The instant Obito slipped away with Kamui, Uchiha Shisui tensed and readied himself for battle.
He gripped his ninjatō and glanced back at Uchiha Yorin.
"Did you sense that?"
"Yeah. Chakra flux—space–time ninjutsu," Yorin replied, eyes still closed as he lounged under the wagon's canopy, hands pillowing his head. "Stronger than Flying Thunder God. The Land of Rain really hides dragons and crouching tigers."
"Apart from Hanzō of the Salamander, Amegakure still has people like that," Shisui murmured.
"Might not be Ame. Could be another faction."
Yorin's tone stayed lazy. Unlike the wary Shisui, he'd already guessed the watcher on the distant ridge was Uchiha Obito.
"The kid's puffed up now. We Uchiha really do slide into arrogance—self-important and carried away."
He couldn't help thinking it. Obito hadn't been like this before. Love changes people, huh?
Decision made: in a few days he'd hit up Orochimaru, learn Impure World Reincarnation, resurrect Nohara Rin, and let her talk Obito down.
With a scheme that unscrupulous already in mind, Yorin felt no pressure.
Everyone has a weakness; the bigger it is, the easier they are to handle—right, Kakashi?
"If we can, we should verify it. It's the Hokage's request," Shisui said.
Besides escorting luxury goods to the Rain capital for the daimyo and nobles, they carried a private charge from Minato Namikaze:
"The Land of Rain feels off. I suspect Danzō hid something. Other than Kakashi, I don't trust anyone in Anbu. So I have to ask you."
Minato, as Jiraiya's student, had heard about his three senior pupils in the Rain. He also knew that during the war Danzō led Anbu to negotiate with Hanzō and came back in tatters.
Danzō claimed an ambush, but by whom he refused to say.
Minato couldn't press him over a "minor" matter; even the Third wouldn't back that. Given the Rain's critical position bordering Fire, Wind, and Earth, someone had to look. But Minato lacked a pair both strong and trustworthy.
Regular intel teams, Anbu—even jōnin—entered Ame and came up empty, went dark, or vanished. The drizzling land was a black hole that swallowed prying eyes.
Just then the Uchiha extended an olive branch, and Minato had a new plan: Uchiha Yorin plus Uchiha Shisui—new-generation prodigies who might bring back real news.
As if.
"Great if we find something. If not, whatever—the Hokage's request was off the books," Yorin said.
"Still, success would be better, right?" Shisui answered. "Then the Fourth will look at us differently."
"It'll be a success," Yorin mumbled, drowsy. "I know Ame's situation inside and out. Just watch me work."
"Eh? Really? Tell me, Yorin! Yorin? Hey, don't fall asleep now!"
Ignoring Shisui's chatter, Yorin shut his eyes and mapped the next steps.
Akatsuki—future final boss of the late story—wasn't yet the S-rank rogue all-stars of legend. Even so, Yorin wouldn't rush them. Jiraiya with Sage Mode had fallen there; he and Shisui together weren't necessarily above Jiraiya.
Recon on Ame? He'd fudge the legwork. If the intel was right, did it matter how he got it?
Akatsuki was still in the burrow. Credit to Nagato—first-rate at winning over defectors. In barely over a decade he'd grow a scrappy outfit into a force beyond the Five Great Villages.
A dozen Kage-class fighters—Konoha at its peak couldn't muster that many.
If Nagato's body had lasted longer, if his lifespan were better, founding a lasting peace might be too much, but ruling by deterrence like Hashirama and forcing a few decades of stability? Very possible.
A shame.
Could grafting some First Hokage cells extend his life?
If he got the chance, Yorin would talk to him. A deal would be ideal.
"I'll take first sleep—you keep watch," Yorin said, and actually drifted off.
With Yorin like this, Shisui could only sigh. "Once we deliver the cargo, we'll head into Ame. I won't be at ease otherwise. But Yorin… how do I handle this?"
The Hokage's order and Yorin's plan rubbed raw edges. Shisui spiraled again—until minutes later space rippled on a ridge by the road, Kamui's distortion brushing the air.
Before that, a band of shinobi with slashed headplates burst from the treeline on both sides, charging the wagons stuffed with luxuries.
Plenty of them, quality all over the place.
Ame shinobi or rogues?
Didn't matter.
Because the fight had begun.
"Honored Konoha ninja, save us!"
The caravan master shrieked for help.
Yorin and Shisui were already moving, divvying heads as they leapt. "One apiece—your left, my right!"
"Got it!"
Two streaks—one red, one blue—sliced down both flanks. Before the rogues, bandits, and desperate drifters knew what happened, cold kissed their throats, blood exploded, and then nothing.
In a blink the "fearsome" raiding squad vanished under Shisui and Yorin's blades. Masters of shunshin—unrivaled reapers of rabble.
"Not surprising from Shisui… but Yorin's keeping pace?"
Watching from afar, Obito's eyes flickered. He turned, warped space again, and vanished.
This pulse was stronger than the last. No way that guy could ignore it.
"If recruiting those brats fails, I'll try Yorin," he thought. "Bring out Madara's aura and make him bow."