The moon hung silently above as four figures faced one another in the forest clearing.
Scarface, vice leader of Windmill Village, was drunk on anger and alcohol. Earlier that night he had celebrated a successful raid, drinking until his body could hardly stand. He had only just collapsed into bed when alarms tore through the village.
Groggy but alert enough to react, he threw on his clothes and followed the noise outside. There he spotted a girl in dark ninja attire—her face pale, her blade stained with blood—staggering toward the forest. One of his men lay dead behind her.
Scarface didn't hesitate. He trailed her silently, certain she would lead him to her accomplices. When she finally stopped among the trees, waiting for her comrades, he struck. Despite her skill, she was exhausted, and he quickly subdued her.
Then came the thunder of an explosion. From the village behind them, fire rose to the heavens, the ground shuddering from the blast. Rage twisted Scarface's scarred features. His instincts screamed at him to drive his kunai through the girl's throat. But he forced his hand still. He needed answers. If the truth wasn't uncovered, his terrifying leader would surely kill him instead.
Now, holding Mikoto tightly by the neck, his blade pressed against her forehead, Scarface snarled at the three youths standing before him.
"Don't move, don't speak, or she dies!"
His breath stank of liquor, his hands steady despite his fury. Hayashi stepped in front of Shisui, who was trembling with rage and ready to leap forward. A wrong move, and Mikoto's life would end instantly.
Hayashi's mind raced. Genjutsu might work, but if Scarface broke free in even a second, it wouldn't be enough time to save her. And this man was no ordinary bandit—his strength was at least at the level of a Jōnin.
Hayashi steadied himself. He needed to stay calm. The enemy hadn't killed Mikoto immediately, which meant he was still cautious. If they weren't wearing Konoha headbands, Scarface might suspect a hidden jōnin commander nearby. That hesitation was the only advantage they had.
"What do you want?" Hayashi asked, his voice steady.
Mikoto winced, pain flashing across her face as Scarface's grip on her neck tightened. "What do I want?" he growled, his words broken by bitterness.
"I crawled from nothing. From dirt. Like a dog, I clawed my way up here. All I wanted was enough strength to protect the people important to me, to give them a better life. No one was going to bully us again!" His voice cracked as anger overtook him. "I was close. So close. And you brats ruined everything in one night. The leader will kill me for this. But if I bring you back… maybe I can survive!"
His grip tightened again. Mikoto's lips trembled as she forced out a whisper. "D-Don't… mind me…"
Hatred stabbed into Hayashi's chest. He despised his own weakness more than ever. Though he knew Scarface wouldn't kill her so easily, seeing Mikoto suffer like this burned at him.
Taking a single step forward, Hayashi raised his empty hands. "It's me you want." His voice was cold and clear. "I killed your men. I set the explosive tags. Your hatred should be directed at me. She's my most important companion. Let her go. I'll take her place."
Scarface's scar twisted as he broke into harsh laughter. "Hahaha… You're serious? A shinobi with companions? You're still a child. A ninja's destiny is to walk in darkness, alone!"
Mikoto shook her head frantically, tears welling. "Hayashi… don't. Please, just run…"
Scarface raised his kunai mockingly. "Naïve brat. If she means that much to you, prove it. Pick up that kunai." He tossed a blade to the ground before Hayashi. "Stab it through your hand. Do that, and I might release her."
"Don't!" Shisui shouted, clutching Hayashi's arm.
"Hurry up!" Scarface barked. "Or do you want to watch her die?"
Hayashi's eyes narrowed. He understood the trap. A crippled hand meant no hand seals, no ninjutsu. A ninja with one ruined hand was almost powerless. Still, his decision was made.
Biting down, Hayashi stooped and gripped the kunai. His hand trembled, but he drove the blade straight through his palm, pinning it into the dirt. Blood gushed freely. His teeth clenched against the pain as he lowered his head.
"Like this… is it enough?" he said, his voice strained.
Scarface blinked in disbelief. He had expected hesitation, bargaining, maybe begging. Not this ruthless resolve. For a brief moment, his grip on Mikoto loosened.
But his suspicion quickly returned. His gaze hardened. Was this boy too dangerous to leave alive?
Then Hayashi raised his eyes, his eye glowing faintly in the moonlight. "Tell me… do you remember a couple in a hotel at Rogue Town?"
Scarface stiffened. His mind faltered. "W-What… what are you talking about?"
Hayashi's voice slipped into a low, steady rhythm, laced with subtle chakra. A genjutsu. "They're dead. My teacher killed them. I watched with my own eyes."
The images crashed into Scarface's mind. He saw the couple's lifeless bodies sprawled on the ground, eyes wide with betrayal. They seemed to stare directly at him, accusing him, whispering, "Why didn't you save us?"
Scarface's face paled, his hand trembling. For an instant, his iron grip weakened. Mikoto wrenched free, gasping for breath.
Hayashi exhaled heavily, his chakra drained. The genjutsu had been high-level, almost beyond his limits. Relief surged through him—Mikoto was safe.
But Scarface suddenly snapped back, fury exploding across his face. "You little—!"
His arm lashed out, and a kunai flew. Hayashi barely had time to react before it pierced his chest, slamming him backward into the ground. Pain exploded through his body, blood spreading across his clothes.
Mikoto's scream tore through the forest. Her eyes widened, tears falling. Then, as her grief boiled into rage, her vision bled red.
Her Sharingan awakened.
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