The passenger ship surged across the waves, cutting a path through the endless sea toward the Land of Water.
In the dim cabin, the four members of the unit huddled around a makeshift map spread across a wooden table, their conversation low and serious.
"There's still one more day until we reach the coast of the Water Country," Kakashi said, his fingers tracing the hand-drawn routes. "Once we dock, we'll split up and operate independently. Prioritize discretion. Do not expose your identities under any circumstances. Our first objective is to gather intel in Ningshui City. Blend in—curiosity about the city is natural, but curiosity about Kirigakure is not."
The other three nodded, expressions solemn as they listened.
Kakashi scanned each of them before continuing. "No matter what you uncover, we regroup here every day."
He tapped the map, pointing to a hill marked "An Yueshan," located a short distance from Ningshui City.
"If you encounter danger, send a flare signal immediately. I'll respond as fast as possible. If you see a signal, retreat immediately. Prioritize survival."
The group exchanged surprised glances before Xiyan spoke up. "Yin… that doesn't feel right. We should face danger together."
Kakashi shook his head. "I can handle myself. If I'm caught in something heavy, I have backup plans. And if I disappear, my ninken can track each of you. Just trust me."
With a reluctant nod, the others agreed. Kakashi, as captain, had final say.
Ningshui City, a key coastal hub of the Land of Water, thrived on its overseas trade. Its docks were packed with imports and exports, and the streets buzzed with activity. Amid this vibrant chaos, information flowed like water—abundant but murky. Separating truth from rumor would require sharp instincts.
After several uneventful days at sea, the group finally disembarked at the bustling harbor of Ningshui City.
Though the oldest, Kakashi, was only seventeen, the others—Shisui, Tenzo, and Xiyan—were just twelve or thirteen. Their youthful appearance made them seem like wandering orphans, a common sight in postwar times.
"I've never seen anything like this before," Shisui murmured in awe.
Growing up in the Land of Fire, surrounded by forest rather than sea, Shisui had never encountered a coastal city like this.
Xiyan and Tenzo shared his wonder, while Kakashi, a seasoned traveler from years of Anbu service, viewed the scenery with calm detachment. He had seen more dazzling cities—and more devastated war zones.
"Alright," he said, "we're not here to sightsee. Move out."
"Yes," they replied.
The four quickly separated in a narrow alley, heading in different directions to gather intel.
Ningshui was vast and densely packed, so dividing the search into four sectors gave them the best chance of collecting broad, accurate information.
Dressed in dark civilian clothes, Kakashi moved quietly through the Eastern District.
There was no urgency. Years in Anbu had drilled into him the importance of patience. Rushing into unfamiliar territory was a recipe for disaster. By keeping his composure, Kakashi avoided drawing attention.
He silently observed the flow of everyday life. Nothing seemed off—no excessive patrols, no forced silence among the people. That was a good sign. It meant Ningshui City, at least on the surface, operated normally. No immediate signs of a military trap.
In the shinobi world, not all cities were what they seemed.
After careful observation, Kakashi concluded the city wasn't under tight surveillance. The central authority—likely the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura—must've focused its control on Kirigakure itself, especially given the internal purges under the Blood Mist Policy.
The manpower to maintain control here likely didn't exist.
Kakashi turned into a small tavern, the scent of grilled fish and fermented rice heavy in the air.
Though technically underage, his mature appearance and confident presence allowed him to order sake without question.
He sipped slowly. Years of drinking in his past life dulled the bite of the light liquor. It was more for show than indulgence.
He slouched in his seat, appearing half-dazed, while in truth his chakra perception extended through the building. Every conversation, every whisper, reached him. But most chatter was meaningless—boasts, gossip, and drunken rambling.
After an hour of dull noise, Kakashi was about to move on when a conversation between two middle-aged men piqued his interest.
"Yamamoto, any idea what's going on with Kirigakure? They haven't taken any missions in weeks. I've got a whole shipment for the Land of Fire just sitting there."
"Forget it, Yamabuki. Ever since the Fourth Mizukage took over, it's been chaos. Bloodline hunts, assassinations... they say the village is drowning in blood. It's no longer Hidden Mist—it's the Blood Mist now."
"The Fourth's policies are insane. They're wiping out their own bloodline clans. Those poor families live in fear—one wrong move and they're erased."
"Back in the day, Kirigakure had real powerhouses. Remember the Mizukuri clan? Not a trace of them left now. All executed under Yagura's rule."
"At this rate, how can the Land of Water defend itself if war breaks out again?"
Yamamoto leaned closer and whispered, "I heard a rogue ninja, Zabuza Momochi, tried to assassinate the Mizukage recently. Failed, obviously. Now he's on the run."
"What? Someone actually tried to kill the Mizukage?"
"Keep your voice down! That's top-secret. I only know because my cousin in the village let it slip—after a few drinks."
"Heh, I didn't know your cousin was so well-connected."
"You'd be surprised."
The two returned to mundane chatter, but Kakashi's mind was racing.
So that's why Kirigakure feels so unstable…
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