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The rest of the journey was unnervingly smooth, devoid of any danger.
Hatake sat in the cart, glancing back at the dense forest receding behind them. The convoy had already left the Land of Fire and entered the Land of Grass.
The large procession moved in near silence. Wary eyes scanned the flat, grassy plains ahead, weapons held tight in ready hands.
The primary battleground between the Land of Earth and the Land of Fire was right here, in the Land of Grass and the surrounding smaller nations.
A classic case of great powers clashing, and the little guys getting crushed.
No wonder Nagato wants revenge on the whole damn world.
As they neared the war zone, everyone's nerves wound tighter.
Hatake climbed down from the cart. He looked at the sky. It felt ominous.
Gloomy rain clouds hung low. Lush grass shivered in the wind.
Based on his years of anime-watching experience, this setup screamed that something big was about to go down.
His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword.
The Land of Grass was about one-eighth the size of the Land of Fire, its terrain a series of gently rolling hills. It got its name from the abundant grass covering the country.
On the other side of those hills, a force of a hundred men moved with purpose.
They wore brown flak jackets, faces grim. The forehead protectors gleaming under the grey light were unmistakably those of Iwa-nin—shinobi of the Land of Earth, currently at war with Konoha.
"Lord Kitsuchi," said a spiky-haired ninja to the tall, imposing man beside him at the front. "According to our spy within Konoha, their reinforcements are due to arrive soon. We just need to set an ambush along the route and wipe them out in one sweep."
The man called Kitsuchi was young, but carried an air of deep steadiness. He nodded. "Good."
Intel said one of the legendary Sannin, Jiraiya, was among the Konoha reinforcements. Their surprise attack unit existed for precisely this purpose: to eliminate this Konoha support force before it could reach the front.
…
The sky grew darker, heavier. The air thickened with the promise of a storm.
Hatake frowned. The ground beneath his feet felt soft, damp.
"Hatake. It's raining."
Shisui stood behind him, a few gathered raindrops glistening on his palm. A light, pattering drizzle began to fall. Hatake activated Limitless. The droplets seemed to veer away, repelled by an invisible field.
For shinobi, operating in the rain was nothing unusual.
The entire ninja column continued its orderly advance.
"Earth Style: Earth Core!"
The ground beneath Hatake's feet shuddered violently.
A sudden, lurching sensation of falling.
The next moment, the entire patch of earth they stood on plunged deep into the ground. They were trapped, walls of soil over ten meters high rising on all sides.
"Watch out!"
"Ambush!"
The Konoha ninja snapped to alertness. Shaking off the disorientation from the sudden quake, their eyes widened at the sight covering the walls.
Explosive tags.
Dozens. Hundreds. A sickening carpet of them plastered across every inch of the walls and the turf beneath their feet.
"No way…"
"So many…!"
Hatake's pupils contracted. This was a trap. A meticulously prepared kill box just for them.
"Move! Earth Style users, now!" Hizashi Hyuga barked, his Byakugan taking in the scene and the rising panic in some of the men's eyes.
Everyone here was a Chūnin. No one present could execute an Earth Style technique of this scale. And a fair number were already frozen, minds blank with terror at the sight.
"Explode."
The command, cold and calm, came from atop the earthen walls.
Blinding light. Scalding heat. The world erupted in a roar of flame and concussive force so intense the very air seemed to warp.
The combined power of thousands of explosive tags was a force that snuffed out hope before it could even form.
A wild, insane idea flashed through Hatake's mind. He knew it was absurd. He couldn't suppress it.
His gaze swept over the despairing faces of the Konoha ninja around him. He took a slow, deep breath. Focused.
Thousands of tags… stacked together… probably less than a cubic meter.
What if… I moved them all into the storage space?
Transferring such a massive quantity instantaneously was a brutal strain for his newly-acquired ability. His mental energy, his chakra reserves for this function, screamed in protest. A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through his skull.
One tag. Two. Three…
Ten. Twenty. Thirty…
One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred…
Starting with agonizing slowness, one at a time. Then faster. Faster. A hundred at once. The terrifyingly rapid growth in efficiency happened in the span of a single, held breath.
The explosion… never came.
Confusion washed over every face.
They opened their eyes. The walls were bare. The explosive tags were… gone.
"What… what happened?"
"How is this possible?"
"Where are the tags?"
Konoha ninja rubbed their eyes, disbelieving.
"Hatake!"
Shisui, standing close, saw the color drain from Hatake's face in an instant. He understood.
