Konoha: The Honored One

Dark clouds roiled in the sky, painting the heavens in a dismal gray that stretched for miles.

BOOM! A crack of thunder lit up the horizon, followed by a streak of lightning that tore through the gloom like a celestial blade. Heavy rain poured down in torrents, battering the earth below.

In the Land of Water, River Ninja Village—

A minor village, subservient to the Hidden Mist—its streets now lay drenched in scarlet. Corpses littered the ground, and rivulets of blood mingled with the downpour, carving crimson trails through the mud.

Inside a crumbling building,

Hidan groaned dramatically, yanking out the steel pipes with a sickening squelch. Blood gushed from the wounds, but instead of concern, his expression shifted to one of… delight?

As the wounds began knitting themselves together, he let out a guttural laugh.

"Now that's what I call pain! Hah! Praise be to Jashin-sama!" Hidan exclaimed, his tone somewhere between worshipful and unhinged.

In the corner of the room, Kakuzu stood amidst a pile of bodies, his expression as deadpan as ever. "If you're done playing with your food, we have work to do. The longer we waste here, the more their bodies decompose, and the less bounty they're worth."

Hidan, still grinning, shot him a glare. "Tch. You and your money obsession. Is there a single thought in that stitched-up head of yours that isn't about cash?"

Kakuzu didn't even look up from the corpse he was hoisting over his shoulder. "Money doesn't argue, doesn't complain, and never prays to imaginary gods. So yes, I'll stick with money."

Hidan's eye twitched, the vein on his forehead bulging. "Imaginary gods?!" He jabbed a bloodied finger in Kakuzu's direction. "You blasphemous, soulless cheapskate! Jashin-sama's wrath will curse you into bankruptcy for eternity!"

"Then I'll bribe my way out of hell," Kakuzu replied with a dismissive wave.

Ignoring the bickering, the two turned toward their prize: a black-haired man sprawled on the ground, unconscious but alive. The man's chest heaved faintly—Six Tails Jinchūriki, Utakata.

"Let's wrap this up," Kakuzu said, tossing another body onto his pile. "We'll cash these in first, then deliver the Jinchūriki to Akatsuki."

"Typical Kakuzu," Hidan muttered, stomping toward Utakata. "Always thinking about his damn side gigs. I'm telling you, this greed of yours is what's gonna get you sent straight to Jashin-sama for judgment!"

"And you think your creepy rituals make you better?" Kakuzu shot back. "At least I'm contributing to the economy."

The argument was cut short by a light chuckle.

"Man, you two are hilarious. You should take this act on the road."

Both Akatsuki members froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the voice.

Perched casually atop a crumbled stone pillar was a man in black. His spiky white hair gave him an effortlessly cool look, even as the rain drenched him. A pair of sunglasses—yes, sunglasses in this weather—obscured his eyes, and a lollipop jutted from his smirking mouth.

"Yo," Gojo Satoru greeted lazily, raising a hand.

Hidan was the first to recover. "Hey, who the hell are you, and why are you acting all smug up there? You don't even have a forehead protector—what village are you from?!"

Kakuzu's brow furrowed. The name clicked instantly. "Gojo Satoru," he muttered, his voice tinged with caution. "A bounty of 1.5 billion ryo. One of the most dangerous ninjas alive."

Hidan raised an eyebrow. "This guy? With the candy? You've gotta be kidding me."

Gojo tilted his head, the lollipop shifting slightly as his smirk widened. "Oh, come on, Kakuzu. Don't tell me you've been looking me up. Feels like a crush to me."

Hidan snorted. "Tch. Big deal. Join me in worshipping Jashin-sama, and maybe you'll be worth more than your bounty someday."

Gojo's expression turned mockingly thoughtful. "Hmm… Nah. I'll pass. I'm allergic to pyramid schemes and eternal servitude."

"WHAT?!" Hidan's face turned crimson with rage.

"Oh, don't take it personally," Gojo continued, waving his lollipop around like a wand. "I mean, your 'god' sounds about as useful as a wet matchstick in a thunderstorm. Actually…" He grinned. "Dog poop might hold more value. At least it's biodegradable."

That did it.

"You arrogant bastard!" Hidan bellowed, grabbing his triple-bladed scythe. "I'll sacrifice you to Jashin-sama if it's the last thing I do!"

Kakuzu sighed, already regretting his partnership for the millionth time. "Hidan, don't. His strength isn't something we can handle. We shall retreat with the Jinchūriki."

"Retreat?!" Hidan spun around, incredulous. "You're seriously telling me we're running from him? He insulted Jashin-sama, Kakuzu! Have you no shame?"

Kakuzu didn't bother replying, his focus locked on Gojo. He could feel the immense pressure emanating from the man, like a storm barely restrained. He wasn't about to take any unnecessary risks.

Gojo chuckled, leaning back lazily. "Smart choice, Kakuzu. Not many people live long enough to make it." His sunglasses glinted, despite the overcast sky. "But, uh… I can't let you take the Jinchūriki."

"Like hell you can stop us!" Hidan charged, scythe spinning through the air.

The moment Hidan closed the distance, Gojo raised a single hand, his fingers poised as if ready to flick.

CRACK!

Hidan's scythe stopped mid-swing, suspended in the air mere inches from Gojo's face.

"What the—?!" Hidan stared, dumbfounded, as his weapon refused to move any closer.

"Sorry, buddy," Gojo said, his smirk never faltering. "You're about a thousand years too early to touch me."

Kakuzu grabbed Hidan by the back of his collar, yanking him away. "We're leaving. Now."

Before Hidan could argue, a new voice interrupted them.

"Retreat," Zetsu's dual-toned voice echoed as the plant-like figure emerged from the ground. "Leader's orders. Engaging Gojo now would be suicide."

Hidan was very angry just now, and planned to curse that smirking little prick severely.

But since it was the leader's order, they could only retreat first.