Before his eyes stretched an endless, silent desert of sand, dull and lifeless. The sky above was a fixed, oppressive yellow that never changed. There was no wind and no sound.
Behind Ryoma, a massive, earth-yellow tanuki squatted on the sand. Its bloated body was covered in strange dark purple markings. Its presence alone filled the space with pressure.
"Hahahaha!"
A sharp, malicious laugh echoed wildly beside Ryoma's ears. The sound drilled into his head without mercy. It was full of mockery and delight.
"Look at you, you pitiful little thing," the One-Tail Jinchuriki sneered. Shukaku's eyes looked down at the tiny figure below with open amusement. "Locked in a dark dungeon, thrown scraps like a dog."
"Hahaha, exactly the same treatment as that old man Bunpuku," it continued. "You stupid humans really never change at all." The beast shook its huge head proudly as it spoke.
"But that old man was far better than you," Shukaku added with cruel satisfaction. "At least he could suppress me. You, once you step out of here, will just be torn Sui Lie by my power. Hahaha."
Bunpuku had been the previous One-Tail Jinchuriki. Back in the era of the Third Kazekage, he had been implanted with Shukaku while still a child practicing ascetic training in a temple. Later, to prevent a rampage, the leaders of Sunagakure had ordered him imprisoned here as well.
From that point on, Bunpuku was confined until death. As time passed, people forgot his name and only remembered "Shukaku." In the end, he died in this place, unseen and unheard.
Now, Ryoma was receiving the same treatment. The same prison and the same fate were repeating themselves. Nothing had changed.
Shukaku's venomous and endless mockery poured into Ryoma's mind. The beast's voice filled every corner of his thoughts. Yet Ryoma only hugged his legs, his eyes completely calm.
He should have hated the Guai inside him. It was this thing that made him hurt others during his rampages. It was this thing that branded him as a "monster" from birth.
Because of it, his father abandoned him. Because of it, villagers feared him and everyone despised him. In the end, he was locked away in this lightless prison.
He should have hated it. That was what made sense. That was what everyone expected.
But was all of this truly because of it? As he listened to Shukaku's wild laughter and ridicule, a strange feeling rose in his heart. It was not anger, but something close to pity.
"You…"
Ryoma slowly opened his mouth. His voice was hoarse and weak, yet it carried clearly through the laughter. "You are actually very lonely, aren't you?"
"Ga…"
Shukaku's deafening laughter stopped abruptly, as if its throat had been grabbed. The entire Sealing Space fell into sudden silence. The beast's huge yellow eyes widened in shock.
"Brat, what are you saying?" Shukaku roared, its tone filled with disbelief and anger. "Are you stupid? I am a powerful Tailed Beasts!"
The roar shook the space itself, making the desert tremble. Ryoma remained seated calmly, saying nothing in response. His silence only made the contrast sharper.
He suddenly understood something. This Guai that lived inside him, roaring and mocking him, was actually the same as him. It was also lonely.
If it were not lonely, it would not talk to him endlessly day after day. If it were not lonely, it would not try to hide behind Wrath and ridicule. That truth struck him quietly.
Then why? Why had things turned out like this?
"Hey, brat, are you listening to me?" Shukaku shouted again. Seeing Ryoma's calm expression only made it more irritated. Its voice grew louder and more furious.
Ryoma opened his mouth as if to speak. He seemed to be searching for words. Before he could say anything, the world changed again.
Boom!
A deep, massive explosion sounded from outside the prison. The noise broke through layers of earth and echoed clearly in Ryoma's ears. The shock was impossible to ignore.
"Hm?" Shukaku's roar cut off instantly. A trace of seriousness and doubt appeared in its eyes. Something was wrong.
Inside the prison, Ryoma was pulled out of the Sealing Space and snapped back to reality. He instinctively looked toward the outside of the cell. The entire underground prison began to shake violently.
The two Sunagakure who had been full of disgust now showed fear and alertness. They turned sharply toward the corridor leading out of the prison. Their faces were tense and pale.
"What is going on?" one of them asked, his voice trembling despite himself. "What happened up there?" His hand tightened unconsciously.
"Enemy attack?" the other muttered. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. His breathing quickened as he listened.
Before either of them could act, footsteps sounded. Step by step, slow and steady, they came from the deep darkness of the corridor. The sound grew closer with each moment.
Along with the footsteps came faint, chilling wails and brief bursts of violent fighting. Those sounds quickly died out. In the end, only the footsteps remained.
"Who is there?" one Sunagakure shouted sharply. He raised his hands, forcing himself to stay steady. The echo of his voice bounced around the empty prison.
The other drew his sword in one swift motion. The blade flashed coldly in the dim light. Both men stared into the darkness, hearts pounding uncontrollably.
The footsteps stopped.
Whoosh!
A sharp tearing sound cut through the air without warning. Two streaks of light shot out of the darkness. They were Chakra arrows moving at extreme speed.
Thud. Thud.
Two heavy impacts sounded almost at the same time. The two Sunagakure stiffened, their expressions freezing in shock. The alertness in their eyes vanished.
Their bodies collapsed to the ground as if all strength had been drained away. The swords fell from their hands, striking the floor with clear metallic clanks. The silence returned instantly.
Ryoma stared blankly at the scene before him. The emptiness in his eyes was replaced by confusion and shock. He struggled to process what had just happened.
Each of the two men now had a thumb-sized hole through the center of their foreheads. Hot blood mixed with pale matter poured out steadily. Their unclosed eyes reflected Ryoma's face.
Footsteps sounded again. Two figures wearing Black Red Kumogakure Cloak slowly emerged from the darkness. Their shadows stretched long and twisted under the dim glow of the Chagama.
One was tall and slender, holding a bow with no string, his face wearing a playful smile. He was Homura Mitokado. The other was large and imposing, the Hell Path Nagato.
"You…"
Ryoma looked at them blankly, staring at their unfamiliar faces. His hoarse voice broke the silence. "Are you here to kill me too?"
Hearing this, Homura Mitokado raised an eyebrow. He bent slightly, examining Ryoma as he curled in front of the Chagama. His gaze was like that of someone inspecting an interesting toy.
"Poor child," Homura Mitokado said with a smile that carried deep coldness. "We are not here to kill you." His voice was light, but the meaning was chilling.
"We are here to help you find release." The words fell gently, yet carried terrible weight.