The late afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the Tsuchikage's office, but the golden light couldn't do much to warm the stone chamber that had been home to Iwagakure's leaders for generations. Onoki sat behind his heavy oak desk, his fingers tapping against the wood as he studied the intelligence reports scattered in front of him like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
"The casualty reports are confirmed?" he asked without looking up.
The weathered elder near the window gave a short nod. "Our observers counted at least forty Suna dead in yesterday's engagement alone. Konoha lost twenty-three, but they held the high ground near the eastern pass."
"And the western settlements?"
"Two outposts have changed hands twice in the past few days," replied the female elder. "Neither side can maintain a solid hold. The fighting's grinding both sides down."
Onoki finally raised his head, his eyes moving between the assembled council members. "At this pace, how much longer can they keep it up?"
The gray-haired commander flipped through his notes before answering. "If things continue as they are, Suna has maybe three weeks left before they're forced to pull back and start talking about a ceasefire."
Onoki leaned back in his chair. Everything was unfolding exactly as they'd anticipated. He rose and moved to the window, studying the village below.
"The longer this conflict drags on, the weaker both villages become," he said. "That serves our interests well." He paused. "However…"
The female elder leaned slightly. "At the current pace, Konoha appears likely to emerge on top. If they do, they'll gain control over River Country's territory."
Onoki's eyes narrowed. "Indeed. And that would be… problematic for us."
The intelligence commander spoke up after a moment. "What course of action do you recommend, Lord Tsuchikage? Do we maintain our current stance of neutrality, or should we begin preparing for intervention?"
Onoki returned to his desk, hands clasped behind his back. "We must ensure this conflict continues until both sides have suffered significant losses. The optimal outcome would be mutual exhaustion, heavy casualties for both villages, with neither achieving a decisive victory."
One of the senior jonin nodded. "A sound strategy."
"But how do we guarantee such an outcome?" the male elder asked.
"We could provide support to whichever side appears to be losing," the commander suggested. "Not enough assistance to secure them victory, but sufficient to prolong the fighting."
The council members exchanged glances as they considered the implications. It was ruthless, but strategically sound.
The female elder nodded slowly. "Then we'll need better intelligence than what we're getting from border observers."
"Exactly." Onoki settled back into his chair. "I want additional spy networks in that region immediately."
The elder gave a thin, knowing smile. "Let them rip each other to pieces. We'll stay patient, grow stronger. When the dust settles, we'll be the ones left standing."
The intelligence commander scribbled notes on his scroll. "I'll work with the intelligence division. We can have new teams in place within forty-eight hours."
They spent another hour going over logistics and backup plans, but the real decision was already made. Iwagakure would wait, watch, and strike when the moment was right, patient and ruthless as always.
When the sun finally dropped behind the western mountains, leaving the office in gray twilight, Onoki felt genuinely pleased with how the day had gone. Wars always created opportunities, but only for leaders smart enough to see them coming.
...
The outskirts of Kitaura looked exactly like what you'd expect from a trading town trying really hard to seem important. A few decent shops, some warehouses, and enough foot traffic to make the merchants feel like they weren't completely wasting their time.
Our little convoy had made it through the town without anyone else trying to kill us, which was honestly more than I'd expected. The merchants seemed pleased enough with our escort service, though they kept shooting nervous glances at the treeline like they expected another squad of bandits to jump out at any second.
Can't say I blamed them.
"Well," Jiraiya said, clapping his hands together with way too much enthusiasm, "this is where I leave you kids."
I looked up from where I'd been walking alongside one of the wagons. "Already? But we were just starting to bond."
"Ha! You're a riot, kid." He stepped back, giving the whole caravan a quick once-over. "You did good work out there. Both teams." His eyes lingered on me for just a second longer than necessary. "Keep your heads on straight, and try not to get into any more trouble."
"Us? Trouble? I have no idea what you're talking about."
He let out a short laugh. "Right. Sure you don't." He started backing toward the forest edge with a grin on his face. "Remember what I told you about—"
"Yeah, yeah," I called after him, waving him off. "We got it, old man."
He stopped for a second, gave me one of those looks that was half-annoyed and half something I couldn't quite figure out, then shrugged. "Take care of yourself, brat."
