"Ninja Art: Hidden Mist Technique!"
Six voices rose from the once-calm sea—six heads emerging from the water, each face different, some male, some female.
Their movements were nearly identical.
All six slowly exhaled streams of white mist.
The water vapor spread outward bit by bit.
Unlike the sudden, natural fog that engulfed everything at once, this controlled expansion lowered suspicion…
—at least as long as no Uchiha was present.
"Enemy attack!"
"Stop rowing!"
"Everyone, stay alert!"
"Yes, sir!" ×5
The two boatmen, terrified out of their wits, dropped their oars, hugged their heads, curled into balls, and squeezed their eyes shut, praying the attackers wouldn't slaughter them.
On the boats, Kurenai's student Ryūun and Shiranui Genma rose to their feet, kunai drawn, forming a triangular defense pattern while scanning all possible angles of approach.
"It's Kirigakure's assassination fog… the Hidden Mist Technique," Kaito said, standing on the other boat. His expression hardened.
"We need Wind Release to scatter the mist. If this continues, the situation will turn against us."
"Understood!"
Beside him, Nawaki began forming hand seals.
A C-rank Wind Release jutsu normally required six seals—he compressed it into three.
The brown-haired boy inhaled deeply and blew sharply.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
Fwoooosh—!
A roaring gust burst forth, an invisible hammer of wind pushing against the encroaching fog.
But this mist wasn't made by one Kirigakure shinobi—it was formed by six.
And among them were two jōnin.
"That's enough," someone said quietly.
One of the jōnin—a white-haired youth—rose fully from the sea and stood on the water's surface.
He wore the distinct uniform of the Kirigakure assassination corps, a mask etched with intricate patterns, and a sword strapped to his back. His gaze drifted toward the thick mist.
"Time to finish them."
Another jōnin surfaced beside him, this one older, his voice deep and gravelly—likely in his mid-thirties or forties.
"Besides the two civilians, there are six shinobi. One is a jōnin, one a chūnin."
"Leave only the jōnin alive."
He spoke as if reading off a grocery list—coldly defining how many would survive.
The younger masked one, the white-haired youth, glanced sideways at him.
"Why not leave just a genin alive?"
A dissatisfied sneer curled his lips.
"You're not doubting my ability to kill a jōnin, right? You can't be—right?"
"Keeping only the jōnin makes the story more credible," the older one replied, unbothered.
"Besides, the chūnin and jōnin look very similar. Likely relatives. Their deaths will deepen resentment toward Uzushio."
The youth chuckled.
"Or maybe they'll hate us instead."
"Enough. Move."
The older jōnin's tone sharpened.
"If they have several Wind Release users, our tactical advantage disappears.
And staging a 'miraculous escape' becomes much harder."
"Got it. Leave everything to me."
The youth stepped forward into the mist.
"After all…" He grinned beneath his mask.
"I'm a member of the Hōzuki Clan."
Within the fog, Nawaki's lips were practically peeling from blowing, yet the mist only grew thicker.
"Alright, stop. You're going to pass out from oxygen loss," Kaito said dryly, eyeing the boy's dangling tongue and heavy breathing.
Two C-rank Wind Releases hadn't cleared even a fraction of the fog.
This was no ordinary mist.
This was the combined jutsu of at least one jōnin or multiple chūnin—and they were still maintaining it.
"Sensei Kurenai, we need to retreat!" Kaito declared without hesitation.
If they didn't pull back now, the enemy jōnin would slip into the mist any moment.
Kurenai frowned, glancing at the sealed scroll tucked in her uniform.
"Kaito, this is a mission. Retreating this easily—"
Kaito cut her off—just like he once did to Orochimaru.
"Kurenai-sensei!"
"The enemy is Kirigakure—specialists in Water Release! We have two civilians to protect, and if they have two or more jōnin, can you really handle that?!"
His words hit like a thrown kunai.
Ryūun trembled.
Genma didn't even dare look up.
Kurenai's face darkened.
He was right.
But—
He was also out of line.
She was jōnin.
The mission commander.
And Kaito had no right to override her.
"The duty of a shinobi is to obey orders."
The admiration in her eyes vanished, replaced by cold clarity.
"The village's mission is absolute. Especially one tied to national interest."
"We. Do. Not. Retreat."
"…"
"Then what if I take First Squad and retreat on my own?" Kaito asked.
"Then go."
Kurenai closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, her gaze was steady, emotionless.
"But my team will not leave until our mission is complete."
She turned sharply.
"I'm giving you an order, Kaito."
Her voice was stern—no room for negotiation.
"First Squad will fall back to the village. Report that Kurenai Squad was ambushed by Kirigakure shinobi."
"Tell them I ordered you to retreat."
She didn't look at him again.
"Go! What are you waiting for?!"
"Genma! Move Hosokawa-san to Kaito's boat and cover their retreat!"
"Yes!"
"Ryūun, you—"
Shff shff shff shff—!
Before she finished speaking, four kunai sliced through the fog in perfect arcs, aimed directly at Ryūun.
"The first one."
Deep inside the mist, Hōzuki Chō—the white-haired assassin—marked the chūnin's death.
With jōnin-level speed combined with the sensory distortion of multi-layered Hidden Mist, only someone like Kakashi with Sharingan or a Hyūga with Byakugan could react in time.
A genjutsu-specialist chūnin?
Impossible.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Ryūun had thrown her hands up instinctively, eyes squeezed shut.
She heard steel collide in front of her—fast, sharp, and close.
After several seconds, she peeked open her eyes…
And saw a familiar back shielding her.
Kaito.
Of course.
"Just as I thought…"
Her voice trembled.
"You were never a genin."
Not even Kurenai had reacted in time.
But Kaito had.
And he had intercepted all four kunai meant to kill her.
Kaito exhaled.
"What a pain."
He didn't look back at her.
His eyes—cold and sharp—fixed on the mist ahead.
"Kurenai-sensei," he said quietly, "it seems my plan to retreat is completely ruined."
A chill spread through the air as his expression hardened.
"The enemy jōnin from Kirigakure… is already here."
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