Morning came as quickly as it possibly could — as if the night had passed in a single blink. It felt like I had only just closed my eyes on the tatami, and already the dawn's rays were seeping through the gaps in the shutters.
I rose; part of me resisted, reluctant to get up, yet my mind felt surprisingly alert. The constant travel and tension had taken their toll — the body had adapted to surviving at its limits. By seven o'clock I was already in the fortress dining hall, holding a wooden tray in my hands.
Now, in the daylight, I could finally take in the fortress and the city itself. At night, everything had seemed a single shadow, outlining only walls, towers, and rooftops. But now, as the first sunbeams touched the stone walls, the city revealed its stark beauty.
The fortress stood right at the edge of a cliff, looming over a chasm that vanished into mist and rocks. Narrow streets wound along the slopes, and houses of gray stone and wood were packed tightly together, creating a sense of crowding. The walls still bore the marks of old battles: cracks, charred patches where fire techniques had struck. And yet, the city lived — smoke rose steadily from chimneys into the sky…
The dining hall was much simpler. Long rows of wooden tables, benches instead of chairs, and the smell of rice, dried fish, and miso. Groups of shinobi gathered, trading rumors, while others ate silently, staring into their bowls.
I took a modest meal: rice, a bit of dried fish, and warm tea. Sitting near the window, I watched the fortress while catching fragments of conversation from nearby tables. In places like this, one learns the most just by listening.
— "How was your shift?" asked a man with a rough voice, settling down at the table behind me. Judging by his flak jacket, he was an experienced shinobi, perhaps a chunin.
— "Quiet," answered a younger voice. "But the rumors aren't good. Kumogakure is gathering reserves near the gorge."
— "Or maybe it's just reconnaissance," added another. "Testing our posts, looking for weak spots."
— "Don't know…" the first lowered his voice. "But they say two of ours didn't come back from patrol yesterday."
I pretended not to listen, picking at my fish.
— "I wonder what command will do. Reinforce the posts?"
— "They'll have to. But there aren't enough men."
And then, suddenly, the tone at a nearby table shifted:
— "So, what about you, huh?" someone teased. "Finally decided to marry that merchant girl from town?"
— "Oh, shut up," another laughed. "Keep quiet or she'll hear you."
I nearly choked on my tea. "Not that…" I thought, realizing not every bit of information here was useful. "Looking for intel, and what I get is local love drama…"
I sipped more tea, still listening, though the talk drifted to gossip, jokes, personal affairs.
Leaning back against the bench, finishing my tea, I noted to myself: "If Kumogakure really is gathering reserves, then they might strike soon." The thought circled in my head as I left the dining hall.
Leaping onto the roof of a nearby house, I began moving toward the wall. With each jump, my thoughts ordered themselves: "Need to check the view, weak spots, see if there are areas without proper watch…"
Within minutes I reached the city wall. It rose about seven or eight meters, enclosing the city. But honestly, for a ninja such defenses were little more than formality. "Even a genin could get past this easily," I thought, placing my palm against the cold stone.
Hop! Channeling chakra into my legs, I soared up without effort. The stone blocks crumbled slightly under my feet but held.
And then — unexpectedly.
— "Hey, what are you doing up there?!" a voice rang out.
I flinched. The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once — left, right, even directly in my ear. I spun around, searching, but saw no one.
"Where…?" I frowned.
— "Answer me!" The voice again, firmer now, with authority.
— "Inspecting the city's surroundings!" I shouted back, forcing confidence into my voice.
— "Get down! You can't climb here!" came the reply.
Again I looked around. No silhouettes, only gray stone and the morning wind.
"Hiding? Or using camouflage technique?" flickered in my mind.
— "Alright!" I called out, though inside I felt irritation. "Don't want to show yourself? Fine. I'll take a look elsewhere anyway."
I dropped back down, landing lightly and sprinted off another way, climbing again—when suddenly:
— "What did I say? Get down!"
I froze.
— "Hey! Are you following me?" I shouted into the emptiness, turning around.
No answer.
A shadow stretched beside mine. Before I could turn, a hand rested gently but firmly on my shoulder.
— "Easy, young man," came a calm, slightly weary voice.
I spun around sharply. Before me stood a man in his forties, maybe older. Plain clothes — a simple shinobi jacket, worn in places, a Konoha forehead protector tilted slightly askew. His face was not stern, but lined, his eyes light and attentive. At first glance, he seemed utterly ordinary, almost unremarkable. Yet his hand… it didn't press down, but somehow reminded me: any wrong move, and I wouldn't even get the chance.
— "Who… are you?" I exhaled, masking my annoyance.
The man smiled faintly, withdrew his hand, and stepped back.
— "Maruboshi. Kosuke Maruboshi. I help keep order here. And you're disrupting it."
The name meant nothing to me. But in his calmness there was something unsettling. Not the oppressive aura of Orochimaru, nor the predator's watchfulness of the ANBU — rather, a warm steadiness, as if this man had already endured everything there was to endure, and now simply observed.
— "And who are you?" he asked more gently. "New here, right?"
— "Kotetsu," I introduced myself. "From the squad sent from the garrison near the Iwa border."
Kosuke nodded.
— "I've heard. They say you had losses on the road. Rough journey…"
I frowned, surprised.
— "How do you know that?"
— "I know many things," he replied, not smugly, but almost casually. "In a place like this, rumors travel faster than wind."
He took a few steps toward the wall, leaned against it, and gazed down into the gorge where morning mist swayed in the distance.
— "If you want, I could assign you to the city guard," Maruboshi said in the same calm tone, as though discussing the weather. "That way you won't have to go out on missions."
— "What?" I stared at him, confused.
The words sounded tempting but far too sudden. Why make such an offer to someone he had just met?
— "It's a good offer, but… why?" I asked cautiously, narrowing my eyes.
Kosuke's expression didn't change, not even at my bluntness.
— "We're short in the guard. Always need eyes and legs at the posts. And you, I noticed, like climbing walls." He smiled slightly at the corner of his mouth, without mockery. "So you'd fit."
— "I'm part of a team," I said thoughtfully. "Can they come too?"
— "No." He shook his head. "Just one. We need exactly one more."
His words were plain, but inside me a tight knot twisted. On one hand, the offer meant safety: guarding the city, away from deadly missions, more chances to learn and observe. Useful, perhaps.
But on the other… leave Guy, Genma? Abandon the team where we were only just beginning to build trust? Everything inside me rebelled.
I drew a deep breath.
— "Thank you for the offer… but I need to stay with my team." I bowed.
Maruboshi studied me for a few seconds, then waved a hand as if it wasn't that important.
— "As you wish," he said. "But remember: such opportunities don't always return."
His voice carried no threat, but deep within lingered the shadow of experience. He knew far more than he let on.
I gave a short nod.
— "I understand."
— "Good," he replied, and turning away, walked down the narrow street toward the houses at the foot of the hill.
The next day, everything changed…