Night fell over the Land of Water.
Uchiha Chizumi and the others raced through the darkness, streaking past town after town, forest after forest. When they sighted an ordinary village up ahead, Biwa Jūzō was the first to stop.
He frowned as he stared at the village not far ahead.
Chizumi's group halted behind him as well.
"Meow, I smell blood," Jujirō sniffed at the wind blowing toward them, narrowed his eyes, and said, "It's very faint—too faint for a human to notice. That means whoever's there deliberately tried to cover it up."
"I don't smell anything odd," Biwa Jūzō said, his tone grave, "but my gut says something's wrong up ahead.
"This is the hour when regular folks are cooking dinner. Every chimney in that village is smoking, but it looks forced—too uniform. Normal people don't all cook at the exact same time.
"There'd always be one household that finished early, or one that hasn't started yet."
Hearing that, the doubt in Uchiha Izumi's clear eyes faded, replaced by sudden understanding.
She pulled out a small notebook and jotted down the Mist elite's fieldcraft notes.
She didn't see herself as some prodigy. Beyond carrying out justice and receiving justice's gifts, she had to keep learning from others' experience. Only then could she grow stronger.
Biwa Jūzō couldn't decide. He turned to Chizumi and asked under his breath, "We don't know if whoever's inside is after us or someone else. Do we break straight through, or circle around to avoid trouble—huh?"
He froze; Chizumi was striding forward openly, not even trying to hide.
Hey, hey—wasn't that exposing their position in one go?
"Meow, Chizumi-sama's style is righteous," Jujirō said as he padded after him in broad daylight fashion. "And it's not like you just met him today. What's so shocking about this?"
"..."
Okay, fair enough.
Once again outdone by a ninja cat, Biwa Jūzō felt his face heat—good thing his expression control was excellent.
"Tch. Guess we're cutting our way through," he muttered, face taut as he unshouldered the Kubikiribōchō and followed.
Izumi hurriedly stowed her pen and paper and brought up the rear.
"They're here. The rogue—Biwa Jūzō—has entered the kill zone."
Hidden in the gloom, a Mist Anbu's hands flashed through seals.
In an instant, thick fog rolled in from all directions. Mixed with the poor night visibility, the world before Chizumi's group went dim and murky.
Anything past a meter ahead was a blur.
"Tch." A flicker of irritation crossed Biwa Jūzō's face. He tightened his grip on the Kubikiribōchō and said, "They're after us—maybe me specifically. This is Kirigakure's Hiding in Mist Technique. Looks like the intel from those three Mist shinobi on the ship reached the village early."
"Everyone stay sharp!" he barked in a low voice. "This is what the Mist do best—the Silent Killing Technique! They're hidden in the fog. Don't rely too much on sight or hearing—their movements make no sound!
"They'll even fake noises to throw off your senses! What you see and hear may be lies—trust your instincts!"
He clearly wasn't warning Chizumi—he didn't feel qualified to warn that terrifying man.
He was warning the young Uchiha girl who looked like a green rookie. And, well, that irritating ninja cat.
At the same time, a Mist Anbu hidden in the dark glanced at Yagura Karatachi and said, puzzled, "Mizukage-sama, it looks like the rogue Biwa Jūzō has companions. That wasn't in our intel."
An unexpected variable was enough to put every Mist Anbu on edge.
"No matter," Yagura replied coldly. "If they're Jūzō's companions, they're enemies of the Hidden Mist. If they don't know what's good for them, kill them all."
"Yes!" The Anbu thought the Mizukage's tone sounded a little different than usual, but this wasn't the time to dwell on it.
On Yagura's order, more than thirty Anbu who had been lying in ambush advanced without a sound, various ninja tools in hand, closing in on Chizumi's team.
"Meow, Chizumi-sama, this fog smells weird. It's messing with my nose," Jujirō reported after a sniff.
Compared to Biwa Jūzō's grim face, Chizumi was as calm as ever. A faint sulfur reek began to spread in all directions. Jūzō, keenly sensitive, noticed the air temperature around them spike.
His eyelid twitched, and he subtly sidestepped to put a little distance between himself and Chizumi.
Drip— A bead of crimson magma plopped onto the ground.
The damp earth at their feet kindled into a sudden flame.
At that exact moment—
A sharp scythe tore the fog and chopped straight at Chizumi's skull; two chains whistled in from left and right to bind his ankles; several kunai screamed for his vitals.
Izumi and Biwa Jūzō were attacked at the same time.
Silent blades materialized from the mist, slashing at Jūzō's back, while a hail of throwing stars poured toward his face like rain.
Two short blades, one front and one behind, thrust for Izumi's throat and heart.
These Mist Anbu had killed countless foes with this very Silent Killing technique—and gotten away clean.
…
Izumi's body erupted into a puff of white smoke as the blades stabbed in, leaving only a wooden log behind.
Biwa Jūzō dropped into a sudden crouch, letting the shuriken hiss over his head; then he swung the Kubikiribōchō up, the door-sized steel slab shielding his back.
A chorus of metallic clangs rang out as the blows behind him hammered harmlessly against it.
On the other side—
The scythe halted mere centimeters above Chizumi's head, unable to bite down any farther.
Its blade trembled. Whoever wielded it was straining with everything they had, and still it wouldn't descend—because at some point, Chizumi's right hand had simply closed around the edge and pinned it in midair.
Thup, thup, thup—
The kunai aimed at his vitals passed clean through where his body should have been, stirring neither ripples nor blood, and zipped out his back.
They didn't fly far before they sagged into splashes of molten metal and slapped to the ground.
The chains binding his ankles glowed red to the eye.
A sharp hiss of pain broke out in the fog. As the chains melted and snapped, the Mist ninja holding them recoiled in shock, flinging the handles away and stumbling back—his palms thoroughly seared.
Unscathed, Chizumi clapped his hands. The ground underfoot began to heave, and the concealed Anbu around them blanched, unsure what was happening.
The next heartbeat—
Countless thorny wooden spikes erupted from the earth, dense as a thicket, skewering the unwary.
Some took holes through the arm; some had both feet nailed to the ground; the unluckiest were pierced up through the rectum and out the crown of the skull.
Screams rose and fell in waves—
And in doing so, gave away every hidden position.