"Kiba, do you realize what you're saying?"
Hearing her student's words, Kurenai-sensei couldn't help but sigh. It wasn't that she hadn't expected someone with Kiba's personality to make such a request, but many things are easier said than done.
"Actually, I didn't understand a lot of what you guys were just talking about... but if we don't go, a lot of people might die, right?"
"That..."
Kurenai found herself unable to refute him. No matter how many complex political issues she explained, how many interpersonal relationships she analyzed, or how many profound truths she spoke, one fact remained unchangeable: if they didn't go, the kidnapped residents of the fishing village were as good as dead.
Anyone can preach grand theories, and it is human nature to be cautious. However, Kurenai understood all too well that if one hesitates too much when faced with a crisis, they become paralyzed, missing the optimal moment for decision.
Dammit... to be reminded of such a simple truth by a student. If it were Asuma or Kakashi in this emergency, they wouldn't shrink back; they would carry on with the mission.
Having made up her mind, Kurenai closed her beautiful eyes for a brief moment before snapping them open. "Then we move out. We'll aim to reach the island by morning. Simultaneously, we'll send a request for backup to the Hokage, explaining the situation clearly and demanding immediate reinforcements."
"A request for backup? But..."
"I see. A time-lag tactic," Yuki nodded with a smile. "Even if the intel leaks to Konoha's enemies, because we'll already be at the island by tomorrow morning, they won't have enough time to dispose of the hostages and the facility."
This was indeed one of the safest approaches available. They would infiltrate the island immediately to save lives while relying on the eventual arrival of Konoha reinforcements to ensure they wouldn't end up stranded and helpless.
"I need to be very clear about one thing." Kurenai's expression became grim, her voice devoid of any humor. "The rank of this mission is officially upgraded to B-rank. There is a real risk of death. If you feel you aren't up to the task, I can go alone—"
"Are you kidding?! How could we let Kurenai-sensei go alone!" Kiba shouted, cutting her off rudely.
"Indeed. Since we are members of Team 8, there is no reason to let our teacher face danger alone," Shino added with a slight nod, a rare hint of emotion flickering in his usually calm voice.
"Then it's settled... we head for the island, rescue the captives, and while we're at it, show that one-eyed old man what we're made of."
As Yuki spoke, he extended his right hand. The other three members of Team 8—Kurenai, Shino, and Kiba—understood the gesture and placed their hands on top of his.
Seeing this, Noriaki finally let out a massive sigh of relief. To him, the mission had seemed doomed, yet it had taken this unexpected turn...
Thus, Team 8 decided to rush toward the southern coast through the night. Since Noriaki was slower, Yuki, Kiba, and Shino took turns carrying him on their backs, supplementing their stamina with a large supply of Food Pills Kiba had brought along.
As dawn approached, on an isolated island about a mile or two off the coast, a visibly resentful Shinji finally returned to the secret base of the "Akahane-shu" (Red Feather Group).
From the outside, the entrance to the base looked like an ordinary pile of rubble—nothing unusual for an island constantly lashed by sea winds.
However, after Shinji performed a series of specific hand seals, the rocks before him let out a low rumble and slid apart, exposing a hidden underground passage to the salty morning air.
"Captain Shinji, you've returned."
As Shinji entered the vast underground space, a short, stout old man scurried over, attempting an elegant bow. His tone and demeanor betrayed a clear, profound fear of the man who was significantly younger than him.
"Is the Boss in? I need to see him."
The underground chamber was lined with many doors leading to various sections. Shinji's nose twitched as he glanced at one room from which the faint scent of blood wafted.
By now, the Second Captain of the Akahane-shu had removed his hood. He was a young-looking man with cold features, his black hair disheveled from the long hours spent under the mask.
"Lord Ryuichi is in the laboratory. If you have business, Lord Shinji, perhaps you should..."
"Hmph."
Without letting the old man finish, Shinji turned impatiently toward the "laboratory," with the elder scurrying behind him.
"How many 'white rats' are left?"
"Six remain. But at this rate, they won't last a week. It's almost time to go out and gather more."
Tsk. Dying so fast. A bunch of useless trash. Shinji's eyes flickered at the chief researcher's words.
The two pushed open the next door, entering a large, modern-looking room filled with jars, bottles, and a dizzying array of instruments—the laboratory.
At a desk on the side of the room sat a tall man with flowing long hair. Judging by his sharp profile, he was about thirty years old, yet he carried the weary aura of someone who had survived countless storms.
Before Shinji could even reach the desk, the man looked up and spoke softly: "The mission failed?"
"Hmph!" Shinji snorted in lieu of an answer. Given his foul mood, anyone could have reached that conclusion.
"This is your failure. Report to Lord Hidemitsu yourself."
Ryuichi, the man responsible for leading the entire Akahane-shu—and the strongest warrior serving the Fire Daimyo, Madoka Hidemitsu—spoke with a voice as cold as ice, seemingly unbothered by Shinji's failure.
"Lord Hidemitsu, Lord Hidemitsu... Brother, do you enjoy being that hermaphrodite's dog so much?"
Shinji gritted his teeth, the murderous intent in his eyes intensifying. He clearly harbored a deep resentment toward the Daimyo he referred to as a "hermaphrodite."
"Shinji, do you remember the teachings we received as children?"
Ryuichi slowly closed his book and turned his back to his brother, his tone unreadable.
How could I forget... In an instant, a sentence Shinji had heard so often he wanted to vomit surfaced in his mind.
"Those of 'Root' have no names, no feelings. No past, and no future. Only the mission exists in our hearts."
From the moment they were taken as orphans into that sunless underground base, those words had been carved into their marrow like a cursed seal, unforgettable until death.
"It was Lord Hidemitsu who took us in as foster sons and gave names and status to people like us. Do you still have complaints?"
"Foster sons? Ha... we are nothing more than two chess pieces gifted to the Daimyo by that man. We are the discarded waste of Root. The hateful thing is, it took me years after leaving Root to realize that."
Shinji hesitated for a moment as he tried to speak a certain name. He let out a sigh, dropped the subject, and left the laboratory, leaving behind only the silhouette of a lonely back.
"Sigh... fine. I'll be the one to contact Lord Hidemitsu."
Shaking his head, Ryuichi also left the lab, heading toward the communications room equipped with a specialized long-range device...