Chapter 260: The Little Monster
The Land of Rain
"Where did the teacher go? He still hasn't come back?"
Yahiko's voice carried a distinct note of complaint. He, Konan, and Nagato had gathered in the clearing near the wooden cabin to practice their ninjutsu, but none of them could muster any real enthusiasm.
Especially Yahiko. He had just finally confirmed his ninja path under Ragnar's guidance—the dream he wanted to pursue, the conviction he wanted to carry. And then, without warning, the teacher had simply vanished. Again.
"If the teacher intended to leave permanently, he would have told us beforehand," Nagato said, his voice calm and measured. Compared to the withdrawn, uncertain boy he had once been, he had grown considerably. There was a steadiness to him now. A rationality that served as an anchor for the other two. "Something may have happened. We should have faith in him."
"Nagato is right," Konan added, her hands absently folding a paper crane as she spoke. "Besides, the teacher is the famous Rakshasa of the ninja world. Yahiko, don't use your worry as an excuse to slack off on training."
"Wha—! That's not it at all! I train very seriously! Tch!"
Yahiko's face flushed crimson as he snapped his head away. Nagato and Konan were definitely in cahoots, ganging up to tease him. Fine. Maybe he was worried about the teacher. Was that a crime?
Quietly, without any of them fully realizing it, Ragnar's place in their hearts had become irreplaceable.
The worldview of a shinobi could be twisted in many ways—shaped by war, by loss, by the harsh realities of survival. But when it came to emotional bonds, shinobi were among the most stubborn creatures on earth. Once they acknowledged someone, that bond became unshakable. Immovable as bedrock. It was a truth written across the history of this world: the Uchiha Clan, with their love so fierce it curdled into hatred. Obito, a boy who once wore his heart on his sleeve. Itachi, who carried the weight of genocide out of love for his brother.
The orphans of the Rain were no different.
Nagato's expression had softened over the past few days. A gentle smile now graced his pale features. But in an instant, that warmth vanished, replaced by sharp alertness. His eyes snapped toward the treeline.
Something was approaching.
A chakra signature. Immense. Unfamiliar. It was the most powerful presence he had sensed since awakening the Rinnegan.
And it was not human.
"Be careful. Both of you," Nagato said, his voice dropping to a low, urgent tone. His hands instinctively rose into a sealing posture, ready to act at the first sign of hostility. "I sense something extremely dangerous."
In truth, with the Rinnegan's power, the basic Five Elements ninjutsu were practically at his fingertips. Seals were largely unnecessary—mere psychological comfort. But old habits died hard.
The smiles drained from Yahiko and Konan's faces. Among the three of them, Nagato's perception was unquestionably the sharpest. They would never doubt his warning.
The atmosphere, once relaxed and cheerful, tightened into a drawn bowstring.
Yahiko swallowed hard. "Nagato... is it strong?"
Nagato's expression remained grim. "It is the strongest presence I have ever encountered."
"Even stronger than Teacher Ragnar?" Yahiko's voice pitched higher, disbelief written across his face.
"In terms of chakra volume and intensity... the teacher's chakra does not compare." Nagato's Rinnegan pulsed faintly as he focused his senses. "However... this presence does not feel like a human's. It may be some kind of summoned creature. We should proceed with extreme caution."
Nagato and Yahiko shifted forward, instinctively forming a defensive line. Konan stepped back. She knew her limitations—her paper-based ninjutsu lacked raw offensive power, better suited to support and defense. The three had developed an unspoken formation, a triangle of trust that placed her at the protected rear.
Sheets of white paper materialized from thin air, swirling around the trio to form a defensive perimeter.
As the mysterious chakra drew closer, even Yahiko and Konan could finally sense it. The weight. The pressure. Cold sweat beaded on their foreheads. The tension was suffocating, a hand slowly squeezing their throats.
"It's here," Nagato breathed.
The red bangs hanging before his eyes parted, revealing the ripple-patterned Rinnegan—the eyes that symbolized divine power. Once, he had feared these eyes. Every activation of their power had brought death in its wake. He had resisted them. Resented them.
But now, after finding his ninja way under Ragnar's guidance, fear no longer held him.
Power itself was neither good nor evil. The hands that wielded it determined its nature. And for the dream in his heart—the vision of a world without war—he needed to master this power.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
The cabin was surrounded by dense forest and thick underbrush. The first sound to reach them was the rhythmic rustling of grass parting before something large. The trio's hearts hammered against their ribs. Their pupils trembled.
"Ready!" Yahiko hissed.
The paper sheets floating around them transformed in an instant. Soft, fluttering origami hardened into straight, razor-edged blades, gleaming coldly in the dim light.
The rustling grew louder. Closer.
In their minds, a shared image had formed: a monstrous, gluttonous beast prowling through the grass. Three heads. Six arms. Fangs dripping with the blood of its last meal. Nagato's perception had never been wrong before. If this creature's chakra exceeded even the teacher's, it had to be something nightmarish.
"Waf!"
The sound that erupted from the bushes was sharp, high-pitched, and unmistakably... babyish.
A small white blur burst from the grass.
"AHH!"
Already wound to the breaking point by tension, Yahiko shrieked at the unexpected noise. His hands flew through seals on pure instinct.
"Fire Release—!"
He was a half-seal from completion when Nagato's hand clamped around his wrist, stopping him cold.
"What are you doing, Nagato?!" Yahiko sputtered, wide-eyed and trembling.
"So... cute..." Konan breathed.
"Cute?"
Yahiko followed Konan's gaze. And there, standing innocently in the clearing, was the source of all their panic. The "three-headed, six-armed monster."
