Shadow of the Sand Ninja

Ringo spotted that person on his way back to his residence.

He hadn't seen the face—he had seen the chakra. With the Card Slot's scan range pushed to its maximum, the system marked a signal when he turned into an alley between the training ground and the apartment. A purple chakra signal, coming from the Sand Ninja's direction. It wasn't at the level of an ordinary jonin. It carried the scent of blood.

Maki.

A Sand Ninja jonin, Temari and Kankuro's instructor. Ringo had seen him once in the stands during the preliminaries. Back then, he had stood behind Gaara with his arms crossed, looking like a guard.

But now, at eleven at night, Maki wasn't at the Sand Ninja compound. He was standing in a dark Konoha alley with someone wearing a conical hat. The hat hid the person's face, leaving only his chin exposed. It was sharp, his skin pale, and a faint curve hung at the corner of his lips. It wasn't a smile—it was anticipation.

Ringo pressed himself against the wall at the mouth of the alley. He shut off Steam, lowered the Card Slot to its weakest output, and made his breathing as quiet as possible.

He didn't dare move.

Maki's voice was very low, but the alley was too quiet. So quiet that even the cracks in the walls seemed to carry his words.

"The plan remains unchanged. When the finals begin, release Shukaku. The target is the Third Hokage. The Sound Ninja will handle the barrier. The Sand Ninja will handle the frontal assault. The battlefield will be the spectator stands."

The man in the hat laughed. Not a chuckle—it was a breathy sound from deep in his throat, like a snake flicking its tongue.

"Hehe—I'm really looking forward to seeing Sarutobi-sensei's expression. When he sees his own student standing beside his corpse."

Sarutobi-sensei.

Ringo's nails dug into the cracks between the bricks.

Orochimaru. It wasn't anyone else—it was Orochimaru. One of the Three Sannin, on the same level as Jiraiya, a rogue ninja personally released by the Third Hokage. He had joined forces with the Sand Ninja. They weren't joining forces against one person—they were targeting Konoha. The finals weren't an exam. They were a war. Shukaku, the monster inside Gaara, wasn't meant to fight the examinees. It was meant to fight the Third Hokage.

Maki and Orochimaru said a few more things, but Ringo didn't catch them. It wasn't because they were too quiet—his heartbeat was too loud. His ears were filled with the sound of blood rushing upward, drowning out even the Card Slot's notification chimes.

By the time he forced his focus back, the alley was already empty. Maki and Orochimaru were gone. Only the trash can in the corner was still swaying slightly. Not from the wind, but from the lingering shockwave of their chakra.

Ringo didn't leave right away. He leaned against the wall and took deep breaths. Not to calm himself, but to force himself to stay calm. He looked down at the Card Slot.

The system displayed a line of text he had never seen before.

"Detected—intelligence-grade conversation—automatic recording—saved—playback—yes/no?"

It wasn't a fragment. It wasn't a drop. It was a recording. The system could record conversations—not chakra, but sound. He hadn't activated this function. The system had judged it on its own. The system had judged that this conversation wasn't for synthesis. It was for survival.

Ringo selected "Playback."

Maki's voice came from the Card Slot, exactly the same as it had sounded in the alley. Every word, every pause, that suppressed tone that still couldn't conceal the killing intent—the system had recorded it all. Including Orochimaru's final line: "What expression will Sarutobi-sensei have?"

That was enough. This was evidence.

But Ringo didn't rush straight to the Hokage's office. It wasn't that he didn't want to. He couldn't. A genin barging into the Hokage's office in the middle of the night, using an invisible system recording to accuse the Sand Ninja and one of the legendary Three Sannin—who would believe him? It wasn't even a question of whether they would believe him. If the Sand Ninja discovered that he knew, they might act early. Not on the day of the finals, but now.

He had to pretend nothing had happened. He had to return to his residence, lie in bed, and wait for dawn. Then he would find Kakashi.

Kakashi would believe him. Not because Kakashi trusted him, but because Kakashi's Sharingan could tell whether someone was lying. Ringo didn't need to lie. He only needed to play the recording. Kakashi could judge the rest.

He left the alley. Konoha's streets were quiet at night. Only one out of every three streetlights was on; the other two were broken and hadn't been repaired yet. He passed beneath a working streetlight, and its glow fell across his neck. The shadow of the Stabilizer Bag swayed across his chest.

He turned onto a road that didn't lead back to his residence.

The Hyuga clan.

He wasn't going in. He only stopped outside the gate for a moment. The Hyuga clan's walls were high. The Byakugan couldn't see beyond the walls, but standing outside, Ringo's Card Slot scan range could just reach into the courtyard. He found Hinata's chakra. It wasn't in a combat state. It was asleep. Quiet, warm, not sharp like the chakra of the other Hyuga clan members. It was soft.

She was home. She was safe.

Ringo stood outside the Hyuga clan gates for another half minute. It wasn't that he couldn't bear to leave—he was memorizing the warmth of that chakra. Not as data, but as a feeling. In case tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, something happened, he needed to remember that her chakra had been warm tonight.

Ringo turned around. On the way back to his residence, he walked faster than before. Not out of fear, but urgency. He was anxious for dawn. Anxious to find Kakashi. Anxious to make this someone else's burden before the finals, not his alone.

Back at the apartment, he closed the door without turning on the lights. Moonlight streamed in through the window. It was the same moon as last night on the rooftop. But tonight, the moon wasn't for a date. It was for watching the direction of the Sand Ninja compound. He sat on the edge of the bed, opened the Card Slot to full power, and locked its scan range on the Sand Ninja compound. Maki's chakra, Gaara's chakra, Temari's chakra, and Kankuro's chakra—four signals, all inside the compound. There was no movement for now.

But only for now.

Ringo opened the Card Slot. Twelve white fragments, eight purple fragments, six gold fragments, one orange fragment. There were also the Respect Fragment Neji had given him, Jiraiya's Sage Art Fragment, the Stabilizer Bag, and the recording stored in the system.

He had once thought those fragments were for winning the finals. For fighting Neji, fighting Gaara, proving himself in the Chunin Exams. But now, those fragments weren't for winning. They were for protecting someone when war broke out. Not with Steam—with his life. If he had to choose, his life could be spent before hers.

Not Konoha. Not the Hokage. It was the person who had said on the rooftop, "Right now is when I want to see you."

"No matter who I have to fight—Neji, Gaara, even Orochimaru—I have to win. Not for the exam. For this village, and for her."

Moonlight cast his shadow against the wall. The shadow was thin, but the line of his shoulders was more than an inch broader than it had been a month ago.