"Your request made no mention of shinobi pursuing you," Neji began slowly, arms folded across his chest. "Please explain yourself. The mission rank is looking at a B-rank upgrade at minimum."
Those gray, pupil-less eyes frightened Tazuna to the point of trembling. This seemingly quiet boy had killed two hired men without the slightest hesitation. Angering someone like that would cost more than it was worth. Tazuna was already prepared to tell everything he had previously concealed, but…
"Surely the client-san had reasons for withholding that information, right?" came a cheerful voice. The architect nodded rapidly.
Gai approached the genin and the architect, log still in hand. Without watching his step, he walked straight over the body of one of the Mist shinobi.
"Kgh," came a sound from beneath his foot.
Gai stared down in surprise.
"My apologies, shinobi-san," his face broke into a wide smile.
Neji activated his Byakugan and examined the prone body:
"Hm… he's still alive. My miscalculation. He needs to be finished off…"
Neji stepped forward with certainty.
"No need," Maito frowned, holding out his palm. His smile vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. "We are ninja, not hired killers. Besides, you already beat one to death," he said with displeasure, glancing at the chunin's corpse near the tree. "The second one is needed for information gathering."
"We already know who their target was." Neji's cold Byakugan gaze swept across the architect. Tazuna, seeing the swollen veins around the genin's eyes, broke out in a cold sweat.
"I… I'll tell you everything," Tazuna whispered hoarsely.
"So that's how it is," Gai drawled, tossing down his log.
As it turned out, the mission was not as straightforward as it had appeared at first glance.
The architect had decided to build a bridge connecting the Land of Waves to the mainland, to help restore the country's economic stability — and improve his own financial situation in the process. However, these plans were not in the interests of a certain Gato — a shipping magnate, one of the wealthiest men in the Elemental Nations. This individual had amassed his fortune through underground dealings, specifically drug trafficking and the smuggling of contraband goods.
Tazuna had known that Gato would try to eliminate him, because with a bridge in place, the magnate would lose his primary source of income. But Tazuna couldn't afford proper protection due to a lack of funds. That was precisely why he had sought the Third's help, submitting a request for a standard escort-and-protection mission against petty bandits. And Team Three had been assigned to him.
"That is undoubtedly unfortunate," Neji said coolly. He had already deactivated his Byakugan, which drew a quiet sigh of relief from Tazuna. "But you will still have to pay for this as a B-rank mission. And that's the optimistic estimate."
In Neji's opinion, this mission reeked of a setup from a mile away. There were far too many inconsistencies, and they puzzled the genin considerably. For instance — if Tazuna was being hunted, why had they only attempted to remove him now? Why not at the border of the Land of Waves? Did Gato have poor intelligence and only recently learned of the bridge's construction? Unclear.
Though that wasn't the main concern right now. Because it was entirely possible that one of the wealthiest men around wouldn't skimp on hiring high-rank assassins. In which case the mission could escalate to A-rank, or even S.
"B-but," the architect stammered, "we can't afford that kind of sum. The Land of Waves is poor…"
"You could have taken a loan from a bank," the genin cut the client off, "and you can also pay in installments. I'm certain the village administration can make an exception for you. I expect that after the bridge is successfully built, you'll have the funds to settle the debt within a reasonable time."
Tazuna deflated. The genin was right on all counts, but the man desperately did not want to pay extra money. Especially since he was already going to owe Konoha — or more specifically, the Sarutobi clan — a fairly significant percentage of the bridge's future revenue. That had been arranged with the Hokage. The old man with the pipe had most likely known the full picture of this mission from the start. Which was probably why he had hinted at a percentage in exchange for the Leaf Village's future patronage.
"What do we do with the Mist shinobi?" Ten-Ten asked, examining the body of the Kiri ninja.
Neji shrugged and turned a questioning gaze to his sensei. Rock Lee was busy training by the river at this point — more precisely, doing one-legged squats with a log on his shoulders — so the conversation about mission ranks or the fate of the enemy shinobi held little interest for him.
"The intelligence source needs to be delivered to Konoha," Gai began, examining the wounded chunin's body. "But we don't have the time. We're supposed to finish the mission in a week."
Neji chose to say nothing about that last statement. He considered finishing this mission in a week to be unrealistic, but arguing with their sensei was pointless.
"He likely doesn't know much," the Hyuuga said. "So it would be simpler to kill him."
Ten-Ten winced:
"Maybe we just leave him here?"
The girl preferred to avoid unnecessary killing.
"His people might come for him," the genin shook his head, "and find out from the Mist ninja the details of his encounter with our team. We don't know how many assassins were sent to eliminate the architect, so it's better to get rid of him."
"I've got it!" Gai exclaimed, striking his good-guy pose. "I know how to solve this problem!"
The jonin, smile still wide on his face, formed a sequence of hand seals, bit his finger, and slammed his hand to the ground:
"Summoning Technique!"
With a pop and billowing smoke, the outline of an unknown creature appeared. When the smoke cleared, everyone could see a massive red turtle with a Leaf headband around its neck and an orange band on its right leg.
"What do you need, Gai?" the summoned beast asked with a relaxed air, finding no apparent source of threat — unless you counted the half-dead chunin lying there.
The jonin, still radiating his white-toothed smile, grabbed the Mist shinobi by the scruff of the neck and placed him on the turtle's shell.
"Huh?" Ningame didn't follow.
Maito ignored the summoned animal's question, producing ropes from somewhere and proceeding to tie the shinobi to the turtle. A couple of minutes later the chunin was secured to Ningame's shell, the final knot tied in a neat bow.
"I'm counting on you!" Gai declared. "Deliver the prisoner to Konoha, to the Interrogation Division."
Ningame stared at the jonin, who was holding his good-guy pose.
Ten-Ten's palm met her own face. Neji's hand moved toward his face, but he caught himself and merely adjusted his headband.
"Hm, Teacher," Neji cleared his throat, "I don't think Ningame is particularly well-suited for this task."
"Come on, Neji," Gai folded his arms across his chest, "who else could deliver a prisoner to Konoha? I trust Ningame with my life…"
"Well…" Ten-Ten, recovering from her momentary daze, said, "Sensei, I have no doubts about your summoned beast's abilities, but…"
The girl's gaze lingered for a moment on the groaning chunin.
"Um… I'm afraid he won't make it to Konoha."
"Nonsense," Gai grinned again. "The Power of Youth burns within Ningame, just as it burns within all of us! He'll manage. It's only seventy or eighty kilometers from here!"
The turtle swallowed, then turned its head toward Maito. At first Ningame thought Gai was joking, but the man, despite his wide smile, was serious. A drop of sweat formed on the turtle's face. The last thing Ningame wanted was to haul some random person on his back — especially eighty kilometers.
"Teacher," Neji spoke up again, "Ten-Ten isn't talking about the summoned beast — she's talking about the Mist chunin. He won't survive the journey to Konoha with that injury. I shattered his spine. How fast can your turtle actually move?"
"I won't cover that distance in a week even without a load," Ningame answered in Gai's place. "Let alone with one."
"Hm…" Maito fell into deep thought.
The situation was at an impasse. The mission needed to be wrapped up as quickly as possible, but they also needed information from the Mist shinobi. They couldn't kill the chunin, couldn't abandon the mission, and sending one of the genin back to Konoha served no purpose.
"I've got it!" Enlightenment descended upon the jonin. "In the name of the Power of Youth, I'll do it myself! I will personally carry the Mist spy to Konoha!"
Gai bent down to the turtle and lifted it above his head.
"What the hell, Gai? Put me down!" Ningame protested, waving its legs in the air.
"Um, Sensei," Ten-Ten looked at her instructor skeptically, "where exactly did you find the spy?"
"He probably means the Mist chunin," Neji suggested. "Sensei — we could be attacked without you here. Splitting up seems like a questionable idea…"
"Don't worry, Neji!" holding the turtle above his head with one hand, Gai gave a thumbs-up with the other. "I'll be back in a flash. You won't even have time to turn around before I'm back!"
The jonin's thick eyebrows drew together into one solid black line. He gripped Ningame's yellow underside firmly with both hands:
"Eight Gates!.. Fifth Gate: Gate of Closing — open!"
The jonin's skin flushed deep red, and his body began radiating a greenish aura. The pressure of his power, accompanied by sharp gusts of wind, forced the genin and the architect to step back. The turtle set about cursing Maito extensively, but he only bared his teeth in a grin.
"In the name of the Power of Youth!" Gai roared and launched himself toward Konoha.
A crater formed where the jonin had taken off, and those present were pelted with chunks of earth and small stones. One of the larger stones struck Tazuna directly in the forehead, and the architect dropped, losing consciousness.
"Why… did he run with the turtle?" Ten-Ten mused, watching the pillar of dust with a thoughtful expression. Neither the genin nor the kunoichi paid the collapsed architect the slightest attention. "He only needed to deliver the Mist ninja?"
"Well," Neji said, brushing dirt from his clothing, "it's Gai-sensei. Maybe it's some kind of training," the Hyuuga suggested.
"For the turtle?" Ten-Ten smirked.
Neji snorted:
"For the Mist ninja. Honestly, finishing him off would have been more humane…"
"So tell me, buddy — doesn't it bother you, working the archive or standing gate duty like this? It's just so…" the shaggy-haired shinobi with a white face wrap and a mark on his chin tried to articulate the thought, but was cut off by his work partner.
"No, Kotetsu. There is duty, and as shinobi of the village we are obligated to fulfill it," Izumo said, taking a sip from his flask. "And this job has its advantages."
"Come on," Kotetsu adjusted the pale wrap on his face and looked at his friend skeptically. "What advantages does being a gate guard have? You won't even let me nap."
Izumo thought for a moment, glanced back at the open Konoha Gates, and gave an indefinite wave of the hand holding the flask, nearly spilling its contents.
"Maybe," Kotetsu said with a theatrical sigh, "the advantage is that I always have you nearby," the shinobi puckered his lips playfully and leaned over to kiss his friend as a joke.
Izumo snorted and plugged the chunin's mouth with the flask like a pacifier for a baby. The other man latched onto it, but after a while, having drained the contents, began listening to something.
"What's wrong?" the shinobi asked, seeing his friend tense.
"Shh! Quiet," Kotetsu hissed, handing back the flask. "Do you hear that?"
Izumo scratched the back of his head. He had thought at first that he was imagining things, but with each passing moment the sound was growing closer.
"Hm. I hear it. What is it?"
"I don't know," Kotetsu shook his head, drawing a spiked-shell mace from a Fūin scroll that appeared on the ground. "But we'd better be ready."
Izumo nodded and prepared to form seals for a water technique. Though the area around Konoha had ample patrols and ANBU posts, still — you never knew. Someone might have slipped through undetected. Better to be overcautious. And ready to raise the alarm.
A few breaths later, when the chunin's nerves were stretched to the limit, they heard someone cursing loudly — and then something green landed heavily before them.
"In the name of the Power of Youth!" something red-skinned and radiating a green aura roared. "I have delivered the spy to Konoha! Take him!"
The green creature dropped a turtle onto the ground, with a shinobi tied to its shell. The turtle itself appeared to be considerably unhappy with the treatment, and its subsequent cursing was audible throughout the surrounding area of Konoha.
The green something then flashed a smile at the gate guards, gave a thumbs-up, and disappeared back into a cloud of dust.
"What was that?" Kotetsu asked, looking back and forth between his friend and the turtle.
"Well," Izumo scratched the back of his head, "probably Gai. His summoned beast," the chunin clarified, pointing at the turtle.
Kotetsu shook his head and put his spiked-shell mace back behind his shoulder. Izumo also visibly relaxed and smiled.
"G-good ev… urgh…" Ningame managed. He barely suppressed a gag reflex. After all, not everyone could survive the "Youth Attraction" of Maito Gai. The Mist shinobi, for instance, had been fortunate in that respect — he had simply lost consciousness.
Ningame's red face had taken on a noticeable bluish tint following the jonin's sprint. The turtle swayed from side to side. He was thoroughly motion-sick.
"Will someone get this… get this thing off me. He's heavy!.."
The chunin guards hastily set about untying the masked Mist shinobi.
"Damn Gai," Ningame grumbled. "Hurry up, I'm about to be sick!.."
"Come on, Saitama!" Anko looked at her student sternly. "Read aloud what you wrote."
Saitama shook his head for what felt like the hundredth time. Anko rolled her eyes:
"Why are you being so coy, like a girl before her first kiss?"
"Anko, the last time I read aloud was in primary school."
"Come on, come on," Mitarashi insisted. "Don't shirk your studies."
The bald shinobi looked utterly miserable. The last time he had felt this low was after the battle with Asura Kabuto, when he had confused Friday for Saturday and nearly missed the supermarket's discount sale.
Saitama let out a heavy sigh and began reading what he had written in a quiet, monotonous voice.
Today he had spent several hours transcribing the kunoichi's lecture notes, but had done so on autopilot. The hero's consciousness had periodically checked out. Mitarashi had given him preventive thwacks with a thick geography textbook whenever she noticed that Saitama had fallen asleep and his hand had begun scrawling across the table instead of the paper. The bald man's reaction to the thwacks was only slightly above zero — he would yawn afterward and stretch lazily in his chair.
"Louder and with expression," Anko said in an instructive tone. "You need to think about what you're reading."
"Right," Saitama said with a doomed look out the window.
Beyond the rooftops and treetops, the sunset was blooming in a pinkish haze. Dinnertime had long since passed, and Saitama was still sitting there, suffering through disciplines that were of no use to him.
The bald hero's stomach gave a demanding growl, to which Anko only snorted.
Knock-knock-knock.
Someone knocked loudly at the front door.
"Are you expecting someone?" Mitarashi asked.
"Um…" Saitama scratched his bald head. "No, not really…"
"Fine, stay there — I'll get it," Anko frowned. Late-night visits usually boded nothing good. Especially since neither she nor Saitama was expecting anyone.
The kunoichi opened the door and squinted at the ANBU shinobi standing on the doorstep.
"Mitarashi Anko," the masked man began, "the Hokage requests your presence."
"Who's there?" Saitama asked lazily, peeking around the corner.
The young man was already chewing on something. In his hand was a mug that read "Oppai" with a drawing of two semicircles — something he had cut out and painted on himself a couple of days ago.
"Take a break for now," Anko waved. "I'm going to the Hokage. I'll be back soon…"
"Ahem," the ANBU cleared his throat, cutting the kunoichi off. "Actually, Hokage-sama wished to see Saitama-san as well. He is expecting both of you."
"Has something happened?" Mitarashi asked.
"I wouldn't know," the shinobi spread his hands.
"Let's go, Saitama," Anko said, stepping over the threshold.
"Can I finish eating first?"
Anko rolled her eyes, then began tiredly massaging the bridge of her nose.
"Alright, alright," Saitama said, taking a sip from his mug. "I'll bring a sandwich…"
Gato was furious. He had thought eliminating the architect would be trivial — especially with his wealth and influence. But Gato had moved too slowly. Had he paid attention to Tazuna earlier, his business would not now be under threat.
At first, when the shipping magnate had learned that someone was building a bridge between the Land of Waves and the mainland, he had merely laughed. A construction project like that required people and money — and a considerable amount of money at that. And what madman would dare to threaten His business — both legitimate and underground?
But time passed, and the construction continued. Gato had sent his men to intimidate the populace, conducted extortion, even killed workers by staging accidents. But at some point he realized he needed to eliminate the instigator of the whole affair. He had hired professional assassins who specialized in killing — specifically, a group of missing-nin from the Hidden Mist, led by a certain Zabuza. However, the target had already left the Land of Waves by then.
"You failed the mission?" Gato spluttered. "You called yourselves first-class assassins? What exactly am I paying you for?"
"Stop whining," Zabuza picked up his enormous cleaver from his knee and leveled it at his employer's face. "This time I'll handle it personally. My blade will be the last thing he ever sees."
The mafioso, staring at the sword, swallowed and began to sweat profusely. He glanced at his bodyguard. But the man — despite his considerable size and impressive musculature — was trembling like a small animal before a large predator. The bandaged shinobi seemed to radiate a killing aura.
"Are you sure?" Gato pulled himself together. "He has hired strong ninja to protect him. Even the Demon Brothers couldn't defeat them — one was found dead, and the other's body was never recovered. To eliminate the target and the protection, you'd need someone with exceptional abilities…"
"And who exactly do you think you're talking to? I am the Demon of the Hidden Mist, Momochi Zabuza. And I will kill them…"
Killing intent blanketed the room. Even a trio of chunin hunched nearby visibly tensed.
"A-alright, I'll leave this to you," Gato tried to keep his voice from shaking, without much success. "Let's go!" he said to his bodyguard and hurried out the door.
