A Konoha squad, backs to a gnarled, ancient oak, formed a trembling defensive ring. Their numbers had been halved. Before them, a dozen Kiri shinobi advanced with the grim finality of executioners, their water-style jutsus already coalescing into glistening spears in their hands.
A young chunin, his arm hanging at a sickening angle, closed his eyes, whispering a final prayer to fallen comrades.
"FWOMP."
It was not a sound of arrival, but of displaced air. In the centre of the clearing, where there had been nothing, a three-pronged kunai now stood embedded in the earth, its handle still vibrating. And standing beside it, as if he had been there all along, was a Konoha's Yellow Flash.
Minato did not radiate fury. He exuded a terrifying, placid calm. His eyes took in the entire scene in a single, comprehensive glance. Three Kiri shinobi were on the verge of releasing their water spears into the huddled Konoha defenders. They never finished the hand seals.
In a blink of golden light, Minato vanished.
"Shunshin-crack!"
He reappeared directly behind the first Kiri attacker. A single, precise chop to the neck, a dull thwack, and the man crumpled like a sack of stones.
The second shinobi had time for his eyes to widen a fraction before a foot swept his legs out from under him and a knuckle struck a specific nerve cluster on his temple with a soft tap. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
The third began to turn, a strangled cry of warning dying in his throat as Minato's palm connected with his back, a gentle-looking push that carried a wave of disruptive chakra.
"Umph."
The man's body went rigid, then slack, joining his comrades on the leaf-strewn floor.
The entire sequence lasted less than two seconds.
A stunned silence fell, broken only by the drip of water from the trees and a choked sob of relief from the Konoha chunin.
"Y-Yellow Flash-sama…" he whispered, the title a prayer of gratitude.
The remaining Kiri shinobi froze, their confidence shattering against the immovable object of Konoha's rising weapon.
But Minato was already gone. The yellow flash flickered, and the clearing was empty save for the rescued, the defeated, and the kunai that had been his anchor.
Across the bleeding borderlands, a montage of salvation unfolded, a symphony conducted at the speed of light.
On a rocky outcrop, a Konoha swordsman parried frantically against a Kiri brute twice his size, the clang-clang-shriek of their blades ringing out.
A yellow flash. Minato appeared between them, his hand closing around the Kiri shinobi's wrist.
A twist, a disarming snap, and the massive sword clattered to the ground. A second movement, two blunt strikes to the torso, and the brute was down.
"FWOMP."
He vanished, reappearing instantly beside a wounded chunin who was moments from being run through by two mist-nin. He didn't attack them; he simply placed a hand on the chunin's shoulder, and they were both gone, teleporting ten meters away to safety. The two Kiri shinobi stumbled forward, stabbing empty air.
"FWOMP."
On a high ridge, an entire Kiri ambush squad lay in wait. A kunai landed in their midst. Before their leader could shout, Minato was among them. His own kunai flew, not to kill, but to disarm and disable. The others could take care of the rest.
"Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!"Kunais were released, a weapon hand was pinned to a tree by fabric, a leg was grazed to collapse its owner. In three heartbeats, the squad was neutralised.
"FWOMP."
He materialised beside a medic team desperately trying to evacuate a litter. A massive Water Dragon, summoned from a hidden foe, roared toward them, its maw open. The medics screamed, shielding their patients.
Minato's expression didn't change.
He threw a marked kunai directly into the dragon's path. As it reached the apex of its arc, he was there, standing on the air for a single, impossible moment before placing a paper bomb tagged with a Hiraishin formula on the watery beast's head. He teleported back to the medics.
"BOOM!"
The dragon exploded into a harmless shower of rain, drenching the stunned rescuers.
Through it all, his breathing remained even, a calm centre in a hurricane of violence. He was a balm and a scalpel, soothing Konoha's wounds while surgically removing the infection.
His final stop in this sector was a grim, familiar clearing—the place where Commander Isao had made his stand. The aftermath was a sombre tableau.
Bodies, both Konoha and Kiri, lay where they had fallen. The survivors moved with the hollow-eyed shock of those who had stared into the abyss.
