Chapter Seventy-One: Rain

Bai Jue’s clone, feeling aggrieved, withdrew into the tree branches, putting some distance between himself and his leader, and grew a new branch where he could bask in the sunlight. He knew he couldn’t afford to provoke his own boss—he wasn’t strong enough to fight and could only keep his distance. Better to enjoy the sun while it lasted, for who knew when the rain would return to this cursed country of rain.

Once his new branch had grown, Bai Jue’s clone turned to Black and White Jue and asked, “Boss, what do you think Madara is up to? What’s so interesting about that red-haired kid? Is he edible?”

Black Zetsu, who had been silently enjoying the sun, finally spoke, “Just focus on your own task. Your purpose is to obey Madara’s orders.”

White Zetsu chimed in, “Eat? What would you eat? Do you even have that function? If you eat but can’t excrete, what then? Should I send you back to the Gedo Statue for a remodel, so you can digest things properly?”

Bai Jue’s clone shuddered, clearly frightened by the suggestion.

He quickly changed the subject, “Recently, Madara returned from outside and seemed even more aged. The Gedo Statue was gone for a while, too. Did you all go do something interesting? Tell me about it.”

As he spoke, something amusing seemed to cross his mind. Without waiting for Black and White Zetsu’s reply, he continued animatedly, “Boss, are you going to insert and remove those tubes for Madara again? Can I join this time? I heard the last time you did it, it was quite fun…”

Bai Jue’s clone looked at Black and White Zetsu with hopeful eyes, pleading, “Just thinking about it excites me! I want to participate. I’m tired of watching over this mother and child all day—my grass is practically wilting from boredom…”

Annoyed, Black Zetsu glared at him. “Did you not hear what I said? Just follow orders and do your job! Do what you’re told!”

White Zetsu, on the other side, thought for a moment and added, “And what grass? We’re made from grass to begin with…”

Black Zetsu immediately snapped, “You shut up, too. Grass? What nonsense are you spouting, idiot.”

White Zetsu retorted, “You shut up! You’re the idiot. If we’re not made from grass, what are we? Humans? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Black Zetsu ignored his counterpart’s rambling and harshly ordered the clone, “Follow orders and do your job—watch over this mother and child. They’re crucial to Madara’s plan.”

“Don’t meddle with things you shouldn’t, don’t ask questions you shouldn’t. If your involvement is needed, I’ll give you orders.”

“Keep watch over them!”

With those words, Black Zetsu stopped sunbathing, quickly gathering up his imposing appearance—two large, green, jagged pitcher plant neck guards—and, with White Zetsu still chattering, melted into the trunk and vanished.

Soon after, the sunlight above remained warm, but on the tree trunk, only Bai Jue’s clone, with a head crowned by a patch of green grass, continued his solitary vigil, dutifully watching the distant red-haired mother and child.

Once he was sure his boss had truly left, Bai Jue’s clone began mumbling softly to himself, “Acting all high and mighty, forbidding me from asking questions. You all went to the Land of Wind for a trip and fought someone who played with iron sand.”

“As if I don’t know—I’ve heard all about it.”

“Such a fun event, yet you left me here, bored, watching this mother and child. I’m grass, not a nanny!”

“Looks like I won’t be invited to the next tube insertion for Madara either. Just because you have a fancy neck guard, you think you’re special? You’re the boss, sure, but that doesn’t make you so great.”

His complaints continued in whispers, but as the sun retreated behind the clouds and the sky darkened again, he muttered, “What’s so amazing about this weather? Here comes the rain again.”

With another low curse, Bai Jue’s clone obediently slipped through the trunk and underground, moving closer for direct surveillance and protection of the red-haired mother and child.

From the distant courtyard, the sound of Fusang soothing her child drifted over. “Nagato, be good, don’t cry. It’s going to rain, let’s go home. Daddy will be back soon…”

The infant in Fusang’s arms stared wide-eyed and bright at his mother, then looked past her shoulder toward the tree where Black and White Zetsu and Bai Jue’s clone had just been.

…

Kato Mikaze was entirely unaware that, as he rushed at full speed toward the northwest Konoha stronghold, a few trivial events were unfolding far away in the Land of Rain.

Traveling was tedious and dull, and inevitably, Kato Mikaze’s thoughts turned to Tsunade. He wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her.

As he sped forward, Kato Mikaze touched his brow, where Tsunade had kissed him at noon.

‘I wonder if there are any little gifts suitable for girls in the Land of Rain, Wind, or Earth…’

Kato Mikaze moved swiftly, and before long, within the range of his usual spiritual sensing, he detected the northwest Konoha stronghold—his destination was near.

He cleared his mind, adjusted his chakra flow, and increased his speed, dashing toward the distant camp.

‘I wonder if my classmate is inside the stronghold now. That guy’s a white-haired fellow, a real stickler for rules.’

The closer he got to the northwest stronghold, the more patrols he encountered. Unlike the Konoha village headquarters, which relied on permanent barrier jutsu for automatic detection, here the manpower for patrols was clearly greater. This site served as a logistics hub for Konoha’s western and northern defenses and was vital to the village.

In wartime, temporary barriers were reportedly erected to monitor the environment around the northwest stronghold.

As he approached, Kato Mikaze encountered two waves of Konoha ninja patrols. In truth, with his skills, he could easily evade such ordinary guards.

But as a proper Konoha jonin, with all his travel papers in order and on an official mission, there was no need for secrecy.

After a little delay, he finally reached the interior of the northwest stronghold.

He found the ninja responsible for camp administration, registered his information, completed some routine procedures, and requested a standard dormitory for rest.

The northwest stronghold was a long-term logistics hub, always staffed by Konoha ninja.

There was a distinction between the permanently stationed Konoha ninja and those temporarily dispatched from the village for missions—two separate systems, akin to regular troops and temporary forces, with no hierarchy, and frequent rotations.

Especially for ninja below jonin rank, besides all kinds of short-term missions issued by the village, they were also required to perform regular long-term border defense rotations across the Land of Fire.

Just as Kato Mikaze had done before his promotion to jonin, leading Minato Yuta and Takenouchi Ki—his chunin squad—on a B-rank eastern border patrol, a typical long-term rotation.

The current leader of the northwest stronghold was a veteran Konoha jonin, from the butterfly clan of the Ino-Shika-Cho trio, named Akimichi Torimizu.

He was from the same generation as the Third Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen, said to be the younger cousin of Akimichi Torikaze, a trusted subordinate of the Second Hokage Senju Tobirama.

When Kato Mikaze was still a chunin, he had served under Torimizu during a rotation here, receiving his guidance and care—a steady, experienced Konoha ninja.

Their relationship was good, and now that Mikaze had arrived, he naturally had to greet him.

However, the familiar face Mikaze was thinking of wasn’t Torimizu, but a peer from his class, recently stationed here long-term: Hatake Sakumo.

A rigid, even somewhat inflexible ninja, devoted to old customs and powerful in battle.

…

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