Kazemaki's defiant roar echoed through the canyon.
They fought with courage—reckless, desperate courage.
But it was meaningless.
Moments later, silence returned.
Only corpses remained.
Sunagakure. Iwagakure.
The narrow valley reeked of iron and dust.
Raidō flicked the blood from his black blade, the dark green poison pattern along its edge spreading visibly through the wounds of the fallen.
Genma clenched another senbon between his teeth, his gaze scanning for any remaining threats.
Iwashi stood at the flank, breathing hard but steady, eyes alert.
Anko's snake slithered back into her sleeve; she pouted, kicking a pebble aside.
Itachi silently wiped his kunai clean, his eyes sweeping over the battlefield calmly.
Roshi stood still, frowning slightly.
Their enemies had fought bravely, almost suicidally so.
That, precisely, was the most suspicious part.
Without reinforcements, their only real defense had been the sealing traps they set within their camp.
To fight head-on was irrational.
Just as Roshi had said before, the odds had never been in their favor. His team's composition was too strong.
Genma and Raidō were Special Jonin—both carrying the combat power of full-fledged Jonin, even if they lacked in certain other areas.
And though their team included a Genin—Itachi hadn't yet taken the Chunin Exams—that was only a matter of formality, not strength.
In pure combat power, they had three Jonin and three Chunin against two Jonin and four Chunin.
Unless the opposing Jonin possessed some extraordinary jutsu, they had no chance.
And if they did have such a trump card… they wouldn't have needed to lure anyone into a trap in the first place.
So why?
The question wasn't why Sunagakure would betray Konoha, but why these particular shinobi had chosen to die.
They could have feigned an alliance, captured the Iwa ninja, and withdrawn.
Or left the captives for Konoha, retreated, and returned later with reinforcements to reclaim their pride.
There were countless ways to handle it.
Even if Roshi had been suspicious, he wouldn't have attacked allies without proof.
So why release the Iwa prisoners? Why drop the pretense and rush to die?
They gained nothing—except to deepen confusion.
Genma, unaware of Roshi's full thoughts, saw only the worsening situation.
"Roshi," he said grimly, "the Suna has turned against us. We should return to Konoha immediately and report to Hokage-sama."
His face was tense. He feared that the entire western front might already have suffered losses.
It was a reasonable, cautious plan. The safest choice.
But Roshi felt an unease—something about this didn't fit.
Still, Genma's reasoning was valid. The information had to reach the village.
"Genma," Roshi said after a pause, "take your team and return first."
Genma frowned. "And Team 5?"
"We'll continue the mission."
Genma blinked in disbelief. "Continue? In this situation?"
"Because these people weren't just enemies," Roshi said, his eyes narrowing. "They were seeking death. Dying as Sunagakure ninja."
He looked down at the corpses.
"From the first ambush, to their final charge—it all points to deliberate sacrifice. I believe this is part of an enemy's scheme."
"Though I don't know how Iwagakure reacted so fast, or how they could anticipate—"
He stopped mid-thought. No, not anticipate.
Pieces began connecting in his mind.
The kidnapping of the Kumogakure envoy—Obito might have been involved, but perhaps he wasn't the only one moving the pieces.
The constant harassment the envoy faced, this Iwagakure ambush… it was too coordinated.
Behind it all—
Iwagakure had likely been stoking the flames all along.
A faint, bitter smile touched Roshi's lips. "That old fox Ōnoki… what a scheme."
If they died, Konoha would suspect Suna.
If they lived, Konoha would still suspect Suna.
Either way, the alliance would fracture.
"I believe this is Iwagakure's trap," Roshi said quietly, "but we can't afford to trust blindly. The Village cannot bear the price of misplaced faith."
He'd sorted the situation out as best he could.
Given his knowledge—and his instincts—he leaned toward believing that the real Sunagakure remained an ally.
The enemy's suicidal behavior was proof enough.
Genma's jaw tightened. His team's mission was to ensure Roshi's safe arrival at Sunagakure.
To abandon that now would mean failure. But continuing was perilous.
"Then…" Genma offered, "let Anko and Itachi return to report. The three of us will accompany you to Sunagakure."
Roshi shook his head. "Your teleportation technique will get you back to Konoha the fastest—"
"But we can't use it repeatedly in such a short time," Genma interrupted sharply. "And we can't warp straight from Konoha to Sunagakure, either."
Roshi nodded, conceding the point. "Entering Sunagakure through Ichinoten will take us past their border outpost. I'll judge whether to proceed or retreat based on how they react."
"Your task," he said firmly, "is to return to the Village and report everything—the battle, the ambush involving Sunagakure forces, and my preliminary conclusion. This intelligence outweighs our mission."
"The stability of the western front comes first."
Genma, Raidō, and Iwashi exchanged silent looks. They understood.
Finally, they chose to withdraw.
As they departed, Roshi turned to his remaining teammates.
A flicker of guilt crossed his expression. "I'm sorry. This decision… is dangerous."
Anko snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "What are you talking about, Roshi? We're shinobi. Danger's part of the job."
She smirked. "You're the captain—just give the order, and we'll see it through."
Itachi nodded quietly. "Anko-senpai is right."
Roshi smiled faintly, saying no more.
Team 5 pressed on.
The journey fell into silence, the air tense and dry.
At last, the canyon's exit came into view.
Ahead lay the only path to Sunagakure—the treacherous Ichinoten Gorge, a narrow pass flanked by sheer cliffs.
As they stepped onto the rocky terrain leading toward the entrance, still several hundred meters from that narrow crevice—
A gust of hot wind swept over them, thick with sand.
Then, as if conjured from the desert itself, figures began rising from the scorching ground ahead—dozens of them, emerging in perfect formation.
A full Sunagakure unit.
Their numbers far exceeded the "patrol team" from before.
Their stances were sharp, their killing intent palpable.
The leading Jonin, Baki, narrowed his eyes at the three Konoha headbands glinting under the sun. His gaze fixed on Roshi.
"Konoha shinobi?" His voice was wary, edged with tension.
"What… are you doing here?"
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