At that precise moment, an unexpected turn of events unfolded.
"You all withdraw first. I'll bring up the rear and cover your escape."
Sora's voice emerged lazily. He paused mid-stride while shouldering the large sack, then casually tossed it toward Yamato, who stood nearby.
Yamato instinctively caught it, the sudden weight causing his arms to dip noticeably.
"What?"
Yamanaka Kaede halted abruptly and turned back to face him.
"Cover the rear?" She echoed the words, one eyebrow arching sharply. "The Iwagakure shinobi haven't caught up yet. We've already secured the target. Instead of retreating at full speed, why linger behind?"
"Just a precaution," Sora replied, stretching languidly as his joints cracked with a series of sharp pops. "What if they have some secret tracking jutsu? I'll stay back to erase our traces and throw them off our trail. This is the kind of strategic foresight one expects from a captain."
He spoke with utter conviction, yet his expression clearly conveyed, *I'm exhausted—I just want to rest.*
Kaede shot him a sidelong glance.
"I see you're already slacking off on a mission the moment you get promoted to squad leader."
"It won't be long before we have to replace our captain."
"Hey, hey—don't go doubting the captain's brilliant decisions," Sora said, waving a hand dismissively in his characteristically relaxed manner. "This is tactics. Tactics—got it? Now hurry up and move, don't hold me up from doing the real work."
Yamato glanced at the sack on his shoulder, then back at Sora, hesitating as if he wanted to speak.
"Captain..."
"Follow orders."
Sora cut him off abruptly, the smile on his face vanishing for a fleeting instant.
Uchiha Itachi regarded Sora deeply for a moment, asking nothing. He merely nodded once to Yamato and Kaede before turning away first, his silhouette swiftly melting into the darkness of the night.
Yamato hesitated no longer. Hoisting the sack higher, he followed without delay.
Kaede glared fiercely at Sora one final time, tossing out a curt "You'd better take care of yourself" before vanishing into the shadows cast across the rooftops.
In the span of a heartbeat,
The once-bustling rooftop was left with Sora standing alone.
The lazy demeanor and playful grin drained from his face like retreating tides.
Slacking off?
Hardly.
This A-rank mission—to capture Hizuki—had merely been a convenient side objective, an appetizer.
His true intention was to "catch rabbits while cutting the grass."
Here in the Land of Grass lived another individual he was determined to claim.
A wandering orphan bearing pure lineage: the last surviving remnant of the Uzumaki clan.
Karin.
To Sora, whose ambition was nothing less than unifying the entire shinobi world, any talent left adrift outside was an invaluable resource that absolutely had to be reclaimed.
Especially someone like Karin, who had inherited the Uzumaki clan's extraordinary vitality and unique physical constitution.
He turned on his heel and slipped back into the chaotic throng of the black market.
This time, his objective was crystal clear.
He soon located the one-eyed information broker at his stall.
"Boss, we meet again."
The cyclops blinked in surprise at Sora's return, then quickly plastered on a broad, ingratiating smile.
"Young man, back already? Changed your mind? Looking to buy some truly explosive intel this time?"
Sora wasted no words. He placed a thick stack of banknotes on the counter with a heavy thud.
"I'm looking for a person."
The one-eyed man's lone eye locked greedily onto the pouch of coins; his throat bobbed visibly.
"The Land of Grass is vast—finding someone isn't cheap or easy."
"Red hair. A young girl. Immense vitality. Uzumaki clan." Sora's description was succinct.
At the mention of "Uzumaki," the broker's body stiffened perceptibly.
He darted quick glances around them, then snatched the coins into his embrace and leaned in close.
"What do you want with that cursed brat?"
"Not your concern."
"East side of the village—abandoned residential district. The very last dilapidated shack at the end." The broker rattled off the directions rapidly, then shooed him away. "Now get lost. Don't hang around here. Tangling with that bloodline only ends badly."
Sora departed immediately.
He wove through grimy streets reeking of decay and desperation.
Before long, he arrived at the teetering wooden hut.
