The wind drifted westward, stirring the clouds with a calm, steady rhythm. Perched atop a rooftop, a lone figure bent forward, his presence still and resolute. His short blue hair swayed gently with the breeze, each strand catching the soft touch of air like threads pulled by fate.
He wore a red fitted robe, the fabric snug and fastened at every end for movement, its edges fluttering with quiet grace. That was Haru—*Iminaqo Haru*.
His gaze remained fixed, sharp yet distant, as if nothing in the world could stir him. Beneath his eyes, faint shadows painted the weariness he carried—not from exhaustion, but from a detachment so deep it could only be born of experience.
He didn't blink.
He didn't move.
He simply watched… as though the world below was nothing more than passing wind.
Then a voice echoed from below.
"Where did boss tell us to carry the cartons?"
"I don't know. Probably their warehouse."
Haru's eyes shifted, scanning for the source. His thoughts sharpened.
*Bandits? Now? After three days of silence? And they're suddenly loud?*
He narrowed his gaze.
*No… It's a trap. They know we're here.*
Carefully, he crept along the rooftop, following the sound of their footsteps.
Below, the two figures moved casually, each balancing a carton as they approached an old building. They opened the wooden door and walked inside.
Haru landed silently behind another structure, pressing his back to the wall, peeking around to observe. Inside, the men began stacking the cartons methodically, whispering something he couldn't hear.
Then, without warning—
Chimaru's face appeared beside him.
"Are those... bandits?" he whispered.
Haru, unbothered by Chimaru's appearance, didn't say a word. He gently pushed Chimaru's face back behind the wall and turned to walk away without a glance.
Chimaru whispered sharply, "Oi! Haru! Are you seriously letting them go? What is wrong with you?"
Suddenly, a scream—feminine, terrified—pierced through the quiet, "HELP!" It came from inside the warehouse.
Chimaru's attention shot back toward the building. The two bandits had exited, casually walking away, leaving the door wide open.
Without hesitation, Chimaru crouched low and launched himself forward. Using both hands and feet like a true shinobi, he dashed toward the warehouse entrance, focused and silent.
Above, perched on the edge of a rooftop, Haru watched. His golden eyes calmly followed Chimaru's movement.
"He probably told the others to meet me here," Haru thought to himself, "because I told *him* to. That means the team is doing one of two things:
One—they're sprinting toward me right now.
Two—they're already hidden nearby, watching to see what my plan is and waiting for the perfect moment to reveal themselves.
Either way... they're already in my hand."
Chimaru sprinted toward the warehouse, sand kicking up in bursts under the force of his hands and feet. His movement was sharp, low, and fast—pure instinct guiding him forward.
High above, Haru remained still on the rooftop, his eyes fixed on Chimaru's every move. The wind stirred his robe, but his expression didn't flinch.
"This is an obvious trap," Haru muttered to himself. "Any fool could see that… But whatever happens in that warehouse will reveal their true intent—"
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"—and decide my next move."
Chimaru burst into the warehouse, his breath sharp and rapid. He raised his head, eyes scanning the dimly lit space.
"Eh?" he murmured, confused by what he saw.
But before he could even register it—
The warehouse exploded violently, flames tearing through the wooden structure and hurling debris into the sky. A deafening roar echoed across the silent village, shaking the very air.
A blazing inferno rose high above the rooftops, painting the sky in hues of orange and black. It was no ordinary explosion—this was crafted, calculated.
On the opposite rooftop, Haru remained unmoved. His expression blank, eyes reflecting the burning light as the explosion bloomed before him—just as he expected.
His thoughts echoed calmly.
Now it checks out. These bandits... they're more than thieves. This mission—it's not about the village or the loot. They're after someone... someone among us. It's a trap, but a smart one.
The flames danced in his cold gaze.
And whoever they're after isn't ordinary. Which means one of us... is different.
"But this explosion was just a call from both sides," Haru thought to himself as he watched the flames settle. "Probably to attract both us and the bandits to the scene. And during the confusion, they strike. If not... then they're assessing. Watching. Which means, whoever the bandits focus their attacks on... that's their target."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"The rest of the team should be on their way."
Without hesitation, Haru leapt down from the rooftop and into the thick smoke. The ground beneath him was scattered with burning splinters and torn cloth. He scanned quickly, then spotted Chimaru's small frame, cloth scorched, body covered in ash but somehow unharmed.
Chimaru looked up at Haru silently.
Haru didn't speak either. He simply pulled him out of the debris and dragged him across to a safer corner, hidden behind a large collapsed cart—just in case another explosion was set to follow.
Moments later, the rest of the squad arrived at the burning scene. Eyes wide, breaths heavy.
Shino ran in first, rage bursting through his body. He grabbed Haru by the front of his robe, shaking him violently. "Fool! You're dead! You think you're the only person on this mission?! You—damn it!!"
Haru's face remained still. He didn't resist. He didn't reply. He only stared at Shino with those half-dead eyes, unbothered.
Matsamaru stepped forward, calming Shino a bit. He looked at Haru, disappointment heavy in his tone. "We know you're the smartest among us. But you have to cooperate with the team. This is a team mission, Haru. You can't just keep slacking off and acting alo—"
"Honeki is involved," Haru cut in, his voice flat.
Everything went quiet.
Matsamaru froze. His mouth opened, ready to respond… but no words came out.