A Startling Revelation!
That evening, at the temporary camp Shirō and the others had set up, he busied himself with further treating his injuries while Shikamaru and Nakamura quietly discussed their actions for the next day.
As for Taiyi, he remained silent, just as he had for the past two days.
Shirō and the others no longer tried to comfort him. Perhaps two days ago, they would have offered a few words of encouragement. But now, after seeing Taiyi awaken his three-tomoe Sharingan, they realized this was a burden only Taiyi himself could carry.
Shikamaru's background was already unusual, and Nakamura was a skilled shinobi in his own right. Between them, the matter of Taiyi's bloodline was no secret. They knew all too well what the maturity of a three-tomoe Sharingan represented: a decisive evolution born of powerful emotional struggle.
And struggles of the heart… could only be resolved within.
Still, they couldn't afford to let him stew unattended. Nakamura would occasionally guide Taiyi with a few well-placed words, if only to prevent his grief from festering into resentment toward the Village. That path would be far too dangerous.
Shirō, for his part, could only offer simple encouragement. He was no orator—his previous life as a shut-in had left him with little talent for persuasion. Eloquence, rhythm, and empathy were the tools of a leader, not his. So, after a few awkward words, he returned to his own concerns.
Right now, those concerns were his injuries.
The earlier field treatment had helped, but the fight with the Hoshigakure shinobi had aggravated his wounds. He faced a difficult choice: slow down and rest, risking delays in the mission, or press forward, worsening his body but keeping the team safe from ambush.
After weighing it, Shirō chose to push forward. Wounds could be healed later; the mission came first. A single failure here could mean all their deaths.
His performance earlier might have seemed effortless, but that had been under ideal conditions—a sneak attack. If they faced their enemies head-on, his team stood no chance. Even with his Eight Extremities Fist and Reinforcement, his strength was not yet stable. At best, he could hold off a jōnin briefly, but not without great risk.
Caution was their only lifeline.
As he bound the last of his bandages, a faint pulse echoed in his mind. His contracted serpent, Gray Snake, had dispelled its summoning and returned to Ryūchi Cave, signaling that it had finished gathering intelligence.
Shirō quickly set up a sealing scroll for notes before summoning Gray Snake once more.
"Gray Snake, I'll trouble you again."
"Hisss… hiss… two bird eggs, every meal, every day!"
Shirō chuckled. "Hahaha, alright, I'll add more for you. Honestly, Orochimaru-sama is stingy—doesn't even pay you wages." He shook his head, then grew serious. "Alright. Tell me what you've found."
The serpent hissed again, and Shirō nodded along.
Nearby, Shikamaru and the others had gathered, staring in stunned silence at the strange scene of one man seemingly conversing with a snake.
"You… actually understand snake language?" Nakamura asked, suspicious.
"Do you think I'm guessing?" Shirō smirked.
At that moment, Gray Snake's tongue flicked, and a clear, almost human voice echoed in the clearing: "What's so strange? I'm a contracted ninja beast, not some common garden snake."
The three boys froze, eyes wide.
"You can talk?!" Shikamaru exclaimed.
Even Shirō blinked. This was the first time he had ever heard Gray Snake speak aloud. Their usual communication relied on a secret mental technique, with the hisses serving only as a cover.
Unbothered, Gray Snake continued, "The intel is all here. I'll return now." With a shimmer of chakra, it dispelled itself back to Ryūchi Cave.
"Forget that for now," Shirō cut in, shifting attention back to the scroll. "Intelligence is the real problem."
He spread out the parchment, covered in Gray Snake's recorded observations.
"According to this, Sunagakure is no longer our immediate concern. The real threat is Kusagakure and Takigakure."
Shikamaru leaned closer as Shirō pointed at a section of the notes.
"The Grass shinobi have gathered a hundred fighters here—nearly a quarter of their Village's forces. That alone suggests they're guarding something important. Reinforcements could arrive at any moment."
"Which means," Shirō continued grimly, "after dealing with them, we must immediately move on to Takigakure. Delay even a little, and we'll be caught between them."
Taiyi, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "Isn't that natural? If Kusa's forces are this concentrated, Takigakure would be on edge."
Shikamaru shook his head. "It's more than that. Don't forget, Takigakure isn't weak. They have the Hero Water, and their Village harbors a Tailed Beast. Unlike Grass, they can afford to gamble."
Nakamura's brow furrowed. "How many jōnin are confirmed?"
"Two from Kusa. Only one from Taki… but with Hero Water."
"Shirō, what about your… decapitation technique?" Nakamura asked, eyes sharp.
"Two days. Then I can use it again."
"Good." Nakamura exhaled. "Then here's the plan: you'll handle Takigakure's jōnin. If the Hero Water's in his hands, that decides the battle."
Shirō frowned. "Captain, Hero Water grants immense power at the cost of the user's life. Would they really risk a jōnin for it?"
"If the prize is Uzumaki sealing knowledge? Absolutely," Shikamaru said coldly. "One jōnin's death is nothing compared to controlling that power."
The camp fell into tense silence.
Finally, Shikamaru closed his eyes, thinking hard. When he opened them again, his expression was set.
"No. The original plan won't work anymore. From tomorrow onward—"
"—the plan changes."
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