The boy in front of him swayed, his body listing before he forced himself to steady.
Shisui was at his side in a flash, supporting him. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Was that… you?" His words were rapid, but held concern, not accusation.
Hatake kept his eyes tightly shut, battling the splitting headache. If a person's mental energy was a sponge soaked with water, his felt wrung out, bone-dry. He had no strength to answer.
Seeing his profound weakness, Shisui pressed his lips together. "Rest. I'll protect you." He looked up. The Iwa-nin lined the top of the earthen walls, looking down at them with cold eyes.
"Captain," the spiky-haired ninja frowned, surveying the trapped group below. "I thought Jiraiya was supposed to be with them? This doesn't look like a main support force."
Kitsuchi had also sensed something was off. He merely snorted. "Kill them anyway. They're Konoha. No loss."
"Yes, sir!"
The spiky-haired ninja gestured. Murderous intent filled the eyes of the surrounding Rock shinobi.
"Earth Style: Earth Dragon Bullet!"
"Earth Style: Rock Lodging Destruction!"
"Earth Style: Mud River!"
The very earth turned against them, transforming into a raging torrent of mud and stone aimed to crush and drown.
The Konoha ninja, shaken from their stupor, reacted. Five stood at the front, hands flying through seals in unison.
"Water Style: Water Breaker!"
A massive wave of water collided with the mudslide, diverting its course. The melee began.
They were up against a well-trained Iwa assault unit. Konoha's side consisted of ordinary Chūnin, including three fresh-faced rookies: Hatake, Shisui, and Jūri.
"Earth Style: Earth-Style Wall!"
A combined effort from several Konoha ninja rapidly elevated the ground beneath their feet, bringing them level with the Iwa-nin's position. Now, they held the high ground.
Hatake, still pale, leaned on Shisui.
His gamble had paid off. His storage space was a realm of absolute stasis. The thick stack of explosive tags now sat frozen inside, eternally caught in the moment before detonation.
Watching the chaotic skirmish unfold around him, a bold idea took root.
Pay them back in their own coin.
A flash of polished steel sliced through the air beside him. Shisui had drawn his sword, engaging two Iwa-nin who had lunged forward.
"Huh? Not bad, kid!"
Back and forth, Shisui's blade held them off. Their initial cocky grins vanished, replaced by wariness.
"Heard Konoha's a cradle for geniuses. Guess we'll just have to crush one in its crib today!"
Two more ninja moved to flank Shisui.
"Got another one over here!"
A female ninja pointed at the pale-faced Hatake, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "Look at this pretty boy. Scared white already!" She twirled a kunai around her finger, sauntering towards him. Her smile was pure bloodlust.
"Hatake!"
Shisui unleashed a Fire Style: Dragon Flame to force his opponents back, leaping to stand in front of Hatake.
Seeing Shisui's protective, hawk-like glare, the woman laughed. "Oh! A pair of lovebirds! How touching!" She wiped a nonexistent tear. "Such a pity… you're both about to die."
Hatake watched the chatty woman, his lip twitching.
Villains really do die from talking too much. Some truths are universal.
"Shisui," Hatake's hand came to rest on the shoulder of the boy shielding him. His eyes never left the woman. "Trust me."
Shisui hesitated for only a second. Then he stepped aside.
He trusted Hatake. Unconditionally.
Hatake was briefly surprised to note that Shisui's favorability rating had silently breached the 90-point mark.
"You little brats! Daring to make eyes at each other in front of me?!"
The woman's face darkened. She gripped her kunai and shot forward.
Hatake drew Shinsō.
A silver streak.
Two bloody heads thudded to the ground.
Shinsō's extension range had increased. From two meters to four. Once its blade was aimed, its speed was fate. Especially for cannon fodder like this.
"Another genius?"
More and more eyes locked onto Hatake.
Remembering his plan, he gave a light leap, landing atop a prominent, jutting boulder. In the midst of the large-scale brawl, his position was like lighting a beacon in the dark.
Impossible to miss.
He raised his voice, clear and carrying. "If any of you wish to test the edge of my blade, by all means, step forward." His gaze was calm, a faint, mocking smile on his lips. The aura of contempt and disdain he projected was palpable.
"With all due respect…"
He paused, letting the words hang.
"Every single Iwa-nin here… is trash."
Silence.
The clang of steel, the roar of jutsu, the shouts of combat—all of it vanished.
