Matsamaru's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.
"What's this…? He knew the absolute counter to the technique... Haru… san…"
Haru was already walking away, fading into the sea of villagers. His red robe drifted behind him like smoke, swallowed by the lantern-lit crowd.
Matsamaru lowered his gaze, a quiet, knowing smile curling on his lips.
"Of course..." he whispered to himself.
But before the thought could settle, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
CRASH.
The world snapped back to the present.
Matsamaru dropped to his knees in the heart of the shattered village. The air thick with dust. Burning debris drifted like snow around him. Wooden beams collapsed. Roof tiles clattered.
And in front of him—
A towering figure stood, cloaked in chains that rattled like a curse. Rippled tattoos spiraled across his face like war paint. His eyes were empty.
Endo.
The present had come crashing in.
Matsamaru's smile twitched… then stretched wider—
Bit by bit—
Until it broke into a maniacal laugh.
"OF COURSE!!" he roared, the sound echoing through the wreckage.
CLANG—CRASH—BOOM!!
Endo's chains lashed out, ripping through the crumbling buildings beside Matsamaru, shattering the ground beneath them. The force of the attack sent a shockwave through the air.
But Matsamaru didn't stop laughing.
He flipped backward—once, twice—with effortless motion despite his battered frame.
His sword shifted into his left hand, blood dripping from its edge.
His body was wrecked.
His face torn, bruised beyond recognition.
His right eye—swollen shut.
Blood streamed from his mouth like paint on cracked glass.
And yet…
He stood, barely upright, grinning through the mess.
His laughter now a haunting melody against the chaos.
A swordsman on the brink.
One more move left.
---
Matsamaru's maniacal laughter stretched wider, echoing like a broken record. His voice repeated, each time louder, more unhinged—
"Of course… of course… OF COURSE!"
Endo, mid-attack, finally stopped—his chains floating like serpents in the thick air around him.
He squinted at Matsamaru, bloodied and battered but unfazed.
"Oi… are you okay?" Endo muttered, confused. "Has he lost too much blood…? He's not reacting anymore… Not even attacking. What is this?"
Matsamaru bent down, giggling to himself, his voice a whisper that grew into a chant—
"…of course… of course… OF COURSE! OF COURSE!!"
Then, he stopped.
And said something different.
"Haru-san was right all along… I tried to trap you. I planned for your strategy. But YOU—"
His blood-smeared face twisted into a crazed smile.
"YOU ARE A MASTERMIND!!"
He raised his head toward the sky. Arms wide open. His sword dropped from his grasp, landing with a metallic thud. His eyes, though swollen, shimmered in the sunlight reflecting through the dust.
"The only solution to fight as a swordmaster… is not a plan… not a strategy…"
He screamed—
"IT'S MADNESS! CARELESSNESS! THE ONLY SOLUTION… IS CARELESSNESS!!"
Endo narrowed his eyes. "What…?"
Matsamaru's madness was not unfamiliar—it always came when he hit a breakthrough. A dangerous truth that nearly shattered his mind. And now, what Haru had once told him… had finally sunk in.
Endo raised his arm. The chains responded instantly, slithering toward Matsamaru with explosive speed.
But Matsamaru didn't flinch.
Instead—he caught the chain with his bare, bloodied hand.
The chain yanked him into the air. He laughed wildly as he was dragged, wind rushing past him—but in his mind, it was silent. Completely calm.
"Thank you, Haru. Thank you. I hope I get to tell you that. This chance… this fight… is thanks to you. I won't die. Not until I see you again."
His memories poured in like water breaking through a dam.
—The first training.
—Their first encounter.
—The lantern-lit festivals.
—The day their squad was officially named at the palace.
Though they had spoken only twice… Matsamaru had always admired Haru. Always followed his steps—striving to be strong, even with his flaws, his setbacks.
He smiled.
Tears rolled down his cheek.
Because now… he understood.
To be careless is to be free.
To fight without fear.
To win without logic.
Even if it meant dying—he would overwhelm his opponent with madness. That was the way.
The way of the swordmaster.
---
The chain hurled Matsamaru across the battlefield—his body tearing through walls, smashing rooftops. Each crash sent tremors through the ground. One final impact triggered an enormous shockwave, bursting through the remains of shattered buildings and rippling outward—reaching even Chimaru and the others.
Chimaru, crouched low, face bruised and bloodied, looked up just in time to see a figure tumbling toward him—Matsamaru.
