The ANBU operative codenamed Hawk landed silently on a branch, raising his fist to halt the squad behind him.
"Blood," he said, voice muffled behind his mask. "Fresh. A lot of it."
Rabbit nodded as she sniffed the air. "Multiple sources. This way."
They moved through the trees with silent ease, following the scent until they reached a small clearing. What they found made even the veteran ANBU pause.
Five bodies, sprawled across blood-soaked ground. Lightning scorches marked several trees, and deep gouges scarred the earth where powerful jutsu had torn through the landscape.
"Kumo," Hawk said, kneeling beside the nearest body. The skin was a rich brown, and the sharp, angular facial features were distinctive – hallmarks of Kumogakure ninja. He checked for identification but found nothing.
Rabbit moved to the jonin's corpse, examining the severed arm and the deep wound across his throat. "Whoever did this was skilled. Very skilled."
"Five against one, by the looks of it," said Owl, the third member of their team. He gestured at the blood trails. "Our guy was injured but walked away. They... didn't."
Hawk frowned behind his mask. "No headbands. No identification. Black ops."
"In our territory," Rabbit added, voice tight.
Hawk stood, studying the scene one more time. "Owl, secure the perimeter. Rabbit, prep the bodies for transport. I'm reporting to Hokage-sama."
His hands flashed through seals, and a small messenger bird appeared in a puff of smoke. He scribbled a brief note, attached it to the bird's leg, and sent it into the air.
…
The transformation jutsu took more chakra than I could really spare, but walking through the village covered in half-healed wounds would've raised too many questions. So, old man it was – bent spine, wispy white beard, and a convenient limp that matched the very real one I was trying to hide.
'Just a harmless grandpa,' I thought, shuffling through the eastern district. 'Nothing to see here, definitely didn't just murder five foreign ninjas.'
The guards barely glanced at me. Perfect. I kept my head down, muttering about "kids these days" whenever anyone passed too close. The act would've been funny if each step didn't feel like getting stabbed all over again.
I caught snippets of conversation as I passed the market district.
"—Patrol everywhere—"
"—something big must've happened—"
"—extra patrols on the streets—"
Well, crap. News traveled fast.
By the time I reached my apartment building, sweat was pouring down my disguised face. The soldier pill was wearing off, and the pain was coming back full force. I dragged myself up three flights of stairs – a special kind of torture with a bum leg – and fumbled with my keys at the door.
Once inside with the door firmly locked, I finally released the transformation jutsu with a sigh of relief. Home sweet home. I'd never been so happy to see my dirty apartment.
I stripped off the makeshift bandages in the bathroom, wincing at the mess underneath. The cuts looked angry and red, though at least they'd stopped bleeding. My ribs were turning an impressive shade of purple.
"Beautiful," I muttered, rummaging through my first aid supplies. I cleaned each wound properly this time, gritting my teeth against the pain.
The jonin's final words kept echoing in my mind as I worked.
—"We bought them... enough time."
I considered this as I cleaned the gash across my collarbone. What did he mean? If they were after Kushina – and I was certain they were – then why talk about buying time? Unless...
I tied off a fresh bandage around my thigh, still pondering. If the five I'd killed were meant as a distraction, that suggested something bigger was happening. Maybe they were waiting for reinforcements? Or more likely, they weren't the main team at all.
Slowly, the pieces started coming together. The way they'd been watching Kushina. The jonin's final words. Their willingness to die rather than be captured.
"Damn it," I hissed, pressing a cold compress against my ribs.
I limped to the kitchen, mixing a blend of painkillers from Yukiko-san's herb shop. The bitter taste made me gag, but within minutes, a blessed numbness spread through my body.
With slightly steadier hands, I changed into fresh clothes, choosing a high-collared shirt that would hide the bandages around my collarbone. My pants had a small bloodstain on the thigh, but it was dark enough that most people wouldn't notice.
Sitting on my bed, I pulled out the tanto I'd taken from the Kumo-nin. The blade was good quality – not legendary weapon, but definitely better than standard issue. I wiped it down with oil, inspecting the edge where it had chipped against the jonin's kunai.
As I polished the blade, my mind kept circling back to the same thought: There were more Kumo-nin out there, and they were after Kushina.
