Kirigakure, the Hidden Mist Village, built on the scattered islands of the Land of Water, was veiled in a year-round curtain of thick mist. Even the stars seemed to fade behind it.
The villagers rarely glimpsed the moon, and to them, the moon described in old scrolls — a brilliant jade disk — was more legend than memory. It was said to wax and wane, but most in the outer districts only knew its glow from stories.
But tonight, the fog that clung to the sky was torn apart again. The cause? Unmistakably, another brutal clash among shinobi.
"A rare night," someone whispered.
Far from the village's center, families quietly stepped from their wooden homes, gazing upward with awe. The full moon radiated a rare and clear brilliance — silver bleeding into red at its edges.
They all knew what this meant.
In Kirigakure, when the fog breaks, blood follows.
Kaguya Clan Compound — Kirigakure Outskirts
The sharp clang of steel meeting bone echoed in unison, rhythmic and unrelenting. It wasn't chakra blades or jutsu — just raw brutality.
In the courtyard, the corpses of the Kaguya Clan were being heaped without ceremony, forming a grotesque mound. Known for their violent bloodline and deep lust for battle, the Kaguya had once again attempted an insurrection. But just like in the failed attack on Kirigakure during the Third Shinobi War, they underestimated the Mizukage's merciless grip.
"179."
"180."
Black-cloaked Hunter-nin, emotionless beneath their masks, murmured the tally.
The Mist's cleansing was thorough. The Blood Mist had returned.
Overhead, the moon glowed a deep crimson — not from illusion, but the sheer weight of blood staining the night. Even the stars seemed to shrink away.
This year marked Year 49 of Kirigakure. The Mizukage was Yagura Karatachi, the Fourth — a Jinchuriki of the Three-Tails and a brutal enforcer of Kirigakure's iron law. Though manipulated in secret by Tobi of the Akatsuki, the destruction wrought under Yagura's rule was all too real.
Tick. Tick.
In the now silent compound, the massacre's aftermath glistened under the red moonlight. Blood dripped from raised stone, slithered across tile, and pooled like rivers.
From beneath the mound of his slaughtered kin, a twitch.
A blood-soaked hand pushed up from the corpses. Slowly, a child emerged — skin slick with blood, eyes glazed in confusion. He stared at his trembling fingers, and fragments of foreign memory flashed before him.
"Kirigakure… Kaguya… a massacre…"
Then he murmured, dazed, "…Naruto?"
But no — this wasn't a dream, nor was he Uzumaki Naruto.
After washing at an abandoned well, the boy's face was finally visible. Pale, with short black hair, and soft, melancholic eyes — but undeniably handsome. He was no older than nine.
His name: Kaguya Takuma.
"This is… the end of the Kaguya Clan," he whispered.
And with that realization came the brutal truth — he had no chakra reserves, no awakened Shikotsumyaku, nothing. In a village like Kirigakure, a powerless orphan was as good as dead.
"If I show myself… I'll be erased."
Takuma collapsed onto the blood-soaked ground, struggling to think. His eyes fixated on the crimson river trickling from his clan's remains. Something primal stirred.
"…I don't have time to panic."
He was supposed to be dead. His chest had been pierced.
But the blood of dozens — maybe hundreds — had soaked his body, seeping into his wounds. As it did, something impossible happened.
A presence — or rather, memories — surged within him. Techniques, sensations, instincts. The tactile imprint of Chakra Control, of Kaguya Clan Taijutsu, of body manipulation arts born of Shikotsumyaku.
These were not his. They belonged to the dead.
"Gross," he muttered, suppressing a gag.
"But if this is the only way…"
He squatted beside the blood stream, then lowered his head — and drank.
A coppery taste flooded his tongue, tainted with dust, ash, and faint stone grit. His stomach lurched. He spat out gravel, then forced himself back down.
Second mouthful. Then a third. He drank until his insides burned.
Then came the shift.
It wasn't just memory assimilation. His body began to accept — and imitate — what the others had once known.
Bone hardening. Capillary circulation acceleration. Advanced chakra flow.
He could now recall how to form the Tiger, Ram, and Boar seals — not just as knowledge, but with intuitive muscle memory.
This wasn't reincarnation. It was bloodline resurrection.
"This is my only shot."
The disgust faded. He licked his lips, now sticky and red.
Tingling spread from his chest to his limbs. His nerves buzzed. Beneath his skin, unnatural bulges pressed outward.
"Change is coming," he whispered.
The boy crossed his legs and sat still. His body temperature surged, and the pressure in his spine grew unbearable.
Inside, his bones were shifting.
His thin frame hid astonishing strength.
Crack!
White bones pierced through the flesh of his back and arms — but strangely, not a drop of blood spilled out. Nor did Takuma feel any pain.
Calmly, he reached up and tapped one of the protruding bones. A faint, metallic clink echoed — like bone against steel.
