The air in the cave grew increasingly stifling.
It was not naturally stuffy—Deidara had caused it himself.
After carving the third mark into the stone wall just inside the entrance, he stopped. By the fifth day, he had already begun to feel restless.
He had originally made the marks to keep track of the days, but the number of days no longer mattered. He just wanted to hear someone approaching from outside.
He withdrew the hand clutching his kunai from the wall, paced around the cave for a while, sat down, then got back up and paced another lap.
His left hand repeatedly reached into and pulled out of his clay pouch, checking the amount and confirming that his supplies were sufficient. In truth, he checked every half day. The clay supply remained stable, and his chakra had recovered to more than ninety percent.
He checked the wound on his chest again. After unwrapping the bandages, only a faint closed scar remained on the surface of his skin. New tissue had already covered the wound.
He wrapped the bandages back around himself, roughly pulling them tight enough to make him frown.
He sat on a rock and stared at the cave entrance.
The boulder blocked the opening, and the light leaking through the cracks had shifted at an angle, indicating that the sun was moving.
He was waiting for the moment that would decide whether he should keep waiting.
Today was already the fifth day, and Yunju had not appeared.
He did not know whether that man was truly still alive. He did not know whether he had encountered a second attack along the way, or whether Tobi had already dealt with him completely.
He had no clues and no source of information. All he could do was crouch in