My head throbbed as I weighed my options. Chasing after them alone? With my busted ribs and barely enough chakra to keep standing? Pure suicide. And every minute I wasted, Kushina faced worse danger.
I needed Konoha's elite squads on this fast. But how was I to get them mobilized without revealing my involvement? I needed a way to point them toward the second team without directly implicating myself.
I considered planting evidence, but ANBU would have already collected the bodies. An anonymous tip would be too suspicious given the timing. I stared at the gleaming tanto in my hands, thinking. Then it hit me – the simplest solution was often the best.
Rumors.
Konoha ran on gossip like a mill ran on water. Drop the right words in the right ears, and ANBU would have their leads within hours. I'd head to the market district, strike up a few conversations about suspicious folks hanging around that red-haired Uzumaki girl, and let Konoha's rumor mill do the rest.
By tomorrow, ANBU would be all over any Kumo-nin still in the village, and I wouldn't have to lift a finger.
"The things I do for this village," I muttered, pocketing a soldier pill for the chakra boost I'd need. Time to go spread some gossip.
…
I'd never fully appreciated how bored housewives were the true intelligence network of Konoha until today. One whisper in the right ear, and the whole village would know your business before lunch.
Exactly what I was counting on.
I hobbled up to the first fruit stand, eyeing some apples with exaggerated suspicion.
"Highway robbery, that's what these prices are," I croaked, loud enough for nearby shoppers to hear. The fruit vendor, a round-faced woman in her forties, rolled her eyes.
"If you don't like my prices, Jii-san, there are other stands," she said.
I leaned in conspiratorially. "It's not just your prices that are troubling. Did you see those suspicious men hanging around the market yesterday? Strange fellows, not from around here."
That got her attention. "What suspicious men?"
"The ones watching that Uzumaki girl," I said, keeping my voice in the perfect mix of concerned and gossipy. "Following her everywhere. Gave me the creeps. Bad enough we've got foreigners lurking about, but when they start stalking our young kunoichi..."
The vendor's eyes widened. "Really? The Uzumaki girl?"
I nodded gravely. "Such distinctive hair. Makes her an easy target, poor thing."
Two women browsing nearby had stopped to listen. Perfect.
"I heard someone mention strange men around the Academy, too," I added, then hobbled away before anyone could ask questions.
By the time I reached the third stall, I didn't even have to bring it up. The housewives were already telling their fellow shoppers about "those foreign creeps stalking that poor Uzumaki girl." I hid my smile behind a fake cough. The Konoha rumor mill was truly a thing of beauty.
I made my way through the market, stopping at several more stalls. Each time, I'd drop another crumb: "watching her for days," "following her home," "women's underwear in their pockets," "speaking with strange accents." By my fifth stop, people were already telling me the rumors I'd started thirty minutes earlier, now with added details I hadn't even invented.
"They're from Kumo, I heard," a vegetable seller whispered to me as I examined some eggplants.
"Really?" I gasped in my old man voice.
"Yes, and there's at least ten of them!"
Ten? I almost laughed.
"Someone should alert the authorities," I said, nodding with exaggerated concern.
"Oh, they already have," he assured me, tapping his nose. "My cousin's wife's brother is on duty, and he says ANBU is investigating right now."
I smacked his shoulder in approval and shuffled away, biting back a grin. The rumor mill was turning perfectly—and I hadn't even finished my morning sake.
…
The best dango shop in Konoha sat at the edge of the market district, a tiny, steam-filled place where the seats were worn smooth from decades of customers. I released my transformation jutsu in an alley nearby, grimacing as the pain in my leg came back full force without the distraction of maintaining the disguise.
I limped into the shop, the genuine limp now, and inhaled deeply. Sweet, savory, and starchy aromas filled the air. Heaven.
"Shinji-kun! Haven't seen you in a while," called Hanako-san, the shop's elderly owner. Her wrinkled face creased into a smile.
"Been busy with Academy stuff," I said, easing myself onto a stool at the counter. "The usual, please."
She nodded and skewered several dango balls, dropping them into bubbling oil.
"You look tired," she observed.
I grinned. "Just stayed up late working on a report."
'And definitely not from killing five kumo-nin in the forest,' I added silently.
