Wherever one walks, traces remain.

  From the very first day Kita began her investigation into Zetsu, she was certain of this. After a year of relentless observation, she had confirmed it: the Ephemeral Technique was not a trace-free ninjutsu. While the jutsu could block all chakra signatures while in use, the soil it passed over was subtly different from untouched ground once the technique ended.

  Soft, slightly moist, and these differences wouldn’t vanish with time. Underground, away from sunlight, moisture wouldn’t evaporate, and the soil wouldn’t sink. This was why Kita could always track Zetsu.

  Zetsu had been here—or perhaps Madara had once left this way.

  How long he had traveled through the earth? Kita had lost all sense of time. Judging from her own hunger, it must have been a long while. She replenished her rations three times, three pills each time. Using Earth Concealment constantly drained her strength. During this period, she received a brief communication from Nagato confirming her safety.

  The next time she saw daylight was somewhere she couldn’t even identify.

  Cold was the first impression. Judging by the sensation, this was not the Land of Snow.

  Someone was there—chakra sensing revealed that much.

  Watching television.

  The sound of the TV confirmed it. A newly aired series, which held no interest for Kita. Then she saw something that caught her attention.

  Uchiha Madara.

  A very old Uchiha Madara.

  Their battle was brief. A frustratingly round face, faceless really, just a circle, white body, using Wood Release, shouting nonsense like “poop” and other trivialities—infuriating.

  A monster? Or another form of Zetsu?

  The genjutsu within the depths of her mind made everything clear.

  Whether to first secure Madara’s body or verify the information—it wasn’t a hard choice. Even so, Kita couldn’t calm herself. Handling Madara’s corpse made her hands tremble—not from the subzero temperature, but from fear. If it were true, what would the consequences be? She couldn’t bear to think.

  Kita rushed back to the vilge at her fastest speed, using the cy bird given to her by Deidara. With just a small amount of earth chakra, she could fly as fast as she wished. Unfortunately, it was no space-time ninjutsu.

  After a day and night, Kita nded safely in Amegakure, right in the middle of a downpour at midnight. Konan slept soundly. This time, Kita wasted no time and woke her. Fifteen minutes ter, a weary Nagato appeared at home, roused from his slumber.

  If Nagato’s sleepy, half-hearted “what’s wrong?” showed he wasn’t in full condition, then when Madara’s ancient corpse appeared, all traces of drowsiness vanished. The reason was simple—the aged Madara looked uncannily like the statue version.

  “What’s going on?”

  ——*Madara is already dead. That masked man is Uchiha Obito. Nagato, your Rinnegan was transpnted by Madara to summon the Geto Statues to assist him in executing the Eye of the Moon Pn after his death, and to grant him the Rinne Tensei.

  “What?” Nagato was shocked. The Rinnegan itself was hard enough to believe, let alone this.

  Kita wished she could speak. The information was too much to convey with gestures alone. Fortunately, she had paper and a pen.

  To prevent Madara’s body from exuding cold, she temporarily sealed it in a scroll. Then she wrote down everything she knew.

  Konoha, eight years: the battle at the Valley of the End. Madara faked death and bit a piece of Hashirama’s flesh. That same year, he transpnted Hashirama’s flesh onto himself.

  Konoha, twenty years: Madara used Hashirama’s cells to create Zetsu. He controlled Kirigakure to start the Second Ninja World War.

  Konoha, twenty-four years: Madara awakened the Rinnegan, summoning the Geto Statues.

  Konoha, twenty-six years: He found a descendant of the Uzumaki cn, Nagato, and transpnted his Rinnegan.

  Konoha, twenty-nine years: Nagato awakens the Rinnegan.

  Konoha, thirty-six years: He chooses Uchiha Obito.

  Konoha, thirty-seven years: Guided the Third Ninja World War.

  Konoha, forty-six years: Captured Uchiha Obito and pced control seals. That year, he maniputed the Mist ninja to kill Rin Nohara, guiding Obito to follow Madara, then committed suicide.

  ——Madara’s goal was for Obito to continue the Eye of the Moon Pn after his death. You, possessing Uzumaki blood, were the only one capable of summoning the Geto Statues from the moon. Madara—or rather, Obito—maniputed Hanzo and Danzo to orchestrate the Yahiko incident, to push you toward darkness and test the Rinnegan. Obito isn’t Madara; he’s Uchiha Obito. This was all Madara’s pn. He directed both you and Obito. Akatsuki was just part of it.

  This was the crux.

  No one wanted to be a pawn, least of all Nagato. Yet the mastermind was already a corpse, and the shadowy scheme still persisted. Choices thought to be one’s own were carefully orchestrated by others—a feeling only those deceived could understand.

  Nagato and Konan fell silent, utterly dejected.

  Kita felt she had misstepped. She should have approached this gradually.

  “Is that so… well done. Thank you for your efforts.”

  It wasn’t until dawn that Nagato spoke. Kita didn’t respond. She handed over the sealed scroll and said:

  ——I’ve taken control of the White Zetsu clones to prevent Obito from discovering anything. He communicates little with the Zetsu and is only responsible for guarding Madara’s corpse. This gives us extra time—sorry for the inconvenience.

  Nagato didn’t mind. He took the scroll and said lightly, “Rest well.” Rising, he staggered slightly—perhaps from sitting too long, or some other reason. But he quickly stabilized and left without a word.

  Now, only Konan and Kita remained.

  Konan had been silent throughout. Kita didn’t know how to console her—Konan hadn’t been deceived. She could only hold Konan’s hand, saying nothing.

  “I… feel like an idiot.”

  Her voice was low, weak. She stared at the long table. The tea had gone cold, untouched.

  Kita shook her head.

  ——The opponent was too strong. The man who guided the Third Ninja World War… he was truly too strong.

  She admitted it. Madara’s strategy was invincible. Without Obito having half of Madara’s talent, she wouldn’t have survived.

  Powerful enough to manipute everyone with a single consciousness.

  Konan, saddened, held Kita’s hand.

  “Luckily you were here, or Yahiko wouldn’t have rested in peace.”

  Kita smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Konan’s forehead.

  ——I promised. As long as I’m here, no one will harm Akatsuki—not even Madara.

  “So it’s a promise. For Akatsuki, for me, you’ll protect yourself properly, right?”

  Kita nodded.

  ——It’s a promise.

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