The thick, clammy fog clung to the coastal woodland like a chronic illness, refusing to disperse. Hatake Sakumo's squad had just silently eliminated a Kirigakure reconnaissance post and was making its way back along a game trail carpeted with moss and rotting leaves. Lingering traces of fresh Water Release chakra mingled with the faintest scent of blood-the only evidence of the brief clash.
"To the left, the third cedar, on a branch eight meters above ground. Residual chakra traces. One person passed through roughly three hours ago, Chunin level, heading southeast." Hizashi Hyuga's pure white eyes calmly scanned the mist. His voice was steady and flat, as though he were merely stating established facts. His Byakugan pierced every obstruction, taking in all the unnatural fluctuations of energy around them.
"Understood." Hatake Sakumo's response from the head of the squad was brief. His pace did not change in the slightest.
Bringing up the rear, Miwa Kato casually flexed her wrists, but her gaze combed through every inch of their rear and flanks. She grumbled under her breath, "This damned humidity. A few more days here, and I'll be able to wring water out of my kunai. Hey, Shinji, could you develop some household uses for that Fire Release of yours besides cutting people down? Drying clothes, for example?"
Walking in the middle of the formation, Shinji felt his damp combat uniform clinging to his skin and gave a helpless twitch of his lips. Several consecutive days of intense infiltration and elimination missions had begun to accustom him to Miwako's peculiar resilience—her ability to find amusement in hardship even while dancing on a knife's edge. "Miwako, chakra is a resource for combat."
"I know, you rigid little brat." Miwako pursed her lips, then added with a hint of approval, "Still, you timed