The door hung unlocked.
He pushed it open.
A thick, nauseating blend of blood and medicinal odors assaulted his senses.
The interior was dimly lit; a frail, diminutive figure huddled in the far corner.
Vivid red hair—like living flames—stood out starkly against the gloom.
Karin.
At the sound of the door, she jerked her head up warily.
A small, dirt-streaked face framed wide eyes brimming with terror and guardedness far beyond her tender years.
Upon registering Sora's shinobi attire, she shrank even tighter into herself.
Sora did not approach right away.
His gaze settled on her exposed arms.
Slender limbs covered in a horrifying lattice of bite marks—old bruises layered beneath fresh ones, purple and raw.
Not a single patch of skin remained unmarred.
It was gut-wrenching to behold.
This was the cruel price of the Uzumaki clan's legendary vitality.
Her mother—that tragic woman—had been literally devoured alive by the villagers.
Now it was Karin's turn to suffer the same fate.
Yet no trace of pity stirred within Sora's heart.
Compassion and sympathy were indulgences he could not permit himself.
What he saw was merely a damaged yet still extraordinarily valuable asset.
He would mend the damage, then deploy her to maximum effect.
Switching seamlessly to his most disarming "sunny boy" persona, Sora took a couple of gentle steps forward.
"Don't be scared. I'm not a bad person."
His tone was warm, infused with a soothing reassurance.
"I'm here to take you away from this place."
Karin stared at him unblinkingly, her body drawn taut as a bowstring.
"Who are you? Are you... here to bite me too?"
Her voice quivered with suppressed sobs.
"Of course not," Sora maintained his gentle smile. "I'm from Konoha. An ally of the Uzumaki clan. I've come to rescue you."
Predictably, her defenses did not soften in the slightest.
She merely clutched her arms tighter, resembling a cornered, terrified animal.
Sora sighed inwardly.
The soft approach was futile.
For a child who had endured prolonged terror and abuse, any abrupt kindness felt like the prelude to yet another trap.
No point dragging this out.
The smile vanished from his face in an instant.
"Sorry about this."
He murmured.
"Huh?"
Karin had no time to process the words.
Sora's figure blurred and disappeared from her sight.
The next instant,
A palm struck the nape of her neck with exquisite precision and gentleness.
The force was calibrated perfectly—enough to render her unconscious immediately, yet causing no lasting harm.
Karin's eyes flew wide for a fraction of a second before all light faded from them.
Her small body went limp, slumping forward.
Sora caught her steadily and lifted her into his arms.
She was feather-light.
A child, weighing scarcely more than a leaf.
From his tool pouch he deftly produced another identical large burlap sack.
He carefully placed the unconscious Karin inside,
Drew the opening tight, and secured it with a professional knot.
The entire sequence was fluid, practiced—almost disturbingly so.
Clearly the work of a veteran kidnapper.
Sora slung the new sack over his shoulder.
Much lighter than the previous one.
He surveyed the decrepit room steeped in hopelessness one last time.
Then, without a hint of reluctance, he leaped out the window.
A few agile bounds later, he vanished into the labyrinthine structures of the Land of Grass.
Beneath the moonlight,
A lone figure raced across rooftops at blinding speed, a bulging sack bouncing lightly on his shoulder.
The sight carried an undeniable eeriness.
Night winds laced with the scent of wild grass brushed across Sora's face.
He darted swiftly between staggered rooftops with his lightweight burden, blending almost perfectly into the darkness.
Soon, three familiar figures appeared ahead, moving at equal haste.
Yamato, Kaede, and Uchiha Itachi.
Sora surged forward, closing the gap in mere breaths and landing nimbly beside Yamato.
"Yo, everyone—I'm back."
His tone was breezy, as though he'd merely stepped away for a quick break.
The trio halted in unison, turning to regard him.
And the brand-new, plump sack now slung over his shoulder.
Yamato with one sack, Sora with another.
No matter the angle, the scene looked utterly bizarre.
"You..."
