Chapter 87: The Illusion of Victory
The nearly invisible wires pulled taut, scraping seventeen of Minato's prized kunai into a single, useless heap. The tactical advantage he had enjoyed moments before had evaporated. Kagenori hadn't been merely defending; he had been conducting a meticulous inventory, waiting for the moment Minato would exhaust the markers in his pouch.
Minato's expression darkened, a rare flicker of self-recrimination in his blue eyes. I was careless. Far too careless. His string of effortless victories since mastering the Flying Thunder God had bred a subtle complacency. Even while reminding himself not to underestimate Kagenori, the sight of his opponent seemingly on the defensive had lulled him into a false sense of control. He had played right into Kagenori's hands.
He took a deep, steadying breath. Regret was a luxury he couldn't afford mid-battle. His gaze fell to the single kunai remaining in his hand, his knuckles tightening around the hilt. His eyes sharpened, his entire being focusing into a single point of intent.
But Kagenori was already moving.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A torrent of chakra gathered in Kagenori's throat before erupting as a massive orb of roaring flame, scorching the air as it hurtled toward Minato.
Acting on pure instinct, Minato reacted. A kunai flew from his hand, not at Kagenori, but in an arc that would carry it through the heart of the inferno. The moment it cleared the flames, he would teleport to it, using the fireball as a screen for a point-blank attack.
"Thunder Breathing, Fourth Form: Distant Thunder!"
But Kagenori was a step ahead. A cascade of lightning enveloped him as he shot forward, not toward Minato's original position, but on an intercept course with the kunai flying through the fire. He was aiming to destroy Minato's last mobile marker before he could even use it.
Yet Minato didn't appear there. In a flash of spatial distortion, he materialized not by the airborne kunai, but beside the pile of seventeen bound together on the ground.
"Wind Release: Gale Palm!"
He exhaled sharply, shaping the chakra in his breath into a blade of concentrated wind, aiming to sever the transparent wires that held his kunai captive.
A cold smile touched Kagenori's lips. "I've been waiting for that!"
The shadow clone guarding the pile didn't hesitate. Its ninjato cleared the sheath in a blur.
"Thunder Breathing, Second Form: Rice Spirit!"
With the clone as its epicenter, a storm of lightning-fast slashes erupted in every direction, a protective dome of crackling energy. The wind blade from Minato's Gale Palm was shredded into harmless gusts before it could even touch the wires.
Minato was trapped. He couldn't teleport to the kunai guarded by Kagenori's true body, and the pile was now protected by this omnidirectional lightning barrier. To attempt a retrieval was to be diced to pieces. He was forced into a desperate, graceful dance on the edge of the lightning storm, his body moving on pure reflex to avoid the lashing arcs of energy. A single touch would mean paralysis, and certain defeat.
The moment the technique subsided, Minato flashed back, putting a wide berth between himself and the two Kageneri. His breath was slightly labored as he assessed the situation. Kagenori's true body was now casually twirling the lone kunai in his hand, while the shadow clone stood sentinel over the main pile. The Flying Thunder God, his greatest asset, had been effectively neutralized.
Just as Minato's mind raced for a countermeasure, Kagenori's shadow clone dissolved into a wisp of white smoke. The real Kagenori then tossed the kunai in his hand onto the ground with a dismissive clatter, turned, and began to walk away.
Minato stared, bewildered. "Kagenori! Where are you going? The fight isn't over!"
A voice, calm and final, came from an entirely different direction. "It is."
The Kagenori he had been watching, the one who had just thrown down the kunai, began to waver like a mirage, its form dissolving into nothingness. Minato's head snapped toward the source of the voice. There, leaning against a tree at the edge of the clearing, was the real Kagenori, looking as if he had been observing the entire spectacle from a distance.
Minato's blood ran cold.
An illusion? When...?
He had been so careful, meticulously avoiding direct eye contact with the Sharingan throughout the entire fight. There should have been no opening.
He stood in silence for a long minute, replaying the battle in his mind's eye. Then, a rueful, understanding smile tugged at his lips.
"So it was then."
The only moment his guard had truly faltered was when Kagenori had stated the exact number of his kunai. The shock of that revelation, the sheer intimacy of that knowledge, had broken his concentration for a split second. His eyes had instinctively sought out Kagenori's in that moment of stunned vulnerability. That was all it had taken.
"It's utterly insidious. One can never lower their guard around him for even an instant." The thought wasn't filled with bitterness, but with a grim respect. "But even without the Genjutsu... I had already lost."
He hadn't been defeated by a superior technique, but by superior strategy. Kagenori had outthought him. Instead of discouragement, a fresh wave of determination ignited within him. This battle had been a lesson. He would never again allow an opponent to so easily account for his resources. The vulnerability of a finite number of markers was a flaw he would have to address.
With a long exhale, Minato moved through the clearing, gathering his scattered kunai and carefully storing them away. He took one last look at the empty hillside before disappearing in a flicker of yellow light.
Back in his quarters, Kagenori dissected the encounter. Minato's speed and the versatility of the Flying Thunder God were a formidable combination. Without a reaction speed that surpassed Minato's own, there were few clean ways to counter him. For now, Minato relied heavily on his signature technique, his ninjutsu arsenal being limited to basic Wind Release—a clear indication that Jiraiya's tutelage had focused more on foundational taijutsu and his unique space-time ninjutsu. The thought of Minato one day mastering Sage Mode was a deeply troubling prospect.
And now, having learned from this defeat, Minato would return more cautious, more adaptable. The next time they crossed paths would be even more dangerous.
...
Two days later, Kagenori stood in the command tent. Orochimaru handed him a sealed scroll.
"Your transfer has been approved," Orochimaru rasped. "Report to the Hokage upon your return to Konoha. He will provide your official appointment letter for the Land of Grass."
Kagenori gave a curt nod. "Understood. My thanks, Sensei."
"There is one other matter," Orochimaru continued, a sly glint in his eyes. "You are aware of the directive. As a Jonin, you are expected to lead a team of Genin."
Kagenori's face immediately soured. "Orochimaru-sensei, I must refuse. I don't have the time to nursemaid children on a battlefield."
Orochimaru shook his head slowly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know you have no desire for it. But consider your position. You are, ostensibly, a loyal member of the Hokage's faction. Refusing a direct order does not inspire trust."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense. "Finding an Uzumaki survivor is only the first step. Convincing Konoha's leadership to discard a trained and loyal kunoichi like Kushina in favor of a stranger you drag out of the wilderness? That requires more than just power. It requires influence. It requires the perception of unwavering loyalty. You must be the model shinobi in their eyes, at least until the decision is made. This makes you a more valuable asset than the problem you might present. It gives them a reason to choose your candidate. They will always choose the path of least resistance and greatest value."
The words struck Kagenori with the force of a physical blow. His flippant attitude vanished, replaced by a grim, calculating seriousness. Orochimaru was right. This wasn't about babysitting; it was a political maneuver, another layer in the intricate facade he had to maintain to save Kushina.
"…I understand," Kagenori said, his voice low and resolved. The game had just become infinitely more complex.