The blue eyed reaper

The village

The village the three men called home was barely a village. It was a grouping of hovels that were built on the mountainside, miles away in every direction from civilization. There wasn't even a road leading to or from the village. Bolt wasn't even sure it was on the map, because the villagers didn't have a name for it. It was simply "home."

There were perhaps one hundred people living there in total, dwelling in wooden shacks and shanties with roofs made of straw. The people were all older, in their late teens at the very youngest. There were no children. They were all thin, and their clothes were old fashioned and threadbare. Bolt could tell they were very poor.

"This way," the old man said, guiding Bolt towards the largest and most well made of the shacks. It was taller and wider than most of the other shacks, and seemed to have been built with some degree of skill. The wood was stained and treated to endure the elements and rot, and the straw roof was woven and packed tightly to keep out the rain.

The inside was plain, with only one room. In the center was a great pit with a roaring fire and several men and women gathered around, all elders from their appearance. As Bolt and the old man entered, they all turned to look at them. Their gazes drifted from Bolt's face to his appearance and then back to his face. Many smiled, coming to the same conclusion the older man did in the forest. He was a ninja.

One of the men sitting around the fire stood up, a wide smile adorning his features. "Excellent job, elder. Where did you find him?" he asked the older man next to Bolt.

The old man chuckled. "He was caught in one of the traps in the forest," he explained. Bolt fought to keep his blush down.

"Excellent, excellent," the man declared. "Greetings! I am Satoshi of the Land of Frost," Satoshi said in greetings, bowing ever so slightly at the waist.

"Bor—Bolt, my name is Bolt," Bolt said, returning the bow. Best not to use his real name. Hopefully Sarada wouldn't mind him using the nickname she gave him as children , if she ever found out.

"And you're from the Hidden Leaf? Where is your headband?" Satoshi asked.

"I'm, er, not on active duty, at the moment," Bolt said, dodging the question. "You said you were from the Land of Frost? What are you doing so far south?"

Satoshi and the others in the room frowned. "Our home was destroyed in the Fourth Great War, and the country has yet to recover enough for us to return," he explained.

"Ah," Bolt said. The fighting was heaviest in the Lands of Frost, Hot Water, and Sound. They were still redrawing the maps to adjusting borders where Madara Uchiha and the Tailed Beasts had done battle. Entire mountains were crushed, whole forests were burned, and rivers ran red with the blood from the battlefields. Many people were displaced and forced to become refugees.

"Do not pity us, young ninja," Satoshi said. "We have been brought closer together as a people due to our struggles. And while we miss our homes dearly, we all survived the war. That is all that matters."

Bolt just nodded. The Land of Fire had been mostly untouched by the war, except at the very northernmost edge of its borders. "Let us not dwell on such unpleasant things, come, we were about to have supper," Satoshi said, gesturing for Bolt to join them around the fire.

Bolt did so, sitting down at the space that was made for him. An elderly woman scooped a few spoonfuls of white soup into a large wooden bowl and handed it to him, before moving on to serve her fellows. Bolt dragged a spoon through the soup. It was some sort of watery rice porridge that was more water than rice. Judging from the envious looks he was receiving from some of the others, he had clearly gotten more than his fair share. Bolt guessed that the reason everyone was so thin in the village was because of their lack of food. What they had given him was probably more than most people at all day.

Not wanting to appear ungrateful or rude, he quietly ate his meal. It was bland and tasteless, more hot water with the occasional starchy chunk of rice than an actual porridge. But it was all these people had. The mood around the fire was quiet and somber, and it made Bolt feel restless. "So," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "What did you guys need my help for? Something about a—" Bolt hesitated. What was it? Demon bear? Yeah, demon bear. "Demon bear?"

If anything, the mood in the shack got worse. "We've been attacked by a large creature," Satoshi explained, clearing his throat. "It appears similar to a bear, but is much larger. A fully grown man could walk under its legs without bending his knees. It comes at night from the forest and destroys our fields, eating what little we have grown. If it is not stopped, we will not survive."

Bolt frowned, but thought that the villagers were over exaggerating. No animal grows that large. "How come you haven't put a request in to a ninja village?" Bolt asked.

The villagers averted their eyes in… shame? "We… have not been able to raise the money to request such assistance. Given that the nature of our problems would almost certainly elevate our request beyond D-class, we would be unable to pay for services rendered," Satoshi said.

"Oh," Bolt said, mentally berating himself. Of course they can't pay for official village assistance, they can barely feed themselves, he thought. Seeing the downtrodden faces of the elders around him, Bolt spoke up. "Well, don't worry! I'm here now, and I'll take care of this demon bear and whatever else is in that forest!"

Bolt's grin widened as small smiles and happy, unshed tears gathered in everyone's eyes. This was what being a ninja was about, whether he was part of the Hidden Leaf or not. Helping people.

After everyone finished eating, Satoshi led Bolt to a small hut near his that he was to spend the night in. It was the same high quality as the hut he had been previously been in, obviously made for the village leader's use. They were giving him their nicest dwelling because he was helping them. Looking around, Bolt could tell that someone was living there before him. They moved out, albeit temporarily, for him.

That night, as Bolt fell asleep, he vowed he would help the people from the Land of Frost before he moved on.

So he woke early, rising with the dawn, and went through the forms of the Gentle Fist that his grandfather, Hiashi Hyūga, had taught him and his sister.

Ever since fighting Mirai back at the capital, he had dedicated himself to staying in top form. If he ever had to fight another ninja, the Gentle Fist would be his greatest weapon.

It was relaxing, in a way. It was more of a long, complicated dance than a series of forms for taijutsu. He could get lost in the stances; long sweeps of the legs, flowing strikes of the palms, piercing thrusts of fingers. Bolt simply let his body run through the motions as his mind wandered.

That was how Satoshi found him. "I see the village is in good hands," the elder commented, drawing Bolt's attention.

Bolt immediately stopped and straightened his clothes, making himself presentable. "Good morning," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"Good morning, indeed," Satoshi greeted with a slight bow. Bolt thought he seemed to be more cheerful than he was last night. Bolt noticed a gathering of villagers a few huts down. "If you feel up to it…" Satoshi said, almost conversationally, as if he didn't know how to approach the subject. "We've formed a hunting party which will lead you into the forest."

Bolt just nodded and let Satoshi lead him down to the assembled men. They were young compared to the rest of the villagers, between the ages of thirty and forty. They wore the same threadbare robes as the rest of the villages, with their loins girded and a length of white cloth holding their hair out of their face and eyes. On their backs were quivers of crude arrows with even cruder bows in their hands.

By the grim looks of determination they wore, Bolt knew that either the demon bear would die, or they would. This was the only home they had now, and they had nowhere to go. They would fight for their homes. "Let's go," Bolt said, tightening the belt that held his shuriken pouches.