Standing alone on the coastal rocks, Zabuza realized he'd made himself too visible. He needed a place to continue his investigation from.

With one last glance at the deceptively calm sea, he turned and headed back to the fishing village.

As he approached the settlement, he was surprised to see the previously empty streets now bustling with life.

Young men with repulsive features emerged. Some stumbled forward, while others huddled in small groups, silent and still.

The stench of fish and decay grew stronger, making his stomach turn. These villagers didn't stare at him like the red-robed priest had, but his ninja instincts picked up on their sneaky glances whenever his back was turned.

What really unsettled him were the eyes watching him from the shadows of the tilted houses and cracked eaves. He pulled his scarf higher, covering more of his face.

He realized his ordinary appearance made him stand out in this village of misfits. Zabuza needed to find a place to stay, and fast, to avoid drawing more attention.

As he navigated the twisting streets, he spotted the boatman who had ferried him to the island. Despite the man's unusual appearance, Zabuza decided to approach him for help.

"Excuse me," he called out, keeping his voice low and neutral. "I'm looking for a place to stay. Can you help me?"

The boatman turned slowly, his fish-like eyes regarding the Mist shinobi blankly. For a long moment, he said nothing, making Zabuza wonder if he'd made a mistake.

Then, without a word, the boatman pointed down a narrow side street and shuffled away.

Zabuza hesitated, then decided to follow the boatman's gesture. He walked down the narrow street, the smell of salt and rot growing stronger with each step.

Just as he thought he'd been led astray, he spotted a weathered wooden sign creaking in the breeze: "Takahashi Inn."

The inn looked like a regular house, but with some extra renovations that made it stand out from its rundown neighbors.

It had a small courtyard and a two-story loft, which made it seem relatively upscale compared to the surrounding houses. Zabuza approached cautiously, his senses on high alert for any sign of danger.

As he entered the courtyard, the inn's owners came out to greet him. They bowed traditionally, and when they straightened up, Zabuza's eyes narrowed slightly.

The couple's faces were mutated, like the villagers he'd seen. They didn't look as grotesque as the red-robed priest, but they were still far from normal.

Their skin was a sickly grayish color, and their eyes bulged slightly from their sockets. The man's mouth seemed too wide, hinting at sharp teeth behind his closed lips.

But it was his wife who really caught Zabuza's attention. She was heavily pregnant, her belly straining against her kimono.

She moved slowly and painfully, as if every motion hurt her. Her husband helped her up with gentle care, which seemed at odds with his monstrous appearance.

"Welcome to our humble inn," the man said, his voice sounding like he was speaking underwater.

"I am Kazuya, and this" - he gestured to the woman beside him - "is my wife, Asao."

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"We don't get many visitors these days. How long will you be staying with us?"

Zabuza forced himself to keep a neutral expression. "Just a few days," he replied. "I'm a traveler, passing through."

Kazuya nodded, a motion that looked unnatural with his stiff neck. "Very well. Please, follow me. I'll show you to your room."

As they walked towards the loft, Zabuza noticed a small boy standing in a nearby doorway.

The boy was no more than half the height of an adult, and his hands clutched the edge of the sliding door. His head was twisted at an unnatural angle as he stared fixedly at Asao's swollen belly.

When Zabuza passed by, the boy's head snapped towards him with an unnatural speed, despite his awkward posture. The child's face was a blank slate, his features not yet as distorted as the adults, but clearly heading in that direction.

What really caught Zabuza's attention, though, were the boy's eyes - the pupils were fading, replaced by a milky film that reminded him of dead fish floating in a stagnant pond.

"Our son, Hiroshi," Kazuya said, noticing his gaze.

There was an odd note in his voice – pride mixed with something darker. "He's... excited about his new sibling."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Whatever was happening to the people on this island, it wasn't sparing the kids.

He wondered what kind of creature Asao was carrying in her womb.

The loft where Zabuza would be staying was cramped and clearly a recent addition to the main structure. A small bed occupied one corner, with a tiny table and two chairs making up the rest of the furniture.

The air was thick with the smell of disuse, and cobwebs hung from the corners, suggesting the room hadn't been cleaned or used in a long time.

As soon as Kazuya left, Zabuza's ninja instincts kicked in. He searched the room thoroughly, looking for hidden surveillance or secret compartments.

But to his surprise, he found nothing. Instead, he discovered a small, worm-eaten hole in the floor that allowed him to observe the corridor below.

The floor was thin, and he could easily overhear conversations from downstairs. A window facing the courtyard provided a potential escape route if needed. It wasn't ideal, but it would do.

Satisfied with his search, he lay down on the bed, his mind racing as he tried to process everything he'd seen and heard since arriving on the island.

The timeline was becoming clearer - the changes in the Land of Waves had started about two months ago, around the time Kojiro defected from the Hidden Mist's assassination squad.

It made a certain kind of sense. A missing-nin of Kojiro's caliber could easily overthrow the daimyo of a small nation like the Land of Waves.

Many missing-nins sought out isolated locations to establish their power bases.

What puzzled him, though, was Kojiro's decision to set himself up as a religious figure.

Why establish a cult?

Such overt actions risked drawing attention from Kiri, something a smart missing-nin would typically avoid at all costs.

Moreover, if Tazuna's ramblings held any truth, Kojiro seemed to have acquired new abilities.

Providing fish and gold from the sea was one thing – a skilled water-style user could potentially pull that off – but controlling monstrous sea creatures and transforming an entire population?

These were beyond any jutsu he had ever encountered.

He briefly considered the possibility of genjutsu, but quickly dismissed it.

Even the most powerful illusion techniques, including the legendary Sharingan of the Uchiha clan, couldn't trap an entire population in a shared hallucination for months on end.

And if it was a genjutsu, he was confident he would have seen through it by now.

No, the changes in the Land of Waves seemed terrifyingly real. The mutated faces, the strange behaviors, the oppressive atmosphere – all of it pointed to something far beyond normal techniques.

His mind drifted back to what he knew of Kojiro's defection. It had begun with a mission to investigate reports of a fanatical new religion taking hold in a certain area.

During that mission, Kojiro had killed his comrades and fled from Kiri. Could that investigation have been the catalyst for all of this?

If Kojiro had encountered something during that mission – it could explain his sudden betrayal and the bizarre events unfolding on this island.

Suddenly, Zabuza's body jolted upright, every nerve tingling with alarm. The Takahashi family had been silent for far too long.

In a creaky old inn like this, he should have been able to hear their movements, their conversations. But there was only silence.

He moved silently to the worm-eaten hole in the floor, peering down into the corridor below.

The Takahashi family - Kazuya, Asao, and little Hiroshi - stood motionless in the hallway, their heads tilted at impossible angles as they stared directly up at the ceiling.

At him.

Their eyes, now completely white and pupil-less.

Then, Asao's swollen belly began to ripple and shift, as if something inside was trying to claw its way out.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the pounding of his heart in his ears.

He knew that he was no longer simply investigating a missing-nin.

The true horror of the Land of Waves was only beginning to reveal itself.