Moonlight thinned the stars.
Ancient trees blotted the dark, their tangled branches lifting like ranks of gaunt arms. Even the moths seemed afraid. They hurled themselves at the camp's single flame, only to be nailed to trunks by senbon that came from nowhere.
Mari Kuriu plucked a needle free and flicked the twitching moth aside.
Shin Okamura fanned the spit. The chicken skin had gone a light brown, a fine sheen of fat beading and dripping into the coals with a tempting hiss.
After their brush with Zabuza, everyone sat around the fire retelling the day's close call.
"Konome, I am telling you, it was dangerous. If I hadn't unleashed my Fire Release at the perfect moment…"
"You were amazing, Shin-oniisan."
Konome Taketori's sightless face tilted toward the turning bird, throat working as she swallowed, her words giving him exactly the admiration he wanted.
"Konome, do not let him talk your ear off."
Karin Kozan cut across Shin's story without mercy, drawing a wounded look from him. Ona kept turning the spit and glanced at Mari's tight expression.
"What is it, Sensei?"
Mari shook her head. "Nothing. I am wondering why Zabuza let us go."
The morning's danger still crept under her skin. If Momochi Zabuza had not withdrawn for reasons unknown, they would have vanished into the mist for good.
Why was he here at all? Was it tied to the strange disappearances among Kirigakure's leadership? And the Ice Release user beside him, where had that one come from? Why spare them in the end? Could some passing Good Samaritan have intervened without being seen?
The more she pried at it, the bigger the knot grew.
"Stop thinking about it. None of us got hurt. That is the best ending. Can we eat yet?"
Konome's small voice tugged her back. Looking at the girl rubbing her hands like a greedy kitten, Mari's sternness softened into a fond smile. Her questions drifted away.
"Maybe a little longer."
Shin checked the meat and sounded unsure.
Konome nodded. Under the Byakugan, it had been done a while ago. She was not sure about Shin's Fire Release, but his cooking was definitely average.
They chatted. Somehow the talk circled back to the Ice Release ninja at Zabuza's side.
"Shame we didn't kill that ice-using freak," Shin muttered, thumping his thigh.
"No rush. One day we will wipe that entire brood out."
At the words bloodline ninja, a feral light burned in Mari's blue eyes. Her lovely features sharpened, unmasked killing intent twisting her face into something Konome barely recognized.
"What is wrong with bloodline shinobi?" Konome asked, puzzled.
"They are monsters. They are not human. Sensei's family was."
"Karin."
Ona shot her a warning look. Karin glanced at Mari's darkening expression, stuck out her tongue in regret, and let it drop.
Konome let it drop too.
"All right. It is done. Eat."
Playing the clown, Shin carved with his kunai and handed out portions.
"Here, Konome."
She took the stick. Firelight glazed her porcelain features in a faint orange. The smell should have made her ravenous, yet suddenly she was not hungry at all.
…
Yesterday morning.
Kirigakure Hospital.
Disinfectant stung the nose in the pallid room. A single ceramic water jar blushed faintly pink at the lip of the lonely bed.
"Cough… cough, cough…"
Takuto Sotoike slumped against the headboard in striped patient's garb, the chest that had once been sturdy rising and falling, breath snagging.
He gagged.
He hung his head over the side and spat. Black-red clots thudded into the jar, bobbing up through the water. Washed of surface blood, they spread a deeper red through the jar. Up close they were no mere clots, but bits of organ laced with veins.
He shoved up a sleeve and stared at his arm. The skin had a sickly pale-blue cast, slicked with a thick, mucous sheen, like some creature risen from deep water.
He closed his eyes in disgust.
Elder Genshii had been right. Even the faintest touch of Isobu's chakra was not something an ordinary body could bear. The price was life itself.
Takuto accepted that.
Weeds survive by bending. To change the field, they must burn.
The Mizukage's genjutsu had been dispelled and the lockdown lifted. Elder Genshii was shoulder to shoulder with the Mizukage clearing a mountain of work. Ao had agreed to aid the ANBU in hunting the spy.
He had kept his promise.
The blood fog draped over Kirigakure had begun to thin. When Takuto saw Hoshino again in the afterlife, he could raise his head and speak of what he had done.
There was one thing left first.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He had lost count of how many times he had started from the top, weighing every suspect who had left the village, hunting for the crack in the mask.
Why could he not find it?
His dull eyes skimmed a list he knew by heart. Ao had vetted each of these people.
No issues.
The killer who had taken Hoshino's family came and went like a ghost.
Only one who had left had not been inspected by Ao.
The blind girl.
Takuto's gaze fixed on the top photo. A silver-haired child, blood on her fingertip, a broad black band veiling her eyes. Fragile, mysterious.
"No chakra fluctuations. No calluses on the fists or palms. Smooth muscle tone, unscarred skin…"
He could recite the lines in his sleep.
Where was it. What was wrong.
His eyes kept staring. Until they snagged on the last words.
A spark leapt.
"Unscarred skin… cough, cough…"
His shout made the nurse jump. She hurried in.
"Sir, are you all right?"
As blood spilled from his mouth, Takuto's eyes, dimmed by a wasting life, flared bright one last time.
An unsupervised blind girl without a single mark on her body.
Damn it.
He should have seen it sooner.
He slammed a fist weakly to his chest.
"Cough… bring me Mist Crow…"
The nurse scrambled away. Moments later, an ANBU in a beaked mask stepped into the room.
"Captain."
Mist Crow bowed.
"The killer who took Dark Fox is found. It is the blind girl."
Takuto jabbed the list, digging his finger into the photo, as if he could poke a hole straight through time and space to draw blood.
"You and Blood Hound… cough…"
"Your condition…"
"Before I die, I do not care what it takes. Bring me her head. That is my final order."
Mist Crow looked at the trembling captain, at the iron in his gaze.
The flippant voice turned solemn.
"As you command."