"You're all right now."
Kisuke cut the ropes binding the Konoha ninjas, their bodies covered in bruises and dried blood. As he unraveled the genjutsu clouding their minds, he kept his voice calm. Comfort wasn't his strength, but battlefield leadership demanded it.
The Iwagakure jonin was finally dead. Even with his experience, a three-on-one fight wasn't sustainable—especially when all three opponents were at least Chunin level and coordinated enough to take advantage of openings. The bastard fought well, but eventually, he fell.
"Thank you... damn Iwagakure dogs," one of the rescued ninjas muttered. His voice was hoarse, bitter. Gratitude laced with rage.
"Save it. How's your condition?" Kisuke wasn't interested in thanks. He just needed to know if they could still move. "We're not staying here. We have a mission to complete."
"Mission?" the ninja blinked, confusion setting in. "Wasn't... wasn't this the mission? Rescuing us?"
"The rescue was incidental," Kisuke replied flatly. "We have our own objective. We helped because it didn't interfere. But you're going to help us now."
Any hope in the man's eyes dried up immediately. Good. Hope was a liability here. Kisuke didn't enjoy being the bad guy, but pretending things were better than they were was a luxury he couldn't afford. Not on a battlefield like this.
The man processed it quickly. Probably a veteran. No whining, no pleading—just a hard swallow and a slow nod.
"White Fang, huh?" the man muttered. "No one wants that ending."
Exactly. No one wanted to die a hero anymore. Not since Hatake Sakumo.
"I'm Yamanaka Masato," the man said, flexing his wrists. "They tried messing with our heads a bit, but it wasn't deep genjutsu. Mostly intimidation. I think they wanted us alive for interrogation. We weren't prisoners long."
Kisuke nodded. "That explains why you're still coherent. That's good. I'm Uchiha Kisuke, team leader. That's Hyuga Aya and Imai Kenta."
"Uchiha and Hyuga..." Masato looked between them, then shook his head with a quiet scoff. "Right. You guys really pulled the short straw, didn't you?"
Kisuke didn't answer. He looked around. The forest was still, the fire from his earlier jutsu had nearly burned out, leaving only scorched underbrush and charred bark. Time to move.
"Let's go. Now."
They made their way through the trees, covering their tracks with care. No sign of pursuit yet, but they weren't arrogant enough to assume they were safe. Half an hour later, several Iwagakure squads arrived at the site they'd fled. But they found only ash and silence.
Kisuke and his squad didn't stop until night had fully settled. With Aya's Byakugan keeping watch, they slipped into a shallow cave, shielded by brush and terrain. Temporary shelter, nothing more.
The rescued ninja—six in total—were clearly at their limit. They collapsed like scarecrows, drained by days of stress, pain, and starvation.
Kisuke gave them what little rations they had. It wasn't kindness; it was investment. Dead allies didn't repay favors.
Masato chewed on old, brittle dried meat like it was steak. "Kisuke, what's your actual mission?"
Kisuke didn't hesitate. "We're bait. Our job is to draw the Iwagakure garrison's attention and keep them occupied. While we're doing that, Namikaze Minato's team completes the real operation."
Masato went still. Then he gave a short nod. "Understood. We'll support you."
That was it. No outrage. No bargaining. Just acceptance. Kisuke found himself almost surprised—and a little impressed.
The silence that followed was heavy. Everyone understood what a "bait mission" meant. No backup. No clean exits. Just risk.
Kisuke noticed it right away: the tension in the cave thickened. No one wanted to say it, but the odds of them all making it out alive were dropping with every step deeper into Iwa territory.
Still, no complaints.
Maybe it was because they understood what kind of mission Minato was likely on. Maybe it was because they'd seen enough of war to know some lives had to be gambled for others.
Or maybe, like Kisuke, they had nothing else to believe in anymore.
After a bit of quiet, Kisuke moved toward the cave entrance. Time to check the perimeter. He hadn't even stepped out before he noticed Kenta and Aya following him.
Aya was the first to speak, as blunt as ever. "You've guessed what Namikaze's team is doing, haven't you?"
Kisuke paused, then looked over his shoulder.
"Yeah," he said. "I've got a pretty damn good guess."
"It seems that I overestimated the two of you." Kisuke laughed. "How did you even survive this long if you couldn't think this far ahead?"
He wasn't being kind, but he wasn't lying either. He could mock them—he had all the advantages. Knowing the truth gave him leverage, and unless he somehow self-destructed, he was confident that major events would stay mostly on course.
Well... mostly.
"You really do know something."
Aya narrowed her eyes. She didn't take crap from anyone, least of all a smug Uchiha, no matter how smart or accurate he was.
