It had taken three minutes.
The lane was a wreck of intersecting wind-cuts. Onihei lay nearly cloven. Blood crept in thin red fans along the grooves.
On the roof, Shishidō swallowed. "It's—illusion. It has to be illusion. Iwa's file said his genjutsu is—"
Asakawa Ryō said nothing. Some truths rot slower if you don't expose them to air.
Sogetsu stepped over Onihei's body and began walking toward the roofline, unhurried, each heel-tap a measured knock on the heart.
"Do me a favor," he said without looking up. "Don't move. I'm busy and don't want to waste time chasing you."
Insult burned away fear. Shishidō dropped low; Nuibari flashed into his grip like a long, glinting needle, steel wires whispering from the pommel. Asakawa's Kabutowari—axe and hammer joined by a chain—rose to guard.
"We admit your ninjutsu, taijutsu, even your illusions are impressive," Shishidō grated. "But Nuibari and Kabutowari together will hold you."
"Don't underestimate the Seven!" Asakawa roared.
Sogetsu vanished.
It wasn't speed so much as missing frames—there, then not, then behind them.
His voice floated between their shoulder blades. "Sorry. No time for speeches."
He lifted an empty hand and cut.
Air tore like cloth. A seam opened across space itself.
Cold kissed their throats.
Two geysers of red wrote tall question marks in the fog.
Heads thumped from the eaves, bounced the slope, and rolled until they stopped at Nono's sandaled feet. Wide eyes still asked a last impossible question.
Nono stared, frozen. The scene refused to be an illusion no matter how hard denial groped at it. She wiped her eyes hard, looked again. Reality didn't budge.
Four of the Seven. Shibuki's thief, dead at sea. Onihei, halved. Shishidō and Asakawa, beheaded in a blink.
If the Mizukage heard this—
He'll go mad.
Something steadied in Nono. She clenched her fists, lifted her chin.
"I accept your terms," she said, voice firm. "If you can cut Danzo's leash, I'll do whatever you require."
Sogetsu turned on the ridge. In the dark of his eyes, a faint ripple moved—Hypnotist's warmth without the theft of will.
"A wise choice, Nono Yakushi." His gaze slid through the door of her mind, left a clean, gentle mark. "Find me Isobu, the Three-Tails. Then you go home. I'll handle the rest."
Nono's heart lurched. "A tailed beast… What do you intend—?"
"Obeying the Hokage's order," he said, letting the words carry. "We're going to make a scene—give the Mizukage something big to manage so he stops meddling elsewhere."
A breeze moved the fog; Sogetsu's lashes lowered a fraction. The world's edges wavered with the after-sting behind his eyes—a tiny price after Guillotine Wind layered over Body Flicker.
He exhaled, let the ache pass, and stepped down from the roof.
"Bring me your map and your lead on Isobu," he said. "And then pack. You're going home."
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