Kaede spoke first, pointing accusingly at Sora's sack, her elegant brows knitting together.
"What exactly is that?"
Her question was blunt, leaving no room for evasion.
"Wasn't there only a single mission target?"
Yamato cast a questioning glance as well, his usually impassive face practically spelling out *Explain. Now.*
Only Itachi remained silent as ever.
He merely spared the new sack a calm glance, then looked at Sora before averting his gaze, as if the matter concerned him not at all.
"Oh, this?"
Sora shifted the sack to his other shoulder and flashed a radiant, almost blinding smile.
"My child bride I picked up on the side."
Silence descended like a blanket.
Yamato's expression froze solid.
Kaede's mouth fell open slightly; for a moment she seemed at a loss for an appropriate reaction.
A child bride?
Snatched from a black-market hellhole in the Land of Grass?
Picked up "on the side"?
That excuse was more absurd than claiming he'd stumbled upon a lost S-rank forbidden scroll by the roadside.
"Akashi Sora!"
Kaede finally snapped back to reality, her temples throbbing visibly.
"Could you possibly act serious for once? We're in the middle of an A-rank mission!"
"I'm completely serious," Sora replied with wide-eyed innocence. "Marriage is a grave matter—how could I treat it lightly?"
"You—!"
Kaede looked ready to boot him clean off the rooftop.
"Captain."
Yamato interjected calmly, cutting through their bickering.
"Please clarify the situation. Who is inside that sack? This directly impacts our post-mission report."
Ever the dutiful shinobi—mission above all.
Seeing Kaede fuming and Yamato deadly serious, Sora finally dropped the playful facade.
He knew the joke had reached its limit.
Any further, and Kaede might genuinely lash out.
"Alright, alright—no more messing around."
He raised a hand placatingly, his demeanor settling into something closer to normal.
"I'll report directly to the Hokage myself upon return."
"This individual is extremely important."
Extremely important.
Those two words caused both Yamato and Kaede to tense visibly.
Anyone Sora deemed "extremely important"—worth deviating from mission parameters to retrieve—was no ordinary person.
Sora offered no additional explanation.
He didn't need to.
As captain, his role was to issue orders and shoulder the consequences.
On his shoulder he carried Karin—this orphaned Uzumaki survivor, a priceless asset possessing elite sensory and support capabilities.
The Mind's Eye of the Kagura, combined with the Uzumaki clan's near-indestructible vitality and unparalleled healing factor.
For the fools of Kusagakure to reduce such a physique to a living blood bank was nothing short of criminal waste.
Since fate had brought her into his path, he would not let her slip away.
Prime material like this had to be reclaimed and positioned to realize its full potential.
"Enough standing around," Sora declared with a sweeping gesture, reclaiming his energetic captain persona. "Iwa pursuers could appear any moment—we need to move."
"Target secured. Mission accomplished. Now—full speed back to Konoha!"
"Barbecue awaits us at home!"
With that, he bolted forward first.
Yamato and Itachi followed instantly.
Kaede stomped her foot in frustration but swallowed her myriad questions and raced after them.
Four shadows and two sacks streaked beneath the moon, swiftly disappearing beyond the borders of the Land of Grass.
The journey home felt heavier with the added "baggage."
Kaede maintained a stony expression throughout, clearly still seething over Sora's unilateral actions.
Yamato dutifully guarded the rear, silently carrying the sack containing Hizuki.
Itachi drifted at the team's periphery as usual—an intangible ghost.
Sora, for his part, welcomed the quiet.
As they hurried onward, his mind turned to calculations.
This mission had been highly profitable.
Most crucially, he had tentatively solidified his absolute authority over the squad.
Despite the apparent chaos,
This lineup—Yamato's Wood Release, Itachi's Sharingan, Kaede's intelligence expertise, and himself—
Already resembled the embryonic form of the future Hokage's elite direct assassination unit.
Perfect.
Everything proceeded according to plan.
Just as he envisioned that promising future, the sack on his shoulder gave a faint twitch.