Every eye, Konoha and Iwa alike, was fixed on Hatake.
"Hatake… has he lost his mind?" Jūri blinked, looking at Shisui.
Shisui frowned. His instincts screamed that Hatake wasn't this reckless.
To the ordinary Konoha Chūnin, Hatake's behavior took on a different, heartbreaking meaning.
"Hatake… he wouldn't…" one Konoha ninja muttered, stunned.
"Don't…"
Another's eyes began to redden.
Was Hatake trying to draw all their attention and hatred? To buy us time to escape?
A jonin like Kitsuchi hadn't intended to bother with a child's taunts. But this level of audacity demanded a response. Iwa's dignity was at stake.
"Teach him some humility," Kitsuchi said coldly, stepping to the center of the Iwa formation, his eyes on the figure on the rock.
"Yes, sir!"
A wave of Iwa-nin surged toward Hatake. The sight was overwhelming, like a horde of zombies breaking from a pen.
Hatake stood on the boulder, Limitless fully active.
Then, he vanished.
Kitsuchi's pupils shrank.
That speed… It reminded him of someone. That Konoha genius dubbed the Yellow Flash of the battlefield—Minato Namikaze!
But this kid… he wasn't using any tools. He'd disappeared into thin air, not teleported like the Flying Thunder God.
A flash of purple fabric fluttered amidst the crowd. Hatake, now among them, closed his eyes, focusing intensely.
A terrifying shockwave emanated from his position.
Then… BOOOOOOM!
A sound like the sky itself being torn apart. The explosion originated at the center and swallowed the surrounding Iwa-nin in an instant. The blast wave kicked up a hurricane of dirt and debris.
Every Konoha ninja stared, jaws slack.
"Hatake…"
"Hatake!"
"HATAKE!"
Their cries were raw, cutting through the ringing in their ears left by the detonation.
"He's just a child!"
Tears streamed down faces.
In that moment, the Konoha ninja felt no suspicion about how Hatake had caused the explosion. No worry about whether any Iwa-nin survived. Only shock. Grief. And a crushing, tidal wave of guilt.
They were the adults. He was just a child.
And that child had just sacrificed himself to save them.
"No…!"
Shisui's nails dug deep into his palms. Blood welled and dripped to the ground. His eyes were wide, veins bulging. Within his blood-red pupils, three ominous black tomoe slowly rotated.
"Shisui!"
Hizashi Hyuga saw a blur streak past him into the still-settling cloud of dust. He snapped out of his stupor and gave chase.
Shisui plunged into the haze, desperately searching.
By all logic, at the epicenter of such an explosion, Hatake shouldn't have left even a shred of clothing behind. But Shisui searched anyway. Not for a body.
He believed Hatake wasn't dead. He believed in Hatake.
Perhaps fate favors the stubbornly faithful. Shisui's Sharingan picked out a form lying in a pool of crimson.
"Hatake!"
He lunged forward, fingers trembling as they sought the pulse at Hatake's neck.
A strong, steady beat thrummed against his fingertips.
Shisui's eyes burned. He gathered the unconscious boy into his arms, his heart finally sliding back into place from his throat.
He knew it.
"Damn brat! DIE!"
A roar thick with rage and the stench of blood came from behind Shisui. Someone had survived the hellish blast, clinging to life through sheer hatred and will.
The man's eyes were pure, feral murder. That explosion had wiped out most of their unit in a heartbeat.
Thuck.
The sound of a blade piercing flesh was starkly clear.
The Iwa-nin collapsed, revealing the figure behind him.
"Hyuga-sensei."
Shisui's arms holding Hatake still trembled slightly. The aftershock of sheer terror, the fear of loss, was a physical thing.
Hizashi Hyuga's gaze softened. Shisui's reaction told him everything. Hatake was alive. He too had been swamped by grief, but a memory had sparked—Hatake's mysterious bloodline limit. A tiny ember of hope had kept him going.
Jūri stood rooted. When he saw Shisui emerge from the dust, he sprinted over.
The sight of Hatake, covered in blood, hit him like a punch. He looked to Shisui.
Shisui gave a slight shake of his head.
The vice-like grip on Jūri's heart released. He let out a shaky breath. Their unspoken understanding told him Hatake was okay.
His gaze drifted to Hatake's face. Almost unconsciously, he reached out to gently brush aside the blood-matted strands of hair stuck to his teammate's cheek.
Only then did Jūri notice the fine, barely perceptible tremor in his own hand.
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