And just like that, he was gone.
I held up my middle finger at the empty trees. 'See you never, sperm donor.'
"Did you seriously just—" Tsume shook her head. "You flipped off a jonin."
"So?"
"So? Shinji, you're dead. Like, actually dead."
"He's gone, isn't he?" I shrugged. "What's he gonna do, come back and bite me?"
That was when Miyabi stepped up beside me. "So… this is where we part ways."
The way she said it made everyone go quiet. Her teammates shuffled closer, Noboru trying to puff out his chest like he wasn't scared, Yua staring down the road like she could see trouble coming.
"Yeah." I scratched the back of my neck. "We're heading to the inn. You guys should probably do the same."
"Rest. Right." she nodded too quickly. "The merchants want to leave at dawn, so..."
"That's... yeah, that's smart. Long road ahead."
We stood there for a second. Nobody wanted to say what we were all thinking.
"Look," I started, then stopped. The words didn't want to come. 'Try not to die' didn't feel right. "Just… you know."
"Yeah." Her voice was steady, but her hands weren't. "We know."
Noboru opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then closed it. Yua was doing that thing where she pretended to check her gear but was really just keeping her hands busy.
Before the silence could get any heavier, Mikoto stepped forward and pulled Miyabi into a hug.
"Don't be stupid out there."
"Wasn't planning on it." Miyabi hugged back, and some of the tightness in her shoulders loosened. When they separated, she looked at all of us. "Thanks. For... you know."
"Don't get all weird about it."
That earned a huff of breath that was almost a laugh. "Right. No weird."
"Good." I nudged a rock with the toe of my boot. "Try to make it boring from here on out."
"With our luck?" Yua finally spoke up, voice dry. "We'll probably run into bandits before lunch tomorrow."
They separated, and for a moment nobody seemed to know what to say. Then Noboru cleared his throat.
"Uh, thanks for everything. The backup, the medical stuff..." He gestured vaguely in my direction. "We probably would've been screwed without you guys."
"Probably?" Tsume snorted. "Kid, you would've been paste."
"Tsume," Mikoto said mildly.
"What? It's true."
I waved them off. "Just don't do anything stupid between here and the capital. These guys hitting trade routes aren't amateurs."
"We'll be fine," Miyabi said, though she didn't sound entirely convinced. "It's just one more stretch of road."
'Famous last words,' I muttered, then louder. "Right. Well, see you around."
With that, the two groups split off. Team 4 headed toward the main road with their merchants, while we turned toward the cluster of buildings that made up Kitaura proper. I watched them go until they disappeared around a bend, then shook my head.
"Think they'll make it?" Tsume asked, apparently thinking along the same lines.
"Miyabi's smart and her team's gotten a lot better since the Academy. They'll be fine."
"You don't sound convinced."
"I'm not," I admitted. "But there's not much we can do about it. Different missions, different objectives."
The inn turned out to be exactly what you'd expect from a trading town, clean enough, decent food, and rates that wouldn't bankrupt a genin team's mission allowance. We got a table near the back, ordered more food than we probably needed, and settled in to decompress from the past few days.
I was halfway through what might have been the best roasted chicken we'd had in weeks when the mood shifted.
"So." Mikoto set down her chopsticks. "We should probably figure out what we're doing next."
"Like what?" Tsume asked around a mouthful of rice.
"Our mission here. We're supposed to be helping other Konoha teams investigate these attacks and assist them with whatever problems they need solved in this area."
"Right." Tsume swallowed. "Haven't heard anything in a while though. Things still as weird as when we got here?"
"Actually…" I set my teacup aside. "One of my clones just dispelled. Something's going on."
Mikoto set down her chopsticks. "What kind of something?"
"The kind where everyone's running around like their hair's on fire." I rubbed my temples. "Kumo's pulling all their operatives out of the area, the ones behind these attacks on our caravans."
"Shit." Tsume summed up what we were all thinking.
"How long do we have?" Mikoto asked.
I picked at my chicken. "The team my clone was with had been watching safe houses for days. Now they're being told to move on everything at once."
"Before the trail goes cold," Mikoto finished.
