Blood trickled down the corner of Mizuki's mouth again, hot and metallic. This time, instead of spitting it out, he forced himself to swallow it, as if refusing to show even one more sign of weakness. His hands trembled slightly as he wiped the remaining blood with the back of his sleeve.
He turned and looked toward the distant silhouette of Konoha one last time.
Not with hatred.
Not with fear.
But with a complicated mixture of regret, bitterness, and unwilling hope.
Then, without a word, Mizuki staggered away from the village, heading toward the edge of the barrier.
The explosion he caused earlier had been enormous—so loud it shook the forest floor. It would definitely draw attention from Anbu, the Konoha Police Force, or any nearby shinobi patrol. If they caught him now, he wouldn't even have time to explain before being cut down.
He had struggled desperately to defeat a Jōnin. The battle had pushed his body to its limit, and yet he managed to survive. But survival was not guaranteed—not anymore.
He needed to escape before his luck ended.
Even wounded, his will to live surged through his body like fire.
He would not die here—not after finally understanding his own path.
Just as he reached the boundary of the Konoha barrier—
A mocking voice came from behind him.
"You're quite capable, I'll admit. With intelligence like that, you're above the usual wild dogs on the street."
A slight pause.
"But still… not good enough."
"Pfft!!!"
A sharp sound cut the air.
Mizuki froze.
A cold shock ran through his veins.
Before he could even turn around, a long blade thrust through his lower back, piercing through his waist and coming out the front. The agony was instant and overwhelming, as if all his life was draining out through the wound.
"H-How…"
Behind him, the voice continued casually, as if discussing the weather.
"Oh, and I forgot to ask earlier—when exactly did you form that avatar clone? If you don't mind, you can tell me now."
Another pause.
"I'd rather not be bitten by a wild dog again. I'm sure you understand."
Mizuki struggled to move his neck and finally turned his head.
Yamanaka Kaze stood behind him, orange hair glowing in the sunlight. His expression was calm—almost relaxed—completely unfazed by the previous battle.
Other than a few burns on his clothing, he was practically unharmed.
Mizuki's heart sank.
Everything he did… all the risks he took… all the pain—all of it had been meaningless.
But hearing Yamanaka's taunting question again, Mizuki couldn't stop himself. He gave a bitter smile and collapsed to his knees, his strength fading rapidly.
He felt the cold shadow of death creeping up beside him.
"The moment… of the Dragon Fire…" he whispered.
Blood gushed from his mouth again, and the light in his eyes dimmed.
So close.
He had been so close.
He had finally discovered his path—a way to become strong, a way to surpass his limits without shortcuts. He finally understood that detours were not shortcuts, and shortcuts were not the real path at all.
He had believed that once he left Konoha, he could make a name for himself.
He could repay Uchiha Souji, who had shown him guidance.
He could even seek out Orochimaru, a legendary figure who accepted anyone talented enough.
The world was vast. As long as he had the will to grow stronger, he could survive anywhere.
But now, all of that was slipping away.
He had wasted too much time thinking time was infinite.
Only now—on the edge of death—did he understand how little he had left.
Yamanaka Kaze chuckled softly.
"Oh right… your name was Mizuki, wasn't it? Don't worry. I'll find you a nice wooden plank to lie on."
He slowly pulled the blade out of Mizuki's back. Mizuki gasped, collapsing fully to the ground. The world around him blurred.
In Yamanaka's mind, Mizuki had only changed at the last moment.
At first, he was a cowardly shinobi who avoided hardship.
Later, he was a fool naïve enough to believe he had outplayed a Jōnin.
But just moments before, Mizuki had shown genuine determination—true resolve.
If not for his betrayal, perhaps Yamanaka might have taken him in.
But fate worked differently.
That was when the air suddenly froze.
A cold voice echoed through the forest, cutting cleanly through the tension.
"What… did you do to my dear subordinate?"
Yamanaka Kaze's eyes widened abruptly.
Mizuki's fading vision brightened again, a faint spark igniting inside his dying heart.
"Dragon Ripple!!!"
"Buzz!!"
A razor-sharp vibration split the silence. The pitch was so shrill and violent that the moment it hit Yamanaka's ears, his hearing vanished completely. Blood poured from his ear canals, dripping down his neck.
Stunned, he attempted to use chakra sensing in desperation.
But it was too late.
His world suddenly spun upside down.
"Dragon Hammer Flash!"
The final thing Yamanaka Kaze saw was a figure descending from above—a young man with black hair, controlled movements, and a sword gleaming in his hand.
A single, perfect slash.
A flash of silver light.
And then—
Darkness.
His head fell from his shoulders and rolled across the forest floor.
Uchiha Souji stood silently, flicking the blood off his sword before sheathing it. The moment the blade fully locked into its scabbard, Yamanaka Kaze's sight disappeared completely.
His body fell backward, lifeless.
Souji exhaled deeply and turned toward Mizuki, who lay collapsed on the ground.
"Idiot," he muttered softly.
He knelt down, took out several pills—soldier pills, healing pills, detox medicine—and shoved all of them into Mizuki's mouth, not even bothering to separate them.
Then he sprinkled medicinal powders all over Mizuki's wounds, coating him like seasoning.
Mizuki choked and twitched weakly, swallowing the mixture.
Although none of these medicines were miracle cures, Mizuki's main issue was blood loss and shock—not fatal organ destruction. A ninja's body might be fragile like paper, but their ability to survive was monstrous.
That was why shinobi endured centuries of war.
When Mizuki finally swallowed everything, Souji sighed with relief.
He stood up, dusting his hands, and turned toward the headless body of Yamanaka Kaze.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Well… I suppose that settles the score," he said quietly.
In truth, Uchiha Souji had been watching the entire time.
He hadn't intervened earlier because he was waiting for one opening.
Yamanaka Kaze may have been weak in direct combat, but he was still a Jōnin—a veteran.
If Souji hadn't attacked the moment Kaze lowered his guard, even he might have failed to protect Mizuki.
And Mizuki?
He would have died long before Souji struck the killing blow.
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