The soft smoke from Hiruzen Sarutobi's pipe curled upward, hazy in the lamplight. His desk was piled with reports , mission scrolls, shinobi rosters, and the constant tide of bureaucracy. But the report in front of him bore the insignia of ANBU.
A figure knelt before him, wearing the cold and unreadable monkey mask. His voice was flat, mechanical, as if stripped of identity.
"Lord Hokage. The two recruits, Enji Sarutobi and Itachi Uchiha , have progressed remarkably. Their performance is on par with lower-ranked ANBU operatives within a couple of weeks of training. They are ready for Anbu."
Hiruzen's brow furrowed slightly, from the weight of his thoughts. He took a puff from his pipe, exhaling the smoke slowly, watching it dissipate.
"What comes next for them?" he asked, his tone calm.
The monkey mask ANBU inclined his head. "They are ready for the graduation mission.
Assassination.
Target: a traitor Chunin. May involve civilian casualties."
Hiruzen's gaze grew heavier. He knew what that meant. The final step into ANBU was not training. It was blood. A trial in the real world, where morality and duty clashed, and where hesitation could destroy everything.
"Very well," he murmured, his voice low. "But ensure they come back alive. They are still… children."
The ANBU bowed deeply. "Children do not wear Anbu masks, Hokage-sama. They are already capable enough."
Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, the pipe in his hand. His heart ached, but he knew the truth. This is the world we created. The children bear it sooner than they should.
---
In the ANBU training camp -
Enji and Itachi sat side by side on the cold bench, both wearing training gear but without their masks.
Itachi's dark eyes were thoughtful, his hands folded tightly. "…The torture training," he muttered at last. "I knew it would be part of ANBU. But the way they make us… watch, then practice…" His voice faltered, though he rarely let it. "Sometimes I wonder if this path is the correct one."
Enji leaned back, his posture looser, though his gaze was sharp and steady. His voice carried the calmness of someone who had seen truths already. " Itachi, we are capable of handling this. We do this so that the people dear to us never have to see this darkness."
Itachi blinked, glancing at him.
"Shinobi villages survive because someone does the work no one else wants to acknowledge," Enji continued. "ANBU is the knife in the dark. We end threats before they grow. We cut off rot before it spreads. It's dirty, cruel, but it has to be done."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Itachi's expression tightened, then slowly softened with reluctant acceptance. "You speak as if you've lived it already."
Enji smirked faintly. "Maybe I just understand it better than most."
Before Itachi could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall, they both donned their masks on . From the shadows emerged another ANBU — this one with the sharp, predatory tiger mask. His presence was commanding, his tone absolute.
"Recruits. You have been assigned on a mission."
Tiger Mask unfurled a scroll onto the table between them. Itachi leaned forward, eyes scanning quickly, while Enji's gaze remained steady, prepared for what he would see.
"Your target is Sagara Ren, a former Konoha records officer and a Chunin.
We have confirmed that he has been in contact with enemy ninjas, sharing sensitive information.
Since he has some ties with the fire Daimyo, officially he is untouchable. This is where Anbu comes in.
He has left for the Fire - Wind border today, along with a merchant caravan, disguised as a merchant.
Your orders are to intercept before contact is made, retrieve all stolen materials, and silence him permanently. This mission is classified. His family and the village will be told he died in an accident.
The mission is simple and straightforward as it gets."
Tiger Mask continued, his tone colder. " After eliminating the traitor you are to return to the nearest hidden Anbu base with his body and belongings. Further orders will be provided at the Anbu base."
Itachi's jaw clenched. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Enji's expression didn't change, his acceptance was already given before the briefing even finished.
Tiger Mask's gaze shifted between the two. "This mission will mark your place among us. Do not falter. In ANBU, success is invisible. Failure is unforgivable."
With that, he vanished again, leaving only the scroll behind.
itachi and Enji stood up, gathering the scroll and necessary gear, ready for departure.
...
The night was cool as Enji and Itachi moved through the trees, masks on, like dark shadows. Their footsteps were soundless, their chakra signatures suppressed as the Anbu instructor had drilled into them countless times. They were ANBU now, if only recruits in name and this was their first true mission outside the controlled shadows of Konoha's training grounds.
The caravan came into view at dawn, a cluster of wagons pulled by oxen, merchants huddled nervously under the tarps. Around them moved their guards… four teenagers and a couple of burly civilians. Itachi felt his chest tighten as he caught the shiny new Konoha head protectors on the four teenagers.
"A genin team from Konoha. We'll have to fight our own." Itachi said, waiting for Enji's opinion.
Enji's voice was like stone. "No need to hurt them. We'll go in as bandits. Let our clones obstruct them and scare the others off. The traitor can then be singled out."
Enji raised two fingers.' Transformation jutsu!'
In an instant, his frame dissolved into the scruffy figure of a wandering bandit, scar across his cheek, ragged clothes, a chipped blade at his side. Itachi followed suit, taking the form of a smaller, wiry rogue.
Enji murmured, his voice now much deeper and hoarse. "Let them think we are just a desperate bandit group."
With quick hand seals, they produced shadow clones, each transformed into additional bandits. The illusion was complete - dozen men skulking along the caravan's path, eyes glinting with greed.
As the caravan trudged along the road, hidden in the tree line, Enji crouched beside Itachi, both in their disguise - rough, scarred faces, leather jerkins, rusty swords slung across their backs. Tonight, they weren't shinobi. They were bandits.
Enji whispered, "Remember, loud, crude, sloppy. Sell it."
Itachi gave the slightest nod, already adjusting his posture into something loose and brutish, far from the composed prodigy he was.
