[Scene – Midnight, Eastern Wetlands – Outer Post of the Kawa Clan]
The outer watchpost was quiet.
Built of moss-covered stone and thatched wood, it looked more like a farmer's outpost than a fortified holding. But Shiroku knew better. The Kawa Clan had grown bold in recent months. Whispered rumors claimed they were hoarding rations, chakra ink, and crystal minerals meant for the village. Tribute unpaid. Taxes vanished. It reeked of quiet rebellion.
"Infiltrate. Confirm. Leave a message. Kill only if necessary."
That's what the scroll said.
But Shiroku knew what the mission meant.
Remind them who rules here. Infiltration Begins]
Water pooled beneath his feet, silently rippling as he emerged from the wetlands in fluid silence, his body near weightless. Years of stealth drills kicked in. A soft breath. A step into shadow. He phased into water, slid beneath the wooden floorboards, and reformed inside the post.
Three chakra signatures. Two asleep. One on patrol.
Shiroku crouched by a rotting pillar and waited.
When the patrol passed, he struck.
"Silent Mist Style: Drown Current."
A tendril of water surged up from beneath the floor, wrapping around the man's throat like a serpent. No time to cry out. No splash. Just a soft gurgle, and silence.
Shiroku laid the body down gently.
"No witnesses unless I want them."
Discovery and Warning]
The storeroom was full—rations in sealed crates. Chakra suppression tags. Two barrels of preserved chakra metal. All stamped for delivery to the Mizukage… months ago.
"Cowards," Shiroku muttered.
He sliced open a bag, just to be sure. Grain. Untouched.
Footsteps behind him.
One of the guards had woken.
"Who—?!"
Too slow.
"Water Style: Piercing Jet!"
A spear of water punctured the man's shoulder, pinning him to the wall. Shiroku approached, slow and quiet.
"You were supposed to deliver this to the capital. Months ago."
"We—We were waiting on safe passage! Bandits—"
Shiroku raised a finger.
"The Mist doesn't accept excuses. Only tribute."
He shoved a scroll into the man's shaking hands.
It bore the Hozuki clan seal—and one phrase written in blood-red ink:
"Delay again, and we come for more than your supplies."
Departure]
He left through the fog, the surviving guard still pinned in pain and terror. He would live—to talk, to warn, to fear.
The Kawa Clan would get the message.
Return to the Village, Report to the Clan Head]
Shiroku knelt in the clan chamber once more, drenched from the wetlands, eyes cold but focused.
"Mission complete. One wounded. One silenced. Supplies confirmed. Warning delivered."
His uncle leaned back, a slow smile forming beneath his weathered face.
"Efficient. Public. Brutal enough to scare… but restrained enough to blame them if they retaliate. You learn quickly."
One of the elders grunted. "If only all our heirs had your clarity."
Shiroku said nothing.
But his fists clenched slightly.
Shiroku's Inner Thoughts]
No cheers. No praise. Just another task checked off a list.
But they're watching. And they fear me a little more now.
Let them.
One day, even the Crystal boy will understand—strength isn't just power.
It's what happens when you make people flinch without raising your hand.
END