Silence.
The oppressive type—unbearable and suffocating that hung in the air like thick fog, blanketing the chamber in an almost palpable weight. The Mizukage's features were drawn tight in concentration, his brow furrowed in what seemed to be a combination of frustration and confusion.
Not a single word was spoken as they all shared in the tension of the moment. The only sound was the occasional creaking of the floorboards beneath their feet, a reminder that even this heavy stillness was fragile, and could shatter with the smallest disturbance.
And then, breaking the silence with a question that hung in the air like a stone thrown into a still pond, Ayame spoke.
"What is he doing?"
Her voice was rough, low, and filled with a deep confusion that seemed to match the uncertainty that had taken root in all of them. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of something much greater—an unspoken realization that something was wrong, something was not going according to plan. She wasn't speaking to the Mizukage or the Jurou, but to the figure a few meters away in the distance.
Renjiro—the red-haired Konoha shinobi—was standing motionless, his eyes fixed on the legendary sword, Samehada, that lay before him. The massive blade, covered in scales and exuding an aura of cold, lethal energy, seemed to hum in the stillness of the room, as though it too was aware of the tense standoff taking place. Renjiro's gaze was unwavering, studying the blade with an intensity that was almost predatory. But what concerned the two jinchūriki, and the Mizukage, wasn't just Renjiro's odd fixation on the sword—it was the figure in front of him.
Suspended by black wires in a crucified position, a bloodied figure hung in the air, motionless. His body was battered, torn, and barely recognizable beneath the red stains of his own blood. The figure didn't move, not even when the air around them seemed to pulse with a silent energy. The only sign of life was the occasional rise and fall of his chest as he drew slow, shallow breaths.
Ayame wasn't asking out of curiosity anymore. There was something else behind it—something darker. A chill prickled across her skin, not from the mist but from the sight before her. Renjiro had faced off against three of the Mist's legendary swordsmen… and emerged unscathed.
No—unimpressed.
He didn't even acknowledge the victory. No celebration, no taunts, no signs of exhaustion. Instead, he stood in contemplative silence, his hand hovering over Samehada, as if he had expected to win. As if this entire display had been for them—a calculated message wrapped in blood and smoke.
The Three-Tails' Jinchūriki took a small step back without realizing it.
'This boy…' she thought. 'He's not just strong. He's dangerous in ways that don't make sense. He didn't overpower them with brute force—he dissected them. Strategically. That fight… wasn't even the point to him.'
Ayame slowly turned her gaze to the Mizukage.
"…He scares me," she admitted in a whisper. "This is someone Konoha raised? How many more like him are waiting in the dark?"
The Mizukage didn't respond.
Because the same thought was racing through his mind. There was something insidious in the way the Konoha shinobi moved, something that made his skin crawl. The Mizukage couldn't help but think that perhaps Renjiro was more dangerous than he had anticipated.
'We never saw his full power. Not even close. He's still studying the sword. Like this was all… an experiment.'
Renjiro's eyes never left the sword. His head tilted slightly as if listening to something far away. The sword vibrated subtly—hungrily—and the red-haired shinobi's chakra pulsed in response, neither resisting nor accepting the blade. Simply… understanding it.
Renjiro's mind was a whirlwind, though outwardly he appeared as unmoving as a statue.
'It's not just a sword. It's a creature… bred for war, forged in hatred. Alive. The chakra threads are complex—woven like muscle and tendon. This isn't craftsmanship. It's biology. It's an evolution. A tool designed to feast.
It wants me.
No… it wants to test me.'
He could feel the Samehada's awareness grazing the edge of his senses. Not intelligent in a human way, but instinctual—predatory.
Back in the tower, Juro, the Six-Tails' Jinchūriki, finally stepped forward, his breath ragged with chakra. "Mizukage-sama, we can't let this continue. He's not admiring the sword—he's studying it. Analyzing. And those three over there—Kiba, Nuibari, and Samehada—those are our secrets. Passed down by blood and oath. We must stop him before he—"
A voice interrupted him.
"There's no need."
The voice came from behind them—clear, calm, and horrifyingly close.
They turned simultaneously.
Renjiro stood there. Inside the cabin. No footsteps. No sound of a door opening. No warning.
He wore the same blue-and-green flak jacket he had in the field, a few scuffs of dried blood across the fabric but no injury on his body. His red hair was slightly tousled, and his eyes—those deep, focused eyes—were watching them the way a hawk watches prey below. Not with malice, but with impersonal detachment.
Jurou's heart skipped. 'Wait—what the hell—' He turned back toward the window, where Renjiro had been standing moments ago. Smoke—faint and curling—rose from the place where Samehada had been embedded in the ground.
But Renjiro was no longer there.
'…Was that a shadow clone?' he wondered, shaken. 'No… I didn't even sense the real one move.'
Renjiro inclined his head, his tone casual. "I was curious. About your swords. Your culture of blade and blood. It's… fascinating."
The Mizukage didn't speak. Not yet. His pride boiled beneath the surface, but even he—seasoned and cold-blooded—was measuring every word.
Jurou stepped forward, barely restraining himself. "You think you can just waltz in here, study our most sacred weapons, and walk out like this was some research mission?"
Renjiro blinked once as if the question was rhetorical. "I didn't think. I knew."
Ayame flinched.
The Mizukage finally stepped forward, his voice low and icy. "You knew this was a trap."
Renjiro offered a faint smile.
Silence fell again, heavier than before.
"I didn't come here to steal anything," Renjiro continued, his voice calm. "But I did come to learn. And you showed me more than I hoped for."
With a slow, deliberate movement, he placed his hands together and bowed—a perfect, elegant bow.
"Thank you, Mizukage-sama," he said smoothly, his voice low and steady. "I was thoroughly entertained. Kirigakure's hospitality is… legendary. I appreciate the opportunity to study your craftsmanship."
Hiroshi's mouth twitched in a restrained snarl.
"I have other matters to attend to so I will take my leave," Renjiro added
Renjiro vanished.
Poof!
A thick cloud of smoke burst outward, engulfing the spot where he stood. By the time it cleared, only the mist remained.
Jurō took a step forward. "He left? Just like that?"
The Mizukage's gaze returned to the field outside.
"We underestimated him," the Mizukage muttered.
Jurou said nothing. Ayame didn't dare speak.
=====
Elsewhere.
The floating islands in the sky were wrapped in silence far more profound than the one in the clearing below. Here, among stone platforms suspended in the air by unseen forces, the clouds drifted lazily through shafts of sunlight and gravity held no dominion.
Renjiro slowly opened his eyes.
He sat cross-legged atop one of the floating stones. Around him, chakra flowed unnaturally, bending space and weight in a way that defied even shinobi logic.
He exhaled slowly, letting the experience of the day fade like heat from his skin.
"The swords…" he murmured. "They weren't just forged. They were grown."
He turned his head.
Beside him was his staff—his Bō. Smooth, unassuming, but heavy with seals and latent potential. It had seen battle. It had broken through barriers. But now, compared to what he had just seen…
Renjiro tilted his head, curious.
"Maybe," he said to no one in particular, "it's time I made a few adjustments."
His fingers grazed the staff's length, and chakra rippled in response.
=====
Bless me with your powerful Power Stones.
Your Reviews and Comments about my work are welcomed
If you can, then please support me on Patreon.
Link - www.patreon.com/SideCharacter
You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon.