Time skip — a while later.
The day passed like a shadow crawling through fog.
Choza—Ox—sat in the back of a food stand selling ration ingredients: dehydrated noodles, seaweed strips, and powdered broth. It wasn't glamorous, but it kept him covered. His merchant act was solid. Jokes. Laughter. The occasional grumble about taxes. All good camouflage.
Plus, he was a foodie, so selling food came naturally to him. He didn't even have to act. His clan owned one of the biggest restaurants in Konoha.
He could do this.
Inoichi—Whisper—operated a stall that sold inks, seals, and paper bomb scrolls. Many shinobi passed through to inspect the goods. He logged every voice, chakra pattern, and subtle gesture. He documented who came in and who went out, alongside what they brought with them.
Shikaku—Deer—posed as a merchant-mathematician, selling tactical maps and terrain scrolls, of course. No one questioned the lazy-looking merchant who played Shogi against himself.
They were in place. Their cover identities held strong.
—
Seijuro and the others were also there, apparently doing their job—well, the ones currently there were shadow clones.
The real Seijuro was somewhere else altogether right now.
POV change – Rooftop
Seijuro crouched on a curved rooftop, one leg pulled to his chest. His eyes traced movement across the Mist's barracks and patrol posts.
Below him, Eagle—Hikaru Hyūga—watched quietly, his Byakugan active. The veins near his eyes bulged lightly as he murmured:
"Fourteen guards on rotation every hour. One ANBU squad in the southwest barracks. Patrols mostly focus along the river and embassy gates."
Seijuro nodded. "And the Tailed Beasts?"
Hikaru's gaze narrowed. "No Jinchūriki present. Six-Tails and Three-Tails aren't inside the city limits. Most likely stored in secure bunkers."
From the alley, Moth emerged. Shiran, the Aburame, dusted his coat off.
"I released Type-4 tracking beetles near the western towers. So far, no signs of sealing operations. But the underground cells contain chakra suppressors. Probably interrogation centers."
Seijuro folded his arms.
"So... they're not hosting Jinchūriki. That's good. If we can either fake an attack on their headquarters and act like we're stealing their scroll, or unleash their beast on them, this would work just fine," he said with a thoughtful look on his face.
Either of those plans could work. So now, he was just waiting on something. He needed to time this shit perfectly—he didn't want to mess up and have his whole squad returned dead.
So, better plan this shit... carefully.
For now, observation was key. They still had time.
—
POV Shift – Mizukage's Office – Third Mizukage POV
The old man sat behind his desk, a cold cup of tea untouched.
His eye twitched as another scroll was brought to him. Another vague report. Another rumor.
"Konoha shinobi are within the village."
Of course they were. Just like the rats in the sewer and the ghosts in the mist. But this time, the evidence felt sharper. He could smell it in the wind.
He rose from his seat, dragging the blade from its rack and pointing it toward the ceiling.
"Issue a general alert. Level 2 readiness. Triple the checks in the civilian districts. No one leaves. No one enters. And bring me Suikazan. I want a shadow patrol by morning."
The Mist... would bleed, before it bowed.
The ANBU who had brought the news simply bowed to the Kage before saying:
"As you command."
Then left the Kage building, returning to his duty.
—
POV Shift – Nightfall – Hotel Safehouse, Civilian District
The soft hum of insects buzzed outside the inn, blending into the quiet rhythm of the misty village.
The candlelight flickered gently in the modest room. One window remained cracked open.
Deliberate.
They were being watched.
Seijuro sat cross-legged by the low table, calmly inspecting an old ledger book. Shikaku (Deer) lay sprawled beside a small Shogi board, occasionally moving pieces. Inoichi (Whisper) held a bottle of sake lazily between his fingers while flipping through a raunchy travel brochure. Choza (Ox) sat near the open scrolls, playing with rice grains between his fingers.
Their tone? Lazy. Casual.
Their content?
Coded.
Every third word—spoken with seemingly absent-minded delivery—was part of the real message.
Choza:
"Well, supplies are running low. Might need to sell more fast, or we'll need an early trip home. Don't wanna leave too empty."
["Supplies running need sell fast. Need trip. Leave empty"]
= We need to move quickly—mission's window is tight. Don't leave without impact.
Inoichi (pouring sake lazily):
"You know, I wonder if maybe that girl from earlier knows where to get some ink supplies. I'd hate to draw without the proper tools, yeah?"
["Wonder maybe knows get ink. Hate draw proper"]
= Intel may be nearby. I'm ready to execute the illusion (draw = genjutsu/false hit).
Shikaku (glancing toward Seijuro):
"It's tough to guess where some moves lead when your opponent knows your strategy ahead of the play. But some bluffs work wonders."
["Tough guess moves lead. Opponent knows strategy. Bluffs work"]
= Kiri might expect us—we've been leaked. Misdirection is essential.
Seijuro (with a faint smirk):
"Then we'll just have to sell something sharp and sudden—some shiny scrolls, maybe? Light stuff. Something people chase even if it's nothing."
["Just sell sharp scrolls. Light something chase nothing"]
= We fake stealing a valuable scroll. It's bait. Nothing real is taken.
Choza (leaning back, yawning):
"Sounds risky, but hey, risk makes a story worth telling. Better than trading dried eel guts for weeks. We got flare."
["Risk makes story. Better dried guts. Got flare"]
= Risky distraction sells the story. Better than starving out. We have the means.
Inoichi (tilting his head back):
"Wonder if those big fish in the lake still remember what freedom tastes like. Haven't seen one in years. Imagine breaking the ice."
["Big fish lake freedom. One years. Breaking ice"]
= Talk of the Bijū. Implied release. Ice = Yuki Clan mention.
Shikaku (sipping tea):
"Don't get too bold chasing tails. Sometimes the biggest fish end up dragging the boat under."
["Too chasing biggest end boat"]
= Don't overreach. The big play can drown us.
Seijuro (calmly):
"Still, it's a story worth watching. Just need the right timing and bait. Let's see what morning brings."
["Story watching need timing. Let's morning"]
= Eyes are on us. We wait, strike at dawn.
They spoke casually.
But to the trained ear? Nothing more than banter.
To the untrained?
They were just tired merchants, joking about eels and women, tossing lines about freedom and bait.
Seijuro closed the ledger.
His eyes flicked toward the window, then toward his team.
The play was set.
The game would begin by morning.
And the Mist wouldn't know who... or what... had hit them.
A/N Every 3 words, next time they do it, it will be every odd number, it reset after reaching 7. or 11, depends on the length of the sentence.