It was small. Petite, even. Four slender legs supported a compact body of flawless white. Its hide was unblemished, smooth as porcelain, with a faint, healthy luster. Two dolphin-like fins crowned its head, and behind it, five snow-white tails swayed gently in the air.
The creature tilted its head, regarding the three stunned humans with curious, glowing eyes.
"Waf!"
Konan's heart melted instantly. Whatever this creature was, it had just effortlessly captured her entire being.
"Nagato..." Yahiko's voice was flat with disbelief. "This is the monster you sensed?"
"Though I hate to admit it..." Nagato exhaled slowly, his pupils contracting, "...yes."
But then, something else caught his senses. A second chakra signature. Familiar. Approaching from the same direction.
No... it can't be...
A figure stepped out from the forest's shadow, moving with the unhurried confidence of someone who owned the very ground he walked on.
"Teacher Ragnar!" Yahiko and Konan exclaimed in unison, their faces lighting up with relief and joy.
Nagato's jaw tightened. Impossible.
He had sensed the little white creature's approach from a vast distance. Its chakra had blazed like a bonfire in the darkness of his perception. But the teacher? Ragnar had been walking right alongside it, and Nagato had felt absolutely nothing. Not a flicker. Not a whisper. It was as if the man did not exist until he chose to.
As expected of the teacher... even my Rinnegan cannot perceive his presence unless he allows it.
Rather than frustration, admiration swelled in Nagato's chest. He did not dwell on the failure of his eyes. He understood, with perfect clarity, that the gap between him and Ragnar was not merely one of power, but of mastery. He had not yet earned the full potential of these eyes. When he did, perhaps then his perception would reach the teacher's level.
But that day was not today.
"Teacher!" Yahiko was already sprinting forward, his earlier terror completely forgotten. "Where have you been?! And what... what is that thing?"
He pointed at the small white creature, which had now trotted up to Ragnar's side and sat primly on its haunches, its five tails curling around its paws.
Ragnar glanced down at Kokuō. The miniature Tailed Beast looked profoundly pleased with herself, completely unaware of the chaos she had just caused.
"This," Ragnar said, "is the little monster that nearly made you wet yourself."
Yahiko's face cycled through three shades of crimson. "I did NOT—!"
"Her name is Kokuō," Ragnar continued, ignoring Yahiko's sputtering protests. "She will be accompanying me from now on. Think of her as... a summon of sorts."
Nagato stepped forward, his Rinnegan fixed on the small creature. Up close, the chakra density was staggering. It was contained, compressed into this harmless form, but he could feel the ocean of power churning beneath that pristine white hide.
"A summon..." Nagato murmured. Then, louder: "Teacher. This creature... it's a Tailed Beast, isn't it?"
Silence.
Yahiko's mouth fell open. Konan's hands froze mid-fold.
"A Tailed Beast?!" Yahiko's voice cracked. "Like... like the legends?! One of the nine great disasters?! THAT?!"
"Waf!" Kokuō barked indignantly. She did not appreciate being called a disaster.
"She is the Five-Tails," Ragnar confirmed, his tone as casual as if he were identifying a breed of dog. "And she has agreed to form a contract with me."
The admission hung in the air like a thunderclap.
Nagato was the first to recover. A slow, almost reverent smile spread across his face. "Only you, teacher. Only you could make a Tailed Beast submit willingly."
"It wasn't submission," Ragnar corrected. "It was a mutual agreement. She was lonely. I was... available."
Kokuō made a small, huffy noise but did not contradict him.
Later That Evening
The cabin was warm with the glow of lantern light. Outside, the eternal rain of the country pattered against the roof, a familiar lullaby.
Ragnar stood by the door, his silhouette framed against the gray sky. The three orphans sat before him, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and dread. They had sensed it, somehow. The shift in the air. The weight of an ending.
"I am leaving the Rain Country," Ragnar said.
No preamble. No softening of the blow. It was not his way.
Yahiko's hands clenched into fists. Konan's eyes glistened, though she refused to let the tears fall. Nagato's expression was unreadable, but his Rinnegan, ever-watchful, had dimmed slightly.
"You already knew this day would come," Ragnar continued. "I have taught you what I can. Given you what I could. The rest... is yours to claim."
"Teacher..." Yahiko's voice was rough. "Will we see you again?"
Ragnar looked at him—at all of them—and for a brief moment, the iron mask of Rakshasa softened. Just a fraction. Just enough.
"This world is smaller than you think. And fate has a habit of tangling threads that should have stayed apart." He turned toward the door, Kokuō rising to pad silently at his heels. "Train. Grow strong. Hold to the path you have chosen. And if the day comes when our paths cross again..."
He glanced back over his shoulder, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"...try not to embarrass me."
And then he was gone, swallowed by the rain.
The three orphans stood in silence long after his chakra signature had faded beyond even Nagato's perception. The cabin felt emptier. The world felt larger.
"He didn't say goodbye," Konan whispered.
"No," Nagato said quietly. "He never does."
Yahiko wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and sniffed loudly. "Tch. Stupid teacher. Acting all cool..."
But despite the tears, despite the ache in their chests, none of them felt abandoned.
Ragnar had not given them a home. He had given them something far more enduring.
A purpose.
And somewhere in the rain-soaked wilds beyond the cabin, heading toward the borders of Fire Country, the man called Rakshasa allowed himself a rare moment of quiet reflection. The Five-Tails trotted beside him, her small form occasionally bumping against his ankle.
"Those children," Kokuō said, her voice softer than usual. "They love you."
Ragnar did not answer.
"They will be strong," she added.
"I know," he said.
And the rain continued to fall.
End of Chapter
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