Konoha had existed for almost a century, and throughout its history, it had faced hostility in every form. They'd been attacked by violent foes and even more violent friends. Surviving opposition from within and from neighboring nations was a feature etched into its very DNA. Attacks were expected.
What wasn't expected was for such a violent attack to occur within Fire Country's borders. However, with this most recent scare, every Konoha shinobi within her walls was advised to be on extreme alert. The reason: the return of a legendary dōjutsu.
Such an eye had only been recorded three times before: the last known leader of the Whirlpool Isle, Madara Uchiha, and finally, the Sage of Six Paths himself. This news, delivered to the Hokage's office via Kobaru—who was fast becoming the village's most trusted informant—threw them immediately into overdrive.
A group of ANBU was given the directive to rescue, but everyone knew their main objective was to gather information. Kobaru's clone had reported two ruthless deaths and a flattened village even before the Konoha chunin had arrived. They had also flattened a village even before the Konoha chunin had arrived. Whether anyone wanted to admit it or not, the ANBU were considerably more valuable to the village than chunin on outpost duty. Even to Nohara, though he'd die before that admission left his lips.
The clone was yet to disappear or give an update. This either meant it was cut off from the source, or Kobaru had found a way to escape. Nohara reminisced for a while, thinking back to similar circumstances. In his mind, he unearthed a sense of fear and urgency, but mostly disdain for the eventual paperwork. On top of that, ANBU would typically interrogate and/or follow you for weeks on end. In the world of shinobi, surviving a surprise attack was often worse than dying from one, as suspicion was their very nature. Why were you to survive? Why are we to believe what you're telling us?
Thankfully, Kobaru's consistent reliability meant that defensive protocols were initiated without much contest. Hopefully, he'd make it back alive.
Kobaru's Race Against Exhaustion
Kobaru was sure he'd run longer distances before. His endurance was far from that of superior shinobi, but he could typically hold his own in a marathon. This time, however, his fatigue seemed to set in far earlier than ever before. Perhaps this was the result of his reckless clone abuse, or the way he'd instantly traversed the width of a city in one breath. The exact reason for this premature exhaustion was anyone's guess.
What he did know was that his legs were only a few meters away from giving out completely. The upset toddler bawling into his ear made the journey even more of a chore. If rescue and reconnaissance became commonplace in his career, he'd send his own soul to the Sage just to avoid it.
The familiar silhouette of Konoha's outer walls, usually a comforting sight, now loomed like a distant, unreachable promise. Every stride was a monumental effort, his vision blurring at the edges. He could hear the faint, rhythmic clang of the gate guards' armor, a sound that usually meant safety, but now felt like a cruel taunt. The upset toddler, mercifully quiet for the last few minutes, began to whimper again, a tiny, insistent reminder of the burden he carried.
Suddenly, a blur of motion from his left. A flash of green and a familiar, exasperated sigh.
"Mag... Kobaru!"
It was Nohara-sensei, materialized beside him. The jonin's eyes, usually narrowed in perpetual annoyance, were wide with a mix of relief and intense scrutiny. He took in Kobaru's ragged breathing, the dirt-streaked face of the crying child clutched to his chest, and the tell-tale signs of extreme chakra depletion.
Without a word, Nohara scooped up the child. The sudden lightness in Kobaru's arms was almost as disorienting as the strange shinobi's paralysis. Before he could fully process the shift, Nohara's hand clamped onto his shoulder, a firm, grounding pressure.
"Report, quickly. What happened out there?" Nohara's voice was low, urgent, cutting through Kobaru's exhaustion.
Kobaru gasped, trying to pull air into his burning lungs. "Purple eyes... concentric rings... he floated... black stakes... extra arm... he knew what I was thinking... he's looking for the Arashi... Chusei." The words tumbled out, disjointed but vital, painting a terrifying picture.
Nohara's eyes widened further, a flicker of true alarm crossing his face. "Purple eyes? And... Arashi?" His gaze immediately snapped towards the village, a grim understanding dawning. "That damn seal..."
Before Nohara could press for more, a squad of ANBU, their masks stark against the pre-dawn gloom, landed silently around them. Their leader, a tall figure with a dog mask, stepped forward, chakra blade already drawn.
"Raichi Nohara. What is the meaning of this chakra surge? And who is this child?" The voice was cold, devoid of emotion.