"Exactly."
"So what does that mean for us?" Tsume asked.
"Good question. Actually, the clone got some orders before it dispelled. We're supposed to gather at our base, they're planning to raid a couple of suspected safe houses on the east side of town. Apparently, they want extra bodies for containment in case anyone tries to run."
"When?"
"Soon as we can get there." I tossed some coins on the table to cover our meal.
Mikoto gave me a long look. "How long ago did you get those orders?"
"Five minutes? Maybe nine."
"And you just... let us keep eating?"
I shrugged. "You looked hungry. What's nine minutes?"
"Most people would've dragged us out of here immediately," she said, but she was almost smiling.
"Yeah, well. Most people aren't me."
"True." She slung her pack over her shoulder. "Where exactly are we meeting them?"
"East side, by the old grain warehouse." I headed for the door, the other two falling in behind me.
We stepped out into the evening air, the temperature having dropped enough to make me wish I'd brought a heavier jacket. The streets were still busy with people finishing their day, completely oblivious to whatever was about to go down in their quiet little town.
"So what are we actually looking for?" Tsume asked as we started threading through the crowd.
"I'm guessing papers, intel, maybe someone dumb enough to still be hanging around." I dodged around a merchant hauling a cart. "Though if Kumo's really pulling out, I'd bet they probably torched anything useful already. That's what I'd do anyway."
"So this is just cleanup?"
"Pretty much." I grinned. "But hey, maybe we'll get lucky and find someone who overslept."
We jumped up to the rooftops, picking up speed as we headed east. The familiar thump of our feet on tile felt good after dragging our feet through dirt and gravel for hours.
Mikoto was quiet for a few minutes, just keeping pace beside me. I could tell something was on her mind from the way her face kept twisting into these little worried expressions, her eyebrows would furrow, then she'd catch herself and smooth out her features, only to start frowning again a few seconds later.
"You're worried about them," I said.
"A little." She was quiet for another moment. "I know Miyabi's capable, but her teammates... Noboru especially. He's gotten better, but he's still pretty green when it comes to real combat."
"They'll figure it out. Trial by fire and all that."
"Maybe." She paused. "Hey, I was thinking... why didn't you just send a clone with them?"
"What?"
"Why not have one of your clones tag along with Miyabi?" She said, then added quickly, "I mean, I know it's not really our mission, but I'm pretty confident that even a single clone of yours would be enough to handle a squad of chunin if they run into trouble."
"They won't be genin forever. They can handle themselves."
"But a clone would make it safer."
I shrugged. It would. But there were a lot of teams out there, and I couldn't exactly babysit all of them.
"Don't tell me you're too lazy to bother," she said with a pout that was probably illegal in at least three countries.
"Come on," she said, and there was something in her voice that made me glance over. "Please?"
"Why do you care so much anyway?"
"What do you mean?"
"About Miyabi. You've been acting weird ever since she left. Worried, even."
Mikoto was quiet for a few jumps. "We're friends."
"Friends?"
"Childhood friends. Our families know each other."
"Huh." That was news to me. "You never mentioned that."
"It never came up." She shrugged. "We used to hang out before Academy."
I thought about it. If it were Mikoto or Tsume out there...
"Fine. I'll slip a clone into their caravan later."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Why not."
The old grain warehouse turned out to be exactly what it sounded like, a big, mostly empty building that smelled like dust and decades of stored rice. When we got there, a bunch of people were clustered around some crates that had been turned into a makeshift command post.
Several chunin, a few genin teams, some faces I recognized from Academy. The jonin running things had silver hair and looked like he needed about three more hours of sleep.
"—Team 6 takes the north entrance with Takami. Team 3, you're with Hibino on the supply depot." He looked up when we approached, pausing mid-assignment. "Team 7? About time."
"Sorry," I said. "Got here as fast as we could."
"Dan Kato," he replied with a brief nod, then continued with his assignments. "Team 8, backup position on the west side..."
A few more orders, some last-minute adjustments, and then he turned back to us. "Team 7, you're with Team 10, and Riku here will guide you to the remaining safe houses."
