Renjiro was in a state of free fall.
Far above the Sea of Death, with nothing but the open sky and the distant landmass below, he plummeted toward the earth at terrifying speed. His body cut through the air like a falling star, the misty silhouette of Kirigakure growing larger and larger with every passing second. What had once been a small, distant smudge on the horizon was now expanding, becoming clearer, the details of the coastline and towering mangrove trees now visible through the mist.
The wind howled, slamming against him, flattening his cloak against his back. His red shoulder-length locs fluttered wildly, strands whipping around his face as if trying to fight against the descent. He let out a sharp exhale, feeling the errant strands obstructing his vision.
'Tch. Should've tied my damn hair up.'
The sheer speed of his fall only increased, the air growing thinner, making it slightly harder to breathe. The pressure on his chest was immense, but nothing he couldn't handle. He adjusted his body slightly, shifting his weight to minimize resistance, but the sheer velocity of his descent continued to press against him like an invisible force.
"Now that I'm skydiving... how the hell am I going to land?"
The question echoed in his mind, more pressing now than ever. He hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. His Sharingan spun to life, analyzing the terrain below, rapidly scanning for a potential landing strategy.
'I could slow myself with elemental ninjutsu, he considered. A burst of wind could slow the fall. Water or fire blasts could create a last-minute cushion...'
He immediately discarded those ideas. Any large elemental burst would be too flashy, drawing attention and destructive alarming Kirigakure shinobi which was not what he wanted.
'Damn it. This might not have been my smartest idea after all.'
The ground was rushing toward him. His window of decision was rapidly closing.
His Sharingan flickered, pupils dilating as he scanned the surroundings. Then, he spotted it—a dense cluster of mangrove trees, their thick roots snaking through the brackish waters near the coastline. The sturdy branches stretched far and wide, forming a potential safety net if he could use it correctly.
A plan formed in his mind.
With a flicker of chakra, silver chains burst forth from his abdomen, unfurling like shining serpents. The Adamantine Chains, an inheritance of his Uzumaki blood, shot forward, moving at incredible speed.
Not to land— No, he was falling far too fast for that. Instead, the chains lashed out, wrapping around the thick mangrove trees.
The impact was immediate. His body lurched as the chains stretched, straining under the sheer momentum of his descent. It was like pulling a taut rubber band to its limit. The force of his fall transferred to the trees, causing several to snap with loud CRACKS, while others groaned under the pressure.
The chains slowed him, his landing was less forceful. He almost crashed into the softened, damp earth, a web of cracks splintering outward from the impact zone of the force he used. Dust, broken wood, and splinters of mangrove bark erupted into the air, obscuring him from view.
For a brief moment, all was still.
Then, Renjiro pulled himself up using his chains, allowing them to retract into his body. He took a single step forward, emerging from the dissipating cloud of dust—his red locs settling against his shoulders, his crimson Sharingan gleaming in the mist.
And in front of him…
Dozens of Kirigakure shinobi stood at the village entrance, staring at him.
"Isn't this a bit much for a welcoming party?" Renjiro thought dryly, his eyes sweeping over the assembled force.
=====
Tetsuo Arakane stood rigid at the front of the assembled Kirigakure forces, his grip tightening around the hilt of his kunai as he peered through the settling dust. The thick mist that eternally shrouded Kirigakure did little to mask the destruction that had just occurred at the entrance of the village. Mangrove trees—some as thick as a man's torso—had been snapped in half, their splintered remains jutting out at unnatural angles. Cracks spiderwebbed across the damp earth, a testament to the force of the impact. And at the centre of it all, emerging from the haze like some wraith of war, was a lone figure.
Tetsuo felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple despite the cool, damp air.
The first thing he noticed was the hair—a deep crimson, shoulder-length and slightly dishevelled, locks swaying slightly as the last of the debris settled around him. The second thing, the thing that made Tetsuo's stomach clench, was the eyes.
A Sharingan.
Those blood-red irises gleamed, their three tomoe spinning ever so slightly, lazily taking in the surroundings. Tetsuo had never seen one in person before, but he'd heard stories.
He had listened to war veterans whisper of how those eyes could pierce through any deception, how they could see your next move before you even made it, how they could steal your jutsu and use it against you before you had time to blink.
"An Uchiha?" Tetsuo's breath hitched. His thoughts ran wild.
'What the hell is an Uchiha doing here?'
The tension in the air was thick—a moment where no one moved, no one spoke. A silence that stretched impossibly long but lasted no more than a heartbeat.
