Four days passed.
In that short time, the 'Indomitable' embedded themselves perfectly into Vale's society.
To the average citizen, they were not shinobi—just ordinary faces, working ordinary jobs.
Haruto wiped down a glass and placed it back on the shelf, sliding a mug of ale toward a regular.
"Two glasses of red wine!"
"Coming right up," Haruto replied smoothly, expertly pouring the wine and setting the glasses down.
He served the customers with a polite smile, all the while collecting whispers and gossip with each passing drink.
"A bar... is where information flows the easiest."
In truth, Haruto wasn't working alone. His shadow clone, under the alias Kuramu, assisted an old tavern owner on the other side of town—gathering a separate stream of intel.
The team had agreed: if they crossed paths in public, they wouldn't acknowledge one another.
To outsiders, they were strangers.
Haruto exhaled and took a seat for a brief rest. The bar bustled with laughter and spilled drinks—trivial to some, but to him, a treasure trove of secrets. He began scribbling notes in a discreet logbook:
"Fake Itachi's death, but trick Tobi and Sasuke into believing it."
"Resurrect Madara... but make him doubt the Eye of the Moon Plan."
"Neutralize Deidara during the Fourth War: use his ego."
Haruto's mind never stopped spinning.
CRASH!
A sudden explosion of sound snapped him from his notes. A large, burly man stood over a scrawny, pale youth—shaking with fear as the table lay shattered beside them.
Haruto didn't move. Instead, his eyes followed the chaos with eerie calm.
"The calm of a Leaf ninja..." he thought, watching silently.
The thug scoffed, dropping the youth, and straightened his stained collar.
"Tch. Sorry for the mess," he muttered, tossing a pouch of coins onto the counter before storming out.
Haruto caught the pouch, bowed slightly. "Thank you, sir..."
He returned to his duties.
But unbeknownst to the Indomitable—they were being watched.
In the Shadows…
Cloaked figures darted through back alleys, moving silently until they gathered in a ruined warehouse.
"What the hell took you so long?" growled a man cloaked in darkness.
Another figure bowed low. "We've located your brother."
A smirk crept onto the speaker's lips.
"Good."
The Day Before the Festival
Prince Reiju wandered the streets of Velthra, eyes gleaming with curiosity. Colorful stalls lined the roads, sizzling with roasted pork skewers, sweet potatoes, and foreign spices.
A crowd had formed around an art stall.
Drawn in by the murmurs, Reiju approached—only to freeze in place.
A girl sat at the front, her demeanor colder than frost as her brush moved effortlessly. Behind her, an elegant mountain formed, crowned by a burning sun and flanked by graceful birds.
"A perfect sunrise," Reiju whispered. "She's incredible..."
His friend smirked. "Bet she won't even look at you."
"I'll wager 5,000 ryō she marries you!" another teased.
Reiju stepped forward and raised his hand. "May I commission a portrait—for 10,000 ryō?"
The crowd gasped. Sahara—Sai's alias—looked up with cool eyes and nodded.
"Come forward."
Reiju sat on a chair as Sahara silently studied him. In just 10 minutes, she presented the finished work: the prince, depicted as a majestic king—crown gleaming, posture proud.
Reiju blinked in awe.
"A prince… portrayed as a king. Who is this woman?"
"I want her as my concubine..." he muttered to himself.
Sahara, unamused, took the ryō and stuffed it into her bag.
The Golden Dancer
Further down the road, another crowd formed—this time of only men, cheering and throwing coins in a frenzy.
There, under a lantern-lit stage, Narue danced.
Her golden hair flowed like liquid light, her movements hypnotic. Though veiled, her beauty shimmered with every turn and sway. Coins rained down like petals.
"Magnificent..." Reiju whispered, nose bleeding as he flung a wad of cash into the air.
He watched until the performance ended and followed discreetly as Narue left.
She paused in an alley, her instincts flaring.
"I'm being watched."
She turned—and saw a man "reading" a newspaper...upside down.
With narrowed eyes, she marched up, snatching the paper.
"You... held it upside down."
Reiju flashed a sheepish grin. "Ah... yes?"
Narue glared in polite silence and walked off toward her hotel.
Later That Night…
Reiju crouched in a tree, binoculars in hand.
"Just a peek through the window… I mean, for security purposes…"
He shifted his weight—
CRACK.
The tree gave way. "AAAAAAH—!"
THUD.
Right into a bush.
"…That tree wasn't this weak before," he mumbled, rubbing his back.
Above him, something shimmered faintly—a sinister purple glow hidden in the canopy.
Watching silently.
"This guy's a pervert... But if he saw Hinata or anyone else—he's dangerous."
Haruto's eyes glinted coldly from the shadows before vanishing.
Narue's Hotel Room
Inside, Naruto dispelled the Transformation Jutsu, revealing his true self.
"Was someone... watching me?"
He peered out the window but saw nothing.
Opposite Room — Sahara
Sahara gazed at her portrait of the prince, eyes narrowing at the ominous red shading she'd accidentally drawn.
"Why did I add red eyes…? Bad omen?"
She stepped out and knocked on Haruto's room.
Knock knock knock.
He opened the door, smiling brightly. "Sahara! Such diligence!"
She pushed her way in.
A janitor passing by sighed. "These young masters and their maidens... Always up to something."
Inside Haruto's Room
Sai stood before Haruto, arms crossed, serious.
"I don't know if a actually draw these eyes or it was a mistake," he said. "but none the less this is a sign we should become a bit alert."
Haruto rubbed his chin. "I haven't noticed anything suspicious. None of my clones have reported disturbances either."
Sai bowed. "okay."
He turned to leave.
"…Wait, what?" Haruto blinked, confused by Sai's abruptness as he saw him storm away.
To Be Continued…