"Clang."
Kakuzu kicked the iron door open, sending it crashing into the wall and knocking down a chunk of white plaster.
Yoru walked in front, the soles of his leather shoes stepping through mop water that had not yet dried in the hallway, making sticky, squelching sounds.
He chewed on a hard piece of gum and blew a bubble. It burst against his lips with a pop, leaving a little stuck to the tip of his nose.
He casually wiped it off with his thumb.
Ōnoki was bent over his desk, his ass sticking up in the air.
He held a fuzzy magnifying glass, staring at a map covered in grease spots.
The old man was not wearing his Tsuchikage hat today. His bald forehead was covered in a glistening layer of oily sweat.
The floor heating in the room was turned up too high. The stuffiness made every breath feel scorching in the throat.
"Old man, stop staring at that worthless map."
Yoru walked over and dropped onto the battered guest sofa. The cushion let out a deflating hiss.
A cloud of dust flew up.
"Four-Eyes Kabuto ran off. He took a few dead bodies' bones with him to the Land of Lightning."
The magnifying glass in Ōnoki's hand shook, nearly striking his front teeth.
"He ran? What the hell is that old snake Orochimaru good for? He can't even keep an eye on one disciple?"
He straightened up and randomly wiped the sweat from his face with an ink-spotted sleeve. His mouth still reeked of garlic from his recent meal.
"He's busy boiling a hundred thousand White Zetsu into fertilizer. He doesn't have time."
Yoru propped his legs on the coffee table and knocked a chunk of dried mud off his shoe sole.
The mud landed on the