Then, instinct took over.
"Attack!"
The order rang out, cutting through the uncertainty like a blade through flesh.
Tetsuo's body reacted before his mind could catch up. The kunai in his hand left his fingertips before he had even registered throwing it. All around him, the shinobi of Kirigakure moved as one, a tide of steel and chakra surging forward.
From the rooftops, loosed volleys of kunai and shuriken, their sharp edges glinting before vanishing into the mist. Jutsu ignited, hands flashing through seals— torrents of water, bursts of lightning—all aimed at the intruder.
Tetsuo's feet barely touched the ground as he dashed forward, his hands forming the necessary signs for a Water Release technique. The battlefield blurred around him as he closed in on the target, his heart pounding in his ears.
And then—
The stranger moved.
=====
The very instant the first kunai left the hands of the Kirigakure shinobi, the world around Renjiro slowed.
No—his mind simply processed it faster.
His gaze darted from one projectile to the next, tracing their exact paths in real time. Each kunai, each shuriken, each deadly arc of chakra-infused steel burned in his vision like a trail of red-hot embers.
A dozen weapons. No—more than that.
They were everywhere. Above. Below. Behind.
To the untrained eye, it was a deadly storm of death. To Renjiro, it was a puzzle waiting to be unravelled.
He moved.
His body twisted sideways, his head tilting just enough for a kunai to whistle past his ear. His left foot barely kissed the ground before he pivoted, letting a trio of shuriken slice through the empty air where his chest had been a fraction of a second ago.
One. Two. Three kunai zipped past his face, missing by mere centimetres. A well-aimed blade, meant to impale his heart, carved through the air, hitting nothing but mist as he leaned back, arching his spine in an impossible angle, before snapping forward and regaining his stance.
And then—
Something caught his eye.
Amidst the steel projectiles, something else was flying toward him—something white.
A flicker of realization sparked in his mind.
'That's not metal. That's— A bone?'
His eyes widened slightly, the Sharingan analyzing its spiral trajectory with inhuman precision.
But before he could finish the thought, his fingers snapped up, catching a kunai in midair. His gaze barely had time to flick down before he noticed the explosive tag wrapped around its hilt, the inked seals glowing ominously.
'Oh, hell no.'
His grip tightened for a split second, then he flung it back into the charging crowd.
"Boom!"
The explosion tore through the mist, rippling outward, sending several shinobi stumbling backwards. The shockwave was enough to push dust and debris into the air, momentarily disrupting their charge.
But then—
More.
More explosive tags.
Renjiro's Sharingan caught the flickering paper just as a dozen tagged kunai whistled toward him, their seals already activated.
"Tch. Persistent."
His body blurred. A flicker of movement.
And then he was gone.
The moment he vanished, the air detonated, a chain of explosions engulfing the spot where he had stood just a second ago. The earth trembled beneath the sheer force, smoke billowing up in thick clouds, obscuring everything from view.
High above the battlefield, Renjiro reappeared—perched on the branch of a half-broken mangrove tree, crouched low like a predator surveying its prey.
His eyes scanned the destruction below.
"Since when did Kirigakure attack first and ask questions later?"
A grim thought crept into his mind.
"Has Madara already gotten control of this place?"
If Madara had already extended his influence over Kirigakure, then this attack on a Hokage's messenger could mean something far more dangerous.
It could mean that whatever fragile ties Konoha and Kirigakure had been trying to establish were already crumbling.
The implications were unsettling.
But before he could delve deeper into the thought, a voice cut through the battlefield—deep, authoritative, undeniably commanding.
"Stand down!"
The weight behind those words was enough to freeze every shinobi in place. The hostility, the urgency—it all drained away in an instant.
A man emerged from the gathered forces.
His posture radiated authority. His dark grey hair was slicked back, his expression as sharp as a blade, his blue eyes piercing as they locked onto Renjiro.
The man exhaled, then spoke.
"My name is Junza Momochi, Jonin Commander of Kirigakure." His voice was even, measured—but it carried weight. "I apologize for the unwarranted attack."
The battlefield was silent now, save for the distant crash of waves against the rocky coastline. The mist coiled around them, shifting restlessly.
Junza studied Renjiro for a moment before continuing.
"We were not informed of your arrival," he said, his tone still calm but edged with the slight irritation of someone who had been caught off guard. "But now I understand—you're the Hokage's messenger."
Renjiro, still perched atop his branch, tilted his head slightly.
"Well." His lips quirked into a faint smirk. "That took long enough."
=====
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