The first bite of dango was... look, I'm not a poetic guy, but if there's anything worth writing bad poetry about, it's Hanako-san's dango. The exterior was perfectly crisp, giving way to a chewy, sweet interior that melted on my tongue. I closed my eyes, momentarily forgetting about my injuries, the Kumo-nin, and even Kushina.
"Good?" Hanako-san asked, already knowing the answer.
"Mmph," I replied eloquently, mouth full.
Through the shop's open front, I had a perfect view of the market. As I chewed my second skewer, I noticed a pair of chunin moving through the stalls, stopping to talk with vendors. They weren't being subtle about it either.
'That was fast,' I thought, sipping my tea.
I watched as they spoke with the fruit vendor I'd first approached. She gestured animatedly, pointing in various directions. The chunin nodded, taking notes. Similar scenes played out across the market, with civilians eagerly sharing what they "knew."
Relief washed over me like a cool wave. With the village security on alert, any remaining Kumo-nin would find it much harder to make a move on Kushina. Maybe impossible, if they were as outnumbered as the dying jonin's words had suggested.
'Like looking for a needle in a haystack,' I mused, watching the chunin hurry from stall to stall. Searching for infiltrators in a village this size would have been impossible for me alone, especially in my current state. But now I had Konoha's entire security apparatus doing it for me.
I finished my tea, paid Hanako-san, and grabbed a final skewer of dango for the road. My leg still hurt like hell, but the food had restored some of my energy.
"Take care, Shinji-kun," Hanako-san called as I left. "Don't study too hard!"
I waved, sticking the last dango skewer in my mouth. The sweet flavor was almost worth the pain of walking home.
…
Back in my apartment, I finally let myself collapse. My makeshift bandages needed changing again, and my body felt like one giant bruise. But at least my plan was working.
I dragged myself to the shower, cleaned my wounds again, and put on fresh bandages. Then I settled at my small desk with a bottle of sake and the blank report I was supposed to be writing as punishment for the Academy forest exercise.
"Two full pages on what I learned from the test," I muttered, uncorking the sake. "What I learned is that I should've stayed in bed that day."
I sipped directly from the bottle, glancing out my window at the village below. From this height, I could see the Hokage Tower, the Academy, and even the edge of the forest where I'd fought the Kumo-nin. Hard to believe that was just hours ago.
The paper in front of me remained stubbornly blank as I tried to focus on writing my report instead of wondering if ANBU had found the bodies yet, or if Kushina was safe, or how many more Kumo-nin might be in the village.
I was halfway through the sake bottle when a soft tap at my window made me jump. I nearly drew a kunai before recognizing the familiar silhouette.
"It's open," I called, not bothering to get up.
Minato slid the window open and hopped into my apartment with that sunny smile that made me want to trip him sometimes. He looked disgustingly healthy and uninjured.
"Working hard?" he asked, eyeing my blank paper and the sake bottle.
"Diligently," I replied, taking another swig.
He held up a book. "Thought you might want to see this. It's a new taijutsu book I got from a senior shinobi."
"Another gift from your mystery mentor?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Minato nodded enthusiastically. "He has connections to so many rare books and scrolls. This one's from the eastern provinces."
I made a noncommittal grunt and took another swig of sake, pushing down the weird annoyance I felt whenever Minato mentioned his anonymous benefactor. Not that I cared who it was. Definitely not.
"Anyway," I said, "finished your punishment report yet? I bet yours is perfect already."
Minato laughed and opened his book on my table. "Almost done. Just adding some observations about the tactical implications of terrain advantage."
"Of course you are," I muttered. Leave it to Minato to turn a punishment into an academic exercise. The guy probably color-coded his grocery lists.
As Minato launched into a detailed explanation of the new taijutsu form, I remembered the container of leftover food in my fridge. I'd made too much nikujaga last night, partly because cooking took my mind off things.
"Hey," I interrupted Minato mid-sentence about chakra flow patterns, "you eaten yet? I've got some leftover nikujaga in the fridge."
"You cooked?" Minato perked up. My cooking had become something of a legend among our small friend group.
"Don't sound so surprised," I said, dragging myself to my feet and limping to the fridge. I moved carefully, hoping Minato wouldn't notice the stiffness in my movements. "Some of us have actual hobby beyond throwing kunai."
