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The dust refused to settle.
That alone spoke volumes about the blast's ferocity.
Shisui was surrounded by the rushing Konoha shinobi. They closed in around him, every single one with red-rimmed eyes. These normally stoic, silent men now wore tear tracks on their faces. Tears weren't for men like them. But sometimes, the heart broke anyway.
"Lady… Lady Tsuru…" one man stammered, his voice trembling with fragile hope. He feared the answer.
"Tsuru made it out alive," Shisui said, choosing his words carefully. To say she was 'fine' after that explosion would be suspicious. To say she'd only just 'survived' suggested a brutal ordeal. The implications were vastly different.
The surrounding shinobi seemed to sag with relief, their gazes fixed on Tsuru's pale face. Their eyes were complex. Gratitude. Admiration. Awe. A new, steely resolve. All these emotions played across their features.
Just as their attention was fully absorbed by Tsuru, amidst the dust-covered remnants of flesh and bone, a single finger twitched.
Shisui carefully laid Tsuru in the wagon. Juri fetched a canteen of water from a nearby pond. Then, both boys froze, their hands hovering over Tsuru's blood-soaked collar.
"Tsuru's a girl," Juri stated the obvious, looking from his own hands to Shisui's. Both boys. How were they supposed to change her clothes? But the blood had to go.
One minute later.
Shisui and Juri descended from the wagon at the same time. "We should find a girl to do it," Shisui proposed.
"Right," Juri nodded.
They moved to the foot of a small hill nearby to tend to wounds and assess the minor damage to their supplies. Tsuru lay quietly in the wagon, her breathing shallow but even. She didn't look critically injured. She looked peacefully asleep.
In her mind, the Alluring Conquest System breathed a sigh of relief. The moment Shisui and Juri had considered undressing Tsuru, it had nearly short-circuited. The Yin Yang Ring guaranteed a visual illusion, not a tactile one. If those boys had given in to curiosity and touched the host… the whole 'crossdressing weirdo' secret would be blown.
Not long after their group departed, two figures stirred, trembling, amidst the carnage. They hauled themselves up, bodies a tapestry of ragged, bone-deep wounds.
"Captain…" The spiky-haired man sounded hollow, as if standing alone consumed his last strength. He looked at Kitsuchi. "Captain… you go ahead. I… I don't think I can make it."
His condition was dire. Two steps looked like they'd be his last.
Kitsuchi seemed slightly better off. He roughly grabbed his comrade's arm, eyes red-rimmed as he gritted his teeth. "We go together!"
He couldn't abandon a comrade on the battlefield.
"Don't be so hard on yourselves," a cold, sibilant voice cut through the air. "None of you are going anywhere."
Two massive pythons shot out, coiling around the two men in an instant. Bones cracked. Flesh turned to pulp. It was a brutal, merciless end.
The shinobi behind the speaker showed no reaction.
"Lord Orochimaru." One ninja stepped forward, picking up a forehead protector from the ground. "A Konoha protector. Still shiny. Probably belongs to a recent graduate."
Orochimaru took the protector, his long fingers tracing the polished metal. His gaze swept the devastated explosion site, a faint spark of interest igniting in his pale gold, slit-pupiled eyes. "My intel indicated a supply escort would arrive at the border soon. It seems they met the Iwa-nin."
"What?!" The shinobi behind him widened their eyes, expressions darkening. Supply escorts were usually low-to-mid tier. Meeting an Iwa ambush head-on meant certain annihilation.
Their thoughts were plain on their faces. Orochimaru's lips curled into a thin, meaningful smile. "Not necessarily."
Judging by the scene, the ones annihilated were the Iwa-nin.
"Hyūga Kippū," Orochimaru's gaze shifted to the white-eyed ninja following him. "Find them."
"Yes, sir."
…
With a Hyūga's Byakugan, finding Hizashi's team was trivial.
"Lord Orochimaru." Hizashi retracted his wary gaze and gave a slight bow.
Orochimaru's eyes slid over Hizashi's face, settling on the injured, red-eyed Konoha shinobi behind him. "Report."
