Twilight settled over the quarry.
There was still enough light to make out shapes and movement, but the world had already slowed. Fires burned low. Voices were gone. Most of the camp had sunk into deep sleep.
It was the right moment.
Ken moved.
He didn't rush. He didn't hesitate.
The first guard never realized he wasn't alone. Ken closed in silently, one arm locking around the man's throat while the other braced his head. A sharp twist. The body went limp without a sound.
No blood.
Ken eased the corpse down and slipped away.
The next guard stood farther out, half-awake, leaning against a wooden post. Ken crouched, formed a seal, and released a compact shot of earth.
The mud bullet struck cleanly.
The guard collapsed where he stood.
Ken didn't look back.
This time, he didn't rely on luck. Experience guided his path. Those close were dealt with quietly. Those farther away never saw him. Sleeping figures didn't wake.
They never would.
By the time Ken reached the center of the stronghold, the quarry was silent.
Too silent.
He slowed.
The leader's hut stood slightly apart, reinforced with thicker wood and stone. Ken approached carefully, senses stretched outward, feet light against the ground.
Nothing.
No movement. No vibration.
His instincts screamed anyway.
Wrong.
Ken jumped back.
A spike of hardened earth erupted from the ground where he had been standing, tearing through wood and stone alike.
It missed him by inches.
Ken landed several steps away as the spike crumbled back into the ground.
Footsteps sounded from inside the hut.
A rogue stepped out.
He was tall, close to six feet, broad-shouldered, built like someone who had survived more battles than he'd lost. Ken's eyes dropped instinctively.
A forehead protector hung loosely around the rogue's neck.
Scratched.
Rogue shinobi, Iwagakure.
Shuriken shrieked through the air.
Ken reacted instantly, kunai flashing as he retreated. Metal rang sharply as he deflected what he could, the rest embedding themselves into wood and dirt around him.
The rogue sneered.
"So Konoha's sending kids now," he said. "Must be desperate."
He launched forward.
Ken tried to evade, but the distance vanished too quickly. There was no space to disengage.
He forced chakra into his feet and surged forward instead, meeting the charge head-on.
Kunai collided.
The impact sent a violent shock through Ken's arm. His grip broke, and he was flung backward, boots carving lines through the dirt.
The rogue was already forming seals midair.
A dense ball of stone tore toward him.
Ken's feet hit the ground.
An earth wall erupted just in time.
The stone ball shattered it instantly, earth exploding outward, but its momentum died with it. Dust filled the air.
Ken moved.
He kicked off the tree behind him, launching upward as his hands flowed through seals.
The rogue's attention were on sides of wall.
Then upward.
A mud shot struck the rogue's left leg.
The rogue twisted at the last second, landing hard but keeping his footing. He staggered once, then straightened.
Ken's eyes narrowed.
The rogue's posture wasn't clean. One hand pressed briefly against his stomach.
Blood darkened the fabric there.
"You're injured," Ken said.
He didn't mean the leg.
Annoyance flickered across the rogue's face, then rage took over.
He formed seals while charging, chakra surging violently through his body. His arms and legs darkened and hardened as power flooded his limbs.
Ken moved to retreat behind the damaged wall.
The rogue didn't slow.
A sweeping kick tore through the remaining earth.
The second kick crashed into Ken's side.
Something cracked.
Pain detonated through his ribs, ripping the breath from his lungs. His vision blurred as he staggered.
He forced his head up.
A punch smashed into his face.
Teeth flew.
Another punch followed immediately, driving his already bloodied face into the tree behind him.
The bark cracked.
Ken slid down the trunk, breath shallow, blood dripping onto the dirt.
The rogue loomed over him and bent down to pick up a fallen kunai.
He laughed, then winced, one hand pressing briefly against his right side.
"Damn it…" he muttered, irritation flashing across his face. "Guess it really did open again."
He straightened slowly.
"You have any idea how hard it is to get medicine out here?" the rogue continued, voice sharp with bitterness. "No village worth robbing keeps a proper supply. Had to make do with scraps. Half-healed wounds. Sloppy work."
"All this effort," the rogue said mockingly. "You wipe out my men, my camp, my income. For what?"
He rolled the kunai in his palm.
"I'll rebuild it. Bandits are easy to find. Villages like these always pay." His eyes hardened. "Everything you did here was a waste."
He raised the blade.
"Any last wish, brat?"
Ken slowly lifted his head.
Blood filled his mouth. He let it pool, then spat.
The rogue didn't flinch.
He never realized why the impact felt wrong.
The kunai slipped from his fingers.
His body collapsed with a dull thud.
Silence returned to the quarry.
Ken stared at the corpse for several seconds, chest heaving.
"…At least," he muttered hoarsely, "I didn't get dragged into trouble on every mission like those protagonists."
He let his head fall back against the tree.