Nohara didn't flinch. "Intel. High-priority. Unprecedented threat. Apparent dōjutsu user, looking for an Arashi within Konoha. Get this child to medical. Kobaru, you're with me. Hokage's office, now."
He didn't wait for a response, already pulling Kobaru towards the main gate. Kobaru stumbled, his legs finally giving out, but Nohara's grip was iron. He was being dragged, half-conscious, into the heart of Konoha's crisis, the crying child and the terrifying purple eyes burning behind his own. The village was on high alert, facing a threat they could only begin to comprehend.
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The journey to the Land of Lightning was, in Chusei's esteemed opinion, far too long. He had spent the better part of a week crammed into a carriage with shinobi he barely knew, enduring endless lectures from the two temporary jonin about Kumo's social etiquette. His attention span, already a fleeting phantom, had evaporated somewhere over the Land of Rivers.
He was jolted awake by a sudden, violent lurch of the carriage, followed by a collective gasp from his companions. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Chusei peered out the window. What greeted him was a sight that momentarily silenced even his rambling thoughts.
Towering, jagged peaks, sharp as broken teeth, clawed at a sky perpetually bruised with thunderclouds. The Hidden Cloud Village wasn't nestled among mountains; it was the mountains. Massive structures, carved directly into the rock face, rose impossibly high, their upper reaches disappearing into swirling mist. Lightning, thin and stark, occasionally spiderwebbed across the dark clouds, illuminating colossal, rugged buildings that seemed to defy gravity. The air itself hummed with an almost palpable static charge, a constant reminder of the dominant chakra nature of this land.
"Welcome to Kumogakure," one of the temporary jonin announced, his voice tight with an unfamiliar tension. "Remember your manners, genin. They value strength and directness here. No Konoha niceties unless absolutely necessary."
Chusei blinked, his mouth slightly agape. This was nothing like Konoha's cozy, tree-lined streets. This was a fortress, a bastion of raw power. Even the air smelled different – ozone and the faint, metallic tang of lightning.
As the carriage rumbled through the outer defenses, the first thing Chusei noticed about the Kumo-nin was their presence. They were, almost without exception, physically imposing. Broad shoulders, muscular builds, and a confident but careless gait. Their skin tones varied, but many were darker, their eyes sharp and direct, meeting his gaze without a hint of the subtle deference or veiled suspicion he was used to in Konoha. They didn't just walk; they moved with an undeniable force.
His new teammates for the exam, whom he'd spent the last month training with, were already disembarking. There were six Konoha genin in total chosen for this festival. Three of them were from Nohara-sensei's reserves: himself, the Bukijutsu Geninwhose name still eluded Chusei, and one of the other girls from their cohort. The remaining three were Konoha genin from other groups, also selected for their individual merits.
"Alright, Carrot," the Bukijutsu Genin said, his voice surprisingly calm amidst the hum of the village. "This is it. Try not to get us disqualified before the first round."
Chusei offered a weak high-five, his mind still reeling from the sheer scale of the village. "No promises, Mouse Maggot. You know how I get when I'm bored."
He could feel the faint, unsettling thrum of the seal on his chest, a constant, low vibration that had settled into his new normal.
The brief, terrifying surge of power he'd felt back in Konoha was a distant memory, but the knowledge that it was there, just beneath his skin, was a strange comfort. He wondered if the Kumo-nin, with their heightened senses for lightning, could feel it too. He quickly dismissed the thought; they'd have been on him already if they could.
The Chunin Festival venue was a massive, open-air arena carved into the side of one of the mountains, its floor a packed earth that looked like it had endured countless lightning strikes. Banners emblazoned with the Cloud Village's distinctive symbol – two clouds, one above the other – fluttered in the strong mountain winds. Other genin teams, from various villages, were already milling about, their chatter a nervous counterpoint to the village's electric hum.
Chusei's new Konoha team gathered, receiving final instructions from their temporary jonin. "The first phase is a written exam," one explained, "but don't let that fool you. It's designed to test your mental fortitude under pressure. After that, anything goes. They prioritize direct combat and strategic thinking. Show them Konoha's strength."
Chusei sighed, already feeling the familiar pull of boredom. He missed Kobaru's endless questions and Nagisa's sharp retorts. This was going to be a long week. But then, a thought sparked in his mind: If C-ranks paid this well, imagine the B-ranks. Or even A-ranks.
A wide, familiar grin spread across his face.
He just had to survive.