, most of them still small enough to be children. The metallic smell of death seemed to seep straight through the screen, making countless viewers feel their stomachs twist.
At the center of that hellscape, one boy stood upright.
Soaked in blood, clutching a broken kunai, his eyes empty. He looked less like a human and more like a young predator that had just finished its first kill.
"Wh… what is this place?"
In the Hidden Leaf, Sakura covered her mouth, face drained of color.
"This is too cruel…"
Ino turned away, unable to keep watching.
Veteran shinobi, those who had survived wars and massacres, recognized the scene instantly. Their expressions hardened as the truth struck them like a blow.
"This… is the Hidden Mist."
A senior jonin's voice trembled with anger.
"The era they once called the Bloody Mist."
As if answering their unspoken horror, the narration resonated from above.
"This is the former Hidden Mist Village. What you are seeing is the graduation exam of the shinobi academy."
"The rules were simple. Kill your classmates. Only the last survivor earned the right to graduate."
The world erupted.
Young shinobi shouted, recoiled, flinched in disbelief. Many had never witnessed true brutality; fewer still could imagine slaughtering the friends they trained with.
"What kind of academy is that?"
Kiba shouted, while Akamaru whimpered anxiously.
"It is too cruel…"
Hinata whispered, trembling.
The camera focused again on the lone survivor. Blood dripped from his fingers as he slowly lifted his gaze.
His face was still gentle in shape, almost handsome, yet his expression held nothing. No mercy. No fear.
The narration continued.
"That year, a boy who was not even enrolled in the academy slaughtered the entire graduating class by himself. His actions forced the Hidden Mist to abolish the system forever."
"And that boy earned his first title: The Demon of the Mist, Zabuza Momochi."
The image froze on the young Zabuza's lifeless eyes.
On the bridge, Kakashi, Sasuke, and Naruto simultaneously turned to look at the man standing opposite them, gripping a colossal blade.
So this was the origin of the Demon of the Mist.
Zabuza's muscles stiffened. He never imagined the sky-screen would expose the past he buried deep beneath years of blood and ice. To reveal everything he hated about himself. To show it to the entire world.
Memories he had sealed away burst open like a floodgate.
The scene shifted. Snow fell heavily across an empty street.
Now older, now one of the Seven Swordsmen, Zabuza trudged through the icy village, the executioner blade strapped across his back.
Ahead of him, a frail child huddled beside a broken railing. Dressed in nothing more than rags, he stared blankly at the snow-covered ground.
Long black hair. A face strikingly delicate, even more beautiful than many girls.
This was Haku.
"Those with kekkei genkai are feared everywhere."
"No one needs me."
"Am I… meant to die like a stray dog…?"
His thoughts echoed from the sky, tinted with quiet despair.
Zabuza stopped walking. He stared down at the dying child.
"You look just like me."
His cold voice cut through the wind.
Haku lifted his head. In his clear eyes, Zabuza's silhouette filled his entire world.
After a long silence, Zabuza spoke the words that would define their bond.
"I only need your power. I did not save you out of pity. Your worth lies entirely in your usefulness to me."
Cruel.
Detached.
The cold logic of a man who had survived a village built on murder.
And yet, to most shinobi watching, his words sounded… logical.
"Shinobi are tools."
"Emotions are weaknesses."
"A powerful kekkei genkai is far more valuable than companionship."
The comments flew across the world.
But then the sky-screen shifted again… this time into Haku's perspective.
The world, once gray and hopeless, was filled by one lone figure.
Zabuza's broad back blocked out the blizzard. Cold words or not, his presence cut through Haku's despair like the first glimmer of sunrise.
For the first time, someone needed him.
His existence mattered.
"As long as I can be your tool, as long as I can help you achieve your dream, then I have meaning."
The narration conveyed Haku's joy, his devotion, the warmth of finding a place he belonged.
On the bridge, the real Haku glanced sideways at Zabuza. His eyes burned with renewed determination.
Yes. This was his path.
Zabuza said nothing, but inside him… something trembled. A faint ripple he refused to acknowledge.
A tool. Was that all?
"What kind of joke is this?"
Naruto suddenly exploded.
"How can someone live as a tool? He was hurting so much! I could see it!"
"Be quiet, dead last."
Sasuke shot him a cold look.
"Shinobi achieve their goals however they must. It doesn't matter what you become along the way."
But as he spoke the word goal, an image flashed through his mind. A man standing in the dark, his clan lying dead behind him. His own dream of revenge… chained him like a tool as well.
A tool called hatred.
Before the argument could continue, the scene shifted again.
It was the same bridge.
But this time, it was littered with debris. Both Kakashi and Zabuza were grievously wounded.
Lightning sparked in Kakashi's left hand. The chirping of the Chidori pierced the air, sharper than ever before.
Zabuza was helpless. Pinned to the ground by Kakashi's summoned ninja hounds, unable to move even a finger.
"It ends here, Zabuza!"
Lightning roared as Kakashi surged forward, a deadly flash of white and blue.
Zabuza's eyes widened. He could only watch death race toward him.
He was finished.
Just as the Chidori was about to strike, a slender figure burst forward even faster.
Haku.
He spread his arms wide, throwing himself directly into the lightning's path.
A wet sound echoed through the screen.
The Chidori pierced his chest cleanly.
Blood blossomed like a crimson flower, scattering into the mist.
For an instant, time stopped.
Across the entire shinobi world, breath caught in countless throats.
They witnessed the truth.
This boy called a tool.
This boy who had been told he had value only as a weapon.
He used his life to shield the man who had taken him in.
He died… for Zabuza.