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The night before the Eighth Battle, Sasuke purified himself with incense and a hot bath. It washed away the fatigue from days of training, letting him gather his strength. It was also a sign of respect for his opponent.
Sasuke had mastered White Cursed Seal Stage Four. He could now retract the horns. His appearance was otherwise normal—except for his pale pupils. They refused to shift back to the Sharingan, no matter how he willed it.
These new eyes… From initial discomfort, to getting used to them, to finally enjoying their power. This, he realized, was Orochimaru's true intention behind the seemingly awkward design of Stage Four.
As someone who had lived two lives, Sasuke had a fixed combat style. It was his strength, but also his limitation. Break those limits. Absorb new elements without losing his core identity. Forge a new, optimized way of fighting.
Orochimaru truly had thought this through.
The time Kabuto had set for his substitute battle with Madara—Itachi's battle—was also tomorrow. He hadn't specified when.
Itachi decided to test Madara's patience. He'd show up at the last possible moment. It wasn't that he disrespected Madara. He just didn't want to miss his beloved little brother's Eighth Battle.
After his bath, Sasuke entered the common room.
They had been on the island for nearly a year. The Pale Moon Trio had become the Pale Moon Eight. The island's infrastructure had changed, too.
Take this common room, for example.
It had expanded from a modest four-and-a-half-tatami space to a spacious eight-tatami one. The cold-toned tatami had been replaced with warm, honey-colored ones.
The south wall displayed Suigetsu's treasured collection of ninja swords. The north wall held the flowers Karin liked—she was a girl, after all.
Jūgo was a simple man. He preferred the forest and its small creatures to tea and pastries indoors. Because of this, Kabuto's weekly menu had six fewer servings of wild game.
Recently, Jūgo had taken up wood carving. Not to seem cultured, but because focusing on a task brought him the inner peace he craved. His carvings—all small animals—were displayed on a stand on the west side.
Notable was the small shrine on the east wall. It enshrined a painting—the farewell gift from the White Snake Sage when Sasuke left Ryūchi Cave: The Image of the Feathered Serpent God.
It was said the painting housed a sliver of the god's will. Only by kowtowing one hundred thousand times with a sincere heart could one summon the Feathered Serpent God.
Sasuke was busy from dawn till dusk. He had no time for bowing. More importantly, he had no intention of prostrating himself before any god.
Karin had offered to do it, but she was already a follower of Jashin—a heretic in the eyes of the Feathered Serpent God. She was disqualified.
Kabuto qualified, but the White Snake Sage had expressly forbidden him.
As for Itachi… He'd secretly tried a few bows in his spare time, without telling Sasuke. For some reason, he felt an intense rejection from the god within the painting, almost to the point of mental confusion. Orochimaru speculated it had to do with Itachi's dōjutsu, Amenosagume.
So, the god-worshipping was on hold. Perhaps the time was simply not right.
In the center of the room stood a round table on the tatami. Kabuto had prepared everyone's favorite foods. He'd grown accustomed to his role as the family's steward, managing their daily lives. Only when he was away would Itachi pick up the slack.
The meal was lively, filled with the sounds of enjoyment.
"Kabuto's cooking has improved again," Itachi said, savoring a spicy meatball and washing it down with a shot of strong liquor.
Kabuto placed the final dish—grilled fish—on the table and smiled at Itachi. "No sweets today?"
Itachi smiled back. "Even sweet things get old if you have them every day. Life has a hundred flavors. Today, I choose spicy."
Nagato, who usually sat silently watching others eat, actually picked up his chopsticks. He reached for a piece of grilled fish.
Everyone noticed.
Suigetsu was curious. "Nagato, you're eating today?"
Nagato held the chopsticks before his eyes. "It reminds me of the past," he said, his expression complex. "Yahiko, Konan, and I, learning under Master Jiraiya… A feast in the present. How quickly time flies."
With a sigh, he placed the fish in his mouth. Even though he couldn't taste a thing, the myriad flavors of life swirled in his heart.
A serene smile played on Sasuke's lips. He ate a bonito flake rice ball, chewing slowly, washing it down with a savory seaweed broth.
Even burdened with a tragic past and a heavy future, this warm, ordinary moment filled him with peace and contentment. He wanted to protect the people here. He also wanted to protect those who still didn't know the truth, those lost and adrift in ignorance.
The meal ended in quiet comfort.
Jūgo automatically began clearing the dishes.
Karin took a plate of untouched red bean rice and placed it before the shrine. She pressed her palms together and prayed silently.
Outside, a light rain began to fall, pattering softly, almost mournfully.
Sasuke stood on the veranda, watching the hazy curtain of rain. It reminded him of the rain at the Valley of the End. Of that innocent, smiling face.
He knew that tomorrow night, Naruto would undergo a baptism alongside Madara.
Just a little longer… The day we truly meet isn't far.
Sasuke snapped back to the present. He turned to see Orochimaru standing behind him, having waited quietly.
"Is the battlefield decided?"
"Unlike our previous skirmishes, we can freely choose the location this time," Orochimaru said. "This island… it traps the souls of the dead, turning them into earth-bound spirits. If you don't mind, Sasuke-kun, we could fight here."
Sasuke thought for a moment. "This island is our home. Our shelter from the storm. I don't want it tainted by any strange forces or spirits."
Orochimaru smiled. "I understand. Then we shall select the small island nearest to Pale Moon Island as the stage for the Eighth Battle."
…
A vortex of Futodama swirled, depositing Kabuto and Sasuke on the neighboring island.
The nameless island was large and desolate. Waves crashed against the rocks with a low roar. The moonlight was stark and cold—perfect for a battle that would defy the heavens.
Kabuto adjusted his glasses. "Ready, Sasuke-kun?"
Sasuke nodded. At this moment, his mind was clear of all distraction. He only wanted to fight—to lose himself in an all-out clash.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! Kabuto's hands flew through seals.
"Summoning: Impure World Reincarnation!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
From the churned earth and dust, five coffins erupted. Four landed to the sides…
The Second Tsuchikage, Mū. The Second Mizukage, Gengetsu Hōzuki. The Third Raikage, Ā. The Fourth Kazekage, Rasa.
Even though he'd never met them in his past life, Sasuke identified them by their headbands.
His gaze, however, was locked on the central coffin.
When it landed and the lid fell away, revealing the figure inside, even Sasuke's composure cracked. His eyes widened.
"How… is this possible?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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