I glanced over at Team 10, three genin I vaguely remembered from Academy classes, though they'd graduated the year before us. Their leader, a smiling kid with short light-brown hair, gave me a small nod.
"What's the objective?" he asked.
Riku, a chunin with a scar across his nose, stepped forward. "Simple sweep and clear. Intelligence suggests they've been using these locations as temporary safe houses. We go in fast, secure any personnel or documents, and get out before anyone has time to react."
"Rules of engagement?" Mikoto asked.
"Capture if possible, but don't take unnecessary risks. These people are professionals," Dan said seriously. "Follow Riku's lead, do what he says, and try not to let anyone slip through the net."
We followed Riku out of the warehouse and into the narrow streets, moving at a pace that was just short of a full sprint. The chunin knew where he was going, leading us through back alleys and side streets that kept us away from the main foot traffic.
"Team leader's Nawaki," the brown-haired kid from Team 10 said as we ran, flashing a big smile. "Don't think we've met before."
"Shinji. That's Mikoto and Tsume."
"Hey." Mikoto gave him a small polite smile.
"Yeah, hi." Nawaki's smile got even bigger, and I caught him stealing a glance at her before quickly looking ahead again. "So, uh, we've been tracking these guys for three days now. Pretty routine surveillance stuff, but—"
His gaze drifted back toward Mikoto. "I mean, nothing too exciting until today. We've been doing a lot of, uh, reconnaissance work."
I caught Tsume rolling her eyes. The poor guy was completely smitten and had absolutely no idea how to handle it.
"Eyes up," Riku called back without turning around. "We're almost there."
"Right. Eyes forward." Nawaki straightened up, trying to look serious and professional. It lasted about ten seconds before he shot another sideways look at Mikoto. The kid had it bad.
"So," he said, "you guys been doing missions like this before, or...?"
"A few," she said.
"Cool. That's... that's really cool."
Tsume made a noise that might have been a snort. Nawaki either didn't hear it or pretended not to.
The first safe house turned out to be a complete bust. We went in fast, Riku leading while both genin teams covered exits and swept rooms, but all we found were empty spaces and the faint smell of burned paper.
"Damn," Riku muttered, kicking at some ash in what had probably been a small fireplace. "They torched everything."
The second place was the same story. A small apartment above a tea shop, cleared out so thoroughly it looked like no one had ever lived there. The only signs of recent occupation were some scuff marks on the floor and a few stray pieces of what might have been coded messages, but nothing readable.
"How long you think they've been gone?" Nawaki asked, then immediately looked at Mikoto like her answer would be the most important thing he'd ever heard.
"Not long." she crouched by the window, checking the dust. "Maybe a few hours."
"A few hours," Nawaki repeated, nodding like she'd just solved world hunger.
The third location was a small warehouse on the edge of town. Same result, empty shelves, clean floors, and absolutely nothing useful left behind.
"This is bullshit," Tsume said while Kuromaru sniffed around for scent trails.
"Word got out," Riku said. "First team hits their target, everyone else panics and runs."
We were heading toward the fourth spot when we heard it, the crash of metal, definitely jutsu, probably an explosion.
"That way." Riku was already changing direction.
We hit the rooftops, jumping toward the noise. Whatever was happening, it was loud and getting louder.
"Think somebody actually found something?" Nawaki asked, sounding hopeful.
"Guess we'll find out," I said, already wondering what we were about to walk into.
When we crested the rooftop, the scene below was a mess. Four genin and one chunin from our side were getting absolutely demolished by four Kumo chunin. One genin lay motionless in a pool of blood, while three more were on the ground, groaning and clutching wounds. The lone Konoha chunin was in full retreat, three of the enemy chunin hot on his heels, while the fourth seemed to be securing something from what looked like a destroyed building.
"Fuck." Riku's face went white. "Run back and get Dan! Now!"
He leaped down without waiting for a response, rushing toward the retreating chunin.
I made a quick hand sign and popped a clone. "Nawaki," I said, grabbing the kid's shoulder as he started to follow Riku. "I need you and your team to protect my clone while he heals the wounded."
"What?" His eyes darted between the bleeding genin and Riku, who looked like he was about to charge into a meat grinder. "But Riku—"
"Those kids are gonna bleed out if someone doesn't help them right now."
