Daichi never finished his sentence.
Something prickled at the back of Ren's neck—the same feeling from the forest. Danger. Close. He opened his mouth to warn Daichi—
But the world exploded before he could speak.
"Ambush—!"
Kunai rained from the trees—sharp, deadly, everywhere. Ren threw himself behind a rock as one embedded itself in the tree where his head had been. Splinters showered his face.
Daichi moved like water. His blade was a blur, deflecting three kunai, then two more. His face was calm, almost bored.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted.
Sora's hands flashed through signs. A gust of wind knocked two missing-nin off their feet. She followed with three kunai in quick succession—each finding its mark.
But there were more. Six. No—eight. Their headbands were scratched out. Missing-nin.
Daichi engaged two at once, his blade singing. Kaito fought another, his claws tearing through flesh. But his movements were… off. Slower than usual. Ren caught him glancing toward the treeline—not at the enemies, but at something beyond.
What is he looking at?
Then Daichi screamed.
Ren turned just in time to see the enemy leader's blade sink into Daichi's side. The jonin staggered, blood pouring between his fingers. He'd been covering for Ren—taking a hit meant for him.
"Ren…" Daichi's voice was a whisper, barely audible over the chaos. "Go. Now."
No. No, no, no—
The enemy leader twisted his blade. Daichi's eyes went wide. Then, for a heartbeat, they found Ren's. His lips moved—no sound, but Ren read the word:
"Live."
Then the light left his eyes.
He collapsed.
The man who had taught Ren how to hold a kunai. Who had shared his lunch when Ren had none. Who had looked at him not as a burden, but as a student.
Dead.
Something inside Ren broke.
Not slowly. Not gently.
It shattered.
But there was no time to mourn. No time to scream.
The enemy leader pulled his blade free and pointed directly at Ren's hiding spot.
"There. That's the one. Don't let him escape."
Why? Why me?
Ren ran.
Branches scratched his face. Roots tried to trip him. His lungs burned. Behind him, the sounds of battle continued—steel on steel, shouts, screams.
Then Sora's voice.
"Kaito—help—!"
Ren glanced back—just for a moment—and saw Sora on the ground, bleeding from her stomach. She was reaching out toward Kaito, her eyes wide with fear and desperate hope.
Kaito stood over her.
He didn't move to help.
He just… watched.
Sora's hand trembled, reaching for him. "Kaito… please…"
For a second—just one—he almost moved.
Almost.
Then his face hardened. He turned and walked away.
Sora's scream followed him into the trees. It echoed in Ren's ears long after the forest fell silent. He couldn't shake it. He didn't want to.
Ren didn't look back again.
He ran until his legs gave out, until he collapsed behind a fallen log, gasping for breath. His hands were shaking. His vision was blurry—from tears or sweat, he couldn't tell.
They're all dead. Daichi. Sora. Maybe Kaito too.
And it's my fault.
He pressed his forehead against the cold earth and tried to remember how to breathe.
A twig snapped.
Ren's head shot up.
Someone was approaching. Not running—walking. Calm. Deliberate.
He grabbed a kunai—his last one—and pressed his back against the log.
If they find me, I'm dead. But I won't go quietly.
The footsteps stopped.
"You can come out, Ren."
Kaito's voice.
Ren's heart leaped. He crawled out from behind the log and saw Kaito standing in a small clearing, his clothes torn and bloody, but alive.
"Kaito! You're—"
"I'm fine," Kaito said. Too quickly.
"But Daichi and Sora…"
He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
Ren's shoulders sagged. "I know. I saw."
Kaito's eyes narrowed. "Saw? You ran."
The words hit like a slap. "I—Daichi told me to—"
"He told you to run so you could get help. Not so you could hide in the woods like a coward."
Ren opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Because Kaito was right. He had run. He had hidden. He had done nothing while his team died.
"I'm sorry," Ren whispered.
Kaito stared at him for a long moment. His expression was unreadable—cold, distant, nothing like the lazy grin Ren was used to.
"Sorry doesn't bring them back."
He turned and began walking east.
Ren followed. "Where are you going?"
"Back to Konoha. To report what happened."
"But what about—"
"There's nothing else we can do." Kaito's voice was ice. "Unless you want to go back and fight six missing-nin by yourself."
Ren fell silent.
They walked in the darkness of the forest, the only sounds their footsteps and the distant cry of birds. The sun was setting. Shadows stretched between the trees like grasping fingers.
Something isn't right.
Ren couldn't explain it. But the way Kaito moved—too calm, too composed—felt wrong. His best friend had just watched their sensei die. Their teammate. And he was walking like nothing had happened.
"Kaito."
No response.
"Kaito, stop."
Kaito stopped. He didn't turn around.
"What happened back there?" Ren asked. "How did you escape? I heard a scream. I thought it was you."
Silence.
"You heard Sora," Kaito said quietly. "She called for help."
Ren's blood went cold. "And? Did you help her?"
Kaito turned slowly. His face was half-hidden in shadow, but his eyes caught the fading light.
"What do you think?"
Before Ren could answer, a branch cracked behind him.
He spun around.
Two missing-nin stood at the edge of the clearing. The same ones from the ambush. Their clothes were stained with blood—Daichi's blood—and their eyes were fixed on Ren.
"You led them here," Ren whispered.
"I didn't lead them," Kaito said. "They followed."
Ren turned back to face him. "Why aren't you running?"
Kaito's lips curled into a smile. It wasn't his smile. It was something else. Something cold.
"Because I'm not your friend, Ren. I never was."
The words didn't make sense. They couldn't make sense. Kaito had been on his team for years. They had trained together. Eaten together. Survived together.
"What are you saying?"
Kaito stepped back, putting distance between them. The two missing-nin moved forward, flanking Ren.
"The mission wasn't random," Kaito said. "The ambush wasn't random. You were the target from the beginning."
"That's the one. Don't let him escape."
The enemy's words echoed in Ren's mind.
"But why?" Ren's voice cracked. "Why me? I'm nobody."
Kaito laughed—a hollow, bitter sound. "That's what makes it so funny. You really don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
Kaito opened his mouth to answer—
Ren felt it again.
That presence.
Closer now. Watching.
Then a cry cut through the forest.
One of the missing-nin fell, a kunai embedded in his throat. The other spun around, hands forming seals—
Too slow.
A figure dropped from the trees, blade flashing. The second missing-nin collapsed beside his comrade.
Ren stared at the newcomer.
Not Kaito. Not Daichi. Not Sora.
A stranger.
The man turned. His face was hidden behind a cracked mask, but his eyes—dark, sharp, ancient—locked onto Ren. Beneath the mask, Ren caught a glimpse of a scar—a spiral, like the one from his dream.
"You need to run," the stranger said. "Now."
"Who are you?"
"No time. They'll send more."
Behind them, Kaito was gone. Vanished into the trees like smoke.
The stranger grabbed Ren's arm and pulled him forward. "Move!"
They ran.
The forest blurred. Ren's legs burned. His lungs screamed. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
Behind them, he heard shouts. More enemies.
How many are there?
They burst into a small clearing. At the far end, a cave mouth yawned like an open wound.
The stranger pushed Ren toward it. "In there. Now."
"What about you?"
"I'll hold them off."
Ren hesitated. "But—"
"GO!"
Ren ran.
The cave swallowed him whole.