Juro blinked and stared at the spot where his comrade had been. His arms fell to his sides. His hands stopped forming seals. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again.
—Gōzu? —he asked, and his voice was like that of a child lost in an unfamiliar forest—. Gōzu…?
Something in his mind told him there should have been someone else. That he had been fighting alongside someone. That someone had been there just a moment ago, and now…
But he couldn't remember.
He blinked. His forehead creased. His hand went to his temple, as if trying to recall something he knew should be there but couldn't find.
—Who…? —he murmured—. Who was…? —his lips formed the question one last time without thinking, and then he stopped.
The movement to his left snapped him out of his confusion.
The group that had been sleeping began to wake. The effect that had kept the three Konoha shinobi unconscious was dissipating.
Juro stopped thinking about the voids in his mind. He simply acted.
His hands came together in a seal.
—Lava Style: Lava Demon Technique —
He spat.
The first lava ball burst from his lips like a miniature sun, burning with a heat that made the air ripple around it. He didn't wait to see where it landed. The second ball was already forming in his throat, and the third, and the fourth.
A volley of incandescent projectiles arced toward the group still stirring amid confusion and awakening.
Kagami moved before his brain finished processing what he was seeing.
There was no time to think. No time to analyze. Only his instinct, honed by years of war. His body lunged forward while his hands were already weaving the seals.
—Fire Style: Great Fire Destruction —
Fire surged from his lungs with the fury of a roused dragon.
Juro's lava slammed into Kagami's fire.
The collision was violent. Lava was denser than flames, but Kagami's fire was broader. The incandescent balls sank into the wall of fire like stones into a river, but the curtain of flames did not yield. The steam that rose was so thick it obscured the entire battlefield.
Kagami didn't wait to see if his technique had contained the attack.
His hands were already in his tool pouch, his fingers finding the scrolls he needed, tying them to kunai with a speed that only constant practice could achieve. In three seconds, he had eight kunai ready.
The projectiles pierced the steam curtain with a whistle that cut through the air. Behind each one, a tiny scroll unfurled in flight, its activation seals already gleaming with the chakra that ignited them.
The explosions shook the ground.
One after another, the detonations sent columns of mud and tree fragments skyward, creating a wall of smoke and shrapnel that added to the steam already obscuring vision. Kagami didn't know if his kunai had struck the enemy. But he didn't care. He only needed time.
He turned to check on his students.
Fugaku was on his feet, still unsteady, but his dark eyes were already focused. Chōji rubbed his head, his face tight with pain, but his legs held him.
—And Nawaki…
The boy with silver-white hair lay on his back in the mud, his back bloodied, his broken and burned arms spread at his sides like broken wings. He wasn't moving. His breathing was so faint that Kagami could barely make out the rise and fall of his ribs.
—Nawaki! —Chōji stepped toward him, but Kagami stopped him with an outstretched arm.
—Retreat! —he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument—. Now!
He crouched. His arms wrapped around the boy's small, bloodied body, lifting him from the mud. Noah weighed less than he should. His head hung limp against Kagami's shoulder, and the blood seeping from his ears left a dark trail on the jōnin's neck.
—Sensei! —Fugaku pointed back, toward the smoke screen that was beginning to dissipate, where Juro's silhouette was already moving through the vapor.
—Run! —Kagami shouted.
Chōji ran at the front, his large body moving among the trees with an agility that belied his size. Fugaku covered the rear, his eyes darting backward, his hand in his tool pouch, ready to throw anything that might slow their pursuer.
Kagami went in the middle, carrying Noah's body, the boy's breath against his neck, weak but steady.
They didn't look back and ran with all their strength for over an hour.
---
Noah woke to a pain that stole his breath.
It was a pain that wasn't in one place, but everywhere at once. In his chest, where Gōzu's note had fractured his ribs. In his head, where the sound had ruptured his eardrums. In his arms, his legs, in every muscle that had pushed his body to its limit and beyond.
He tried to move. That was a mistake. The jolt that shot up his spine was so intense his fingers curled into the cloth covering his body.
Kagami entered the room with two steaming cups in his hands. The scent of green tea filled the small space, mingling with the smell of damp wood and the ointments the medics had used on Noah's wounds.
—You're awake —he said, and there was relief in his voice that he didn't try to hide. He pulled a stool over to the cot and sat down, offering one of the cups—. The medic said you wouldn't wake until tomorrow.
