A crimson forest spread at the foot of the mountain, maple leaves glowing like fire under the fading sunlight. The wind carried a faint metallic tang—blood.
The Squad Leader crouched low, his gloved hand brushing across a maple leaf. His fingertips came away slick and red. He rubbed them lightly and frowned.
"It's still warm," he muttered.
Neji's pale eyes shifted toward the faint trail. But abruptly, the blood ended. No footprints, no broken branches, no drag marks—nothing. The trail had been cleanly cut off.
Neji closed his eyes briefly before activating his Byakugan. His vision expanded, veins bulging at his temples as chakra pathways lit up around him like constellations. He scanned the rugged cliffs, the tangled undergrowth, the distant ridgelines. Finally, his sight locked onto an Izakaya roughly two kilometers away, nestled against the slope like a secret.
The Squad Leader followed his gaze. Recognition sparked in his expression.
"The Red Leaf Izakaya," he explained with a knowing smile. "Good food, strong drink, excellent service. Always full during meal times. But…"
Neji turned his head. "But what?"
"Most don't go there for the food." The Squad Leader's grin deepened. "They go for the proprietress."
Neji's brow twitched. For a brief moment, he was speechless. Then his lips curved faintly, the corners rising with understated amusement.
"Food and sex… both are human nature. So the most popular dish at the Red Leaf Izakaya isn't food, but the proprietress herself."
The Squad Leader chuckled, surprised at the young Hyuga's bluntness.
Neji's gaze lingered on the Izakaya, thoughtful. "Let's go," he decided. "We'll check it out."
The Squad Leader's tone sharpened, command slipping into his voice. "Stay alert. If our attacker is hiding anywhere, it's likely there."
The patrol moved swiftly, cloaks fluttering, weapons at the ready. Soon, they pushed open the sliding wooden doors of the Red Leaf Izakaya.
A rush of odors assaulted them—alcohol fumes, sweat, grilled meat, incense. The din of voices halted abruptly as the Squad Leader strode inside.
"The Patrol Team is on official business!" he barked. His voice carried like a blade drawn in the silence. "Everyone remain seated. No one moves without permission."
The room froze. Drunkards stiffened, chopsticks halfway to their mouths. Dice hung midair, never thrown. A few bold patrons exchanged nervous glances, but no one dared rise.
Neji's Byakugan swept across the hall. Ordinary chakra networks glowed faintly in every body present. Nothing suspicious. Just civilians, drunk and unaware.
And then she appeared.
From the second floor descended the proprietress of the Izakaya. A blonde beauty in her twenties, curves sculpted to allure, spectacles perched delicately on her nose. She moved with a languid grace, each step deliberate, her lips tilting with practiced charm.
To any man here, she was temptation made flesh.
But Neji's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
Yakushi Nono.
The shrine maiden who once traveled. The woman known as Root's finest spy—master of disguise, mistress of deception. A woman so skilled she could lie to others until she herself believed the illusion.
The orphanage director in Neji's memory had been gentle, soft-spoken, warm as spring sunlight. But this woman—this proprietress—was a siren of the night, every movement a promise of sin.
Had Neji not burned her face into memory, he would never have recognized her.
The Squad Leader approached him, lowering his voice. "All ordinary people. No abnormalities."
Neji's lips curved faintly. He patted the man's shoulder as if in reassurance. "Good work. Let's eat first. My treat."
The Squad Leader blinked. His jaw tightened slightly, resisting the urge to groan. Eat? Now?
But Neji was already moving, choosing a corner table. He raised his hand casually. "Proprietress, your strongest sake and your best dishes."
Yakushi Nono's eyes gleamed. "At once, honored guests."
She swayed toward them, hips rolling like waves, a tray balanced in her hands. Setting the dishes before Neji, she leaned just enough for her blouse to dip, revealing flawless pale skin, the firm curves beneath. Her perfume curled in the air, sweet and intoxicating.
Her voice lowered, velvet-soft. "Ninja-sama… your mission must be exhausting. Why not try the entertainment upstairs? I guarantee it will soothe away your fatigue."
Her eyes lingered on Neji longer than necessary, testing him.
The Squad Leader's hand rose in a sharp motion. "Enough. Leave." His tone was ice.
