Chapter 8: Departure
Dawn broke over Konoha's gates like a bloodstain across the sky, and Rei couldn't shake the feeling it was an omen. The usual bustle of merchants and travelers felt different today—too many hard eyes scanning faces, too many hands resting casually near weapon pouches. Even the morning air tasted of suspicion and coming violence.
Team Inoichi had assembled in the pre-dawn darkness, their gear checked and rechecked until every kunai placement was muscle memory. As Yamanaka Inoichi had promised, they were departing for the Land of Wind today, though 'promised' felt more like 'threatened' in the cold morning light.
The mission briefing had been brutally simple: infiltrate deep into Wind Country territory and extract intelligence on Sunagakure's current military capabilities. B-rank, the file had said, as if that designation meant anything when you were hundreds of miles behind enemy lines with nowhere to run.
Rei's stomach churned as he recalled the mission details. This wasn't some border skirmish or escort duty—this was the kind of operation that created the memorial stones scattered throughout Konoha's cemetery. During the Second War, Sand Village had bled thousands of their own fighting Konoha forces. The Third Kazekage himself had taken the field, only to watch his village's defeat from the front lines.
The hatred between the villages hadn't cooled with the signing of peace treaties. If anything, it had crystallized into something harder and more bitter than open warfare. Getting caught wouldn't mean a quick death—it would mean interrogation, torture, and whatever remained of them used as a message to other would-be spies.
"Exciting prospects," Rei muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from Inoichi.
Their sensei remained unnaturally calm, as if discussing the weather rather than a mission with a mortality rate that made veteran jonin nervous. Wada Yu and Hanazuki looked like they were attending their own funeral, which might not be far from the truth.
Three days of hard travel brought them to the border between Fire and River Country(Takigakure), where they shed their Konoha identities like snakes molting skin. The transformation into wandering mercenaries felt uncomfortably natural—in this world, there was often little difference between a shinobi and a killer for hire.
River Country sprawled before them, a testament to what happened when greater powers decided your homeland made a convenient battlefield. The legendary Hanzo still controlled this territory, though 'control' was perhaps too generous a term for the iron grip of a man who'd watched his people burn while three major villages played their war games across his borders.
The so-called 'Demigod of the Shinobi World' had originally begged the three great nations to take their conflict elsewhere. When diplomacy failed, he'd declared war on all three simultaneously—a move that spoke either to his desperation or his madness. Probably both.
The memory of that declaration still sent ripples through the political landscape. Hanzo had lost, ultimately, but he'd made the great villages bleed for every inch of his territory. Rain Village might be weaker now, but it was the kind of weakness that came from bearing scars—harder, more dangerous, with nothing left to lose.
"Stay alert," Inoichi warned as they approached Wind Country's border. "From here on, we're merchants selling poison to puppet masters. The goods in your packs are real, the papers are legitimate, and if anyone asks, we've been working this route for two years."
The border inspection went smoother than Rei had expected, which only made him more nervous. The Sand ninja checking their documents was thorough but professional, more interested in their poison samples than their faces. Still, Rei felt those calculating eyes weighing them, memorizing details that might prove useful later.
Wind Country opened before them like a vision of hell—endless stretches of sand and stone baked under a merciless sun that seemed to leach the life from everything it touched. The landscape explained the war better than any political treatise. You could understand why Second War had erupted just by looking at this desolation and imagining trying to feed a village from it.
Seven days of trudging through wind-scoured wasteland brought them to the Wind Country capital, a city that clung to the desert's edge like a desperate prayer. The contrast with Konoha was stark—where the Hidden Leaf sprawled in green abundance, this place hoarded every resource with the careful attention of the perpetually starving.
The poison merchant's shop sat in a district that reeked of desperation and black market dealings. The proprietor examined their wares with the practiced eye of someone who'd learned to distinguish between legitimate product and Konoha-laced death in a bottle. When Inoichi quoted the agreed-upon prices without haggling, the man's manner shifted from suspicious to cautiously welcoming.
"Rest tonight," Inoichi instructed once they'd been shown to their rooms. "We leave for home tomorrow morning."
The speed of the handoff felt wrong somehow, too clean for an operation this deep in hostile territory. Rei found himself studying shadows for moving figures, listening for footsteps that might herald a trap closing around them.
"Sensei, can I look around the city?" The request came out more casually than he felt, but staying cooped up would only make the paranoia worse.
Inoichi considered this, weighing operational security against the value of reconnaissance. "Be careful. And stay in character."
Wada Yu and Hanazuki declined to join him—probably the smart choice, though Rei couldn't stand the thought of sitting still while his nerves frayed. He'd rather face whatever dangers the streets might hold than endure another hour of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The samurai disguise felt natural as he wandered the marketplace, bamboo hat pulled low to shadow his features. The city revealed itself in layers—surface prosperity hiding deeper currents of want and resentment. Iron that cost 300,000 ryo per kilogram in Fire Country commanded 500,000 here, when it could be found at all.
"War's definitely coming," he murmured, watching a blacksmith's eyes light up at the sight of raw metal. This level of resource scarcity made conflict inevitable—Wind Country would have to take what it needed or watch its people slowly starve.
Movement caught his eye across the street. A woman with distinctive green hair moved through the crowd, two golden strands framing a face that belonged on wanted posters rather than marketplace stalls. When she turned, exposing the toned muscles of her back, Rei's blood went cold.
Pakura. Scorch Release user. One of Sunagakure's most dangerous kunoichi.
She disappeared into a building marked with subtle signs that screamed 'intelligence hub' to anyone who knew what to look for. Rei pressed himself against a wall, activating his Sharingan despite the risk of discovery. The tomoe spun lazily as he focused on the building's interior.
"Lord Pakura," came a voice from within. "The traitor has been identified."
"Excellent. Have each team prepare for the operation. We move at one AM sharp. No mistakes."
"Understood."
Two figures flickered away with the speed of seasoned operatives. Rei's enhanced vision caught details that would have been invisible to normal eyes—the precise way they moved, the location of concealed weapons, the subtle hand signals that indicated a coordinated strike force.
His mouth went dry. Someone was about to die tonight, and given the timing, it probably wasn't going to be Sand Village personnel.
Racing back to the safe house, Rei burst through the door to find Inoichi reviewing mission documents. "We have a problem. Pakura's in the city, and she's planning something for tonight."
"Pakura?" Inoichi's face went ashen. "You're certain?"
"Scorch Release user, green hair with gold streaks, in command of what looked like an assassination team. They're moving at one AM."
Before Inoichi could respond, their contact stumbled through the door with another man Rei didn't recognize, both looking like they'd aged a decade in the past hour.
"We need to evacuate immediately," the contact gasped. "We've been compromised."
"What happened?" Inoichi's voice carried the deadly calm of a man calculating survival odds.
"One of our deep cover assets got promoted to ANBU. Standard procedure required a memory scan." The newcomer's face was grim. "They found everything."
Rei felt the world tilt sideways. Everything they'd worked for, every careful preparation, undone by routine security protocols and bad luck. In a few hours, this place would be crawling with hunter-nin, and their chances of reaching the border alive were approaching zero.
"Time to go," Inoichi said with the finality of a death sentence. "Now."
The mission had just become a matter of survival, and Rei couldn't shake the feeling that not all of them would be making the journey home.
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