His broken form rolled violently across the cracked earth, coming to a stop just a few feet away. Chimaru's breath hitched as he took in Matsamaru's state—blood soaking his robes, his face a mangled shadow of its former self.
From a distance, Henji stood alone amidst the wreckage. The ruins around him formed an almost perfect circle—devastation shaped like art. His eyes narrowed.
He noticed the collapsing debris above Chimaru, still falling. Without thinking, he bolted toward them.
As he neared, Matsamaru shifted weakly, his remaining eye twitching open.
"You've been beaten too?" he whispered, voice cracking, blood spilling from his lips.
Chimaru gave a small, broken smile. "Oh, this? Shino and Akiro. What about you? Where's Haru? Did someone else…?"
But Matsamaru didn't answer. His eyes shifted. He saw Henji running.
"He… Henji…" he rasped.
Henji reached him, pushing Chimaru aside as he dropped to his knees beside Matsamaru, gripping his shoulder. "What happened!? MATSAMARU-SAN!!"
Henji's voice roared across the war-torn street, echoing toward the battlefield—where Akiro and Shino fought.
Their opponent: Sakura—the once-small monkey, now a monstrous gorilla, veins pulsing, ripple tattoos glowing violently across his skin. And behind him, calm and composed, stood his master—Sanji Koruko, a man in a straw hat whose presence bent the wind.
Akiro fought like the earth itself obeyed him—commanding stone, metal, wood to rise and crash like tides. His face remained blank, but his will never wavered.
He turned to Shino and said, "Go check the situation. I'll handle this with Hiro."
Shino scoffed. "Hell no. I'm the leader. I fight with my squad."
From behind, Hiro, clashing directly with Sanji, flipped backward and shouted mid-dodge, "Uh, Shino-san? Honestly… checking on your squad feels more like leadership to me."
Akiro nodded, summoning planks of debris that launched at the gorilla. Some missed—but others struck, splintering loudly against its thick hide.
Shino growled under his breath, slid his dagger back into his belt, and turned with a hiss.
And when he arrived—
His eyes widened.
What he saw stole the breath from his lungs.
---
Matsamaru coughed—blood spilling slightly from his lips as he gripped his side, barely holding himself upright. His breathing was shallow, rattling through clenched teeth as his vision blurred in and out.
Shino dropped to his knees beside him, eyes wide with urgency.
"Oi! Matsamaru! What happened? Where's Haru?"
Matsamaru's voice cracked through the pain, his words barely audible.
"He's… a target…"
Shino blinked, confused.
"A target? What does that mean—what are you talking about?"
But before Matsamaru could answer, Chimaru stood up from the rubble nearby. His usually lazy demeanor was gone. His face was blank—cold. Watching. Thinking.
Shino noticed immediately. His brows furrowed.
"Chimaru…?"
He turned, noticing Henji standing just a few steps away, staring into the dirt, unmoving—expressionless.
"Henji… Chimaru… what's going on?" Shino asked again, quieter this time, tension rising in his chest.
Chimaru didn't say a word. He turned his back and slowly walked away into the shadows of the broken buildings.
Shino turned desperately to Henji.
"Henji… Talk to me. Please."
A heavy silence.
Then, finally, Henji spoke—his voice low and burdened.
"Haru-san… He's the mission."
"What?" Shino whispered.
Henji looked up, eyes dark.
"He's the target. What they're after… It's Haru. He's already trapped—somewhere beyond the village, but still inside it… A hidden realm. A world inside the seams of this one."
Shino's world shattered in that moment.
He turned to Matsamaru, his expression firm, searching for confirmation. Matsamaru gave a slow, exhausted nod—blood sliding down the corner of his mouth, mixing with dust and ash. His breathing was shallow, but his eyes were still alive.
Henji's voice broke the tension. "He might be dead... These people—" he glanced at the ruined buildings around them, "—they're probably S-rank rogue ninjas."
For a moment, silence.
Then Shino stood, the weight of realization crashing down on him. His usual calm, angry expression faded—replaced by something deeper. Confusion... grief... awe?
He stared at the crumbling wall of a collapsed building in front of him, voice barely audible.
"…He's just a human…"
His eyes narrowed, lips barely moving now—muttering under his breath, again and again—
"He's just… a human…"
But the wreckage, the devastation, the blood-drenched earth beneath them said otherwise.