A month had passed since Minato's evaluation. In that time, Sakumo had personally taken charge of his training. Day after day, Minato pushed himself harder — refining his movements, learning the ways of the ANBU, and slowly adapting to the cold, precise world that existed beneath Konoha's calm surface.
Sakumo quickly noticed Minato's sharp instincts. The boy's reaction speed and precision were exceptional, but his fighting style still lacked refinement. During one training session, Sakumo had advised him,
"Minato, with your reflexes, you need a weapon that fits your movements — not the other way around. For you, the best choice would be either a short sword or a long kunai."
At first, Minato leaned toward the long kunai. It felt more familiar, easier to handle. But as the weeks passed, he tried using Sakumo's own short sword — the White Fang's blade — and found something clicked. His movement flowed better, faster, more balanced.
When Sakumo saw him moving through drills with the short blade, a faint smile crossed his face. "Looks like you've found your weapon," he said.
Minato nodded quietly, wiping the sweat from his face.
That morning, the atmosphere felt different. The air itself seemed heavier. Sakumo stood before him, expression calm but serious.
"Alright, Minato. Today is your test mission."
Minato looked up, eyes slightly wide. "My… test mission?"
"Yes," Sakumo replied. "You've trained hard this month. Now it's time to see how you perform in the field."
Minato swallowed. This was it — his first real mission.
Sakumo reached into his vest and handed him a scroll. "Here. This is your mission file. Your task is to track and neutralize the target."
Minato unrolled the scroll, scanning it carefully. The target was an escaped enemy shinobi — a death-row prisoner who had somehow "stolen" vital information before fleeing the village's outer perimeter.
His eyes stopped at the word neutralize. It sat heavy on the page.
Sakumo noticed. He sighed softly. "Neutralize doesn't necessarily mean kill," he said. "Of course, that's an option — but capturing him and recovering the stolen information would be even better. Still…" his tone hardened slightly, "understand this — capturing someone alive is far more difficult than killing them. The enemy will do everything to escape, including trying to kill you. When the time comes… don't hesitate."
Minato stood silently for a moment, then nodded. His gaze hardened. "Yes, sir."
Sakumo gave him a small nod of approval. "Go."
With that, Minato disappeared in a yellow flicker.
The forest outside Konoha was quiet. The faint rustle of leaves mixed with the distant chirping of birds, masking the tension that hung in the air. Minato crouched on a tree branch, scanning the ground below.
He had been tracking the fugitive for over two hours, following broken branches, disturbed soil, and faint traces of chakra. The man was fast, experienced — but not careful enough.
Minato landed softly on the forest floor and closed his eyes for a moment, sensing the flow of air and sound. A faint disturbance — footsteps, light but hurried — came from the northwest.
He dashed forward, his movements silent.
The forest blurred around him as he weaved through the trees. Soon, he caught sight of a figure ahead — tall, wearing torn grey armor with a Kusa forehead protector scratched across the middle.
"There you are…" Minato muttered under his breath.
He threw a kunai to test the man's awareness. It sliced through the air — but the fugitive spun instantly, deflecting it with a shuriken.
"Tch. Konoha's after me already, huh?" the man hissed, dropping into a battle stance.
Minato appeared behind him in a flicker, swinging his short blade — the enemy barely managed to block, sparks flying from the clash.
"Fast, kid," the fugitive said through clenched teeth, pushing Minato back. "But not fast enough to kill me."
Minato didn't answer. He adjusted his stance and lunged again, his movements smoother now. Their weapons clashed again and again — metal ringing through the forest. The enemy fought brutally, wide strikes and heavy kicks, while Minato stayed agile, weaving between attacks and countering with precise cuts.
A well-timed strike from Minato sliced across the man's arm, forcing him to drop a weapon. The fugitive growled, jumping back and forming hand seals.
"Wind Release: Gale Palm!"
The powerful gust sent Minato flying backward, slamming into a tree trunk. He coughed, his short sword clattering beside him.
"Damn it…" he muttered, pushing himself up. The man was already running — but Minato flickered forward again, reappearing in front of him with a sharp, determined look.
"You're not escaping."
He rushed forward, trading blows again. The battle dragged on — neither gaining a clear advantage. The fugitive grew more desperate, throwing explosive tags and shuriken wildly, while Minato focused on precision, dodging with minimal movement.
Finally, during a close exchange, Minato caught the man's arm mid-swing and drove his blade into his abdomen. The enemy froze, eyes wide in shock.
For a moment, neither moved.
The man let out a choked laugh, blood dripping from his mouth. "Heh… you've got the look… the look of someone who just killed for the first time…"
Minato's hands trembled. The man collapsed to his knees, then fell forward, motionless.
Silence filled the forest again.
Minato stood there for a few seconds, staring blankly at the body. The short sword was still in his hand, stained with blood. Slowly, he exhaled and let himself fall backward, landing flat on the ground, staring up at the canopy.
The forest was quiet — too quiet. The smell of iron lingered in the air.
One tear slipped from his eye, tracing down his cheek. He didn't know if it was grief, guilt, or relief.
After a long moment, Minato sat up, wiped his face, and stood. Without a word, he turned back toward the village.
The mission was complete.
--------
Deep beneath Konoha, in the dimly lit chambers of the Root base, Danzo sat behind his desk, waiting. The air was heavy with tension.
It wasn't long before an ANBU operative appeared, kneeling before him.
"Danzo-sama, another squad has gone missing."
Danzo's expression darkened. "Another one?"
"Yes. This squad was the one en route to Amegakure."
Danzo leaned back in his chair, his face composed but his aura sharp. Inside, though, he was burning with anger. He already knew what had happened.
A month ago, he had learned that the boy who humiliated him — Shanks — was an independent genin with no team. He didn't know how the Hokage allowed that, but to him, it was convenient. It meant he could have the boy eliminated quietly, without drawing suspicion.
So he sent a small team — three skilled chunin — to deal with the problem. But none of them returned.
Since then, something like a silent war had begun between him and Shanks. Every time Danzo sent a team outside the village, at least one of them never returned.
No matter how careful he was, no matter which route they took — they were intercepted.
He didn't understand how Shanks always seemed to know their movements, but he had a suspicion — and it terrified him.
If only he knew the truth. Shanks had his Observation Haki stretched across the entire village, sensing everything, everyone. If he wanted, he could have ended all of Danzo's Root operatives in a single night. But for now, he didn't. He was waiting — waiting for Danzo himself to make a move.
Danzo exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing.
"I regret offending that little monster," he muttered. "I never imagined he'd grow this powerful…"
The room fell silent again, the faint flicker of candlelight casting long, shifting shadows across the stone walls.