His reptilian gaze moved between Kakashi, Shisui, and Juri. Among them, Kakashi was the prodigy, the other two promising Uchiha new blood. But that explosion… none of them could have pulled that off.
"We were ambushed by Iwa-nin at that location. We barely escaped," Hizashi summarized, tight-lipped.
"Barely?" Orochimaru's lips quirked in a humorless smile, his eyes holding no warmth as they pinned Hizashi.
Hizashi pressed his lips together. Tsuru's bloodline secret… it had to stay hidden if possible.
But well-meaning intentions can backfire.
"Lord Orochimaru! Lord Orochimaru!" A voice cried from the crowd of wounded shinobi tending to each other. The man's face lit up with desperate hope. He stumbled forward and lunged, grabbing Orochimaru's sleeve.
Orochimaru frowned, his cold eyes dropping to the hand clutching his robe. "Yes?"
"Lord Orochimaru, please! You have to save Tsuru! I'm begging you!" The man's eyes were pools of raw pleading. The image of Tsuru, drenched in blood, was seared into his mind. Captain Hizashi's words proved she was gravely injured. Lady Tsunade and Lord Orochimaru were teammates. Surely the Snake Sannin knew some medical ninjutsu!
Hizashi's brow furrowed deeply. He stepped forward, gripping the man's arm firmly. "Lord Orochimaru is in charge of the entire front line! We cannot delay him with Tsuru's personal matter!"
If Orochimaru examined Tsuru, her lack of injuries would be exposed. So would her bloodline. In wartime, being too talented was a death sentence.
The pleading man wrenched his arm free, his eyes filling with fresh tears, voice urgent. "How is it a delay?! Tsuru saved all of us! Without her, we'd be dead!"
Orochimaru smiled. He had his answer.
The strange nature of the Iwa-nin's demise on that battlefield had been obvious to him at a glance. This group of ordinary chūnin? Taking out an Iwa ambush force led by the Tsuchikage's son, Kitsuchi? Impossible.
"Oh?" Orochimaru's gaze locked onto Hizashi, cold and penetrating like a serpent's stare. "It seems Captain Hizashi is withholding information. How could tending to such a hero ever be a 'delay' for me?"
A chill crawled up Hizashi's spine, unbidden.
Orochimaru brushed past him. The pleading shinobi eagerly led the way to the wagon where Tsuru rested. Shisui and Juri exchanged a glance, quickening their pace to arrive first.
Orochimaru's cold eyes appraised the two Uchiha. "Remarkable children," he murmured, a slow smile forming. To maintain such composure and alertness under his killing intent… The Sharingan. Such a tantalizing bloodline.
Tsuru lay still on the wagon, chest rising and falling gently. Her face had been cleaned of blood, revealing delicate, lovely features. Orochimaru had already heard the full story from the guide. His interest was palpable. Making explosive tags vanish, then reappear? A spatial ninjutsu, likely. And most intriguing… surviving the heart of that blast. By all logic, she should be dust.
Orochimaru reached a hand toward Tsuru, the light in his eyes intensifying. He would discover this child's secrets.
"Orochimaru!"
A powerful arm suddenly hooked around Orochimaru's neck from behind, yanking him backward. The snake slithering from his sleeve retreated. He knew that voice.
"Jiraiya."
Orochimaru withdrew his gaze from Tsuru, settling it on the man beside him. Jiraiya wasn't in standard Konoha attire. He wore a red and white short coat, a brilliant, slightly lecherous grin splitting his ordinary face. He kept his arm draped familiarly over Orochimaru's shoulders.
"Orochimaru! Long time no see!"
A flicker of something—amusement?—passed through Orochimaru's eyes. He shrugged off Jiraiya's arm. "You're late."
By the original plan, the Iwa ambush was meant for Jiraiya's earlier-arriving team. Jiraiya's tardiness had thrown Hizashi's group into the fire.
"Ah… well, you see…" Jiraiya scratched his head, looking sheepish. "Overslept!"
"That's not it!" A kunoichi popped out from behind Jiraiya, her expression deeply unimpressed. "Lord Jiraiya got distracted by some… local entertainment at a tavern on the way."
"Ahem!" Jiraiya coughed loudly, changing the subject. His eyes fell on the blood-stained Tsuru in the wagon. He raised an eyebrow. "If it's a little girl, you need a female medic!" He looked at Orochimaru as if he were a total creep, clapping him on the shoulder reproachfully. "Loli-con tendencies? That's really testing the Old Man's limits!"
"…" Orochimaru's eye twitched. He and Jiraiya would never be on the same wavelength.
"Come on, come on!" Jiraiya re-hooked his arm around Orochimaru's neck. "Let's catch up properly!"
He started dragging Orochimaru away. Halfway, he remembered to call over his shoulder to the kunoichi who'd ratted him out. "You handle it, Momona!"
"Honestly!" Momona, the medic-nin, grumbled. Any hero-worship for Jiraiya had long since worn off on the journey. She turned, her expression turning serious as she looked at the blood-soaked girl.
She pulled a white cloth from her pack and hung it over the wagon's entrance. These men were useless. She had to be careful. Such a cute little girl shouldn't be seen undressed by a bunch of smelly guys.
Momona quickly undid Tsuru's clothes, using a damp cloth to gently wipe her down.
"Huh?" Momona was surprised. The clothes were soaked in blood, but the skin beneath was flawless. Someone else's blood, then? Having just arrived with Jiraiya, she didn't know what had happened. So, she didn't question it.
"Just as well she's not hurt," Momona sighed in relief.
Her wiping hand paused. She looked, a bit confused, at the girl's chest. It looked like it had some shape, but felt… disappointingly flat under her fingers. Momona shook her head, feeling like a weirdo herself. She pushed the thought away and swiftly dressed Tsuru in a spare dress from her medical pack.
Shisui and Juri stood guard outside. The white cloth was pulled down from inside. Their eyes followed Momona as she hurried away, her face slightly flushed.
"Uh, she's fine. Don't worry," Momona said quickly before disappearing.
Shisui blinked. Why was the medic blushing?
Seeing Tsuru in clean clothes, both boys finally relaxed. Their own strained nerves needed rest. They leaned against the side of the wagon, closing their eyes.
In Tsuru's mind, a chime sounded.
[Ding! Favorability of Target 'Uchiha Shisui' has reached 95!]
[Ding! Favorability of Target 'Hyūga Hizashi' has reached 90!]
[Ding! Favorability of Target 'Hatake Kakashi' has reached 65!]
[Congratulations, Host. Favorability of Target 'Kakashi' has exceeded 60. The System will commence Skill Allocation.]
[Ding! System detects Host consciousness is inactive. Automatically exchanging for Mental Energy Recovery Potion.]
[Ding! System automatically administering Mental Energy Recovery Potion.]
Tsuru felt like he was floating on a boundless, warm ocean. Gentle currents cradled him, rocking him softly on the surface. Blue water. Starry light. It was incredibly comfortable. His consciousness threatened to melt into the warmth. His whole body relaxed.
"Why isn't Tsuru awake yet?"
"Don't know."
"The medic said she was fine."
"Yeah. But it's already dark."
Familiar voices, mingled with the creak of wagon wheels, slowly filtered into Tsuru's ears. Cool night air occasionally drifted through the small window.
Tsuru's eyes slowly opened.
Above him was the swaying wooden roof of the wagon. Glancing down, a small window framed the darkening sky. Memories trickled back.
Charging into the center of the Iwa-nin. Pouring every last ounce of mental energy into dumping all those explosive tags from his storage space at once. The spatial limit—items could only appear in his hands or immediate vicinity.
But he had the Infinity barrier!
Back then, he'd been impulsive. Wanted to test the storage space's new trick. Wanted to rack up those favorability points. So he'd just… done it.
He hadn't expected his mental energy to bottom out completely, knocking him unconscious at the last second.
"System. Show me the favorability!" Tsuru suppressed his excitement, staying perfectly still.
The blue system screen materialized in his mind. Tsuru clenched his fists tightly under the blanket.
Shisui's at ninety-five!
Kakashi's over sixty!
He couldn't wait to see what skill the System would assign.
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