According to the clan's ancestral scrolls, only a select few ever awakened the Shikotsumyaku — the Kaguya Clan's infamous Dead Bone Pulse. A rare Kekkei Genkai, it allowed control over the entire skeletal system. Bones as hard as tempered steel could be shaped, extended, and weaponized at will.
Once awakened, those who possessed it were considered true warriors of the clan.
"I swallowed the blood of so many clansmen… Even a talentless weakling like me awakened a powerful Kekkei Genkai," Takuma murmured, grinning darkly. His sharp teeth — now blood-red — gleamed under the moonlight.
"But if I don't escape now, there won't be another chance."
Thanks to memories inherited from a deceased Kaguya jonin, Takuma knew of several underground escape tunnels — relics from when Kirigakure constantly battled foreign invaders during the Warring States era. These tunnels ran beneath the Mist Village's strict patrol routes and led out through the cliffs that faced the open sea.
In the current state of Kirigakure's isolationist policy, civilian exit through normal routes was prohibited. The "Closed Country" doctrine had been strictly enforced ever since Yagura became Mizukage. Any unknown figure was detained or executed on sight.
Takuma gathered the strange chakra flowing through his body and instinctively guided it to his feet. The result was astonishing: his footsteps became feather-light, his speed nearly doubled, and he left no sound or trace.
Silent Movement — a fundamental shinobi technique.
He moved like a wraith under the silver moon, using his newfound chakra control to cling to walls, land silently, and follow the trajectory burned into his inherited memories.
Elsewhere, not far away…
"Captain, Senior Chuanqi's team already advanced toward Sector 4. Should we move?" a soft voice asked.
A kunai clicked into a pouch as the girl with pale blue eyes replied without turning around. "No rush. The slaughter over there isn't our fight."
Her long, sea-blue hair swayed as she tied it up in a neat bun.
"Captain, why not just cut it short?" teased a voice. "You'll cry if it gets cut off in battle."
The girl didn't react. Her tone stayed composed. "Get into patrol formation. Too many rats are crawling tonight."
"Yes, Captain Bai Shui," the others responded and immediately sprang onto the rooftops, silently leaping between the wooden beams, their eyes scanning the shadows below.
After several minutes of silence, Bai Shui raised a hand, halting.
"Movement. Heifang, take position on the water tower. Youmu, flank right with me."
With practiced ease, the squad split into formation. Bai Shui dashed toward a low building partially hidden in shadow — a perfect blind spot.
The lighting here was weak. Cicadas screamed nearby, masking even the lightest of footsteps.
"Who's there?" she demanded sharply, drawing her ninja blade in a practiced motion.
Clink!
The steel struck something hard.
Takuma stepped forward from the shadows, lips curled into a faint smile.
"Long time no see, Sister Bai Shui."
His gaze was deep and unreadable, fixed on the young kunoichi standing in front of him.
Bai Shui — a name that echoed from childhood.
In Takuma's inherited memories, she was once his only companion. They were childhood friends, playing in the misty courtyards when they were barely old enough to speak. But where he was weak and untrained, she showed early brilliance.
By the age of eight, Bai Shui had already become a team captain — a prodigious feat in Kirigakure, especially under the Blood Mist policy where only those who survived deadly internal trials were allowed to graduate.
"Big sister Bai Shui… just this once, could you let your brother go?" Takuma asked gently. But behind the softness was a ruthless glint in his eye.
To her, he may have been a childhood friend.
But to him — a transmigrator with no emotional ties to this world — she was just another obstacle. A gentle tone might lower her guard. If it worked, he'd deal a crippling blow and dispatch the rest.
Based on the battle instincts and field experience of the jonin whose memories now lived in his head, Takuma had already assessed the squad's strength.
Bai Shui was the only threat.
"I'll take my leave now, then."
Seeing her pause without reacting, Takuma decided not to provoke her further. If he could avoid unnecessary conflict, all the better.
"No, Takuma."
Bai Shui's voice was quiet, but firm. She raised her sword with practiced grace.
"I don't know how you survived… but the Kaguya Clan was part of tonight's uprising, weren't they?"
Takuma shrugged, forcing a smile. "Then arrest me. I'm just a powerless civilian. You've nothing to fear."
He raised both hands in mock surrender and began walking toward her — slowly, deliberately.
Clang!
Without warning, Bai Shui's sword flashed and slashed down.
Instinctively, the bones along Takuma's forearm shot out and blocked the blade with a screech of steel on bone.
His smile disappeared.
"You're not being honest, Brother Takuma," Bai Shui said softly, smile still intact. Her face looked gentle — even angelic — but Takuma's heart chilled.
She was dangerous.
This was no innocent childhood friend. She was a Mist Village prodigy — raised during the era of graduation by execution.
A true product of Kirigakure's madness.
Takuma's expression hardened.
The time for sentiment was over.