"These shinobi are so infuriating," the mafioso hissed quietly, surrounded by five tall bodyguards. "No respect for the people who hire them…"
He had already left Zabuza's shack and was in a thoroughly foul mood. He was usually feared and respected — and this hired blade had dared to wave his cleaver right in his face. And to top it off, had told him to "stop whining."
The grim surroundings did nothing to improve the impression of the meeting: dark forest, fog, and the shack and its vicinity bathed in the mystic pinkish-purple light of the setting sun.
Throwing unfriendly glances back at the shack over his shoulder, he muttered:
"I normally conduct honest dealings. But you, you bastard, won't see a single ryō…"
"Good evening, Gato-san," came a calm, young voice.
The bodyguards immediately bristled with weapons, shielding their boss from the possible threat.
"There's no need for concern. I won't harm you."
A young man who looked about seventeen stepped out from the shadow of a tree. He was dressed in a black cloak adorned with red clouds and a high collar. A headband on his forehead marked him as a shinobi.
"Who are you?" Gato tensed. The mafioso wasn't certain the young ninja had come with peaceful intentions.
"I'm here to offer you a partnership," the shinobi said, ignoring the question. "Our organization has been hired to eliminate a certain target. And according to the latest information, that target will in all likelihood be arriving in the Land of Waves."
"And what does that have to do with me?" the mafioso scowled. "Feel free to eliminate whoever you like. What concern is it of mine?"
The young man's face was completely unreadable. As though he hadn't heard the question, he continued:
"You want Zabuza to dispose of the architect, but he has no chance whatsoever against the team that Tazuna hired."
"How do you know…"
"We know a great deal," the shinobi continued. "But that's beside the point."
Gato stared expectantly at the stranger. The sun had now completely disappeared from view, plunging the forest into darkness. The light from the stars and the young crescent moon barely penetrated through the canopy. The creaking of branches in the wind, the hooting of owls, and other such sounds did nothing to bolster the man's courage. He was the first to break the silence:
"Speak plainly. What do you want?"
The stranger's mouth curved slightly at the corner — though in the dark, it couldn't be seen.
"We need your money."
The words left Gato feeling sick. He had only a rough idea of what shinobi were capable of, but even he could see that five bodyguards was not nearly enough to deal with a single ninja.
"Seize him!" Gato shouted, then turned and ran back toward Zabuza's shack — fortunately they hadn't gotten far. Perhaps the Hidden Mist shinobi could stop the stranger.
The bodyguards — all dressed in black suits with neckties — charged at the young man standing motionless before them. The shinobi's eyes flared red, and he swept his gaze across the men.
The bodyguards froze for a moment, then flung themselves at each other. Fists, clubs, and even knives came into play. The first bodyguard dropped with a slashed throat. Another caught a club to the temple. A third and fourth rolled across the ground, trying to strangle one another. The fifth lunged at the fourth with a garrote.
Gato glanced back to see how much time he had — and in that brief look registered that all five of his bodyguards were down. The boy himself had vanished.
"Oh, damn it!" he hissed. "Zabuza! Zabuza, help m—"
Gato tripped over a root. His glasses flew off. He tried to get up quickly, but as he raised his head, he understood: it was over. Everything inside him went cold.
The stranger towered over him like a cliff face. His eyes burned with a vivid red light. For a moment Gato thought he could see comma-shaped marks rotating in those scarlet irises.
"A d-demon…" Gato whispered. He felt a warm spreading beneath him. "H-have mercy…"
The demon crouched and began speaking in a flat, emotionless voice:
"Let's call this a test of my professional aptitude." The light in his eyes faded, and the young man surveyed the five bodies in the clearing. "I told you I wouldn't harm you. Perhaps you misunderstood me slightly. We need money, but we have no intention of killing you. We are an honest organization. We merely wanted to offer you protection, and assistance in removing your competitor… for a certain fee."
Gato burst into tears like a child. Tears mixed with snot ran down his fat face — tears of relief.
The young man crouching over him showed no reaction to the blubbering magnate. He appeared to be somewhere else in his thoughts. After a couple of minutes Gato pulled himself together, rose to his feet, and wiped his nose on his suit sleeve.
"So — are you willing to cooperate?" the shinobi asked, straightening to his full height.
"I am. Your terms?…"