The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the familiar scent of earth and damp moss. Konoha’s ancient forest stretched endlessly, its towering trunks casting long shadows that moved gently in the breeze. The rustle of leaves was almost soothing, like the quiet hum of a distant lullaby to the ears of those that called this place home. But to the rogue ninja stepping through the underbrush, it held no memory of homely comforts. It was the sound of an inevitable end drawing near...
He stood still, letting the memories wash over him for a moment, both the good and the bad, the incredible and the simple, nothing forgotten and no regrets. The village was just beyond the trees now, so close the memories felt like only moments ago. Konoha, his former home. Once, it had been everything! A place of loyalty, duty, and bonds. He had shed all of that long ago. His choices, his path, had taken him far from it. A rogue. A ghost. A murderer.
But now he was back. Not out of regret, nore seeking redemption, but with a single, simple purpose.
He was searching for someone strong enough to kill him....
There was no sadness in that thought. No fear. No anger. Just a quiet, almost delighted anticipation. The shinibi had lived his life in defiance of the rules, of the expectations placed on him. He had chosen his own path, one that led him through countless battles, countless deaths, and countless betrayals, taken him to the halls of the gods and to the pits of hell. He had fought for survival, for power, and, ultimately, for freedom.
But what was freedom if there was nothing left to challenge him? What was the point of living if there was no one left to fight?
He had grown bored of the shadows. The quiet days of solitary reflection had offered him no more thrill. The rogue ninja had become something more than a weapon. But now, after years of walking alone, he found himself craving something more, something denied him despite all the freedoms power has earned him.
He saught death...
Not just any death though, he saught a specific death. A death that would come not because of age or sickness, but from a worthy opponent.
He smiled to himself, lips curling at the thought.
Who in Konoha would be strong enough?
His heart quickened. There were names, of course, old comrades, former friends who had once stood beside him in battle or stood against him in the days since. Would they even recognize the murderer he had become? Or would they still see the boy who had once bled for the village and offer him unsaught forgiveness? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to be reunited. He wasn’t here to ask for forgiveness.
He was here to die.
To face death not as a victim, but as someone who had outlived every challenge life had thrown his way.
His chakra hummed softly as he moved deeper into the forest, the shadows folding around him like an old cloak. The village loomed ahead, its pulse growing stronger with each step. He could hear the murmurs of life, the laughter of children, the clang of metal on metal as training drills echoed from the great dojos, the rush of footfalls on the streets and a thousand other sounds of the bustling village.
There were warriors here, strong shinobi, some of the best in the world. The thought made his pulse quicken. Could any of them defeat him? Could any of them end the life of the missing ninja who had spent years honing his skills, sharpening his body into something that could stand against even the greatest?
Maybe.
His smile widened. He wasn’t just looking for any opponent. He was looking for someone who could match him. A true battle, the kind where the winner and the loser didn’t matter, because the fight itself would be the end of him.
The rogue’s footsteps were quiet as he moved towards the gates of Konoha, but he wasn't slipping through shadows. He wasn’t concerned with hiding for he didn’t care if anyone saw him. He was beyond that. His eyes scanned the faces of the villagers at the gates, searching, waiting for someone to notice him, to recognize the challenge he offered.
A slow movement caught his eye. A shinobi, strong and disciplined, stepping through the village gates, indicating with his hand for Yong to approach. His posture was perfect, his expression unreadable. Another warrior. The rogue’s heart skipped a beat in anticipation. Could this be the one? Could this shinobi be the answer to his final, fateful question?
He approached, his movements deliberate, almost casual. There was no rush. He had all the time in the world, or rather, what was left of it.
The rogue stopped before the shinobi , locking eyes with him. He could see the confusion in the man’s gaze in response to his own intense stare. The recognition, the flicker of hesitation. It was a familiar feeling. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t need a response. All he needed was a challenge.
"Halt, what is your business with Konoha?
A laugh, low and dark, escaped his lips.
"I’m looking for someone strong enough to kill me," he said simply, his voice cold and quiet, yet tinged with excitement. "Someone who can finally put an end to this."
The guards eyes narrowed, fingers twitching toward the hilt of his weapon ready for an attack. But there was no fear in the rogue’s voice and he did not move to attack. There was only the smallest hint of the concealed thrill of knowing that this could be it. This could be the moment he had been waiting for. He wasn’t afraid of dying. In fact, he welcomed it. He had been running from it for so long, but now... now it would come on his terms.
The rogue’s grin widened. "Are you strong enough?"
He didn’t care if the shinobi attacked or hesitated. He didn’t care if he died here, on the streets of Konoha, or in some distant corner of the world. The only thing that mattered was that, for once in his life, he had found someone who might be able to end his journey.
And he was eager to see if they could.
Because, in the end, what was a rogue ninja without a worthy end?
It was time to find out.
