Half a Shade

Deep in the dense forest on the western border of the Land of Fire.

The four of them had been following the route marked in the intelligence report for the better part of the day, arriving at the target area in the afternoon.

Kitahara Kaede stood on a high slope, his gaze sweeping across the woodland ahead.

Quiet.

Too quiet.

It was as if no one had ever set foot in this forest.

Nawaki edged closer, lowering his voice.

"Master, this place... it doesn't look like there's any unusual activity here."

He scratched the back of his head.

"Did the intel get it wrong?"

Kitahara Kaede did not answer immediately.

The Intelligence Division would not make such a low-level mistake.

Since this area was marked as having unusual activity, someone must have been here.

But everything before them was excessively clean.

No footprints, no broken branches, no remnants of campfires; it was as if someone had deliberately tidied the place up.

Being too normal was the most abnormal thing of all.

"Scout in three directions."

Kitahara Kaede jumped down from the slope and beckoned to the three of them.

"Two-hundred-meter radius. Watch your feet, watch above you, watch for anything unnatural. Report back here in twenty minutes."

The two genin acknowledged the order and scattered to the left and right.

Nawaki was just about to step away—

"Nawaki."

"Yeah?"

Kitahara Kaede looked at him.

"Watch out for explosive tags."

Nawaki froze for a moment, subconsciously glancing around, but there wasn't a soul in sight.

"Would there be—"

"Under rocks, in the gaps of tree roots, at the base of shrubs."

Kitahara Kaede's tone was flat.

"The places you think wouldn't have anything."

Nawaki swallowed the rest of his sentence.

Three months of training had etched one realization into his bones: whatever his master said, he was never wrong.

He nodded earnestly.

"Understood."

He turned and ran into the shrubbery on the right flank.

Kitahara Kaede watched his back disappear into the thicket.

Then he turned his head and slowly circled the perimeter of the clearing.

The more he looked, the more something felt wrong.

But he couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was.

Ten minutes later.

Kitahara Kaede turned his head and saw Nawaki emerging from a gap in the shrubs.

Crouched low, his footsteps muffled, he trotted up to him.

"Found something?"

"Found it."

Nawaki's voice was very low, but his eyes were shining.

He picked up a branch and drew a simple diagram on the ground.

"There are Chain Explosive Tags under the shrubbery on the right flank."

Kitahara Kaede didn't speak, signaling him to continue.

Nawaki drew a circle on the ground.

"The first one is hidden under a rock at the base of a shrub."

He paused, as if organizing his thoughts.

"There's fresh soil under the rock, a different color from the surrounding area."

"How much of a difference?"

"Half a shade."

Kitahara Kaede's brow twitched.

Half a shade.

Three months ago, Nawaki wouldn't have even noticed that level of detail.

"I didn't touch it," Nawaki continued, drawing two more circles with the branch. "I walked around it and found two more similar ones. The spacing between the three tags is very even, and the shrub branches in the middle had been pushed aside and put back—the direction of the breaks is consistent, all facing inward."

He looked up.

"They're chained. Step on one, and the rest will go off together."

Kitahara Kaede looked at the diagram on the ground.

The difference in soil color, half a shade.

The orientation of the broken branches.

The assessment of the Chain Explosive Tags layout.

Taken individually, these were all basics taught during training.

But to combine them and capture every single detail in a real mission environment—that was the skill of survival.

Kitahara Kaede knew one thing clearly.

If not for these three months of training.

If he hadn't been the one leading the team.

If no one had reminded him to watch for explosive tags.

Given Nawaki's personality, the first thing he would have done upon arriving was charge into the core area.

He would have stepped on it, and that would have been the end of it.

Twelve years old, one step.

And then Tsunade would be waiting in Konoha for someone who would never return.

Kitahara Kaede withdrew his gaze.

"Well done."

Nawaki froze for a second.

He had been with his master for three months, and he could count the number of times he'd heard those four words on one hand.

"Heh heh..."

"Did you estimate the array's coverage?"

Nawaki stopped grinning and said seriously, "About a twenty-meter fan-shaped area from the front entrance inward. I didn't dare probe any deeper."

"That's enough."

Kitahara Kaede stood up.

"Wait for the other two to return."

Not long after, the two genin returned one after the other.

The tall one spoke first: "Captain, there are signs of life on the left flank. A fire pit, a water source that's been used, and footprints."

The short one added: "The footprints aren't very fresh, three to five days old. At least four or five people."

Kitahara Kaede nodded.

With all the information pieced together, the answer was clear.

Someone had come ahead of time, laid the Chain Explosive Tags, and then cleared out completely.

No garrison left, no hidden sentries.

Just a death trap.

They were waiting for the Konoha reconnaissance team.

A four-man squad, mostly genin, stepping into that fan-shaped area—

There wouldn't be a single survivor.

"Mission objective confirmed. Sweep the perimeter one more time, and if there's nothing new, we pull out. Back—"

In the forest to the northwest, the birdsong stopped.

All at once, as if something had choked them all at the same time.

Kitahara Kaede's pupils constricted.

