The air was thick with steam in the bathhouse, muffling sound and scent. The mineral spring hissed softly around Naruto's shoulders as he sat back against the rock edge, letting his muscles relax for the first time in days. His eyes were half-lidded, face calm.
But even when resting, a shinobi doesn't sleep.
Not truly.
His chakra, refined through hours of sensing practice and Tsunade's harsh drills, stirred like a thread of awareness just beneath the surface.
Then it snapped tight.
A jolt of chakra—not his, but someone else's.
Nejire.
The flare was sharp and chaotic. Followed by a scream muffled a moment later.
Naruto's eyes opened wide, pupils sharpening instantly. A heartbeat passed. Then he moved.
His towel hit the rock floor as he surged to his feet. A flick of chakra dried water all over his skin, he pulled his pants into place, his shirt only half-flung over his bare shoulder as he burst from the bathhouse, sandals striking hard against the stone tiles.
His right arm flexed—summoning the chakra seal along his forearm—and with a burst of chakra, a shimmer, and the sword sealed inside the tattoo burst into his waiting hand.
Steel gleamed cold in the moonlight.
He reached the inn's courtyard in seconds. The lights were still lit, the front hall quiet—too quiet. No staff, no noise. Only a cracked screen door swaying slightly in the breeze.
The scent of blood touched his nose.
Then he heard it—a stifled grunt, the shuffle of boots on tatami, someone trying not to cry out.
He didn't stop to knock.
Naruto tore open the screen and stormed inside.
What he saw made his chakra rise like fire.
Nejire was on the ground, her back to the wall, her breath ragged. Her face was bruised, her lip split. Her Chūnin vest had been ripped off and thrown to the side. Her inner shirt, one half torn and other half clung to her body from sweat and blood. She held one arm close, trembling but upright, her eyes locked on the three Kumo-nin who stood around her.
Two of them held chakra suppression cuffs. The third—the shortest, broadest—had a grin Naruto would never forget.
It disappeared in an instant.
His iris now glowed with something deeper like twin gemstone of Lapis Lazuli, with silver shimmering in pupils. The color of chakra itself, swirling faintly like the surface of a storm.
Naruto didn't shout. He didn't speak. His feet barely touched the floor.
The first Kumo-nin turned—too slow.
The blade in Naruto's hand swung in a clean, brutal arc. One breath, one step, one strike.
Blood hit the floorboards as the man dropped without a sound and head.
He turned to next, one with shortest height, tried to shout something—but Naruto was already there. The blade vanished in a flicker of seal-light back into his forearm. He didn't need it anymore.
This one would feel it.
He grabbed the Kumo-nin by the vest and drove his fist into the man's gut—hard. Once. Twice. A third time. Ribs cracked under his knuckles. The Kumo-nin gasped, tried to form a seal—the fourth made the man crumple, gasping, blood pooling beneath him as he whimpered, not even able to stand.
Naruto continued hammering him on his face, he only woke up when his punch cracked open his jawbone.
Naruto's fist hovered midair, trembling.
He didn't kill him.
But the man wouldn't be fighting again anytime.
The third froze. He didn't reach for a weapon. Didn't shout. He just looked at Naruto—and ran.
Coward.
Naruto didn't chase. Not yet.
He turned to Nejire.
She was still conscious. Barely. Her Byakugan wasn't active anymore, but her hand was clenched, bloody, around a broken senbon. She'd fought—probably taken them by surprise just long enough.
"Nejire," he said softly.
She blinked. Her voice was faint, rough. "I… I tried to seal the door. They slipped through the jutsu. One... one hit me before I could react."
He reached her in two steps, kneeling. "You held out. You bought time. That's all that matters."
She looked down at the unconscious attacker at his feet. "You came fast."
"You screamed loud," he said, offering a ghost of a smile.
The door slammed open behind them. Shikako stood in the threshold, kunai already drawn. Her eyes scanned the room in one instant—the blood, the broken doorframe, the torn scrolls—and then she looked at Nejire.
"Alive?" she asked.
Naruto didn't look at the man. "Barely."
"We got jumped," Naruto said continued.
Shikako's eyes narrowed. "Then we're filing a report tonight."
Naruto stood slowly, helping Nejire to her feet. She winced but leaned on him, her breathing stabilizing.
"I'll take her to the healer. Watch the inn. One ran."
"On it," Shikako said, already vanishing down the hall.
Naruto looked down at the unconscious Kumo-nin, blood pooling faintly from his cracked jaw. His hand clenched briefly—but he didn't finish it.
He looked away instead.
This wasn't just a border violation anymore. This was deliberate.
An attempt. A message.
And Konoha would send one back.