Days ground on in a slow, relentless rhythm of vigilance.
Kawa Valley offered no mercy. Its winding trails birthed new traps with every sunrise—subtle, cunning, silent. Threads woven through dew-damp branches. Pitfalls masked beneath artful moss. Tripwires crafted from gut-string so fine even a trained eye might miss.
And always... that presence.
A breath whispered against the back of the neck. An unseen gaze. The valley was far from empty.
Naruto learned quickly.
Every step was measured, every twig eyed with suspicion. Shadow clones scouted silently ahead, their sudden dispersals flashing like warnings. Hayato offered no correction now — the quiet trust between them forged in these long days of shared danger.
By the third dusk, Naruto's thoughts moved like blades: cut, assess, advance. His body obeyed instinct sharpened by countless hours of living within the hunt. Sleep, when it came, was light as mist—one eye always open to the perimeter.
At camp, fires were scarce. Meals cold. Eyes never strayed far from the darkened woods.
The enemy remained unseen, but its intent weighed heavy. No random banditry now. These traps bore the signature of shinobi hands. Someone wanted them to bleed, to falter, to turn away.
Hayato stayed composed, but Naruto caught the subtle tightening in his stance—the readiness of a warrior primed for the storm.
The valley tests us still, Naruto thought. But we endure.
Morning — Day 10
Mist clung low and thick as they broke camp. The caravan's pace slowed, every driver's gaze flicking nervously to the treeline, every guard's knuckles white around spear shafts.
Naruto moved ahead again, blade sheathed, senses stretched thin but unyielding.
Then—a subtle shift. The earth grew firmer beneath his feet. The valley's oppressive weight lifted. Sunlight sliced through the shrouded canopy in slender shafts.
Stone walls relented. Trees gave way to wide, worn earth. The road opened—and through the morning fog, a silhouette emerged.
Stone towers. Iron gates. Watchful sentries upon high battlements. Kaigan—the fortified border town. Last stronghold before the wilds beyond.
Naruto halted at the tree line, eyes narrowing.
Movement on the walls. Armored figures shifting, bows drawn but not loosed. Suspicion hung thick—the valley's fear had seeped into even hardened defenders.
Behind him, Hayato's steady footsteps.
Naruto spoke without turning."They're on edge. Not just from us. They've been waiting for something worse."
Hayato's gaze swept the walls."Good. They'll listen."
Together, they stepped into view.
The gates remained shut. A voice rang down—hard, suspicious. "Identify yourselves!"
Hayato raised a hand in formal greeting. "Hayato of Konoha. Shinobi escort. Mission credentials for the caravan."
A tense pause. Arrows stayed nocked.
Then—a shout. Orders barked. The gates groaned, iron and wood straining.
Inside, Naruto caught the gaunt faces of soldiers—eyes haunted by sleepless nights—and traders clutching blades like talismans.
The fear was no longer for bandits.
The Pale Hall's shadow had already covered Kaigan.
Naruto's grip tightened on his blade's hilt. No words were needed.
The mission was far from over.
Now the real hunt begins.
[Inside Kaigan]
The gate sealed behind them with a metallic clang — sharp, final, like the closing of a tomb.
Inside, Kaigan was no safer than the valley — only brighter lit.
The streets breathed unease. Merchants peered cautiously from shuttered stalls. Patrols moved in pairs, blades half-drawn, fingers hovering near steel. The air reeked of old smoke, cold iron, and something older — the heavy scent of fear left to fester.
A sharp whistle cut through the tension.
A stocky man approached, clad in layered flak armor, the Leaf insignia faded but still visible. His beard was grizzled, eyes sharp beneath a furrowed brow.
"Hayato-san,"he greeted with a curt nod. "Later than expected."
"Being alive is enough," Hayato replied grimly. "The valley wasn't empty."
The man's lips tightened. "It never is anymore."
Hayato glanced at Naruto. "We need a debrief. Now. Somewhere with walls."
The man led them down twisting alleys into a weathered command post — barely standing against the creeping dread that swallowed the town. Maps lay scattered, field reports pinned like battle scars. The sharp smell of ink and ash hung thick in the air.
The door shut behind them.
"Talk," Hayato commanded."We need everything on the Pale Hall — movements, sightings, new players."
The officer rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You won't like it. Four raids this month. Precision strikes. No survivors left behind. Locals whisper Kurodan's name like a curse, but the true hand behind these attacks is darker still."
