"Looks like this is going to be troublesome..."
Imai Kenta exhaled a long breath, watching as the thickening fog swallowed the treetops.
Whenever he was with Uchiha Kai and Hyūga Aya, trouble never seemed far behind.
Last time, it was a near-death mission—and right after surviving that, they were blowing up a bridge. Now, they were cornered by Kirigakure ANBU, deep in enemy territory, shrouded in mist.
But Kenta didn't dwell on it. There was no time for that.
He just hoped Uchiha Kai would someday settle down as "Deputy Minister of the Konoha Police Department" and stop dragging his team out on missions full of… unspeakable secrets.
With a sharp breath, Kenta silently drew his ninjatō. His grip was tight, hands slick with sweat. His whole body trembled—tension curled like a spring inside him.
Suddenly, a gust swept past him.
Whirling on instinct, Kenta slashed at the source—but his blade met only empty air.
It didn't help his nerves. His eyes were wide, darting through the mist.
Clink! Clink! Clang!
A chorus of kunai whistled from the fog. Kenta couldn't tell where they were coming from—every direction at once.
Snarling, he spun and slashed wildly, metal clashing against metal as kunai collided with his blade.
He blocked most of them—barely—but a few slipped through. Shallow cuts bloomed across his shoulder and thigh. Blood soaked into his uniform.
He gasped for air, chest heaving. His eyes were wild with panic.
Cold sweat rolled down his forehead. The oppressive mist. The silence. The invisible enemy... it was all closing in on him.
"...Pitiful," a low voice murmured beside his ear.
"Let me put you out of your misery."
"Who's there?!" Kenta shouted, panic tightening his throat. He slashed behind him again—but nothing.
"Tch. Is this the standard of Konoha ninja?" the voice sneered, drifting through the fog like a ghost. "How disappointing. Don't worry—it'll all be over in a second."
A blade whispered through the mist.
SHIK!
The sound of steel slicing through flesh echoed. Imai Kenta's body split open—cleaved in half, blood spraying through the fog.
"Such a waste," muttered a figure emerging from the mist—armor-marked, Kirigakure ANBU mask gleaming.
"To think Konoha is sending kids like this," he said coldly. "And he wasn't even our target."
"Enough, Fujii," another Mist-nin barked, hidden deeper in the mist. "Don't get sentimental. Behead him and regroup. We still have to learn why Konoha is here—we can't risk exposing our objective."
"Yes, yes," Fujii Kirin muttered. He knelt beside the body—then froze.
Something was wrong. The blood. The organs. The expression frozen in death.
Too real. Too perfect. Too still.
Then he felt it.
Chakra.
"Genjutsu? No… a shadow clone?!"
His instincts screamed—but it was already too late.
A sudden flash. A blur of steel.
SLASH!
A blade carved silently through the mist, cutting deep into his throat. Fujii's hands flew up, blood pouring from between his fingers. His vision dimmed as a shadow stepped into view.
"What's wrong, Fujii?" the second Mist-nin called. "Hurry up!"
"No problem," came the answer.
The voice was identical. Tone, cadence, rhythm.
Fujii's eyes widened in horror. He copied me—perfectly.
"You…!"
His last thoughts drowned in steel.
The remaining Mist-nin narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong. He gripped his sword. "Wait. Something's off—"
But before he could move—
Kenta appeared like a ghost.
Speed like a lightning flash.
His blade arced through the air, silent and deadly.
The Mist-nin tried to dodge, but he hesitated—his mind clouded by shock and a crucial mistake:
He underestimated Kenta.
There was no scream. Only a low gasp as the Mist-nin collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.
A glint of steel. A ghost of a smile. That was all.
Kenta stood over the body, breathing lightly. Calm. Collected.
He looked nothing like the panicked boy from earlier.
"That makes three," he whispered.
His eyes settled on the last Kirigakure ANBU, who now stood frozen, sword drawn.
Kenta smiled—almost kindly. "It seems your mission had nothing to do with Konoha. You're after something... sensitive, aren't you?"
The Mist-nin didn't answer.
Kenta tapped his chin theatrically. "Maybe you're trying to sabotage peace talks with Iwagakure? Or maybe you're chasing classified intelligence—something even your comrades don't fully understand?"
"Shut up," the last Mist-nin growled, eyeing Kenta warily.
"Ah, I hit a nerve."
Without warning, the Mist-nin bolted.
Kenta blinked, then laughed. "Wow. He's actually running."
He gave a casual shrug.
"Fine. I'll follow."
After all, he thought, leaping into the mist, taking down one last Kirigakure ANBU is easier than cleaning up Kai's mess.