The climb turned into a grueling, rhythmic slog. Every step upward sent a heavy, burning fire through my quads, the rugged ascent forcing me to navigate a labyrinth of roots slippery with moisture. Slick, black moss threatened to swallow the grip of my boots with every shift of my weight. Above, the narrow trunks of the firs shredded the morning light into a jagged maze of blinding white and charcoal shadow—the flickering my head swim if I looked at the horizon for too long.
We halted near a massive, moss-choked spruce that smelled of ancient resin and cold dampness. Kakashi leaned against a white, skeletal birch, his exhales thin and smelling of bile. Anko stood five paces away, her posture loose and predatory as she scanned the red maples above. She looked scoured by the terrain, her shoulders locked in a rigid line of avoidance.
Physical necessity eventually overruled tactical silence. My bladder ached with a heavy, distracting pressure that thrummed at the base of my skull, competing with the dry grit-grind of my neck bones. I signaled a halt, my hand making a brief, cutting motion in the air.
"I have to go," I whispered, the words barely surviving the hiss-whir of a nearby steam pillar.
Anko's eyes snapped to mine, sharp and bone-dry. "Make it fast. The air here doesn't like visitors."
Naruto adjusted his goggles, his pupils blown wide as he scanned the shifting haze. He didn't just nod; he reached into his pouch and pulled out a pair of gritty, ochre-colored pulse seals.
"Remember the Forest of Death?" he said, his voice dropping into a register of uncharacteristic maturity that caught me off guard. He didn't look like the loud-mouthed kid from the boat; he looked like someone who had internalized the weight of a near-fatal failure. "When I had to pee and almost got killed? Your seals. We're using them."
I took one from him, the textured paper biting into my thumb. I pressed the seal against the inside of my left wrist, feeling the friction of the adhesive catch against my skin. Naruto followed suit, slapping his onto his own wrist with a muffled thud. As I fed a microscopic thread of chakra into the paper, a faint, rhythmic pulse thrummed against my pulse point—a dormant vibration that linked our systems. If one of us stopped "thrumming," the other would know instantly.
"Stay within the ping," Naruto warned, his blue eyes hyper-vigilant.
I grinned, trotting away, "You sound like me now."
I retreated behind the spruce, the flickering light and shadow effect of the timber swallowing my silhouette. The air tasted of cold resin and wet ash, even through the charcoal ANBU grade filtration of my gaiter. I focused on the physics of the ground, carefully avoiding the black moss, when the air suddenly changed.
Shrip-shrip-tink.
A taste of bitter zinc flooded my mouth—the synesthetic bite of chakra-conductive steel cutting through the resinous cold. Metal wires sang through the mist, a shrill, stinging vibration that rattled my jaw.
Before I could pivot, a web of razor-edged steel cinched around my ribs, pinning my arms to my sides. The wires hummed with a lethal friction that bit into the heavy fabric of my vest, drawing a line of fire across my skin beneath the tension. I clawed at the air, but I couldn't reach my Fūma kunai. My wrist seal let out a frantic, jagged spike of vibration—a silent scream for help.
A figure drifted out of the steam. He possessed an androgynous grace that reminded me of Haku or Ranmaru—light-blue hair held back by a purple band, and long, painted nails that glinted like polished bone. The scent of syrupy, artificial floral oil drifted from him, clashing violently with the raw odor of wet ash and pine.
"Don't struggle," Monju murmured, his voice a predatory hum that carried the weight of a cold, wet cloth. "The more heat you produce, the tighter the Bind gets. I'll peel the skin off your bones before you can scream".
A metallic screeching echoed against my ribs as the steel cinched tighter, threatening to collapse my lungs. I looked into his black, unblinking eyes and saw a merciless, industrial calm. I was being inventoried, just like the boat.
Suddenly, a blur of orange shattered through the fog.