The silence in Amegakure never lasted.
Even in the dead of night, something always hissed. Pipes bleeding steam, neon signs crackling, water pouring from somewhere above in endless sheets. The entire city sounded like it was crying, every second of every hour.
But tonight, Yahiko didn't sleep.
He sat in the war room—if it could be called that—just an old meeting chamber with a rust-bitten table and mismatched chairs. A lantern hummed above, flickering slightly with each gust of wind rattling the pipes.
Maps were spread in front of him. The proposed meeting site was marked in red ink—an open lot beside a long-abandoned munitions factory. Too exposed. Too easy to box them in.
He dragged a finger along the map, drawing imaginary escape routes and reinforcement paths. He could almost see it now—ANBU in the shadows, the subtle click of traps underfoot.
In the corner, the system icon hovered. Silent, dim. Watching.
World Echo - Passive Insight:
Hanzo will bring backup. Over a dozen hidden operatives. Genjutsu suppression net likely deployed. Recommended strategy: Scouting + Disinformation.
He didn't know how it worked. It didn't show stats, levels, or health bars. Just… impressions. Feelings. Like a sixth sense that whispered when the wind shifted wrong.
And right now? Everything felt wrong.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Konan entered, wordless. She placed a hot metal cup on the table—steamed rice porridge, thin and gray, like everything else in this city.
He looked up and offered a faint smile. "Thanks."
She sat across from him, folding her legs gracefully beneath her. Her paper flower was gone tonight—hair damp from the rain, framing her pale face.
"You're different," she said.
He froze. "…What do you mean?"
Konan stared at him, eyes unreadable. "You've been quieter. Sharper. Not impulsive. Yahiko… you never plan like this. You feel things and move. That was always your strength."
He didn't answer right away.
Then: "And what if my old strength gets us killed?"
Konan's gaze didn't falter. "What changed?"
For a moment, he almost told her everything. About the other world. The system. The fate that was supposed to be. But he didn't.
Not yet.
"…A feeling," he said. "Like the storm's about to break."
She was quiet. Then slowly, she nodded.
"Then we'll prepare. Together."
At dawn, the Akatsuki gathered.
There were only about twenty of them, all early members—idealist shinobi, orphans, missing-nin who wanted peace more than power. A strange collection of dreamers and fighters.
He stood before them, the cold morning wind tugging at his cloak.
"The world doesn't change easily," he said. "People in power don't just hand it over. We thought forming Akatsuki would be enough. That helping people would prove something. But we're still seen as a threat."
Murmurs rippled through the group.
He raised a hand.
"We are not marching into this meeting blind."
That quieted them.
"Two scouting teams will survey the perimeter of the meeting site. If you see even one sign of Hidden Leaf or Rain ANBU, report immediately. No engagement."
He looked toward a sharp-eyed kunoichi near the back. "Shiba, your genjutsu detection technique—you'll deploy it five minutes before the meeting. Catch anything unusual, you run."
Then to another. "Kaidan, your clones will mirror us from a separate rooftop. If we're ambushed, pull us out. No heroics."
They all nodded. Tense, but focused.
This wasn't the reckless Akatsuki of the original story. Not anymore.
Hours later, he stood at the edge of the designated meeting site, a cloak draped over his shoulders, wind pulling at the edges. Konan and Nagato flanked him.
The lot was just as he remembered. Wide. Exposed. Surrounded by half-collapsed scaffolding and towers ripe for long range ninjutsu. Rusted metal walls on all sides. Too symmetrical to be natural.
Raindrops hit the ground like ticking seconds.
Konan murmured, "Two shinobi on the northeast tower. One more shadow in the ventilation ducts."
Yahiko nodded. "Confirmation?"
"Chakra pulses. All masked. Not civilians."
Nagato's jaw clenched. "So it's a trap."
Yahiko exhaled. "It always was."
He tilted his head slightly.
World Echo – Triggered:
The assassin in the southwest tower is targeting Konan first. Orders: disable the woman, isolate the red-haired boy, kill Yahiko.
His eyes sharpened.
"Plan B," he said. "Now."
Elsewhere, two blocks away, another Yahiko walked confidently into the meeting zone, cloak fluttering in the wind. Kaidan's clone. Identical chakra signature. Identical face.
It was bait.
As the real trio melted into the shadows, everything clicked into place.
Konan scattered into paper butterflies, silently taking to the sky. Nagato crouched low, hands on the wet earth, ready to pull his chakra inward.
Yahiko moved with purpose, scaling the metal wall in silence. Each handhold felt familiar, natural. His body remembered what he didn't.
As he crouched on the edge of a rusted beam, he saw it.
The glint of steel.
The shape of a kunai pulled taut in a trembling hand.
The nin hadn't noticed him.
Yahiko dropped.
Thud.
The masked figure barely had time to turn before Yahiko's foot connected with the back of his neck.
He didn't scream. Just crumpled.
Yahiko snatched the kunai mid-air and disappeared into the shadows again.
One down.
The meeting exploded into chaos seconds later.
Smoke bombs detonated. Paper bombs laced into Konan's decoys exploded in controlled bursts. The false Yahiko dispersed with a hiss of chakra mist, revealing the ploy.
Panicked voices shouted orders.
"Retreat!""They're here—on the walls—!""It's a setup!"
Nagato burst from the street like a demon, pulling the ground upward with raw force. Spires of concrete formed makeshift barricades between his team and their attackers.
Yahiko leapt through a spray of bullets, slammed his palm into the chest of another operative, and kicked off their back mid-spin.
System Notification:
Alignment Bonus - Asura's Chakra Awakening: 2%Trait [Resonance] Unlocked: Presence in battle boosts ally morale and chakra regeneration by a minor degree.
He barely registered it. Everything was instinct now.
He fought not like a messiah, but like a cornered beast. Efficient. Relentless.
This wasn't about killing every enemy. This was about surviving.
When it was over, smoke and steam rose from the broken lot.
Only three bodies lay dead. Two enemy ANBU. One of their own—Kyūsuke, gut-pierced but smiling, having taken down two himself before collapsing.
Konan knelt beside him.
Nagato stood silent, eyes closed.
Yahiko looked out at the wounded, the broken concrete, the shattered illusion of peace.
Hanzo never showed. Of course he didn't. He had sent them to die. A clean betrayal with plausible deniability.
The trap failed. But only barely.
Yahiko clenched his fist.
No more illusions.
No more mercy.
That night, as they regrouped in the hideout, Yahiko stood before the surviving Akatsuki.
"I won't lie," he said. "We nearly died today. And we'll lose more before this is over."
He looked at their faces—tired, bloodied, but still burning with hope.
"But this showed us the truth."
He pointed toward the cracked window, where the rain still fell endlessly.
"They'll call us traitors. Terrorists. Villains. No matter what we do. Unless we force them to listen."
He took a breath.
"So we're changing."
He opened his hand. A scrap of red cloth fluttered down—a cloud insignia painted across it in white.
"Our new symbol. Let the world remember us."
"We are still Akatsuki," he said. "But we are no one's pawns."
System Notification:
Primary Objective: Prevent Yahiko's Death — Success
Bonus Objective Unlocked: Form the "True Akatsuki" before the shinobi war begins
Alignment with Asura: 4%
Trait Evolution Available: [Resonance → Voice of Rebellion]Now affects morale across nearby villages and rogue factions. Increases chance of alliances forming with like-minded idealists.
Far above, in the tallest tower of Amegakure, Hanzo stared down at the broken city through a rain-streaked window.
He watched the crimson clouds form across rooftops.
His reflection in the glass frowned.
"This wasn't supposed to happen…"