Based on Shikaku's previous impression of Hayashi, he had always pegged him as the kind of ninja who favoured genjutsu. Yet the lightning nature Hayashi had just used, together with a speed far beyond what most chūnin displayed, left no doubt: Hayashi leaned toward ninjutsu and taijutsu instead.
Were chūnin these days simply more versatile? Shikaku found himself at a loss for words.
Hayashi's true level of ability obviously exceeded what a chūnin should possess. If he had been only chūnin-strong, he'd have been killed long ago.
As Shikaku turned those thoughts over, Hayashi stepped out of the smoke and walked slowly toward them.
Rainwater soaked into his shoes through the seams; the wet weight made every step produce an unpleasant squish that sounded unnaturally loud in the forest.
To the few Iwa shinobi who had been on the receiving end of Hayashi's actions, however, that sound was like a strange, bittersweet music.
A twinge of emotion, equal parts joy and pain, stirred in their chests, a thawing sensation deep within. For a moment their gazes grew dull.
Hayashi reached into his pouch and drew four kunai. Without any flashy technique, he sent them straight at the vital points of the four enemy shinobi.
One by one the kunai struck, followed by muffled gasps and a line of soft thuds as the four collapsed into puddles.
Like a short, precise performance, the squad was wiped out cleanly.
Mikoto and Nawaki were not surprised — they already understood what Hayashi could do. Shikaku, Choza, and Inoichi, however, showed open shock.
Anyone would react that way on seeing a ten-year-old move with such force. Having been entangled with these fighters so long, the difference between expectation and reality struck them hard.
It was clear now: Hayashi was one of those so-called "neighbours' prodigies."
Noticing Shikaku's look, Hayashi touched his face and asked lightly, "What's wrong, Shikaku? Do I look different? Maybe I've become even more handsome."
"No, nothing like that. I'm just surprised by your strength. Also, why didn't you tell us before engaging?" Shikaku asked.
Hayashi's brow twitched. Could he say it was because they moved too slowly? Saying that aloud would have been a risky choice.
Instead he deflected, "The situation was urgent."
Shikaku nodded and dropped the point.
"What do we do next?" Nawaki asked while gathering the fallen and holding the mission scroll.
"Everyone saw the signal flares, ours and the enemy's," Hayashi replied, keeping Shiro on alert while he recovered his chakra. "Orochimaru-sensei gave me some information. This looks like a large-scale offensive, Iwa coordinating with other villages."
Shikaku's eyes sharpened. "If that's true, this joint assault can only mean one thing: this will be the decisive clash on the Amegakure battlefield."
"Assume Iwagakure has allied with Amegakure and Sunagakure. That would make this a three-versus-one fight against Konoha," Hayashi said, raising an eyebrow.
The battlefield would already be a meat grinder; this was not the kind of place for genin to be useful. Hayashi looked at the group and spoke plainly.
"If we enter, we'll just be cannon fodder. Staying out now raises our chances of surviving, but going in could mean certain death. The choice is simple, though heavy."
The rain hammered the trees as the others considered his words. None of them wanted to die — they were all ten years old, after all. The battlefield they yearned for in training, when it came down to it, was a slaughter on a massive scale. Hesitation, struggle, survival or sacrifice — each child felt the question sit like a stone in their chests.
Silence lasted a long minute. When no one stepped forward, Hayashi rose and prepared to decide for them.
"Wait, Hayashi!" Nawaki called, stopping him.
Hayashi turned.
Nawaki's voice shook. "Let us go to the battlefield."
"You thought this through?" Hayashi asked.
"I did." Nawaki touched the scar on his hand with trembling fingers. "My grandfather, my father, my mother, they all died on the battlefield. My sister is there now. Yura died covering our retreat. I can't back down. I won't back down. Even if I'm weak, I want to do something for the village, even if it costs my life. That's my ninja way."
Hayashi studied him. "And you others?"
War was a terrible thing, Shikaku said, but abandoning comrades was worse. He and the others exchanged looks — Choza and Inoichi inclined their heads in agreement. Mikoto needed no asking; she would stand by Hayashi.
"All right, since you've decided," Hayashi said finally, slipping a kunai into his hand, "keep up with my speed. We'll cut into the battlefield and push back to Konoha's camp in the shortest time we can. If we survive, I'll take you for barbecue back in Konoha."
They moved out together, rain blurring the lines between ground and sky, each step carrying the weight of the choice they had made.
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