Future
patreon
I'm Searching For A Girlfriend In Jujutsu Kaisen: 14 Tales Of The Ninja World 1
🕑 Added 2025-06-12 22:16:40 +0000 UTC# Ninja World
## HIDDEN LEAF VILLAGE
*One Day Earlier*
Far from the soaked battlefields and ash-covered corpses, the village of Konohagakure stood cloaked in light mist and quiet tension.
Rain fell incessantly, as if in mourning. Inside the Hokage Tower, the air was thick—not with humidity, but with worry.
A lone shinobi stood before Tsunade Senju's desk, the Godaime Hokage of the Hidden Leaf. In his trembling hands, he held a mission report stained with urgency and rainwater.
Tsunade's golden eyes narrowed as she read, flicking back and forth across the text.
"Two full teams… annihilated?" Her voice was quiet but sharp as a blade.
"Yes, Lady Hokage." The shinobi's jaw was tense. "Both squads encountered the same target—the Akatsuki members last seen in the Land of Fire. Identity confirmed."
"And you're certain?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
"Yes, my lady. There were survivors from the second team—barely. They lived long enough to deliver their report before succumbing to their wounds. While one of the duo was absent, the other matches all descriptions. Same appearance, same methods. It's definitely him."
*Kakuzu and Hidan of the Akatsuki.*
Tsunade exhaled slowly and dropped the report onto her desk. The folder landed with a soft slap, flipping open to reveal two photographs clipped inside. She didn't look at them—didn't need to. The names beneath the images were clear: Ino Yamanaka and Kakashi Hatake.
She stared at the names for a moment, then looked away.
"How many more teams are in the area?"
The shinobi shifted uncomfortably. "Five, Lady Hokage. Scattered in different formations. But with respect, if any of them manage to find him, the outcome will likely be the same."
"I see."
Silence stretched between them. Outside, rain tapped lightly against the windows, as though nature itself mourned their losses.
Tsunade leaned back in her chair, the weight of command pressing down on her shoulders like a mountain. She stared at nothing for a long moment, then slowly exhaled.
"Very well. Summon Might Guy's team."
The shinobi blinked. "Team Guy?"
"Tell them I have a mission for them." Her voice sharpened with resolve. "And tell him I'm giving him the chance to avenge his old friend with his own hands."
"Yes, Lady Hokage."
The shinobi bowed and turned toward the door. He reached for the handle, then hesitated.
"Lady Hokage," he said without turning around. "What if he wants to bring—"
"No." Tsunade's voice cut through the air like thunder.
He stood frozen.
"Pass this down as my direct order," she continued, her tone absolute. "For this mission, Team Guy may recruit anyone they deem suitable. However…"
From the side, Shizune visibly tensed, bracing for what was coming.
"Under no circumstances is Naruto Uzumaki allowed to participate."
"Yes, Lady Hokage." The shinobi opened the door and vanished.
Tsunade sat in the ensuing silence.
"Lady Tsunade…" Shizune began softly.
"Don't, Shizune." Tsunade's voice was weary. "Just don't."
The rain continued its quiet vigil outside the window. No one knew what would come next.
---
## HIDDEN RAIN
A haze hung over the trees like a ghost unwilling to move on.
What had once been a dense swath of the Hidden Rain's outer forest now resembled the aftermath of a cataclysm. The earth lay gouged open—split and cratered as if struck by vengeful divine fingers. Entire trees had been leveled, torn from their roots and charred black. Some still stood, though only in form, their trunks hollowed out by invisible fire, curling inward like burnt paper. The acrid scent of scorched sap and ozone tainted the rain-heavy air.
The corpses were worse.
They were scattered across the landscape in erratic patterns, armor seared into flesh, expressions of agony frozen on blistered faces. Some had been split clean down the middle, their bodies severed by cuts too precise for any blade. Others bore no visible wounds save for the blackened craters punched through their torsos. No signs of kunai, shuriken, or explosive tags. No residue of conventional jutsu. Just ruin.
On a small elevated hill, two figures overlooked the destruction below. Standing several inches taller than Ryota, Jiraiya studied the carnage with a pensive expression.
"Hey, kid. I don't know if I should be grateful or scared."
"Huh? Why scared?"
"Nothing serious. It's just… watching a teenager take out so many adult shinobi so quickly and efficiently is somewhat troubling."
Jiraiya turned away from Ryota to survey the surrounding forest. *He did all this without even moving.*
Ryota gave him a sidelong glance, then turned and started walking.
