The moment Shin'ya completed his hand seal, the ground beneath him abruptly gave way. A mud-covered hand burst from the earth, its iron-like grip locking onto his ankle.
"Damn!"
His pupils snapped shut as a tremendous force dragged him downward. The soil swallowed him alive, leaving only his head above the surface in an instant.
He watched helplessly as the "Shuji" puppet pierced by poisoned senbon dissolved into white mist on the morning breeze.
Earth Release: Decapitation in the Mind Technique!
And…
Shadow Clone!
A jōnin?!
Crushing soil squeezed his body as Shin'ya thrashed wildly, only to feel excruciating pain in his abdomen.
"Ugh…" His face contorted. Wooden splinters ruptured his organs, growing uncontrollably within him. Wooden fibers spread through his blood vessels, piercing every organ. With each heartbeat, new branches erupted from his wounds.
"Cough—"
Blood spouted, staining the earth red. Crimson seeped from his seven orifices, droplets falling from his chin into the mud.
"Puppet Technique, poisoned senbon, Sunagakure style," Shuji's calm voice appeared above him. He looked down at Shin'ya's severed head. "A rogue ninja?"
Shuji continued evenly: "The villagers of Shirakawa stole only a fraction of the loot, right? Where's the rest hidden? Not on your person… apparently."
"Anything you'd like to say? Perhaps your reasons for desertion? Helpful for my report." Shuji spoke casually. "If you don't, I'll make something up."
As the wooden branches tightened and strangled him, Shin'ya's eyes bulged, bloodshot. He tried to speak but only coughed blood into the mud, his throat making hoarse rasping sounds.
"Too… too… much… hardship… can't… see… hope…" His rasp, like grinding sand, trailed off.
The winds of war grew fiercer each year. Missions did not increase, yet the Wind Country daimyō's war chest dwindled. War was endless. Yet weak merchants lived more securely and prosperously than a ninja like him.
Why? Why must the strong struggle on the brink of life and death while ordinary people enjoyed peace? He could not tolerate it…
He'd fled Shirakawa amid the Third Great Ninja War's chaos, waited patiently until the Anbu left and the heat died down. He built a team, selected targets, and hoarded enough wealth to retire.
Then he eliminated his followers—they were unstable seeds. To retire safely, he had to clean up completely… He discovered the villagers could not resist and took advantage of the opportunity. Everything should have been seamless.
"Why…" Why before the finish line?
Damn villagers hid the fact that trackers were ninja. If… if he'd known they were ninja, he would never have been so careless…
Why was it ninja—those dispatched up the mountain to hunt bandits—and yet they were ordinary villagers? Ninja don't operate like this. Tracking bandits should follow caravan routes, find traces, and be detected by warning puppets en route—not triggered by common villagers…
The Land of Tea… he remembered vividly: endless green fields, warm sun, camellias swaying in the breeze. He'd build a villa there—white walls, red roof—breathe salty sea air each morning…
Now, all became a mirage. His vision blurred, Shuji's figure merging into a black silhouette in the dawn light.
A flash of cold steel. The head fell. Decapitation in the Mind Technique complete.
Shuji retrieved a scroll from his chest pocket and unfurled it, placing Shin'ya's head upon it. Forming seals, the scroll glowed as the severed head vanished, leaving only a flash of sealing runes. When dealing with a rogue ninja, protocol demanded returning the head. The Intelligence Unit would extract any information. High-value targets earned special reward; any outcome at least merited a base subsidy.
At that moment, Itachi appeared at the stronghold entrance.
"Negotiations concluded?"
"Yes. As you instructed, I negotiated with Shirakawa Kisuke and the decision-makers. We made clear that Konoha will keep silent on the Shirakawa incident and declare the bandits were eliminated by us." Itachi produced a cloth pouch. "This contains the surrendered loot, collected as directed."
Shuji accepted the pouch and stowed it. "Sweep the area. See if this Sunagakure rogue left anything else behind."
"We'll let the villagers dispose of the bodies later," Shuji added. Bodies were originally kept as proof to the River Country. Now unnecessary—a single rogue ninja head sufficed. The Intelligence Unit would confirm his ringleader status and guarantee mission completion.
A mere C-rank mission, yet they'd slain a ninja—far beyond expectations.
Itachi approached the scattered puppet remains but did not touch them. He swiftly formed seals, creating a shadow clone. The clone cautiously approached the wreckage, and as its fingers touched the wooden surface, the contact point turned blue-black. The toxin was not yet lethal enough to collapse the clone, so Itachi directed it to retrieve a scroll from the puppet's chest cavity.
The scroll was untainted. After confirming no traps, Itachi himself examined it.
"Senior, this is a sealing scroll."
"A tool-sealing type," Shuji nodded. "The rest of the treasure should be here." Unskilled in unsealing, he could only bring it back. He then produced a special small sealing tube and carefully collected some of Shin'ya's blood for storage. This blood would serve as the key to unlocking sealed items.
Chakra, a blend of spiritual and physical energy, when refined by ninja, left residue in cells. Thus, a ninja's blood could act as a summoning medium.
Similarly, before a blood's activity fully faded, it could break tool seals using a master of sealing techniques.
Stowing the sealing scroll in his pouch, Shuji thoroughly searched the stronghold. Finding nothing else, he brushed dust from his hands and turned to the boy with a relaxed smile: "Mission's virtually wrapped. Just need to report back."
Seeing Itachi still standing quietly, Shuji winked unexpectedly: "By the way, before we return, want to swing by Koizumi Town?"
"Swing by?" the eight-year-old tilted his head, confusion in his eyes.
"We've finished the mission—ought to unwind a bit, right?" Shuji laughed, patting Itachi's shoulder gently.
"If… you'd like." Itachi's voice was steady.
Shuji crouched to meet his eye level. "That wasn't an order. No need for 'if you'd like.' Just tell me if you want to go."
Uchiha Itachi was silent for a moment. The morning breeze drifted through the ruins, carrying lingering blood and fresh foliage scents. His gaze seemed to pass beyond the broken palisade toward the faint caravan route below.
"…Dango?" he asked softly.
"Great idea!" Shuji stood, stretching as the dawn light traced his edges. "Let's go try Koizumi Town's dango. While we're out, we can pick up some local specialties."
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild