Blood

Blood

Deep within the stronghold, Shin'ya sat on a smoothly worn stone. He looked utterly unremarkable—of average build, dressed in ordinary coarse cloth, the sort who would be overlooked the moment he blended into a crowd. Only when he raised his eyes toward Shirakawa Kisuke did something inscrutable flicker through them.

"The Daimyo Palace has sent people again." Shirakawa Kisuke's voice was dry as he stared straight at Shin'ya. "You... should go into hiding again."

Koichiro and several other young men immediately grumbled in dissatisfaction, shouting, "What are we afraid of?" Yet Shin'ya unexpectedly nodded, his manner even seeming sincere. "You're right. We should lie low." He dipped his head slightly.

The tension in Shirakawa Kisuke's shoulders eased a fraction, almost imperceptibly. "It won't be easy out there. Tonight... have something to eat and drink before you leave." He gestured for the people behind him to set down their loads.

"Thank you..." The curve of Shin'ya's lips deepened, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Koichiro, call everyone over. Eat your fill, rest your feet, and leave at daybreak."

The stronghold quickly became lively.

Many faces showed reluctance at having to leave again, but Shin'ya clearly knew how to quiet them.

During the meal, Shirakawa Kisuke and those he had brought were exceptionally warm and hospitable, constantly urging them to drink and eat while repeatedly reminding them to be careful on the road.

After several rounds of wine, unnatural flushes rose on Koichiro and the others' faces, and their eyes began to glaze over.

Shin'ya had also drunk quite a bit, yet his eyes remained clear, and an almost imperceptible smile lingered at the corner of his mouth.

Shirakawa Kisuke saw it, and his heart sank bit by bit—the smile seemed to conceal something cold beneath it.

The night deepened, and a pallid moon hung from the treetops. Only when snores began rising and falling throughout the stronghold did Shirakawa Kisuke slowly stand and wave toward the black forest shadows.

A faint rustling came from the bushes, like snakes slithering over fallen leaves.

Led by Shirakawa Sosuke, the villagers emerged soundlessly from the shadows, gripping sharpened farm tools.

At first, some still wore hesitant expressions, but when the first short scream tore through the night's silence, their faces swiftly froze, leaving only numb resolve.

"They chose this path themselves." Old Sosuke's voice was not loud, yet it pierced like an ice pick.

"They robbed merchant caravans and dragged the entire village into a fire pit." He swept his gaze over the crowd. "Think of your empty rice jars. Think of the goods you couldn't sell."

Screams, the dull thuds of blunt weapons striking flesh, and dying whimpers mixed together as a thick stench of blood spread through the cold air.

Sosuke's voice remained exceptionally clear amid the chaos. "Once they kill off the small merchant caravans, sooner or later they'll go after the traders who do business with us."

"Once someone has tasted the pleasure of getting something for nothing, they can never turn back."

"This is retribution for listening to outsiders' instigation!"

The final words were practically forced out through clenched teeth.

Under the moonlight, dark red liquid dripped from the sickles and pitchforks in the villagers' hands, each drop striking the mud with a dull tap, tap.

The old man walked to Shin'ya's "corpse" and viciously stabbed it several times with his pitchfork before straightening and calling out, "Gather the things."

He did not even look at the pale-faced Shirakawa Kisuke beside him.

There was not much wealth in the stronghold. Shirakawa Sosuke gave everyone who had acted that night a share, then gathered the rest together.

"These, along with these..." The old man pointed at the bodies strewn across the ground, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Take them to settle the matter, Kisuke. Tell those two ninja that this is all that remained. The rest was probably squandered long ago by the bandits."

"Yes... yes." Shirakawa Kisuke's voice shook badly.

"This ends here. No one is to mention it again." The old man's gaze scraped across every villager's face like a blade. "Say the bandits were eliminated by Konoha ninja. That is what we tell everyone." Only after everyone nodded stiffly did he look away.

Shirakawa Village's group carried their pitifully meager "spoils" and silently vanished into the deepest darkness before dawn. The stronghold was left with only dead silence and the pungent smell of blood.

When a trace of gray-white appeared on the horizon, a figure slowly sat up from the pile of corpses. Shin'ya brushed at his bloodstained lapels and looked toward the faintly brightening eastern sky, a teasing smile curving his lips.

"I was originally planning to raise them for a while longer..." he murmured, his voice carrying a trace of mockery. "This saves me the trouble."

He looked around, his gaze passing over the corpses of villagers who had once obeyed his every word. His smile deepened. "Now I can go live peacefully in the Land of Tea."

"A ninja?" A cool voice suddenly rang out.

Shin'ya's entire body stiffened, and he abruptly looked up.

A youth in dark green ninja attire stood soundlessly atop the stronghold's broken wooden fence. His forehead protector reflected a cold glint in the early dawn.

He floated down as lightly as a leaf.

Shin'ya's pupils contracted sharply. His body instantly retreated several steps, every muscle tightening as he stared fixedly at the Konoha symbol on the other's forehead.

"A group of ordinary people slipped from the Land of Rivers into the Land of Fire, then fled to the Land of Rain. Sure enough, someone was pulling the strings behind them." Shuji's voice was calm, but his gaze was probing.

