In the damp hollow of a great tree, rain cascaded endlessly, roaring past like a curtain of silver fire in the wind.
Suddenly, countless red signal flares streaked through the sky, bursting into blinding flashes of crimson light that illuminated the clouds above the battlefield.
Uchiha Hayashi frowned. He wasn't surprised to see Iwagakure shinobi nearby—after all, Iwa had been organizing coordinated assaults against Konoha's forward camps for several days now.
But as he observed the sky carefully, he noticed something strange: the signal flares weren't all the same color. There were at least three distinct types.
That meant the attackers weren't just from Iwagakure.
Hayashi's expression hardened.
This was an unusual situation. The Rain Country was already a chaotic battleground where four different forces constantly clashed for dominance. Could it be that Iwa had joined hands with another hidden village?
He looked up, his eyes tracing the faint glow of the horizon blurred by the falling rain.
If this were peacetime, he might have taken a moment to admire how beautiful it looked—the crimson lights reflecting off the wet trees like fireworks. But tonight, that same beauty was a prelude to slaughter.
What a pity, he thought briefly. Such beauty would soon be drowned in blood.
His reflection was cut short when movement caught his eye. Six Iwa shinobi were approaching swiftly through the forest—one Jōnin, two Chūnin, and three Genin. They were advancing with the precision of a trained strike team.
Hayashi immediately understood their purpose: headhunters.
While the main Iwa force attacked the Konoha stronghold, these smaller groups lingered on the outskirts to eliminate any Konoha shinobi attempting to retreat.
That didn't matter to him. What mattered was ensuring the safety of Mikoto, Nawaki, and Shikaku. He had to cut through the enemy line quickly and send them away from the battlefield.
Even Jōnin weren't guaranteed safety near the main front, let alone Genin.
They needed to survive—to fight another day for the fallen.
Having resolved himself, Hayashi's chakra flared. With a single Body Flicker Technique, he vanished from the hollow, reappearing several meters ahead in a blur of motion.
This battle needed to end quickly. If more Iwa squads converged, they'd be surrounded in no time.
Rain soaked through Hayashi's vest as his speed peaked, lightning crackling in his right hand and casting eerie shadows across the dark forest.
His black pupils turned scarlet, the three tomoe of his Sharingan spinning rapidly as his perception sharpened.
The Lightning Release surging through his arm intensified his movement speed, leaving faint afterimages behind him. In a blink, he closed in on the Iwa Jōnin leading the formation.
The Iwa-nin barely had time to react.
He had seen the Konoha shinobi from afar a second ago—but suddenly, the boy was in front of him, lightning blazing in his palm.
That Chidori-like jutsu aimed straight for his face.
"What kind of monster is this kid?!" the Jōnin thought as he instinctively drew his sword, slashing at Hayashi's arm.
But Hayashi had already read his movement through the Sharingan. With a subtle twist of his body, the blade cut only air.
Hayashi redirected his attack toward the Chūnin behind him instead.
The Iwa Jōnin turned, only to freeze in shock.
Both Chūnin were standing perfectly still, their expressions vacant, their eyes lifeless. Then, as if commanded, they each raised their kunai—and plunged them into one another's abdomens.
Blood splashed across the wet leaves.
The Sharingan's genjutsu shimmered faintly before fading from their eyes.
"Genjutsu... damn it!" the Jōnin cursed.
The remaining Genin panicked, hurling shuriken toward Hayashi in a desperate attempt to cover their superior.
But before the weapons could hit—
"Human Bullet Tank!" a loud voice echoed.
A massive figure spun through the rain like a boulder, deflecting every shuriken and crashing into the Iwa formation.
Choza Akimichi's attack tore through the enemy line.
"Swish! Swish!"
Mikoto, Nawaki, and Shikaku landed beside Hayashi, their presence steady and alert.
"Are you alright, Hayashi?" Mikoto asked, concern in her eyes.
Hayashi shook his head, keeping his gaze locked on the Jōnin. "I'm fine. The war's already started. Let's finish this before it spreads."
Mikoto nodded, the tomoe in her own Sharingan spinning to life.
Nawaki cracked his knuckles, a grin forming despite the tension. "Finally! I've been itching for a real fight!"
"Don't get too excited," Shikaku muttered with a frown. "That's a Jōnin we're talking about. Hayashi, are you sure we can handle him?"
Hayashi didn't answer immediately.
He knew Shikaku's team hadn't been exposed to the same level of danger he had. They were still just children, despite their talent. The horrors of battle hadn't hardened them the way it had him—or Mikoto, or even Nawaki.
"Leave it to me," Hayashi finally said, then burst forward once more.
The Iwa Jōnin gritted his teeth. A cold chill crawled up his spine as Hayashi rushed him. That boy moved like a predator—a reaper cloaked in lightning.
"You're seeking death, brat!" he shouted, rapidly forming hand seals.
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Spears!"
Jagged pillars of rock erupted from the ground, thrusting toward Hayashi like a barrage of lances.
Hayashi didn't flinch.
He gathered chakra in his arm and drove his fist forward, shattering the stone spears into fragments. Then, in a show of sheer strength, he seized one of the larger shards mid-motion and hurled it back at the Jōnin.
The man's eyes widened. What kind of monster strength—!?
He leapt upward, narrowly avoiding the improvised projectile.
But Hayashi was already there, meeting him midair.
The Iwa Jōnin swung his katana in a horizontal arc, aiming for Hayashi's neck. Sparks flew as Hayashi caught the blade with his kunai, blocking the strike.
With his free hand, he formed a quick one-handed seal.
Chakra surged into his lungs.
"This is—?!" the Iwa Jōnin's expression twisted in horror as realization struck.
He tried to use Body Flicker Technique to escape, but his body refused to move.
His legs felt locked in place, weighed down by an invisible force. Veins bulged across his face as he struggled in vain.
"When... when did I fall under genjutsu?!"
His words never finished.
Hayashi exhaled sharply, releasing a roaring inferno from his mouth.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
Flames engulfed the Jōnin, lighting up the rain-soaked forest with a blinding orange glow. The heat hissed as the raindrops turned to steam.
Realizing there was no escape, the Jōnin made a final, desperate choice.
He reached for his pouch—pulling the string of his explosive tags.
"Damn you, Konoha brat...!"
"Boom!"
The explosion tore through the forest, sending a shockwave that shook the trees. Smoke and debris filled the air as everyone froze, watching the fireball consume everything in front of them.
For a long moment, there was only silence—the sound of rain smothering the flames.
Then, from the thick smoke, the sound of footsteps echoed.
Hayashi's figure emerged slowly through the haze. His flak jacket was scorched, his face spattered with mud and blood, but his Sharingan still glowed faintly in the mist.
He walked toward his teammates, the rain washing away the grime as it fell.
Mikoto's eyes widened in relief. "Hayashi…"
Hayashi didn't speak. He simply nodded, his gaze drifting to the smoldering crater where the Jōnin had stood moments ago.
The rain fell harder, hissing against the burnt ground as if trying to erase the evidence of the battle.
---