Jiraiya's gaze followed his retreating figure.
*That technique he used…*
His mind flashed back to the scene—Ryota surrounded by Rain shinobi, seemingly helpless.
*No, I still didn't sense any chakra from him. So it can't be called a jutsu, can it? Perhaps, like his physical prowess, it's some kind of innate natural ability. But his eyes… the effects surpass most A-rank jutsu. Even some S-rank techniques. How is that possible?*
His thoughts were interrupted when Ryota stopped and turned around.
"I can feel your stare burning holes in my back. Just so you know, I don't swing that way." He resumed walking. "And I'm not carrying you the rest of the way."
Jiraiya stood stunned for a moment before chuckling.
"You really are something else aren't you? It's like traveling with a sarcastic version of Kakashi."
He mentioned, then paused slightly before shaking his head.
Jiraiya's gaze lingered on the carnage once more before he turned to follow.
---
*Time passed.*
The silence in the Hidden Rain forests was deafening.
Ten minutes later, the bark of a nearby tree peeled back unnaturally. From its trunk bloomed the twisted petals of a massive pitcher plant, and from within emerged two halves of a single being.
Black Zetsu's eyes swept the carnage without expression. White Zetsu whistled low, visibly recoiling.
"Whoa… this is horrifying."
Night was approaching in the ninja world. White Zetsu continued his observation of the destruction.
"Hey, are you seeing this?"
"I have eyes, you idiot."
"Right, right." White Zetsu knelt beside one of the cleaner kills—a shinobi with a neat, perfectly circular hole bored through his chest, the edges seared as if by superheated air. "So even a badly injured Sannin can unleash this level of damage with one arm and a bunch of injuries? They really did a number on this place. Though it seems a bit excessive for a safe passage, don't you think?"
"This wasn't Jiraiya." Black Zetsu's denial was immediate.
"Huh? How can you tell?"
Black Zetsu didn't answer immediately, examining the scorch marks with narrowed eyes.
"Jiraiya doesn't have techniques like this in his arsenal."
"Seriously? How would you know? Maybe Jiraiya snapped. Maybe he developed some new jutsu with those toads of his. Like 'Steam Release: Instant Cremation Technique!' or something." White Zetsu laughed at his own joke.
"Hardly amusing." Black Zetsu's voice was barely above a whisper. "His ninjutsu is rooted in Sage Arts. Summons. Explosive force and wide-area damage."
He crouched beside a boulder—sheared perfectly down the center. Not shattered. Split. The cut was so clean it nearly reflected light. The same precision could be seen throughout the area. Black Zetsu examined the corpses methodically. Each bore similar wounds: holes through their chests, heads, or clean bisections down the middle.
"Even Madara's fire release wouldn't leave this kind of signature. There's no lingering chakra, no trace of nature transformation. Just heat. Impossible levels of focused heat."
Fire release techniques were meant for wide coverage attacks. Very few could be condensed with such precision, and even fewer could achieve this level of accuracy. Traditional fire jutsu exploded on contact with targets—they didn't slice them in half.
White Zetsu tilted his head. "So not a fire technique?"
"No. Even a fire-enhanced weapon couldn't achieve this precision, and that wouldn't explain the trees. Look at the bodies—some are completely untouched on one side. No collateral damage. No signs of explosive force or wide-area combustion. Whatever did this cut only what it intended to cut… and nothing more."
Black Zetsu's expression darkened. "This was not conventional shinobi work."
What he didn't voice was equally troubling: the speed of execution. By his estimation, most if not all of these ninja hadn't even had time to react.
White Zetsu picked up a helmet fused with bone and skull, making disgusted noises. "Ugh, this one's face melted right into the metal. Gross." He set it down carefully. "So who did this? Was it that person who saved Jiraiya?"
"Even less likely. I couldn't sense any chakra from him whatsoever."
"Then who?"
"I don't know."
It was rare for Black Zetsu to admit ignorance. It had been a very long time since something had stumped him so completely.
"What now? Should we report this to Madara?"
"No." Both halves straightened simultaneously. "The destructive capability is remarkable, but ultimately it's still just a technique."
After leaving Nagato, Black Zetsu had followed Ryota's trail based on earlier events. The possibility that someone could see through the Mayfly technique was far more unsettling than this display of power. Compared to that potential breach in security, this destruction barely held his interest.
He needed to confirm that possibility first.
However, it seemed the targets had already left the Land of Rain. Zetsu had no intention of pursuing beyond these borders—centuries of careful planning had taught him the value of caution above all else.
