The warm afternoon sun filtered through the leaves of the great Konoha trees, dappling the cobblestone streets in shifting patterns. On the surface, the village looked peaceful—children laughed in the distance, merchants hawked their goods, and the smell of fresh dumplings drifted from a food stall.
But MC's gut told a different story.
Something wasn't right.
The air itself felt heavier.
Almost… watchful.
MC adjusted the hitai-ate tied around his forehead and kept walking, forcing his steps to appear casual. His eyes scanned the edges of the crowd without moving his head much—a skill drilled into him since his earliest training. Every corner, every rooftop, every shadow became a suspect.
It wasn't paranoia.
It was survival.
He had learned long ago that danger rarely announced itself with a trumpet. It slid in quietly, wearing the face of an ordinary day until it was too late.
As he passed a stall selling kunai and shuriken, a flicker of movement caught his eye—too quick for a civilian, too deliberate to be a clumsy passerby. Someone was tailing him.
Not the first time, but this time… the feeling was stronger.
MC didn't break stride. Instead, he reached into his pouch and fished out a coin, tossing it lazily into the air. The metallic clink masked the soft whish of his fingers signaling to a shadow clone waiting on the next street.
The clone darted off in a different direction.
The bait was set.
Turning into a quieter alley, MC slowed his pace. A cat darted across the narrow street, and for a moment the soft mewling was the only sound. But then…
Tap.
Tap.
Two footsteps, measured and deliberate.
"Come out," MC said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "You've been sloppy."
A figure stepped forward from the shadow, wearing a dark cloak. The hood hid most of their face, but the glint of their eyes was unmistakable—sharp, predatory, assessing.
"You're not supposed to be here," the figure said, voice low.
MC's fingers twitched toward his kunai pouch. "Neither are you."
The silence between them stretched, the air thickening like the moment before a storm.
Suddenly, the cloaked figure moved—fast. Kunai in hand, they lunged. MC sidestepped, the blade missing his side by a hair's breadth, and countered with a spinning kick. The attacker blocked, but the force pushed them back.
"Good," the stranger murmured, almost approving. "I was wondering if the rumors were exaggerated."
"Rumors?" MC demanded.
The figure tilted their head. "That you're more dangerous than you look. That you've survived situations even seasoned jonin wouldn't walk away from."
MC's pulse quickened—not from fear, but from the realization that whoever this was… they knew things they shouldn't.
"Who sent you?" MC pressed.
The figure chuckled. "You'll find out soon enough. If you live."
Their second clash was fiercer. The alley rang with the metallic clash of kunai and the sharp crack of blows blocked and redirected. MC fought with precision, using every inch of space, forcing the attacker into a defensive stance.
But just as MC prepared a decisive strike, a sudden explosion shook the ground. Dust and debris rained from the rooftops. The figure used the distraction to leap onto the wall and vanish into the maze of buildings.
MC cursed under his breath. The explosion's direction was clear—toward the northern training grounds.
If this was a diversion, it was a good one.
Racing across the rooftops, MC reached the training grounds to find smoke billowing into the sky. Shinobi were already engaged in skirmishes with masked attackers—silent, coordinated, lethal.
And among them… MC saw a symbol burned into one attacker's shoulder guard. A symbol he recognized from the fragments of a nightmare he had been having for weeks.
Not possible.
Unless the nightmare wasn't just a dream.
He leapt into the fray, kunai flashing, chakra surging. Each movement was a blur, each strike meant to disable rather than kill—answers were more important than bodies.
But as he fought, he couldn't shake the image burned into his mind:
The cloaked figure's eyes.
Cold. Focused. Calculating.
They weren't just after him.
They were after something bigger.
And deep down, MC knew this was only the opening move.
Author's Note:
The shadows over Konoha are getting darker. The MC has faced skilled opponents before, but this is different—the enemy knows who he is, and possibly what he's hiding. What is their true objective? And what does the symbol mean?
Stick around for Chapter 23—things are about to explode in ways the village has never seen before.