Nawaki stared at the bodies below, jaw working. "Shit. This is... shit."
"I know. But this is how we save the most people."
He looked at Riku one more time, then back at the wounded. "Yeah. Okay. We got your clone."
"Good." I turned to my team. "Mikoto, Tsume, we're helping Riku. Let's move."
We dropped into the mess, leaving Nawaki's team to get my clone to the casualties. The sounds of combat were getting closer, and I could hear Riku shouting something that definitely wasn't polite.
...
We hit the ground running just as the lead Kumo spotted us coming. He barked something in their direction, probably orders, definitely not a compliment, and two of his guys peeled off from chasing the retreating Konoha-nin to deal with us.
The two coming our way moved like they'd graduated from the "how to not die horribly" academy. Professional, coordinated, with a confident stride that said they'd buried plenty of cocky genin and weren't planning to break their streak today.
I popped a shadow clone without breaking stride. "Go."
The clone shot forward while I curved left, creating angles. Behind me, I heard Mikoto's voice.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
The jutsu wasn't meant to kill, too telegraphed, too easy to dodge at range. But it did exactly what we needed. Both chunin scattered like startled cats, and my clone used their split-second of distraction to close the gap.
Tsume's kunai whistled past, forcing subtle dodges. Smart girl. Keep them honest without overcommitting.
The first chunin recovered fast, pivoting into my clone with a vicious knee strike that would've rearranged internal organs. My clone twisted sideways, the knee skimming past, then grabbed the extended leg and used the chunin's own momentum against him, elbow driving into the exposed kidney like a piston.
The chunin hissed, stumbled, but rolled with it. These weren't academy dropouts.
His partner tried to flank me, hands already blurring through seals. Lightning jutsu, probably. I could see the chakra building, crackling between his fingers.
I didn't let him finish his light show.
The distance closed in three explosive steps. His eyes widened, genin weren't supposed to move like that, but credit where it's due, he had the reflexes to abort his jutsu and shift into a defensive stance. Forearms up, weight centered, ready to absorb or redirect whatever amateur hour garbage I threw at him.
Too bad for him I'd left amateur hour back in the academy.
My opening strike was pure misdirection, a telegraphed straight punch aimed at his sternum that screamed "predictable genin attack." He bought it completely, committing to a block that left his lower body wide open. The real strike came from my rear leg, knee driving upward in a tight arc that slipped under his guard and caught him just above the hip bone.
He grunted, staggered sideways, but kept his feet. Good recovery.
He countered immediately with a vicious backhand that would've rearranged my dental work. I dropped under it, feeling the wind from his knuckles ruffle my hair, then pivoted on my back foot to launch a spinning heel kick at his ribs.
He managed to get his forearm up in time, deflecting the worst of it, but I felt the solid impact travel up my leg.
'Definitely chunin level,' I noted, already repositioning. 'Way better than those bandit scrubs.'
The problem was, so was I.
I flowed with his deflection instead of fighting it, using the momentum to step inside his guard before he could reset. Too close for him to use his reach advantage, too close for him to see what was coming next.
My elbow found his solar plexus like a guided missile, driving the air from his lungs in a sharp, satisfying wheeze. Before he could even think about recovering, I grabbed his shoulder with my left hand and drove my knee upward toward his floating ribs.
He managed to drop his arm to intercept, forearm taking the brunt of the impact, but physics is a harsh mistress. The force still folded him forward, putting his head at exactly the wrong height.
Or the right height, depending on your perspective.
My hand shot behind my back, fingers curling around the hilt tucked horizontally at my lower spine. The tanto cleared its sheath in a whisper of steel, the blade singing in a quick slash across the back of his exposed neck.
His head separated from his shoulders in a splatter of blood and cartilage, the neck stump gushing like a burst wineskin as the spine snapped with a sickening crunch.
Blood painted an abstract masterpiece across the ground as his body crumpled, but I was already glancing toward my clone's fight. The chunin had seen his partner's sudden decapitation and was now pressing my clone with the frantic desperation of a man who'd just realized he might not be going home for dinner.