Kenta , in contrast, said nothing. Born a civilian, he understood his place in the unspoken hierarchy. He wasn't about to challenge a clan elite—especially one who might be right.
But they both started thinking. That was fine. Kisuke didn't stop them. If anything, he was curious to see how close they'd get.
Aya was the first to act. She quickly pulled a crumpled map from her pouch and laid it flat on a rock. Her fingers traced the known supply routes, then paused.
Kenta leaned in. Kisuke stayed silent, arms crossed. He was half amused, half annoyed. Was it really that easy to guess?
Aya's eyes lit up. "It's the Kannabi Bridge, right?" she said, nearly triumphant. "It has to be. The path lines up. Their route cuts through the Grass Country—if they blow that bridge, Iwagakure's entire logistics chain collapses."
"I was just about to say that," Kenta added with a sheepish grin. "Iwa village fighting the kumo village, so if their path gets cut off..."
"Then the Iwagakure troops already in here are stranded," Aya finished. "Cut off the supply lines, isolate the front. It's the cleanest way to force a ceasefire—and squeeze concessions afterward."
"Which means..." Kenta's tone flattened. "This mission is a hell of a lot more dangerous than we thought."
Kisuke exhaled slowly through his nose. Yep, they'd figured it out. Smart, the both of them—too smart, maybe. Kisuke started to feel a small chill of unease creep down his spine.
Could they be... like me?
He shook the thought away. No. If they were transmigrated too, fate was being comically cruel to them—sticking them with him.
And if they were... well, he'd kill them. No need for two.
Kisuke touched his nose. These two people were indeed smart. When all the ninjas were thinking about how to deal with the enemy, they had already thought of forcing the enemy to cease fire and even negotiate after the ceasefire.
This is probably what is called the 'Hokage' thinking, right?
The thinking of Naruto is not just the thinking of "one clan" and "one village", but a larger and more inclusive thinking mode.
Kisuke has more things to think about because he was once an adult.
But the two people in front of him were obviously two little kids, but they also had similar good thinking, which made him even more vigilant.
"So, the Namikaze team's target is the Kannabi Bridge, and they need to blow up the bridge, right?" Aya seemed to realize the seriousness of the problem: "Damn it, no wonder so many teams need to be dispatched together instead of on the front battlefield. The Iwagakure ninjas can probably guess some of Konoha's ideas, so they need to keep intercepting to ensure the stability of the rear, that is to say."
"Our mission is more dangerous and terrifying than we expected." Kenta couldn't laugh anymore: "I'm afraid we will die here, everyone."
"So," Aya said, eyes narrowing, "you planned this. You took the prisoners to increase our numbers, make more noise, draw more Rock Ninja attention. Make them think we're the problem."
"The more chaos, the more we disappear into it," Kenta muttered. "You used the prisoners as decoys. That's why you dragged them along."
"You really are..." Aya trailed off, eyeing him with a mix of grudging respect and latent suspicion.
"This is all your guess," Kisuke said coolly. "If you'd like, I can help you forget it."
His tone was light, but the look he gave them wasn't. The kind of look that said, Try me.
They got the message.
Aya went silent. Kenta looked away. Even the trees outside the cave seemed to hush up for a second.
Some truths weren't meant to be shared, especially when they were next to Yamanaka member.
But now that they knew... they didn't press. They didn't need to.
Still, doubts crept in.
Aya leaned back, chewing the inside of her cheek. "We make more noise, yeah. But if the noise is too loud, they find us. What then?"
"Then we die," Kenta said bluntly.
"Speak for yourself," Kisuke muttered under his breath.
The truth was, this whole thing—grabbing the prisoners, drawing out Iwagakure forces, setting up this chain reaction—was a snap decision. A gamble. Something he did not because it was written somewhere, but because it felt like it would pay off.
If it hadn't worked, he would've gone back to the original plan: low-profile, silent kills, then fade out before the bridge went boom. Get a few injuries, limp home, maybe get a medal and a promotion.
Instead, here he was—leading a ragtag group into potential suicide, counting on chaos and psychology to survive.
"Once we've collected enough," Kisuke finally said, almost to himself, "we let the prisoners charge. We stay behind. Watch from the shadows."
"And if they all die?" Aya asked, voice quiet.
Kisuke gave a slight shrug. "Then we improvise. Again."
He glanced back into the cave. The rescued ninjas were resting, still weak but no longer shaking. Survivors. Tools, really. Hopefully useful ones.
"We'll move at dawn," he said. "Until then, rest. After this, it only gets harder."
He didn't need to say it, but he did anyway.
"Don't die unless you're useful first."