The night pressed down like a suffocating blanket. The forest stretched endlessly, its canopy blotting out the stars, leaving only scraps of silver light as the moon wove through restless clouds. Every branch creaked under the wind's slow breath, every rustle of leaves cracked like whispers in the silence.
Five shinobi from Sunagakure moved cautiously through the woods, their steps measured, their formation sharp. Cloaks shifted with each stride, and the steel of their headbands occasionally caught the moonlight, glinting like pale eyes in the dark. These were no ordinary soldiers—they were an elite unit, two jōnin at the front and three chūnin at their heels, trained for danger, hardened by the Second Shinobi World War. And yet tonight, unease gripped even them.
One of the chūnin broke the silence first, his voice low but tight."Captain… do you feel it? The air. It's heavy. Like it's watching us."
The older jōnin, a scar running across his cheek, crouched down and pressed his fingers against the soil. His touch lingered, tracing fresh indentations in the earth. His face hardened."Footprints. Two sets."
"Civilians?" asked another chūnin, though his tone carried no conviction.
The second jōnin, taller, broad-shouldered, shook his head slowly. "No civilian carries chakra like this. It's strong. Oppressive."
At those words, the youngest chūnin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes darted nervously around the shadowed treeline."Could it be… them?"
A silence fell, heavier than the night itself. None wanted to speak the names aloud. Finally, the captain exhaled sharply through his nose."The demon children."
Even whispering the words made their spines stiffen. The chūnin shifted uncomfortably, clutching at their weapons.
"Don't," hissed one of them. "They're gone. Dead. After the Hokage—"
"Rumors," the captain cut in, his voice grim. "But chakra like this doesn't belong to ghosts."
Still, the youngest couldn't let it go. His voice quavered as he asked, "If it is them, Captain, what do we do?"
The jōnin's jaw tightened, though his eyes flicked briefly toward his men. "Remember the law. If you face the demon children, you have the right to abandon the mission. No shame in surviving."
The words were meant to calm, but instead they etched dread deeper into their hearts. The very existence of such a law gave weight to the terror of their names.
The Cave
The footprints led them to the base of a ridge, where a cave yawned open, black and silent. Its entrance seemed to devour the moonlight, a wound cut into the stone face of the mountain. The smell of damp earth and old ash drifted from within.
One chūnin muttered, "This is wrong. Everything about this place is wrong."
Still, orders were orders. Torchlight flared, casting long shadows against jagged stone as they stepped inside. Their boots crunched against gravel and bones of fallen leaves. The air grew colder, tighter, carrying a tang of something metallic—something that could only be blood, long since dried into the rock.
The chakra residue here was undeniable, saturating the walls like a film. Even the chūnin felt it, prickling against their skin, making their stomachs churn.
"Keep formation," barked the captain quietly. "Eyes open. Weapons ready."
They pushed deeper. Every step echoed, magnified in the silence until the sound seemed too loud, as though warning something deeper inside of their presence.
A scrape. A faint sound, like stone against stone, from somewhere ahead.
"Who's there?!" the taller jōnin demanded, his kunai flashing in the torchlight. His voice cracked down the tunnel like thunder.
Silence answered.
Then—sudden movement.
A blur. A hiss of steel.
One of the chūnin didn't even have time to scream. His eyes widened, his mouth opened—and then his head slid clean from his shoulders. It hit the ground with a hollow thud, rolling, eyes still wide in terror. Blood sprayed across the wall, sizzling faintly on the torch's flame.
The others froze, horror rooting them to the ground.
And then he emerged from the shadows.
Kaito.
Crimson hair framed his face, wild and vivid under the torchlight. His golden eyes glowed faintly, molten and merciless, his presence heavier than the weight of the cave itself. In his hand, his blade dripped with fresh blood, each drop echoing as it fell onto stone. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
The youngest chūnin stammered, "I-it's true. He's alive…"
Panic surged like wildfire.