I pulled out the container and set it on the counter, grateful that at least my arms weren't as badly injured as my leg.
…
Hokage Tower
Hiruzen Sarutobi's office was rarely this crowded. The Hokage himself sat behind his desk, pipe forgotten in his hand as he studied the photographs spread before him. Around him stood his most trusted advisors – Danzo Shimura, Koharu Utatane, and Homura Mitokado – along with the heads of Intelligence and ANBU.
"Four remain unidentified in our databases," Homura said. "But their chakra patterns suggest chunin-level operatives."
Danzo leaned forward, his single eye narrowing. "And the fifth?"
"Naoki Yotsuki, sir. Chunin from Kumo's infiltration division." The ANBU tapped the photo. "I personally observed him three years ago during the joint chunin exams in Iron Country. He showed exceptional talent for lightning manipulation and stealth."
Hiruzen's eyebrows rose. "I recall the name…"
"Yes, sir. While not quite reaching prodigy status, he was marked in our bingo book as 'observe with caution.' Our analysts estimated he'd reach jonin within another year or so. He was considered for their ANBU equivalent before the exams concluded."
"Classic black ops," Danzo said flatly. "The question is, who was their target?"
The ANBU commander, face hidden behind his mask, pointed to one of the photos. "They were killed on the outskirts of the eastern forest. They had already infiltrated our territory and had been inside Konoha itself based on the tracking evidence."
"How did they get past our barrier?" Koharu demanded, turning to the Barrier Team captain who stood uncomfortably in the corner.
The captain swallowed. "We're still investigating, Koharu-sama. No breach was detected in the sensory barrier. They either had a method to mask their chakra signatures completely or—"
"Or we have a traitor," Danzo finished coldly.
Hiruzen raised a hand. "Let's not jump to conclusions. The barrier isn't infallible." He fixed the captain with a stern gaze. "I want your team on this around the clock. Find the vulnerability they exploited."
"Hai, Hokage-sama," the captain bowed deeply.
"And whoever their target was apparently had the skill to eliminate all five chunin," Hiruzen continued.
"We should consider the possibility this was the work of multiple defenders," Homura suggested.
"No," the ANBU commander shook his head. "The blood trails, the fight pattern – this was one person. Highly skilled in taijutsu and kenjutsu, based on the wound patterns. Possibly with some lightning affinity, though it's hard to tell which scorches were from the defender and which from the Kumo-nin."
"One person," Hiruzen repeated, tapping his pipe against his desk. "Who would Kumo target that could eliminate five of their operatives?"
The room fell silent as each person ran through the possibilities.
"Increase patrols," Hiruzen finally ordered. "Double the guards on the village perimeter. I want eyes on every foreign citizen currently in Konoha, diplomatic credentials or not. And find me whoever did this. I need to know if we're dealing with a Konoha-nin... or another problem."
As the room fell silent, processing his orders, a soft knock on the door broke the tension. An aide stepped in, bowing apologetically before handing Hiruzen a thin folder marked with a priority seal. The Hokage's expression tensed as he skimmed the contents, then placed the new reports next to the Kumo investigation photos on his desk.
"It seems we have more than one fire to put out today," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What is it?" Koharu asked, leaning forward to get a better look.
Hiruzen gestured to the new documents. "Reports of escalating tensions in the Nagare Valley along our border with the Land of Rivers. Apparently, there have been confrontations between our settlers and their farmers over water rights."
Danzo's expression remained neutral, but something flickered in his visible eye. "The timing is... unfortunate."
"Three incidents in the past week alone," Hiruzen continued, scanning the report. "A Konoha outpost commander claims River country citizens diverted water from the main channel. Our settlers retaliated by removing their dams. Then someone burned a storage barn."
"The Nagare Valley has always been contested," Homura noted, adjusting his glasses. "But the Land of Rivers lacks the military strength to challenge us directly."
Danzo cleared his throat. "My sources indicate they've been courting alliances with smaller nations. Perhaps even seeking Kumo's support."
Homura asked, "You think there's a connection between these dead Kumo operatives and the border dispute?"
Danzo shrugged slightly. "Five elite Kumo ninja don't infiltrate our village for a casual visit. We should consider all possibilities."