Minato appeared without fanfare next to Isao, who was kneeling, checking the pulse of a fallen comrade. The commander started, then his weary face collapsed into profound relief.
"Lord Minato. Thank you."
Minato's eyes, however, were already scanning the survivors, his heart clenching with a father's and a sensei's fear. He saw tired chunin, wounded jonin, but no shock of white hair, no goggled Uchiha, no kind-eyed medic-nin.
"Isao. My students… Kakashi, Obito, Rin. Were they with you?"
Isao's face fell further. "They were. I ordered them to break away before the main Kiri force hit. Their mission was to find an escape route."
A cold knot tightened in Minato's stomach, but his exterior remained the picture of composure. He gave a curt nod.
A Yamanaka shinobi approached, kneeling and forming the hand seal for the Mind Body Transmission.
"Link me to the Hokage," Minato said, his voice quiet but firm.
The shinobi's eyes glazed over. A moment later, Hiruzen's voice, etched with the fatigue of a long night, echoed in Minato's mind.
"Minato. Report."
"Lord Third, the enemy forces around this sector have been neutralised. Mission complete."
"Casualties? Your assessment of the attackers?" Hiruzen's mental voice was laced with a grim need for data.
"Significant casualties among our forward units," Minato reported. "The attackers were highly coordinated, hitting multiple points simultaneously. But their behaviour… it was not that of standard Kiri operatives. There was a desperation, a lack of tactical self-preservation."
There was a heavy pause on the other end of the link, then Hiruzen asked, "Good work, Minato. What's your next move?"
The professional mask Minato had worn all across the battlefield finally cracked. A deep, personal concern flooded his cerulean eyes, etching lines of worry onto his young face.
"I still need to find my team."
The Hokage's response was immediate and understanding. "Granted. Find them, Minato."
The link severed. Minato's gaze turned to the dense, mist-shrouded forest into which his students had vanished. The Yellow Flash had a new mission, one that outweighed all others.
=====
Deeper in the woods, where the mist clung to the trees like a shroud, Kakashi, Obito, and Ran were running on fumes. Their lungs burned, their muscles screamed in protest. The mist was unnaturally heavy, a palpable, cold wetness that limited vision to a few dozen feet and muffled sound, creating a disorienting, silent world of grey and green.
"I can't… I can't keep this up," Rin panted, stumbling over a root. Obito caught her arm, his own face a mask of sweat and frustration.
He exploded, "What's the point? Let us just fight them, Kakashi! We're not helpless!"
Kakashi didn't slow. "No. They want us to fight. They're herding us."
"Herding us?" Rin asked, her voice trembling.
"Their pursuit patterns," Kakashi explained, his tone clipped and analytical even as he ran. "They're not trying to overtake us. They're applying pressure from the flanks, closing off alternative routes. They're funnelling us toward a specific location."
His mind, a tactical supercomputer, had mapped their movements, the angles of attack, the subtle shifts in the chakra signatures that harried them. This wasn't a chaotic chase; it was a driven hunt.
Finally, they burst out of the treeline onto a rocky ridge that overlooked a deep, mist-filled ravine. Kakashi skidded to a halt, his hand flying up. They had run out of room. Obito and Rin stopped beside him, their chests heaving.
And then, the mist began to solidify.
From the trees behind them, from the shadows along the ridge, from the ravine below, figures emerged. Dozens of them. Kiri shinobi, their headbands glinting dully in the diffused light, their weapons drawn. Their faces were a mix of blank determination and fanatical zeal.
Kakashi's hand went to the hilt of the White Light Chakra Sabre at his back, the blade whispering as it left its sheath, glowing with a faint, deadly light. Obito's Sharingan blazed to life, the twin tomoe spinning wildly, trying to track every single enemy at once. Rin braced herself behind them, her hands clutching her medical pouch, her knuckles white.
Obito's voice was a hollow whisper, "We're surrounded…"
=====
Bless me with your powerful Power Stones.
Your Reviews and Comments about my work are welcomed
If you can, then please support me on Patreon.
Link - www.patreon.com/SideCharacter
You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon
Latest Chapter: 683-Numerous Possibilities