Panic made people sloppy. And sloppy people made excellent corpses.
He managed to tag my clone, a glancing blow but wasn't enough to dispel it. Close call, but close only counted in horseshoes and explosive tags.
"Mikoto!" I called out, already moving to flank. "Light him up!"
The chunin's head snapped toward me at the shout, eyes widening as he processed what that meant. Smart guy. Too bad smart wasn't going to save him.
He tried to disengage from my clone, probably planning to put some distance between himself and whatever Mikoto was cooking up. Tried-and-true tactic. Create space, assess threats, don't stand still when someone's about to barbecue you.
But my clone had other plans.
Instead of letting him withdraw, it lunged forward and locked both arms around the chunin's torso in a crushing bear hug. The man's eyes went wide with the sudden realization of what was about to happen.
"You crazy—" he started, driving his kunai between my clone's ribs in desperation.
The clone just grinned through the pain. "See you in hell."
It held on until the very last second, only dispelling when the kunai finally went deep enough. It vanished in a puff of smoke just as the roaring sphere of flame engulfed the chunin, leaving him with nowhere to run and nothing to hide behind except his rapidly igniting clothes.
His scream ripped across the clearing, shrill as a rusty saw through bone.
He staggered out of the flames, a walking torch stumbling in blind agony. His hair was gone, his clothes were melting into his skin, and the smell of charred meat filled the air with an aroma that would put you off barbecue for a month.
Three more steps, then his legs gave out and he collapsed onto the stone floor with a wet thud. The flames kept dancing across his body for a few more seconds before finally dying down, leaving behind something that had recently been a person but now looked more like an overcooked steak.
"Well," I said, watching the smoke rise from what used to be a person, "that's one way to get a tan."
Mikoto was staring at the charred corpse with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"You okay?"
"Yes." She shook her head slightly. "Just... tired, I guess."
"Yeah, tell me about it," I said, rolling my shoulders to work out the tension. "We've been on the road for what, days now? Nonstop action, barely any real rest. Starting to feel it."
I glanced toward where the other fight was still going on, four chunin trading blows in a messy brawl, all of them sporting various wounds and looking like they'd been at it for a while. Blood on the ground, torn clothes, exhausted desperation from a fight that had gone on too long.
That's when two of the Kumo chunin caught sight of their fallen comrades.
They went completely still for a second, taking in the headless body and the charred corpse. I saw the exact moment they did the math, two of their guys down, fresh reinforcements on our side, and their mission parameters probably didn't include a last stand in some random alley.
Without a word, they disengaged and bolted.
The two Konoha chunin Riku and another guy I didn't recognize watched them go but didn't give chase. They were both breathing hard and bleeding from multiple cuts. No point pushing their luck when they'd already won.
I turned away from the retreating figures, scanning the area for Nawaki's team. Found them crouched around my clone near the entrance to what looked like a small courtyard, the clone's hands glowing green as he worked on one of the wounded genin.
"How are they doing?" I called out as we approached.
Nawaki looked up, his face pale but determined. "Your clone says three of them should make it. The fourth..." He shook his head. "Too much blood loss before we got here."
I nodded. "Well, three out of four is better than zero out of four."
It wasn't much comfort, but it was the truth. In this business, you learned to take what wins you could get.
Riku limped over, pressing a cloth against a nasty gash on his forearm. "Good work, all of you. That could've gone a lot worse."
"Could've gone better too," Nawaki said, but there wasn't any real criticism in his voice, just the helplessness and exhaustion talking.
"Dan's going to want a full debrief," Riku continued. "But that can wait until we get these wounded back to base."
I looked around at the aftermath, two dead Kumo chunin, one dead Konoha genin, and enough blood on the ground to paint a small house. Just another day in the life of a shinobi.
As we started the slow process of moving the injured, I caught Mikoto looking back at the charred corpse one more time.
"You sure you're okay?"
She met my eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"About?"
"About how normal this is starting to feel."
I didn't have a good answer for that one. Because she was right, it was starting to feel normal. Familiar, even. And I knew exactly why that didn't surprise me as much as it should've, like slipping into an old coat I'd sworn I'd never wear again.
But that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, we just had to get everyone home.
...
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