Noah accepted the cup with hands that still trembled slightly. The warmth seeping through the ceramic was comforting, an anchor amid the pain still coursing through his body.
—The others? —he asked, his voice still raspy.
—Fine. Chōji has a concussion, but he's awake. Fugaku, on the other hand, didn't suffer any injuries. —Kagami blew on his tea before taking a sip—. We're all alive. Thanks to you.
Noah lowered his gaze to the dark liquid in his cup.
—It was my responsibility —he said, and the phrase sounded more adult than he intended—. I am part of the team, after all.
Kagami watched him in silence for a long moment. The tea steamed between them, and the oil lamp on the wall cast dancing shadows that made Noah's bandages look whiter than they were.
—There were two of them —Kagami said, not as a question, but as someone confirming a conclusion they had already reached.
—Yes —Noah nodded, his fingers tightening around the cup—. The one using lava was the bulky one, whom I assume you saw in person since we made it out alive. The other… he was a strange guy.
Kagami nodded slowly, not interrupting.
—The rain —Noah continued—. There was something in the rain. A sleeping poison, I think. We didn't notice because it didn't act immediately. That guy had a flute… the flute was the trigger. When it sounded, the poison already inside our bodies activated. That's why we all fell at once.
His fingers tightened on the hot cup, and he took a sip before continuing.
—I… managed to wake up. I used my chakra to cleanse the poison while pretending to be unconscious. When they got close… I killed the flute user —he said, the words coming out flat, without emphasis, as if he were reading a report—. I used… a secret technique. I managed to trap him. His sound jutsu dissipated with him, and you woke up afterward.
Kagami nodded slowly, his gaze lost somewhere on the wall behind Noah.
—Two sets of enemy chakra —he thought—. The one using lava was a Kiri shinobi with Lava Release. A rare and extremely lethal kekkei genkai. The other… sound techniques. Mist. The flute. Probably someone from the Sound Clan.
His hand dropped to the edge of the stool, his knuckles brushing the rough wood.
—A calculated ambush —he continued thinking—. Set up in advance. Rain infused with a sleeping poison, the flute as the trigger. It couldn't have been a mere coincidence. They were waiting for us.
His eyes settled on Noah, on the white-haired boy who barely reached his waist, yet had faced two elite shinobi alone while simultaneously protecting his unconscious comrades.
—Two against one —he thought—. Against a five-year-old. And yet…
Kagami recalled the traces on the battlefield. The splintered trees. The melted ground. The marks of a technique that didn't quite fit: wooden shapes that weren't remnants of the forest trees because they bore the unmistakable imprint of molded chakra.
—Wood Style —he thought, and the word resonated in his mind like a hammer—. So it's true. The First Lord's grandson inherited his ability.
He didn't look away from Noah, but he also didn't let his thoughts show on his face. There was no need to frighten the boy with questions he didn't have to answer. Not after everything he had done for them.
—But that wasn't all —his reflection continued as his sensory mind reviewed the data his Sharingan had gathered upon waking on the battlefield—. Two types of enemy chakra. And upon waking, only one corpse remained. The flute user… where was he? What happened to the second shinobi? What did Nawaki do to him that not even a trace of his body was left?
His gaze shifted to the bandages covering Noah's chest, the bruises peeking out from the edges of the gauze, and the burn marks on his left arm. All of them injuries a child should not have.
—You did well —he said finally, and in his voice there was something Noah hadn't heard before. It wasn't an instructor's approval to a student. It was something deeper, more personal—. You didn't just survive. You protected all of us. That… that's not something just any shinobi can do. Much less at your age.
He stood, the stool creaking under his weight. He walked toward the door, his steps silent on the wooden floor. At the threshold, he paused.
—Rest —he said without turning—. I'll bring you more tea tomorrow. And something to eat. The medic says you need to regain your strength.
His hand touched the doorframe.
—Nawaki.
—Yes?
Kagami didn't turn. But his voice, when he spoke, carried a weight Noah didn't know how to interpret.
—Thank you. For saving our lives.
He stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a soft click that echoed in the silence of the room.
Seeing that he was completely alone, Noah put his hand inside his inside pocket, taking out a blood-stained rag.
This was the blood shed by Juro during the battle.
This blood was a valuable genetic material with Lava Release Kekkei Genkai that would be very useful in the future if he discovered how to implant new genetic fragments.
Putting the rag in his 4D pocket, Noah lay down again and closed his eyes to sleep.