Hm?
Sora came to an immediate stop.
His three teammates halted behind him, instantly alert and scanning the surroundings.
"What's the matter?" Yamato asked in a low voice.
Sora didn't reply.
He lowered the sack to the ground.
The twitching grew more pronounced.
Accompanied now by faint, muffled whimpers.
"Mm… mm…"
Karin.
She had awakened.
Kaede and Yamato's eyes snapped to the wriggling sack.
This was going to be troublesome.
Sora scratched his head ruefully.
That chop to the neck should have kept her unconscious all the way to Konoha.
Was the Uzumaki constitution simply too resilient—recovering far too quickly?
The movements inside intensified, as though a frantic kitten were fighting to escape.
"Captain, this…" Yamato looked utterly lost.
They could hardly knock her out again in full view of the team.
"Quiet down!"
Sora gave the sack an irritated nudge with his foot.
The whimpering ceased at once.
But the reprieve lasted barely three seconds.
"WAAAAAH—!"
A piercing wail exploded from within the sack, slicing through the thick fabric and echoing across the silent forest.
The cry overflowed with raw fear, injustice, and utter helplessness.
Kaede: "…"
Yamato: "…"
Even Itachi's perpetually stoic face betrayed a rare flicker of disturbance.
What on earth was this?
Abducting a little girl in the middle of an A-rank operation—and now reducing her to tears?
If word of this reached Konoha, the Anbu's reputation would be in tatters.
"Hey! Stop crying already!"
Sora felt a migraine coming on.
He excelled at killing—not at comforting children. Spare him this ordeal.
Yet his words only amplified the sobbing.
"WAAAAAAAH—!"
"Be quiet!"
"WAA—sob sob sob…"
The wails dissolved into heart-wrenching hiccuping sobs, somehow even more pitiful.
Kaede's expression turned thunderously dark.
She shoved past Sora—who was still scolding the sack—knelt down, and cautiously loosened the knotted opening.
A disheveled red head emerged timidly.
Tear-streaked and dust-covered, swollen red eyes stared in abject terror at three masked "monsters" and one unmasked but infinitely more frightening "demon."
When her gaze met Kaede's, she shuddered violently and tried to retreat back inside.
"Don't be afraid," Kaede said, forcing her voice to soften as much as possible.
She removed her Anbu mask, revealing her refined, gentle features.
"We aren't going to hurt you."
Perhaps the sight of another female offered a sliver of comfort; Karin's sobs quieted slightly. She peered shyly at Kaede, stole a terrified glance at Sora, then hurriedly buried her face again.
Sora watched the scene and pursed his lips.
Should have hit her a little harder.
Amid this awkward, almost surreal standoff, Kaede—who had remained silent until now—suddenly froze.
She whipped her head around, staring back the way they had come.
"What is it?" Yamato tensed immediately.
"Pursuers," Kaede answered, her voice taut. "Powerful chakra signatures—multiple, at least two full squads. They're closing in fast, heading straight for us!"
Iwagakure shinobi.
They had caught up after all.
"Tch—troublesome." Sora clicked his tongue, the earlier irritation instantly supplanted by icy composure.
He roughly stuffed Karin back into the sack, retied it securely, and thrust it into Itachi's arms.
Itachi accepted the "package" wordlessly.
"You three—take the primary target and this girl and withdraw immediately," Sora commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
"And you?" Kaede shot back without hesitation. "We're a team—we advance and retreat together!"
"Together?" Sora turned to face her fully. The amber eyes that usually sparkled with mirth were now abysses of cold indifference.
"I am the captain now."
"My orders are absolute."
He stepped closer, locking eyes with her.
"Or does Senior Kaede intend to defy Anbu protocol?"
Kaede felt her breath catch under that gaze.
It wasn't a threat—it was a statement of unassailable hierarchy. The young man before her was no longer the teasing peer she could banter with. He was Squad Leader Akashi Sora.
"I…"
"Execute the order," Sora said quietly, yet the words carried immovable weight.
