"But isn't Orochimaru known for stealing other people's jutsu and secret techniques?" Karin asked, frowning.
Kimimaro nodded slightly. "That's true. His methods are… questionable, even abhorrent at times. But think about it—hasn't the evolution of ninjutsu always been driven by exchange and integration? Why is Konoha so powerful? It's not just because of its numbers or economy. It's because it's diverse in techniques. Though it lies in the Land of Fire, not every Konoha shinobi specializes in Fire Release."
He continued, "The First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, used Wood Release, which no one else has been able to replicate. The Second Hokage, Tobirama, was a master of Water Release and even created many fundamental jutsu like the Shadow Clone and the Flying Thunder God. Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, was called the Professor because he could use all five chakra natures. Minato, the Fourth, was known as the Yellow Flash and revolutionized space-time ninjutsu. Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage, is the world's foremost medical ninja. Isn't it ironic that no one among them is truly known for Fire Release?"
Jugo and Karin looked at each other and nodded. It was true—compared to the other Great Nations, which leaned heavily into their elemental specialties, Konoha was more eclectic.
"Do you really think all of Konoha's jutsu were homegrown?" Kimimaro asked. "No. Some were inherited, some learned through alliance, and some… taken. But they made them their own. That's why I believe the formation of the Hidden Villages by Hashirama was a turning point. It allowed knowledge to accumulate, techniques to flourish. It's just a shame—who's left to truly carry on his will?"
Jugo tilted his head. "So, what do you want to do, Kimimaro? Your vision sounds… idealistic."
"I don't have grand ideals," Kimimaro said, gazing into the distance. "I just think things need to change. I want to help create a world where everyone has access to ninjutsu—not just the elite or those born with special blood. Elemental ninjutsu, secret techniques, kekkei genkai… they should be studied, documented, taught. Those with talent will master more, those with less will still be empowered. But in either case, ninjutsu should serve society—not just be a tool for war."
His voice hardened. "And the Daimyō? They're outdated. The world needs leaders, yes—but not figureheads who control budgets and laws while offering nothing in return. The way things are now, civilians bear the cost while shinobi bleed. Ordinary people deserve better."
Kimimaro clenched his fist. He had lived in a world where the ideals of equality, innovation, and shared prosperity were at least goals—even if imperfectly realized. What he saw in the shinobi world now disgusted him.
He took a breath. "I know what I'm saying sounds unrealistic. But at least it's a direction. Otherwise… what am I doing here? Just chasing after power? Flirting with girls?"
Karin raised an eyebrow. "But didn't you say you've figured out a way to fuse bloodline traits? If that's true, won't you eventually become the strongest bloodline user yourself?"
Kimimaro didn't deny it. He hadn't hidden his discoveries from Karin and Jugo—there was no point. If he wanted to incorporate their abilities later, honesty was necessary.
"If that happens," he said, "then we'll make sure it spreads. We'll have children—lots of them—and we won't restrict their marriages. The more ordinary bloodlines mix with advanced ones, the more widespread those abilities become. And when everyone has power, then power won't matter as much."
Karin's face flushed. "You've already thought about having kids? Wait… are you just laying the groundwork to take more wives? How many kids do you think I can have on my own?"
"Hey! I never said that!" Kimimaro flailed. "You're making stuff up!"
They descended into familiar bickering, but beneath the teasing, a deeper bond was forming. Kimimaro knew the future he envisioned wasn't one they could shoulder yet. They were still small players in a large world.
For now, they could laugh, train, and survive.
"But," Kimimaro added, his tone sharpening, "that Jonin who attacked the civilians today… are we really just going to let that go?"
Karin's expression turned serious. "You're right. That was messed up."
Then she grinned. "You two go teach him a lesson. I'll cheer from the sidelines."
They quickly made their way out of the city. The Lord's procession wasn't moving quickly—civilian carriages never could. It wasn't long before they caught up.
Inside the richly-decorated carriage, a man stirred.
"Hm?" He opened his eyes.
"What is it, Fujiwara?" asked the portly noble lounging beside him.
"I sense something behind us," said the Jonin who had rejoined the carriage after they left the city. "I'll go check it out."
"Someone dares to cause trouble in my territory? I'll leave it to you." Lord Mitsuda leaned back in the carriage, confident in the strength of his Jonin bodyguard.
The Jonin, named Fujiwara, disappeared in a blur of motion, reappearing atop the carriage roof. His flak jacket bore the insignia of a minor shinobi clan allied to the Land of Rivers.
"Oh? The brats from earlier?" Fujiwara sneered. "I held back before, and now you dare chase after us. Interesting. You there—guard the Lord. I'll deal with these three and catch up."
"Lord Mitsuda, should we stop the carriage and support him?" asked one of the Chunin escorts.
"No need," the Lord waved lazily. "Do you doubt Fujiwara's ability?"
"We wouldn't dare," the Chunin replied, bowing his head.
But then Lord Mitsuda leaned forward, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Actually, stop the carriage. I want to watch. It'll be amusing entertainment for the journey."
The carriage slowed to a halt, and the heavily built noble pushed aside the curtain, revealing his bejeweled robes and smug grin.
By now, Kimimaro, Karin, and Jūgo had caught up and stood in the road, blocking the way.
"You three again?" Fujiwara said, stepping off the roof. "I gave you a warning earlier. Now you come looking for death?"
Kimimaro's voice was calm. "You didn't just 'warn' us. You killed innocent people—civilians. Do you intend to leave without taking responsibility?"
Fujiwara blinked, then chuckled darkly. "You're serious? You're shinobi, and you're standing up for peasants?"
Lord Mitsuda barked out a laugh. "You kids have no idea how the world works. Every person in that city answers to the Mitsuda clan. Their lives are ours to take or spare. Fujiwara acted on my authority. What will you do? Kill a noble of the Land of Rivers?"
The guards chuckled nervously, unsure whether to draw their weapons.
Kimimaro's expression didn't change. "That's exactly the kind of thinking that rots this world from the inside. Not all nobles are tyrants, but monsters like you..."
He turned to Karin and Jūgo. "I've thought it over. This world isn't easy to fix. I can't promise we'll succeed. But if we meet scum like this again—"
He drew his bone sword from his palm, the distinctive Shikotsumyaku technique forming a gleaming white blade.
"—killing them is fine."
Fujiwara narrowed his eyes. "So that's how it is? You really want to die today."
Karin activated her chakra-sensing, her expression solemn. "He's strong, Kimimaro."
Jūgo's eyes darkened, his skin beginning to shift. "But we're stronger."
Lord Mitsuda's smirk vanished for the first time.
And then, without further words, the battle began.