"That's quite the leap," Hiruzen said, eyeing his old friend skeptically. "The Land of Rivers has traditionally maintained neutrality, especially after the last war."
"Neutrality is an illusion that weak nations can't afford anymore," Danzo countered. "The valley contains some of the most fertile soil in the region. River country's economy would collapse without those farms."
"And what would you suggest?" Koharu asked, her tone making it clear she already knew the answer.
"A show of strength," Danzo replied immediately. "Reinforce our outposts in the valley. A squad of ANBU should be enough to discourage further... incidents."
Hiruzen puffed his pipe, creating a cloud of smoke that briefly obscured his face. "And potentially provoke an international incident when we're already dealing with Kumo infiltrators? I think not."
"With respect, Hiruzen," Danzo's voice carried an edge, "hesitation now could be interpreted as weakness. If there is a connection between Kumo's actions and this border dispute, we need to demonstrate that Konoha will protect its interests."
The room fell silent as Hiruzen continued smoking, his eyes never leaving Danzo's face.
"I sometimes wonder," Hiruzen finally said, "how convenient these border incidents always seem to be for those who advocate expansion."
Danzo didn't flinch. "I advocate for Konoha's security. Nothing more."
The ANBU commander shifted uncomfortably, while Homura and Koharu exchanged glances.
"We'll send a diplomatic envoy," Hiruzen decided. "And increase regular patrols – not ANBU – in the valley. I want information before escalation."
"And the Kumo infiltrators?" Homura asked, clearly relieved to change the subject.
"That remains our priority," Hiruzen said firmly. "Whoever their target was, they're likely still in danger. ANBU will continue investigating who killed these operatives. I want to know if we're dealing with a rogue element or a Konoha shinobi acting outside the chain of command."
"And if it's the latter?" Danzo asked.
Hiruzen's expression hardened. "Then that individual has some explaining to do."
Before anyone could respond, another knock came at the door. A different aide hurried in, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Apologies for the interruption, Hokage-sama," he bowed deeply. "We've received multiple reports from the market district. Apparently, there are rumors circulating about suspicious men watching Uzumaki Kushina. Several vendors mentioned seeing foreigners following her yesterday and today."
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed sharply. "The Uzumaki girl?"
"Yes, sir. Three different civilians reported it independently. They described men with darker complexions who seemed unusually interested in her movements."
Danzo and Hiruzen exchanged a meaningful glance.
"It appears we may have found our Kumo operatives' target," Danzo said quietly.
Hiruzen stood abruptly. "Double the ANBU patrol around the Uzumaki residence. Discreetly. I want surveillance on Kushina immediately, but don't alarm her."
The meeting adjourned, but Danzo lingered, staring at the photos of the dead Kumo-nin. His visible eye narrowed as he studied how clean the killing strikes were. This was the work of someone with elite training – someone who should be on his radar but wasn't.
An unknown variable. A wild card.
Danzo despised wild cards.
"Something troubling you, Danzo?" Hiruzen asked, noticing his old friend hadn't left.
"Five elite operatives," Danzo said, tapping one of the photos. "Killed by someone skilled enough to eliminate them all, yet humble enough – or perhaps cunning enough – not to claim credit." His jaw tightened slightly. "I don't like unknowns in my village."
"Our village," Hiruzen corrected mildly.
Danzo didn't acknowledge the correction. "Whoever did this possesses exceptional skills." His eye narrowed. "There was also that storage fire in the eastern district minutes before these killings - too convenient to be coincidence. It forced my operatives to alter their patrol routes, leaving a critical surveillance gap. A calculated distraction."
He tapped one of the photos with a bandaged finger. "No Konoha-nin has reported engagement with enemy operatives. I suspect we're dealing with a foreign agent operating in our territory without our knowledge." His voice lowered. "One who clearly has their own grievances with Kumo. Perhaps a Stone or Mist operative settling old war scores or conflict of interest."
Hiruzen sighed. "I'll let ANBU handle the investigation."
"Of course," Danzo nodded, turning to leave. "But I'll conduct my own inquiries as well."
After Danzo left, Hiruzen sank back into his chair and rubbed his temples. He picked up his pipe again, lighting it and taking a long draw. The smoke floated up as he gazed at the photos of the dead Kumo-nin.