He turned away from her to address Itachi and Yamato.
"Protect them at all costs. Should the Iwa forces bypass me and intercept you, you have permission to abandon the primary target Hizuki—but this red-haired girl must reach Konoha unscathed."
Yamato and Itachi nodded in unison.
"Go."
Without another word, the three vanished into the forest depths, two sacks in tow.
Sora remained motionless until his teammates' chakra signatures faded completely from his sensing range.
Only then did he slowly pivot toward the direction of the approaching enemy.
Every last trace of pretense fell away.
"Seriously—forcing me to pull overtime."
He rolled his wrist, joints popping crisply.
"I was saving my strength for barbecue back home."
The next instant—
BOOM!
An overwhelming surge of natural energy erupted with him at its epicenter!
Perfect Sage Mode—activated in a single heartbeat!
Orange-red markings resembling divine script bloomed instantly around his eyes. His amber gaze turned majestic and detached, as though surveying mere insects below.
He extended his right hand, palm upward.
Violent chakra fused with natural energy converged, emitting a shrill, piercing whine.
A high-speed spinning Rasenshuriken—ringed like a planetary orbit—materialized in his grasp.
Yet unlike Naruto's azure Wind-style variant, the core of Sora's blazed a fierce, sun-like crimson!
Sage Art: Fire Release: Rasenshuriken!
At that very moment, more than a dozen figures burst from the distant tree line.
Clad in Iwagakure flak jackets, moving with practiced coordination, led by a seasoned jonin.
"There! He's alone!"
The pursuit team finally sighted their quarry.
But what greeted them was a figure wreathed in orange-red chakra radiance, cradling a miniature sun in his palm—a god descended.
"What the—?" The lead jonin's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
"No—that jutsu—!"
His alarm lasted less than a second.
For Sora had already flung the "sun" with casual indifference.
No elaborate hand seals. No superfluous flourish.
Just a simple throw.
The Fire Rasenshuriken carved a lethal arc through the air—not with the slicing keen of wind, but with the apocalyptic roar of superheated atmosphere.
"DISPERSE! NOW!" the jonin bellowed in desperation.
Too late.
KABOOOM—!!!
The Rasenshuriken detonated in a violent bloom.
A cataclysmic firestorm erupted outward from ground zero, devouring everything in its path.
Blistering temperatures reduced trees, stone, and the unfortunate Iwa shinobi—who never even managed to scream—to nothing but ash.
In a single encounter,
The entire first Iwa squad, captain included, was eradicated.
Not a single fragment remained.
"Tch—the destructive radius is still too focused."
Sora surveyed the devastation with mild dissatisfaction.
His senses picked up the second squad farther back—they had frozen in place, stunned by the explosion.
"Taking them one by one would be tedious."
"Let's end this quickly."
He brought his hands together with a sharp clap.
"Multiple Shadow Clone Technique!"
Poof!
An exact replica appeared beside him.
Body and clone began forming seals in perfect, mirrored harmony—different sequences yet synchronized in mystical rhythm.
"Sage Art…"
Both intoned in unison.
"Sage Art: Wind Release: Great Tornado Hurricane!"
"Sage Art: Fire Release: Majestic Dragon Flame!"
Two diametrically opposed yet equally senjutsu-amplified forces gathered before them.
A ferocious cyclone rose, piercing the heavens.
A roaring fire dragon plunged fearlessly into the tornado's heart.
Wind fed flame; flame borrowed wind's fury.
The fusion triggered a synergistic explosion far exceeding simple addition.
A towering fire tornado linking earth and sky erupted into existence!
It spun with apocalyptic fury, shredding the atmosphere, dragging everything into its maw. The ground was gouged into vast trenches, bedrock liquefied, the air itself screamed in protest.
The world narrowed to this doomsday spectacle alone.
The flaming maelstrom surged irresistibly toward the second Iwa squad.
"Aaaah—AAAAHH!"
Their final, despairing cries were swallowed instantly by wind and inferno.