Nono laughed lightly, a tinkling sound. "Of course, of course." She turned, but her eyes remained locked with Neji's for a heartbeat too long before slipping away.
Neji tilted the sake bottle and drank deeply. The burn spread through his throat, but his mind stayed cold, calculating. After a moment, he staggered to his feet, swaying dramatically.
"I'll… go upstairs," he slurred.
"Neji, what are you—!?"
"Hey, come back!" Two patrol members tried to stop him.
But the Squad Leader raised a hand. His expression was strangely calm. "Let him go."
He understood well. Ninja lived in shadows and blood. If they did not drown their pain in wine, women, or wealth, it would consume them. Neji, despite his youth, bore burdens no child should. The Hidden Cloud's only Byakugan heir, a weapon and a hope rolled into one. If he sought relief, who could deny him?
Yet something nagged at him. Since stepping into the Izakaya, Neji's behavior had been off-kilter, almost staged. The Squad Leader's eyes narrowed.
What exactly was the boy playing at?
---
Upstairs, Yakushi Nono approached with a playful smile. "So eager, Ninja-sama? Shall we… go to a private room?"
Neji's sandal struck the floor hard, the wooden planks groaning under the force. He chuckled lightly. "This building is old. If we shake things too much, the customers downstairs might choke on dust. That wouldn't do, would it?"
Her laughter was sweet, teasing. "Then the basement. It's sturdy. Soundproof. We won't disturb anyone."
"The basement… yes." Neji's arm wrapped casually around her slender waist. She leaned into him, her warmth pressing close. Together, they started down the staircase leading lower.
Then Neji's hand flipped, lightning-quick. In one motion, he pinned her against the wall, iron fingers clamping her wrist. His breath brushed her ear as he whispered, voice low but sharp as a kunai:
"Auntie Yakushi Nono. We finally meet."
Her eyes widened, the mask slipping for the first time. Shock, then calculation, then cold fury flickered across her face.
In an instant, her heel snapped upward. A hidden blade jutted from her sandal, arcing toward his abdomen.
But Neji's legs locked tight, catching her strike mid-motion. His grip on her wrist tightened brutally, and chakra surged from his palm—black lightning, sizzling and hissing, flooding into her tenketsu.
Screeech!
The sound was shrill, piercing. Nono convulsed, a strangled cry escaping her lips. Strength drained from her body, leaving her trembling and weak in his hold.
Neji eased her down to the floor, his expression unreadable. So weak… She was never the assassin.
If not her, then who?
---
BOOM!
The building shook violently. Dust rained from the ceiling. A deafening explosion tore through the first floor, screams cut short.
Neji's eyes snapped wide. He darted downstairs, Byakugan blazing.
The scene was carnage. The three patrol ninja lay sprawled in blood, throats cut, torsos split. Civilians had fared even worse—limbs torn, flesh shredded, bodies reduced to grotesque heaps.
A shadow blurred across the wreckage.
Neji didn't hesitate. His body flared with lightning, chakra armor sparking black. He vanished in a flicker and gave chase.
The figure rounded the corner ahead. Neji closed the distance in seconds—five meters, four, three—his palm already surging with lethal chakra.
"Lightning Release: Chidori Sharp Spear!"
The black spear of lightning extended like a whip, impaling the figure's back.
But instead of blood, the body shattered. Thousands of insects burst apart, swarming, scattering into the night.
Neji skidded to a halt, his chest rising sharply. His eyes narrowed.
"Insect Clone… Aburame clan. Was it Yume Ryuma? Or Aburame Torune?"
The street grew colder. A whisper of wind slid past, carrying voices.
"Quickly, after him."
"Don't let him escape."
Figures emerged from the shadows—ten patrol ninja, surrounding Neji in a perfect circle. Their weapons gleamed under the moonlight.
The Squad Leader, blade drawn, stepped forward. His voice was low, grim. "You… are Neji?"
Recognition flickered as his gaze locked on the boy's pale eyes.
Killing intent thickened around the group, suffocating.
Neji stood silently, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite the danger. His Byakugan spun, veins bulging as he scanned their chakra.
His furrowed brows relaxed slowly, his tone cold yet calm.
"So… this is where you were waiting for me."
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