Hayato's gaze sharpened. "Who?"
The man exhaled slowly. "Raiga Kurosuki."
Naruto's heart skipped — cold and hard. A name from academy scrolls, whispered warnings in the village.
Hayato's eyes narrowed. "The missing-nin from Kirigakure."
"Exactly." The officer's voice was grim. "Former member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. Wielder of the Kiba blades — lightning forged into steel. His storms tear squads apart before they can draw breath."
Naruto,s fists clenched lightly — not with fear, but resolve. This was the caliber of shinobi he must one day surpass.
The officer continued, "But Raiga never moves alone."
Hayato's brow furrowed. "Who shadows him?"
"Ranmaru."
The name was unfamiliar, but carried weight.
Naruto listened intently.
"A child once,"the officer explained. "No longer. His dōjutsu pierces deception, through flesh and stone alike. His presence warps reality — traps masquerade as salvation, allies shift like enemies. He sets the stage; Raiga brings the storm."
Hayato's jaw tightened. "Together, they serve Kurodan?"
The officer nodded. "Not just serve — they shape him. Ranmaru marks the field with illusions and seals; Raiga follows with blood and blade. Two ANBU patrols vanished without trace last week — no chakra signatures left. Only a single mark burned into stone."
Naruto's voice broke the silence. "Where?"
The officer pointed to a red slash on the map — a narrow ravine east of Kaigan.
"Dead Man's Cut."
Naruto studied the terrain — sheer cliffs, no sky, no escape. The sort of place where even sound could be twisted.
He looked at Hayato. "We move at dawn?"
Hayato nodded. "No backup."
The officer blinked. "Two men against them?"
Hayato's voice was steel. "More would only feed the storm."
He turned, moving inside the room. Naruto followed silently, coiled and ready, blade at his side.
[Kaigan — Evening Before the Mission]
Night fell fast over Kaigan.
The lamps burned low, flickering weakly against the dark. Outside the thin walls of their lodging, distant thunder rumbled — though the skies remained clear.
Naruto sat cross-legged near a battered window, blade resting across his lap. His eyes traced its edge slowly, testing its weight, feeling its balance as if speaking silently with the steel.
Across the room, Hayato prepared with quiet precision — laying out seal tags, adjusting bindings on his short sword, checking the edge of a kunai with the calm of a seasoned shinobi.
Few words passed between them since the debrief. None were needed.
Naruto spoke first, voice low. "Ranmaru… his eyes see chakra, twist reality?"
Hayato glanced up. "Correct."
Naruto frowned, brow furrowed. "Shadow clones… they'll be vulnerable. Illusions could turn them against us."
Hayato gave a faint nod. "True. But clones are tools — expendable. Better they fall than your true self."
Naruto"s gaze sharpened. "Then I'll use them as probes. Press the edges of his jutsu."
"Good,"Hayato approved. "Adaptation is survival."
Naruto set the blade down and reached into his pouch. He drew a small brush and began marking a fresh scroll — storage seals for extra shuriken and wire. His hands moved steady, deliberate.
Hayato watched a moment, then spoke softly, "You've grown. The boy in the academy would've rushed headlong. Now you plan."
Naruto's brush paused — a flicker of old emotion stirred, but he said nothing, resuming the careful strokes.
Outside, the wind whispered along Kaigan's eaves.
Hayato finished arranging his tools and settled cross-legged opposite Naruto.
"This mission,"he said evenly, "is not for glory. Not all battles are won with the sword. Many are won by patience — by knowing when not to strike."
Naruto met his gaze. "Understood."
A silence fell — the kind forged only through battle and trust.
Hayato leaned back, closing his eyes. "Rest now. Your mind must be sharp. Raiga will test more than your blade."
Naruto nodded. "I will be ready."
He rose, sealed the scroll, set his blade within reach, and lay down on the thin mat.
His eyes closed, but his mind raced — replaying forms, seals, the map of Dead Man's Cut etched behind his eyelids.
No fear. No hesitation.
In the corner, Hayato's breathing slowed and deepened. But Naruto knew — his sensei would not truly sleep.
Neither would they.
Outside, Kaigan's walls seemed thin against the dark.
And deep beyond, in the forgotten folds of stone and shadow — Raiga Kurosuki and Ranmaru waited.