The rain on the central canal network had stopped. It was one of those rare days where it water did not pour down. It was humid, but clear. Fog had gained the gorge in the lands of river borders. It was perfect weather for an ambush.
Goto Haribako crouched on a moss-slick tree branch, his senbon umbrella resting across his knees. The C-rank weapon, made by the Foundry, had been his closest companion over the past weeks. His progress, staggering.
Below him, the canal path was a ribbon of churned mud between stagnant waterways. His two teammates, Ren and Sora, were hidden fifty yards to either flank, their chakra signatures diminished from 'Stealth', a skill they would have overlooked if it were not for the regular joint training with team 42 and 11.
This was their third patrol in as many days. The "deterrent" patrols Commander Batto had assigned. To Goto, it felt less like deterrence and more like hunting. The memory of the burning command tent, Zenitsu's betrayal, and the cold efficiency with which Ryugo had ended the wolf-mask Dotuki clansman was a fresh brand on his mind.
It had lit a fire under him. No more just following orders. He needed to be sharper, deadlier. More like them. More like him. Ryugo was not just a friend to him. He had become a model. And it was not just Goto. Half the southern border fort considered a hero. A new generation genius.
His eyes, sharp even without a bloodline, scanned the grey-green monotony. Ren's signal came first. It was a subtle flicker of chakra from a water reed, invisible to anyone not expecting it. Contact. East. Three.
Goto's hands moved silently, tapping two precise sequences on the metal ribs of his umbrella.
Three figures emerged from the mist, moving with the cautious, spread-out formation of a border patrol. Tanigakure genins. Their grey-green uniforms were muddy. Their postures were tense, they screamed inexperience and weakness. They were young, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. Not exactly greenhorns, but definitely not the kind that should be in enemy territory.
Clearly, Tanigakure was running out of manpower.
[Tanigakure Genin – Lv. 11]
[Tanigakure Genin – Lv. 13]
[Tanigakure Genin – Lv. 9]
Goto could not assess them like Ryugo would, but he could tell from their chakra signatures that they were not elite genins. The genin in the lead was wearing the Tanigakure uniform. Green hair, sharp eyes, he was scanning the tree line. Flanking him, a sturdier genin, with hands hovering his kunai pouches. He was trembling. Behind, there was a girl with small, almost inexistant brows. She looked like a medical nin.
All three of them looked slow, exhausted. Their chests was heavy.
They were following the canal, likely a standard liaison run between two Tanigakure outposts. They were on edge due to the numerous deaths recorded in the region. After all, it no longer was their zone of influence after the dam's capture.
Goto gave the signal. A single, soft tap.
Execute
Sora, from the waterway to the west, moved first. His hands formed seals under the surface of the murky canal.
"Suiton: Water Clone Technique!" (D)
Three clones of churning canal water rose silently behind the Tanigakure patrol. They weren't perfect replicas, just humanoid shapes, but in the mist, they were convincing enough. They lunged with silent, splashy steps.
The Tanigakure point man spun, his short sword coming up. "Contact! Rear!"
The middle genin flung kunai at the nearest clone. The rear medical nin fumbled for shurikens.
It was exactly the distraction Goto needed.
He dropped from the branch, not with a shout, but in utter silence, his umbrella held closed like a staff. He landed behind the archer, the soft thud of his feet masked by the splashing clones and the rain.
The medical nin, her focus split, sensed him too late. She started to turn, about to throw three shurikens.
Goto's umbrella snapped open in her face, not to strike, but to blind and disorient. The sudden, large object filled her vision. In the same motion, his left hand flicked out.
"Haribako Hidden Art: Silent Needle." (D)
A single, specially weighted senbon, its flight path utterly silent, took her in the side of the neck, precisely targeting a minor nerve cluster. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed without a sound, her bow clattering to the mud.
One down.
The point man had just dispersed a water clone with a brutal kunai thrust. He heard the faint clatter and spun, his eyes widening at the sight of his fallen comrade and the strange Amegakure shinobi with the umbrella.
"Ambush! They are Amegakure genins! Take cover!"
He was brave. He charged Goto, his kunai guard solid and courageous.
The other genin, having dispersed another clone, followed with two kunai as daggers.
Goto didn't meet the charge. He retreated, his steps light and quick, drawing them away from the medical nin's body and towards the center of the path. He deflected a kunai thrust with the edge of his umbrella, the metal ringing softly.
"Ren", Goto murmured, knowing his teammate would hear
From the eastern flank, Ren emerged. He didn't charge the point man.
Ren went for the genin in the middle. His dual short swords were already drawn, and he moved with the aggressive, direct style he'd honed sparring against Ameruyi.
The middle genin yelped, turning to meet Ren's assault, kunai against swords. The clash was immediate and brutal.
This left Goto with the point man. The lead green-haired genin was strong, with decent reach and agility. He pressed Goto hard, his strikes economical. Goto analyzed him as he parried and dodged. He favored low thrusts. His recovery from a lunge was a half-second slow on his left side.
A flaw that made him predictable.
Goto feinted a stumble on the slick mud. The green-haired genin took the bait, lunging with a killing thrust aimed at Goto's chest. Goto wasn't there. He used the umbrella like a pole, planting it and vaulting over the kunai's path. As he spun in the air, his hand brushed the umbrella's handle. A hidden mechanism clicked.
"Haribako Hidden Art: Blooming Needle Burst." (C)
From the tip of the umbrella, a fan of a dozen senbon fanned out downwards. They weren't aimed to kill. They were aimed to cripple. They stitched across his opponent's extended arm, shoulder, and leg.
He screamed, dropping his kunai, stumbling back.
Goto landed, closed his umbrella, and in one smooth motion, drove the reinforced metal tip into the man's throat. The scream cut off with a wet gurgle.
Two down.
He looked over. Ren had his opponent pinned, one sword locked against the genin's kunai, the other at his throat. The Tanigakure genin was trembling, his eyes wide with terror.
"Please…" the boy whispered
Ren's face, usually so impassive, tightened. He looked at Goto.
Goto remembered Ryugo's flat voice after killing the Dotuki.
No witnesses. The border is a tinderbox. Every one of them is a potential spark.
He gave a single, sharp nod.
Ren's blade moved. A quick, clean cut. The third genin fell.
Silence returned, broken only by the rain and the gentle lap of canal water. The whole engagement had taken less than a minute.
Sora emerged from the water, his clones dissolving. He looked at the three bodies, his young face pale but set.
"Clear."
"Search them. Intel, maps, codes. Standard salvage", Goto ordered, his voice steady.
He felt no exhilaration, no guilt. Just a cold satisfaction. A job done well. A lesson applied. They were getting stronger. They were becoming a unit that could truly stand beside Team 11, not just in training, but in the bloody mess of the border.
As Ren and Sora worked, Goto looked south, towards Tanigakure territory. This was the pressure Commander Batto wanted. Relentless. Unforgiving.