He stood still, letting the memories wash over him for a moment, both the good and the bad, the incredible and the simple, nothing forgotten and no regrets. The village was just beyond the trees now, so close the memories felt like only moments ago. Konoha, his former home. Once, it had been everything! A place of loyalty, duty, and bonds. He had shed all of that long ago. His choices, his path, had taken him far from it. A rogue. A ghost. A murderer.
But now he was back. Not out of regret, nore seeking redemption, but with a single, simple purpose.
He was searching for someone strong enough to kill him....
There was no sadness in that thought. No fear. No anger. Just a quiet, almost delighted anticipation. The shinibi had lived his life in defiance of the rules, of the expectations placed on him. He had chosen his own path, one that led him through countless battles, countless deaths, and countless betrayals, taken him to the halls of the gods and to the pits of hell. He had fought for survival, for power, and, ultimately, for freedom.
But what was freedom if there was nothing left to challenge him? What was the point of living if there was no one left to fight?
He had grown bored of the shadows. The quiet days of solitary reflection had offered him no more thrill. The rogue ninja had become something more than a weapon. But now, after years of walking alone, he found himself craving something more, something denied him despite all the freedoms power has earned him.
He saught death...
Not just any death though, he saught a specific death. A death that would come not because of age or sickness, but from a worthy opponent.
He smiled to himself, lips curling at the thought.
Who in Konoha would be strong enough?
His heart quickened. There were names, of course, old comrades, former friends who had once stood beside him in battle or stood against him in the days since. Would they even recognize the murderer he had become? Or would they still see the boy who had once bled for the village and offer him unsaught forgiveness? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to be reunited. He wasn’t here to ask for forgiveness.
He was here to die.
To face death not as a victim, but as someone who had outlived every challenge life had thrown his way.
His chakra hummed softly as he moved deeper into the forest, the shadows folding around him like an old cloak. The village loomed ahead, its pulse growing stronger with each step. He could hear the murmurs of life, the laughter of children, the clang of metal on metal as training drills echoed from the great dojos, the rush of footfalls on the streets and a thousand other sounds of the bustling village.
There were warriors here, strong shinobi, some of the best in the world. The thought made his pulse quicken. Could any of them defeat him? Could any of them end the life of the missing ninja who had spent years honing his skills, sharpening his body into something that could stand against even the greatest?
Maybe.
His smile widened. He wasn’t just looking for any opponent. He was looking for someone who could match him. A true battle, the kind where the winner and the loser didn’t matter, because the fight itself would be the end of him.
The rogue’s footsteps were quiet as he moved towards the gates of Konoha, but he wasn't slipping through shadows. He wasn’t concerned with hiding for he didn’t care if anyone saw him. He was beyond that. His eyes scanned the faces of the villagers at the gates, searching, waiting for someone to notice him, to recognize the challenge he offered.
A slow movement caught his eye. A shinobi, strong and disciplined, stepping through the village gates, indicating with his hand for Yong to approach. His posture was perfect, his expression unreadable. Another warrior. The rogue’s heart skipped a beat in anticipation. Could this be the one? Could this shinobi be the answer to his final, fateful question?
He approached, his movements deliberate, almost casual. There was no rush. He had all the time in the world, or rather, what was left of it.
The rogue stopped before the shinobi , locking eyes with him. He could see the confusion in the man’s gaze in response to his own intense stare. The recognition, the flicker of hesitation. It was a familiar feeling. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t need a response. All he needed was a challenge.
"Halt, what is your business with Konoha?
A laugh, low and dark, escaped his lips.
"I’m looking for someone strong enough to kill me," he said simply, his voice cold and quiet, yet tinged with excitement. "Someone who can finally put an end to this."
The guards eyes narrowed, fingers twitching toward the hilt of his weapon ready for an attack. But there was no fear in the rogue’s voice and he did not move to attack. There was only the smallest hint of the concealed thrill of knowing that this could be it. This could be the moment he had been waiting for. He wasn’t afraid of dying. In fact, he welcomed it. He had been running from it for so long, but now... now it would come on his terms.
The rogue’s grin widened. "Are you strong enough?"
He didn’t care if the shinobi attacked or hesitated. He didn’t care if he died here, on the streets of Konoha, or in some distant corner of the world. The only thing that mattered was that, for once in his life, he had found someone who might be able to end his journey.
And he was eager to see if they could.
Because, in the end, what was a rogue ninja without a worthy end?
It was time to find out.
He didn't wear his usual sennin style clothing, but rather simply clothing that could get dirtied by anything needed right now. Yet not too simple so he could meet officials too. "Good afternoon..." his voice sounded calm, his gaze didn't have that spark of life right now but was a dual-colored puddle. He had scaled following up from one hand to the lower arm. Scales on his chest that seemed like a slashing motion. His hairs tied back. "I heard that you wished to die..." That was when he saw who it was, a big drag was taken from his cigarette. I guess keeping friends was also out of the nope. "YONG?!" He called out, then let the smoke escape his lungs again too. "Are you on a suicide mission to something?! AHOKA"