Night in Konoha was never truly silent.
Somewhere, a hawk called. Somewhere else, a shinobi landed with just enough weight to remind the shadows they were not alone.
Akari walked the border between light and dark.
His orders were clear: "Investigate the unidentified group near the northern woods. Eliminate if hostile. No survivors."
He didn't ask who gave the orders.
When Tobirama gave you silence, it usually meant there were things better left unspoken.
---
The forest near the Uchiha compound was older than most of the village. Its trees were crooked, untrimmed — wild even now. Moonlight barely reached the roots.
Akari dropped into the shadows, blending into them like a breath into smoke.
He sensed them before he saw them.
Four shinobi, cloaked in foreign symbols. One bore the mark of the Land of Rivers, another had no forehead protector at all. Their chakra signatures were deliberate, scattered — too quiet for scouts.
Not spies.
Killers.
They weren't just observing Uchiha territory — they were hunting.
Akari narrowed his eyes.
> "No survivors."
He didn't move.
He dissolved.
---
The first man's breath caught mid-sentence. His throat slit by nothing. He collapsed, face-first, eyes still wide.
The second turned, saw only mist — and in that moment, felt it.
Thick. Cold. Silent.
It wasn't natural mist. It was heavy. Poisonous. Alive.
Yami Doku.
The Dark Fog.
Akari didn't need seals anymore. The technique lived in his breath.
It slid between their lungs, dulling their senses, cutting the world into shadows. Their vision blurred, muscles faltered.
By the time the third shinobi drew a kunai, he was already suffocating on the fog.
Only one remained standing — the smallest of the group. Fast. Clever.
He ran.
Akari didn't chase. He simply stepped into the mist and reappeared in front of him.
The shinobi froze, seeing him clearly now:
Tall. Calm. Bare-chested beneath black silk. Violet eyes glowing faintly through the fog.
"W-what are you?" he gasped.
Akari didn't answer.
He raised two fingers.
The fog tightened.
---
"That's enough."
The voice cut through the forest like a blade.
Akari stopped.
Raien Uchiha stood at the edge of the clearing, Sharingan blazing faintly.
He wasn't alone this time. He had followed the chakra disturbance.
"Let him speak," Raien said, voice low but steady.
Akari's eyes narrowed. "He's not a scout. He's a warning."
"Then let's hear what he has to say — before we silence the wrong ones."
The fog lingered.
Akari lowered his hand.
The survivor collapsed to his knees, gasping, coughing, choking on air that was finally free.
Raien stepped closer. He looked not at the enemy — but at Akari.
"What are you really hiding in that mist?"
Akari met his gaze without flinching.
"What they trained me to be."
The fog receded.
But the tension didn't.
Not between them.
Not within Akari.
Because for the first time, someone had seen him — fully — and hadn't looked away.
---
(Post-Scene – Alone in the Fog)
Later that night, Akari sat at the edge of the village walls — where the forest met stone and silence reigned.
He let the wind play with his hair, eyes fixed on nothing.
Raien's voice echoed faintly in his mind:
"What are you hiding in that mist?"
The truth?
Even Akari wasn't sure anymore.
Once, the fog was a shield. A weapon.
Now it felt more like skin. Something he couldn't peel away without bleeding.
He looked down at his hands.
Clean. Precise. Deadly.
But not empty.
Not tonight.
And that was what frightened him most.