Enji gave the signal. A handful of shadow clones transformed as bandits burst from the brush, shouting curses and swinging clubs. Enji and Itachi followed, weapons raised, looking every bit like roadside thugs.
The caravan guards reacted quickly. The genin from Konoha leapt forward, headbands flashing, kunai drawn.
"Bandits! Protect the merchants!" their leader barked, a boy barely sixteen.
Steel clashed. Enji swung his crude blade wide, letting the genin parry easily. He snarled like a brigand, pushing forward with brute force but never pressing past what a thug should be capable of. Itachi mimicked him - quick, sloppy jabs, leaving openings on purpose.
The fight dragged on, noisy and chaotic. To the merchants, it looked like a desperate bandit raid. To the genin, it felt like a rough skirmish against undisciplined foes.
But amid the confusion, Enji's eyes sharpened.
One of the caravan's supposed ' merchant ' wasn't flustered at all. His stance was steady, his breathing calm, his eyes always scanning the tree line rather than the immediate battle. He parried a bandit with effortless precision and kept drifting towards the periphery, instead of seeking protection in the middle.
Then, in a flicker of movement too fast for a genin, he repositioned several meters away, almost vanishing into the forest.
Enji's mind flashed. 'There. That's him.'
He let his blade clang against a genin's kunai, staggering back with a growl, but his mind was razor-sharp now. He caught Itachi's eye across the melee. The Uchiha's gaze narrowed in the same direction. They had both seen it.
The ' merchant ' wasn't just composed - he was trying to slip away unnoticed.
And the moment he thought he had slipped unnoticed, Enji and Itachi moved.
They increased the chaos, scattering the clones and driving the genin into a tighter defensive ring around the merchants. To the young shinobi, it looked like the bandits were breaking and retreating.
But in reality, Itachi and Enji had already slipped past unnoticed in the chaos, tracking the fleeing chunin into the dark.
....
Sagara Ren rushed into the treeline, heart hammering as he fled the false bandit raid. He moved fast, feet whispering over roots and leaves, body flicker carrying him deeper into shadow.
Not bandits, his mind snarled. ' Too clean, too precise. Not attacking the merchants and taking hostages, but going at the gaurds. Not even going for the goods. They are here for me! I've been exposed!!'
He pushed harder, desperate to vanish before the attackers noticed.
Then the forest shifted.
A branch creaked above him. By the time he looked up, it was too late. A bulky figure dropped like a stone, kunai already drawn. He barely raised his kunai before Enji's strike slammed into it, the sheer weight driving him backward.
He twisted free, ready to flicker again but his path was cut off. From the side, another shape stepped out of the dark. The smaller one. Movements crisp, silent, unhurried. A short blade glinted in his hand.
The chunin cursed under his breath, spinning, looking for a gap -
There was none.
Enji pressed forward with heavy, relentless force, every blow a hammer. Itachi flanked, every step choking the chunin's space tighter. Their rhythm was cold, wordless, inevitable.
He lashed out wildly, kunai flashing. His strikes met only emptiness. A short sword carved down across his guard, numbing his arm. A kunai kissed past his throat close enough to cut air.
Panic bled into rage. "Bastards! You're not bandits - you're Konoha's dogs! Show your faces!"
They gave him nothing. No words. No wasted motion. Just shadows closing in.
A fist slammed into his ribs. A kunai bit into his thigh. His footing faltered. In the same breath, the smaller figure's blade slipped beneath his guard, sliding across his chest in a perfect, merciless cut.
The chunin staggered,clutching at the wound. He looked up, eyes burning with hate, but all he saw were two silent bandits - no names, no faces, only executioners.
The traitor was ragged now, bleeding, cornered.
"You think you've already won?! I'll take you down with me, you bastards!!" he spat, hand plunging into his pouch. Kunai gleamed - each one wrapped with explosive tags.
With a howl, he hurled them in a wild storm. Ten, fifteen, spinning arcs of steel and paper hissing through the air, seals already igniting.
The forest lit with deadly sparks.
But the hunters didn't flinch.
Itachi and Enji moved immediately. Itachi's disguised form blurred, wrist snapping in a sharp motion. Shuriken flashed from his sleeve, cutting through the dark. With surgical perfection, each one struck a kunai mid-spin, knocking them just off path, redirecting their deadly arcs away from the direct line.
At the same time Enji stepped forward. His hand slammed against the dirt.
"Earth Release…"
The ground bulged, shaping into a flat, wide stone spear jutting from the earth. Enji drew back his fist, reinforced with chakra,muscles coiled, then drove his punch into it like a hammer.
The stone spear shattered.
Fragments exploded outward like a shotgun blast, jagged shards screaming through the air. They met the tumbling kunai mid-flight, striking the glowing seals.
BOOM!
One after another, the tags detonated in the air, chain blasts rattling the forest, torn apart before they could reach their targets.
Through the smoke and thunder, the storm of stone didn't stop. Shards ripped through the haze, whistling like bullets.
The chunin barely had time to widen his eyes.
The fragments tore into him - chest, arms, throat. He staggered, choking on blood, body jerking with each impact before collapsing into the dirt.
Silence fell. Only the crackle of burning leaves and the settling of dust remained.
Itachi lowered his last shuriken with calm precision. Enji shook his knuckles, exhaling once. Neither broke their disguise.
The traitor's final gamble had been futile. From the start, this was not a fight, but an execution.
Enji and Itachi stood over him, the bigger boy calm, while the smaller one, his face paler, his hand holding the weapon shaky. Not a word passed between them. Enji checked the body, sealed it into the scroll, and tapped Itachi on the shoulder, bringing him back from his thoughts.
Without another word, both of them vanished in a blur, flickering towards the Anbu base as ordered.