A question mark slowly appeared above Sakumo's head.
What news? Haven't you been with me this whole time?
Where did this intelligence come from?
"Ah, Sakumo, you don't get it. This guy is a descendant of the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki. He should be the Cloud Shinobi's candidate Jinchūriki!"
Takahashi Yū pointed at the unconscious Fukai as he spoke.
Sakumo also studied Fukai's face carefully. His sharply divided green and white hair was certainly distinctive.
"He doesn't look like the Jinchūriki who died in the camp, but he does bear some resemblance to the first Eight-Tails Jinchuriki."
"Who cares? I'm absolutely certain he's a candidate Jinchūriki, but the Eight-Tails isn't inside him!"
Takahashi Yū waved a hand, cutting off Sakumo's recollections, and spoke with absolute certainty.
He slung Fukai over his shoulder and called for Sakumo to head back with him.
"But Sakumo, how do you know what the first Eight-Tails Jinchuriki looked like?"
Following effortlessly with wind-nature chakra in the slipstream Takahashi Yū created, Sakumo gave him a strange look.
"Photographs, Takahashi. Don't be so behind the times! People our age need to keep up too."
"Oh, sorry. Spending time with you always makes me forget your age. You're only sixteen, if I remember right?"
Takahashi Yū's full-speed pace jostled Fukai senseless over his shoulder.
By nightfall, they still hadn't reached camp, so they set up camp at Sakumo's suggestion.
Bound so tightly in solidified killing intent that even breathing was difficult, Fukai had now regained consciousness and spoke to Takahashi Yū, who was leaning against a tree.
"Why are you tying me up? Kumogakure has no prisoners!"
Takahashi Yū sat beside the fire Sakumo had built, enjoying its warmth amid the mountains' sharp difference between daytime and nighttime temperatures.
"Oh, right. Thanks for reminding me."
At that, Takahashi