"Scatter—!"

He shoved Nawaki behind a large tree on the right and pushed off the ground with his feet.

Three kunai wrapped in explosive tags shot down from the canopy, pinning the spot where they had just been standing.

Boom—

The explosion tore up half the shrubbery, and figures surged out from three sides through the smoke and dust.

Eight people.

Dark gray ninja uniforms, masks covering their mouths and noses, and headbands engraved with an hourglass.

Sunagakure.

The bearded man leading them held a short scimitar, glanced at Kitahara Kaede, and stood his ground.

"Konoha reconnaissance team."

Kitahara Kaede didn't respond.

His right hand hung at his side, lightning flickering between his fingers.

Chidori Sharp Spear thrust out—a bolt of lightning shot straight through the smoke, piercing a Sunagakure ninja on the flank who was in the middle of weaving hand signs.

The man's hand signs stopped at the third one, his body pinned to the tree trunk behind him.

The forest went quiet for a moment.

The bearded man's expression changed.

"Chidori Sharp Spear—it's him! How could a Jonin like him be leading this kind of mission!"

He roared at the men behind him.

It was too late.

Kitahara Kaede moved.

A shadow clone intercepted two chunin attempting to flank from the side, while his main body went straight for the core.

The bearded man raised his blade to block, but his scimitar snapped in two, and he was sent flying backward.

Total suppression.

His current strength was infinitely close to Kage-level; he didn't need a second strategy to deal with a squad of this caliber.

In the span of a single breath, four were down.

The remaining Sunagakure ninjas broke formation, fighting individually.

In the chaos, one Sunagakure ninja circled to Kitahara Kaede's rear right.

A kunai was thrown—silent, at a tricky angle, aimed straight for the back of his neck.

Nawaki saw it from over ten meters away.

His brain didn't process a thing.

His hand was faster than his thoughts—a shuriken flew from his grip.

It missed.

But the shuriken grazed the Sunagakure ninja's wrist, clipping the handle of the kunai.

Metal clashed, and the kunai's trajectory shifted by three inches.

Kitahara Kaede tilted his head to dodge, backhanding an elbow into the man's temple.

A dull thud, and he hit the ground.

Kitahara Kaede looked back.

Nawaki stood where he was, his hand still in the throwing position.

The two of them locked eyes.

Kitahara Kaede said nothing, turning to continue finishing off the rest.

But Nawaki saw it.

The corner of his master's mouth had twitched.

Eight Sunagakure ninjas, all dealt with.

It hadn't taken more than five minutes.

Kitahara Kaede finished rummaging through the last enemy's ninja tool pouch and tucked the recovered intelligence scroll into his pack.

"Let's go. Back to the village."

The four of them set off on the return journey.

As they walked out of the dense forest, the terrain gradually opened up.

The two genin walked in front, whispering to each other and glancing back at Kitahara Kaede from time to time, their eyes filled with the awe of those who had narrowly escaped death.

Nawaki walked beside Kitahara Kaede, having remained quiet the entire way.

After about a quarter of an hour, he finally spoke.

"Master."

"Hmm."

"Those explosive tags—if I hadn't spotted them, and we had walked in from the front..."

"You spotted them."

Nawaki walked with his head bowed for a few steps.

"But that shuriken I threw was off-target."

"It was off, but it was useful."

Kitahara Kaede did not slow his pace.

"Three months ago, you couldn't even react to a tripwire, yet today, you saved the situation in actual combat based on pure instinct."

He tilted his head and glanced at Nawaki.

"Do you think that's a lack of progress?"

Nawaki's mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back.

He remembered himself from before, lying facedown in the grass of the training ground.

Twenty minutes, killed seven times, trembling all over, unable to withstand even thirty percent of his master's strength.

Today was a real battlefield with real blades.

Eight Sunagakure ninja, led by two jonin.

He had survived.

The shuriken he threw had been off-target, yes—but it had shifted the trajectory of that kunai by three inches.

Nawaki sniffled and lifted his head.

"Master."

"Hmm."

"When we get back, I'm going to brag to my sister about this."

Kitahara Kaede shot him a sidelong glance.

Nawaki rubbed his hands together, his face finally returning to that cheeky, smart-aleck expression.

"I'll tell her I saved your life on the battlefield."

"Your shuriken was off-target."

"But it was useful—you said so yourself!"

Nawaki stiffened his neck, put his hands on his hips, and tilted his chin up.

"'Off-target but useful'—I'm going to repeat that word for word to my sister."

He cleared his throat, his expression suddenly shifting as he mimicked Kitahara Kaede's tone—

"'Nawaki performed brilliantly on the battlefield and saved me at a critical moment.'"

He lowered his voice, feigning deep gravity.

"My sister will definitely praise me to the skies."

Kitahara Kaede kicked him.

Nawaki stumbled, chuckled twice, and caught up.

After a few steps, he leaned in again.

"Master, I'm being serious."

"Hmm?"

"I want my sister to know—"

Nawaki scratched the back of his head, his tone suddenly losing its bounce.

"That I've become stronger."