Naruto: Mixed Heritage(Rewrite)

The relentless rain drummed against the shattered windows of the rundown building, creating a dull, rhythmic noise that echoed through the damp, decrepit interior. The wooden beams overhead groaned under years of decay, and the scent of mildew and damp paper filled the air. Dim lanterns flickered weakly, their feeble light casting elongated shadows across the worn tatami mats where three figures sat.

Each of them was striking in their own right, not only due to their youthful features but the stark contrast in their appearances. A boy, the eldest of the trio, had wild, spiky orange hair that stood out even amidst the gloom. His sharp features carried a confidence that refused to waver, even in times of despair.

Beside him sat another boy, his shoulder-length red hair hanging like a curtain, partially obscuring his hauntingly unique patterned eyes—eyes that had witnessed far too much suffering for someone so young.

Then there was a girl, her deep violet hair tied into a bun, with a delicate paper flower tucked behind her ear, her normally composed expression weighed down by the sombre mood in the room.

The rain continued its unrelenting assault on the city outside, its melancholic rhythm perfectly mirroring the heavy silence that had settled between them.

"Plink… plink…" Water dripped from a leak in the ceiling into a chipped ceramic bowl on the floor, the sound punctuating the heavy silence.

One of the boys, ever the optimist, exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his head before flashing an easygoing grin.

"Alright, this silence is depressing. Who died?" he joked, his voice carrying a forced lightness as he glanced at his two companions.

Neither of them responded. The other boy merely stared at the wooden floorboards, lost in thought, while the girl crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. The attempt at humour had failed miserably, but Yahiko wasn't one to give up easily.

"Come on, you guys. We can't sit here sulking all night. If we keep moping around like this, we'll grow mould." He waved his hand dramatically at the moisture creeping into the wooden walls.

Still, neither of them laughed. The elder boy sighed, running a hand through his bright hair before flopping onto his back with a groan. "Man, tough crowd."

The girl's soft voice finally broke the tension. "Kumo is preparing to attack Konoha."

The words hung in the air, heavy like the storm clouds above.

The younger tensed, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his pants. "Do you think Sensei will be okay?" His voice was quiet, but the worry in it was unmistakable.

The elder sat back up, his trademark grin reappearing, albeit slightly forced. "Of course, Nagato. Sensei is insanely strong. No matter what happens, he'll be fine. Do you think some Cloud ninja could take down the Toad Sage? He's probably laughing right now, soaking in a hot spring while we're stuck here worrying!."

Nagato nodded slowly, but Konan wasn't convinced. She tightened her arms around herself, glancing at the rain-streaked windows. "If two Great Nations clash, the whole world will follow. Fire against Lightning… Earth and Wind will pick sides. Even Mist might crawl out of the ocean. It'll be the Second Great War all over again." Her fingers twitched, and a sheet of paper peeled itself from a stack on the table, folding instinctively into a crane that trembled in her palm. 

A shuddering breath escaped her lips as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees. "How many people will die this time?"

A thick silence fell over the room again, the distant thunder providing the only sound.

For a long moment, none of them spoke. The weight of her words was suffocating, pressing down on all of them like a tangible force. The pain of the last war was still fresh in their minds. They had grown up in its aftermath, had seen the bodies litter the streets, and had watched their families die one by one. Another war would only bring more of the same suffering.

Then, after a pause, Yahiko smirked. "Well, maybe this isn't all bad."

Nagato and Konan both snapped their heads toward him in disbelief.

"What?" Konan asked sharply.

"Think about it," Yahiko said, leaning forward with an eager gleam in his eyes. "That salamander's been eyeing Konoha's scraps for years. If Kumo attacks, he'll swoop in to 'mediate'—or grab whatever's left. While he's distracted, we recruit. Build our numbers. Spread the Akatsuki's message further." 

Nagato's eyes widened slightly as he processed Yahiko's words. "You mean… this could be our chance to build momentum?"

Yahiko nodded. "Exactly. We've been working so hard to gain the people's trust, but Hanzo still casts a shadow over everything. If he gets distracted with whatever's coming, we'll have more time—more space—to grow."

Konan's crane crumpled in her fist. "And if he crushes us the moment we step out of line?" 

"He hasn't yet," Nagato murmured. His Rinnegan swirled as he met her gaze. "Remember the outpost last month? The villagers… they trusted us. They took the food we offered, not his." 

Yahiko seized the opening. "Exactly! We've turned half the slums against him already. People are tired of eating his lies. They want peace—real peace, not whatever garbage the Five Nations sell between battles." He spread his hands, the lamp's glow painting his face in amber. "We'll start here. Then the Grass border. Then the whole damn world. Just like Sensei taught us." 

Konan stared at the ruined crane in her palm. For a moment, the only sounds were the rain's falling and the creak of Nagato's chair as he leaned forward. Finally, she sighed. "…Fine. But if Hanzo sends his hunters—" 

"We'll be ready," Yahiko interrupted, springing to his feet. "Now, who's cleaning the gutters? The roof's about to cave in." 

Nagato groaned. "You promised it was your turn!" 

"Did I? Must've forgotten." Yahiko scratched his head, grinning shamelessly as Konan stood and flicked a paper shuriken at his face. He ducked, the weapon embedding itself in the wall with a thwack. 

"Liar," Konan said flatly. "You'll clean the latrine. I'll fix the roof." 

"What?! No fair! Nagato, back me up here—" 

The red-haired boy edged toward the door, hands raised. "I'll, uh… check the perimeter." 

"Traitor!" Yahiko howled as Konan herded him toward a broom with a swarm of paper birds, their wings buzzing like angry hornets. 

---

A couple of miles away, in the heart of Amegakure's fortified administration complex, Hanzo of the Salamander stood at the arched window of his chamber, watching rain cascade over the village he'd ruled for years. The room reeked of incense and ambition, its stone walls hung with tapestries depicting his victories in the Second Great War. A massive salamander summon, its mottled skin glistening with venom, coiled around a pillar, one yellow eye cracked open in lazy vigilance. 

Hanzo himself was a monument of wiry muscle and scars, his face hidden behind a respirator etched with the symbol of Amegakure. A jagged kusarigama chain hung at his hip, its sickle blade stained a permanent brown from old blood.

"Lord Hanzo." 

His aide, a wiry man named Goro, knelt at the chamber's entrance, forehead pressed to the floor. Rainwater pooled around his trembling knees. 

"Speak," Hanzo said, not turning from the window. 

"The Kage Summit… it's in three weeks. The Land of Iron is barely two days' march from our borders. Should we… prepare?" 

Hanzo's respirator hissed as he inhaled. "Prepare for what? To lick the boots of those who called us a minor village while their wars drowned our fields in corpses?" He turned slowly, his single visible eye narrowing. "You think I crave a seat at their table, Goro? A prize for the dog who fetches their scraps?" 

Goro flinched. "N-no, my lord! But if conflict arises—" 

"Let them burn." Hanzo strode to a map of the Five Nations nailed to the wall, Amegakure a smudge of ink at its centre. "The Second Great War proved their 'alliances' are as solid as mist. Konoha claims brotherhood with Suna until their Hokage stabs the Kazekage in the back. Kumo preaches honour while kidnapping children for their kekkei genkai." He spat on the floor, the venomous glob sizzling against stone.

"I wasted my time begging for their respect. Now?" He gestured to the rain-lashed village below. "Let them drown in their pride. Amegakure stands alone." 

Goro opened his mouth, then closed it, wisely swallowing his plea. 

Hanzo traced a finger over Konoha's emblem on the map. "But we are not idle. Danzo Shimura has… enlightened me to certain truths." 

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