The Shadow of Self-Interest
They relied on Nara Kazama's secret clan techniques to detect enemy movements in advance.
Though not as convenient as the Hyūga's Byakugan, it was still far better than moving blindly.
As for Uchiha Jin—he had yet to reveal his Sharingan. His taijutsu and Fire Release techniques alone were enough for him to take command.
The reason was simple.
Even though the three of them worked well together now, it was a cooperation forged by desperation, not trust.
Once safety returned, who knew where their loyalties would lie?
Nara Kazama was different.
He and Jin held each other's secrets—dirt deep enough that betrayal would cost them both dearly. Unless something monumental changed, neither would risk turning on the other.
But Kudo Nobuyuki… was another story.
A civilian-born shinobi, Kudo had clawed his way through countless battles to barely master a single Earth Release technique—and even that was only C-rank.
In front of the likes of Uchiha Jin and Nara Kazama, it was almost laughable.
A man like that was easy to buy.
Offer him a few mid-tier ninjutsu scrolls, and he'd trade his loyalty in a heartbeat. Give him a B-rank technique, and he'd probably kneel and call you "sensei."
As for killing him?
That thought never truly crossed their minds.
Not because of mercy.
Not because of emotion.
In the shinobi world, survival mattered more than kindness.
Kindness was a privilege—something only the weak or the truly powerful could afford.
It belonged to those who never had to dirty their hands, or to legends like Senju Hashirama… or to naïve inheritors of destiny like Uzumaki Naruto.
Everyone else?
They couldn't afford the luxury of ideals.
Even Hatake Kakashi, praised for his loyalty, was merely a weapon in Sarutobi Hiruzen's hand—an ANBU operative trained to kill without hesitation.
Was Namikaze Minato kind? Perhaps.
But even as Fourth Hokage, he never truly defied the Third's authority. He never controlled the ANBU in full. His compassion didn't change the world.
So no—Uchiha Jin and Nara Kazama had no illusions about such things.
"Bonds" were just another word for chains.
True comradeship didn't form in a few days of forced cooperation.
Unless one belonged to a trained elite unit, such sentiments were dangerous fantasies.
The reason they kept Kudo Nobuyuki alive was purely practical.
Both Jin and Kazama had secrets—abilities and knowledge they couldn't reveal.
A third person made it easier to mask their true strength. In the chaos of war, any display of power could be written off as coincidence.
If both civilian ninjas were to die, the village would notice. Anbu would investigate. They'd dig into every mission record, every childhood report—until one mistake unraveled everything.
No one, not even Uchiha Jin, could survive that level of scrutiny.
So, for now, Kudo Nobuyuki lived.
---
"Be careful. Two Kirigakure teams ahead," Nara Kazama said suddenly, his eyes narrowing as his shadow technique rippled faintly.
"Their chakra signatures are weak. Probably standard patrol units."
Kudo Nobuyuki looked to Uchiha Jin instinctively.
After days of deadly encounters and flawless tactics, Jin's leadership was unquestioned.
"Old rules," Jin ordered smoothly.
"I'll coordinate with Kazama. You stay hidden and strike from the rear when the time comes."
His hands blurred through seals.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique!"
Seven blazing fireballs erupted from his mouth, spiraling toward the enemy formation.
Kazama immediately followed up, hands weaving in tandem.
"Wind Style: Harm Suppression!"
A powerful gust surged forward, fueling the fire into a roaring inferno.
The combined assault tore through the forest, reducing everything within a dozen meters to ash.
Several Kirigakure genin were incinerated instantly; only two chūnin survived the blast, barely clinging to life.
"Konohagakure ninja!" one of them snarled, glaring with bloodshot eyes. His brother had died at Konoha's hands—now vengeance burned in his gaze.
He lunged forward, but before he could attack, Kudo Nobuyuki appeared behind him.
His kunai flashed once—clean, silent. The man collapsed without a sound.
The remaining chūnin turned to flee—only for a kunai to pierce straight through his heart.
"Secure the heads. Then retreat," Uchiha Jin said coolly.
Kazama and Nobuyuki nodded wordlessly and began to move. Their efficiency was almost mechanical now—habit forged through countless deadly skirmishes.
But then—
A heavy thud echoed through the clearing.
A massive, shark-skinned blade slammed into the ground, scattering embers.
From the shadows, a large man stepped forward, his expression dark and humorless.
His voice rumbled low, like the tide before a storm.
"Big Sword—Samehada," Nara Kazama muttered, face draining of color. "The Watermelon Mountain Pufferfish Ghost!"
A member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. A true monster among jōnin.
Even Uchiha Jin's expression hardened.
If he went all out, he could hold his ground—perhaps even defeat this enemy. But doing so would expose too much. The Sharingan, his techniques, his very identity.
That wasn't an option.
"Run!" he barked.
He didn't have to say it twice. Kazama bolted the moment the order left Jin's lips.
But behind them, Kudo Nobuyuki stumbled. Fear froze his limbs; his chakra flow stuttered.
He couldn't even muster half his usual speed.
The sound of pursuit echoed through the trees.
And in that moment, Uchiha Jin knew—someone wasn't making it out alive.