To Hanazawa, Natsume Yō's trembling body and darting eyes were proof enough—fear. And she had zero patience for cowards.
"No worries. I won't drag you down."Snapped out of his trance by her sharp words, Yō exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
"…Better not," Tankei muttered coldly, his tone laced with contempt. In his eyes, Yō was nothing more than a poser—shaking one second, pretending strong the next.
"Tenshin, are you sure you're fine?" Even Lion-Hawk glanced over, frowning.
"I said I'm fine. Believe it or not, doesn't matter. If I really hold you back, just toss me aside. ANBU doesn't need dead weight, right?" Yō's voice was flat, almost detached, as if he were talking about someone else entirely.
"…See that you don't."Lion-Hawk gave a curt nod, but his expression said the same as the others: they didn't buy it.
"Shaking means fear? Not necessarily. But whatever—whether you trust me or not, the truth'll show itself in the field."Yō shrugged, slipping back into the quiet of his System.
叮![Notice: Wind Release: Rasengan – A-rank Wind Ninjutsu. Current strength: insufficient. Learning locked.]
"Tch… can't learn it yet, huh? Fine. I can wait."He smirked to himself. Minato Namikaze might already be toying with the idea of molding chakra into a spiraling sphere, but perfecting it was still far off. That gave Yō a real shot at stealing a march on the future Fourth Hokage.
The thought of the Wind Release: Rasengan burned like temptation itself. Once he mastered it, his power wouldn't just double—it'd skyrocket. And with every future level-up, it would only keep scaling higher.
"All right, we move," Lion-Hawk ordered after their short rest. His gaze swept the squad like a drawn blade. "Stay sharp. This is war. Sunagakure's patrols are tight—if we're exposed, there'll be no graves left for us. And if anyone drags us down, I'll cut them myself."
He didn't need to say the name. His eyes flicked toward Yō, clear as daylight.
"Yes, sir!"The others echoed back, though not without giving Yō another round of disdainful looks before following Lion-Hawk toward Sunagakure's gates.
"Heh. Keep doubting. You'll see soon enough whether I'm dead weight. One thing's certain: I don't plan on dying."Yō touched his nose, chuckling under his breath, then darted after them.
Weakest link? Maybe on paper. But the one who trips the squad isn't always the lowest-ranked fighter.
Still, he couldn't deny it—without Lion-Hawk's leadership, sneaking into Sunagakure would've been a gamble even he wouldn't take. The man's strength rivaled Sarutobi Asuma in the source timeline—a top-tier ANBU captain.
As they neared the gates, the squad transformed with practiced hands. Henge no Jutsu cloaked them in the ragged skins of traveling merchants, and ANBU disguises layered the rest. After multiple inspections, they slipped inside undetected.
War meant people were resources. Sunagakure was stretched thin—easier to infiltrate than usual.
Inside, Yō lifted his eyes, the desert wind biting his face. Figures. Sunagakure—barren, windswept, unforgiving.