"Retreat!" the captain barked, voice breaking. "Run!"
The Slaughter
But Kaito was already moving.
He appeared in front of the first jōnin, faster than sight, his fist charged with spiraling chakra."Wind Release: Cyclone Fist."
The strike slammed into the man's stomach. The force imploded inward, his ribs shattering, organs rupturing. He coughed blood as his eyes glazed, then collapsed, body broken beyond repair.
Another chūnin raised a kunai in desperation. Kaito's heel whipped upward, cracking into the back of his neck. The sound was sharp, final. His body fell limp, crumpling like paper.
The third chūnin shrieked, forming seals, but crimson chains burst from Kaito's back, blazing in the dark. One lashed forward, piercing through the shinobi's chest, straight into his heart. His scream strangled into silence as the chain pinned him to the stone wall. His body twitched once before going still.
Blood poured freely now, dripping from walls, pooling on the cave floor. Torchlight flickered against it, painting the walls in shifting hues of red.
Only one remained—the younger jōnin. His kunai slipped from trembling fingers, clattering uselessly to the stone. His whole body shook as he staggered backward, eyes fixed on the golden gaze that pinned him like prey.
Kaito's blade hovered, but then lowered. The crimson chains retracted.
"You will live," Kaito said, his voice calm, deliberate. "Go. Tell them. Tell the world we are not dead."
The jōnin stood frozen, mind blank with terror. Then instinct seized him, and he bolted, stumbling at first before finding his footing, sprinting down the cave and out into the forest night. His breath came ragged, the drum of his heart loud in his ears as he fled into darkness, carrying the weight of horror with him.
The Cave's Heart
Kaito exhaled slowly, wiping his blade across a fallen cloak. His expression betrayed no emotion, but deep in his eyes, there was a flicker—satisfaction, perhaps, or the cold certainty of inevitability.
He stepped deeper into the cavern.
There, amidst the shadows, sat Soka. Cross-legged, her form utterly still, she seemed untouched by the chaos that had soaked the walls in blood. Her breathing was steady, deep, as if she existed in a rhythm the world around her could not touch.
Natural energy shimmered faintly, coiling invisible threads around her body. Spirals glowed across her palms, faint at first, then stronger, brightening like molten gold etched into her skin. The markings pulsed, alive.
Her eyes opened.
And the cave itself seemed to hush.
They glowed—not with rage, but with clarity. Sharp, serene, seeing far beyond the walls of stone. The Mind's Eye of Kagura. She had mastered it.
Kaito froze, watching. For a moment, he felt as if he were gazing at something divine. Blood still clung to him, yet her presence was tranquil, unshaken. He was the storm, she was the calm after. Together, they were balance—destructive, unbreakable balance.
Soka's gaze slid to him, calm, knowing."You've been busy," she said softly, voice steady despite the glow in her eyes.
Kaito chuckled faintly, sheathing his sword. "Cleaning up. Nothing important."
She smiled—a small, knowing curve of her lips. "Then let's make something important."
The faint smile that spread across Kaito's face was different from his usual cold expression. His golden eyes reflected her glow."Yes," he murmured. "This is only the beginning."
The cave walls seemed to pulse, the silence alive with unseen breath. Blood pooled on the ground, light shimmered from her eyes, and between the two of them, the weight of history shifted.
Predator and prophet, standing side by side, bound by blood and destiny.
A new chapter had begun.
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This is the last chapter for today, give me power stones or reviews and I'll make extra chapters in a few hours, when I wake up, I will write the chapters. I'm going to sleep. I'm sleepy. See you in a few hours, guys!
I saw that most of the votes were for Kaito to be a villain and to explore the world or form his organization, so I'll do that. I'll see if he will form his organization or not depending on your votes.
If you review or give a Power Stone, I'll give you an extra chapter.
A Power Stone: an extra chapter.
A positive review: an extra chapter.
This would help me a lot and would also attract more people, so I'd make more chapters per day.