A cold, damp underground cavern echoed with the steady tapping of water droplets against the rocks. The air reeked of blood and rust.
A ninja wearing a battered tanuki mask was bound tightly to a stone pillar with coarse chakra chains. His body was covered in wounds, and he was barely breathing, yet his eyes still held the dead, stubborn resolve unique to members of Root.
Kakashi Sakuya stood before him like a judge returned from hell. He had just finished an "interrogation." There had been no shouting, no needless torture—only precisely applied mental pressure and the torment of Sharingan Genjutsu. His hands were barely stained with blood, yet this cold, efficient method of extracting information, one that struck straight at the soul, was far more devastating than physical torture.
Nadeshiko Haku stood watch at the cave entrance. She could hear the faint sounds from within and the captive's occasional, uncontrollable groans of pain. A trace of concern flickered in her icy blue eyes—not sympathy for the enemy, but worry for Shuoyue. The closer he came to his target for revenge, the colder the aura around him grew, as if the darkness were gradually swallowing him.
Inside the cave, Shuoyue slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his Three-Tomoe Sharingan turned slowly as he stared into the captive's unfocused eyes.
"One last time. Where is Root gathering now?"
The Root member's mental defenses had long since been crushed by endless cycles of illusion. His lips trembled as he murmured like a man in a dream, "...The Northern Territory... the 'Nameless Canyon,' where snow falls all year... underground... an abandoned former Akatsuki hideout..."
Having obtained the exact location, Shuoyue's Sharingan vanished in an instant. His expression didn't change, as though he had merely confirmed some ordinary piece of information. He turned and strode toward the cave entrance without hesitation.
"Wait, Shuoyue!" Haku hurried over and stepped in front of him, her voice urgent. "You got it out of him? Are you planning to go alone right now?"
Shuoyue didn't stop. He only turned to go around her. "Yes."
"No! It's too dangerous!" Haku spread her arms, firmly blocking his way. Her icy blue eyes fixed on him. "That's a hideout, not a band of stragglers! How many people are inside? What kinds of traps and defenses do they have? We know nothing! You should report this to Lord Hokage immediately and request Anbu support! That's the safest course of action!"
Shuoyue finally stopped and looked at her. His gaze was cold and stubborn, like ice that had never melted in ten thousand years. "Report it to the Hokage? And then what? Wait for approval? Make a plan? Finally, charge in with a big show of force and let them flee at the first sign of trouble again, just like five years ago, so they can disappear into even deeper shadows?"
His voice held restrained scorn and an unshakable resolve. "This is our best chance. They only moved recently; their defenses may not be ready. I have to go. Now."
"But—" "No buts." Shuoyue cut her off, his tone decisive. "This is my fight. My grudge. It has nothing to do with you."
His words struck Haku like an icicle. Her face paled, but the hurt was quickly replaced by an even stronger emotion—anger, and unyielding resolve.
"Nothing to do with me?" Haku's voice rose sharply, trembling slightly. "Kakashi Sakuya! Have you really made it through these five years all alone? Who's been standing behind you?!"
She stepped forward, unafraid to meet his cold gaze. "If you insist on going, fine. But I won't let you go to your death alone! Either knock me out right now, or kill me. Otherwise, I'm going with you!"
Shuoyue furrowed his brow as he looked at the woman standing before him, her gaze unyielding, refusing to back down. He knew how capable Haku was, and he knew she meant what she said.
Time passed in the cold standoff.
At last, extreme irritation—and a hint of... an indescribably complicated emotion—flashed across Shuoyue's eyes. He abruptly turned away and tossed out a curt reply:
"...Suit yourself. Come if you can keep up."
With that, he flickered out of sight, becoming a streak of shadow as he raced from the cave and headed north.
Haku watched his resolute back, bit her lip, and immediately poured chakra into her legs to follow at full speed, without the slightest hesitation.
The two figures, one behind the other, shot through the rain like arrows loosed from a bow, heading without hesitation toward the unknown and perilous lair deep in the Northern Territory's frozen wastes—the hideout of Root.
The snowstorm ahead grew stronger, as if foreshadowing the hardships and cruelty of the road before them. Haku's eyes were filled with worry, but more than anything, with firm resolve. Whatever lay ahead, she would never let him face it alone.
And in some corner of Shuoyue's heart, frozen over by the flames of revenge, this reckless devotion may have stirred the faintest ripple. But his pace never slowed.
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