Shin'ya's Adam's apple bobbed, but his voice was surprisingly steady. "A band of petty thieves causing trouble is, at most, a C-rank mission. Fewer than twenty people—the Land of Rivers' reward wouldn't exceed fifty thousand ryo." His eyes remained locked on Shuji's hands, wary of any sign of hand seals.

"This money..." As he spoke, he subtly adjusted his breathing. "It isn't enough to make two ninja risk their lives. I never acted directly, and my name isn't on the Land of Rivers' wanted list. Report the truth and let me go; the mission will still count as complete." He spread his hands slightly, signaling that he posed no immediate threat. "Why risk your life over so little? Battles between ninja have too many variables."

"So you know the market well." Shuji's fingers lightly rested on the ninja tool pouch at his waist. "You deliberately kept the scale under control, ensuring the bounty wasn't enough to trigger conflict between ninja?"

The curve of Shin'ya's mouth was barely visible. "The bodies on the ground are enough for you to report back."

"In theory, yes." Shuji nodded. "Konoha, Sunagakure, and Amegakure would all accept commissions from the Land of Rivers. To calculate the reward so precisely... are you from Sunagakure? Or Amegakure?"

"Let me guess. Being this cautious, you are..."

Before he could finish, a "corpse" behind Shuji suddenly sprang up. Wood chips flew everywhere, revealing the cold Humanoid Puppet beneath.

The puppet's joints let out piercing clicks. Its mouth opened, and dozens of Senbon gleaming with a ghostly blue sheen shot forth!

Shuji reacted instantly, turning around to meet the attack.

At the moment his attention was drawn to the puppet, Shin'ya's hands had already become a blurred afterimage!

His wide sleeves flared like the spread hood of a venomous snake, and over a hundred poisoned Senbon burst out through the dim light.

At the same time, his chest swelled high, as though the surrounding air had been sucked away in an instant.

Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!

A violent current of air erupted from Shin'ya's mouth, sweeping up the Poison Senbon that filled the sky.

The wind gave the hidden weapons terrifying speed and penetrating power, forming a howling net of death that covered Shuji's entire back!

Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft—

The dense sounds of needles entering flesh were like rain battering banana leaves.

Shuji's body jerked violently, then began to tremble. His eyes, cheeks, neck, chest, and limbs... countless tiny blossoms of blood burst open in an instant.

Dark blue venom rapidly spread around the wounds. He staggered one step, then toppled stiffly forward and slammed heavily onto the cold mud, motionless.

Shirakawa Village lay shrouded in the thin morning mist before dawn. The air was cold and damp, carrying the scent of earth and vegetation, yet it could not conceal the faint smell of rust.

Itachi stood at the village entrance, watching the villagers silently enter the village with several crude bundles in their hands.

There was no grief on their faces, only heavy exhaustion and numbness.

Shirakawa Kisuke walked last, his steps unsteady as though he might collapse at any moment.

Itachi's appearance was like a stone thrown into stagnant water. The group stopped, and every gaze settled on the small figure.

Shirakawa Sosuke parted the crowd and stepped to the front. His wrinkled face resembled a piece of dried bark, and his gaze was sharp and cold.

"Lord ninja of Konoha," the old man said hoarsely, "the bandits have already been eliminated. There isn't much left. It's all here." He pointed at the bundles. "The village chief will explain the situation to you."

Itachi's gaze swept across the villagers' clothes, trousers, and farm tools stained with dark red marks.

His eyes finally returned to Sosuke's face. His obsidian-like eyes were calm and still, while his clear voice cut through the morning mist.

"Senior Shuji asked me to relay a message to everyone."

The village entrance fell completely silent. Even their breathing seemed subdued.

"First, Konoha knows the full course of what happened in the stronghold last night."

The words struck the crowd like a block of ice. Several villagers visibly swayed.

Shirakawa Kisuke suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with terror.

Old Sosuke's face instantly darkened, and veins bulged on the back of the hand gripping his cane.

Without any change in his tone, Itachi continued, "Second, you must all give the same account to outsiders: the bandits were tracked down and eliminated by Konoha ninja Shuji and me, Uchiha Itachi. The villagers of Shirakawa Village provided necessary assistance during the operation."

He paused and looked into Sosuke's eyes. "Third, your act of handling your own internal affairs falls within the scope of village matters. Konoha will neither comment on it nor interfere. The condition is that this matter ends completely, with no further trouble affecting the trade route or the client."

Sosuke stared hard at Itachi, his chest rising and falling violently. After a long while, he forced out a voice through clenched teeth. "...Understood." The sound was like sandpaper scraping.

Itachi nodded slightly. Without another word, he turned around. His small figure silently merged into the thinning mist and swiftly headed toward the stronghold.

The villagers remained frozen in place. Only after Itachi's figure had vanished completely did suppressed commotion and whispers erupt among them, fear and lingering dread winding around them like cold vines.

Sosuke slammed his cane against the ground and shouted sharply, "All of you, shut up! Do as the ninja lord said! Clean this up, then get back to what you should be doing! If anyone dares let even half a word of today's events slip out—"

His bloodshot eyes swept over the crowd. He did not speak the rest, but the chill in his gaze left everyone silent with fear.

Shirakawa Kisuke looked at Sosuke, his lips moving slightly. In the end, he said nothing; his hunched back merely seemed to cave in a little further.

(End of chapter)