Hidden Leaf, Hidden Talents 127 (Patreon)

Ah, yes. Kill Kushina.

Truly, the pinnacle of brilliant ideas.

Shinji discarded Moryo’s suggestion before she finished making it. Leave it to a sealed demon to pitch murder as if she were offering him a limited-time discount.

He tuned her out and dropped to one knee. He took a kunai and scratched a message into the dirt floor of the cave. Minato needed to know he was testing the jutsu. Otherwise, the guy would freak out, drop his boot in the river, and run around crying.

Moryo kept yelling inside his head. “Hey! I’m talking to you! Stop ignoring me, you jerk!” She was throwing a tantrum in his mind because her pitch got treated like background noise.

Shinji ignored the voice, bit down hard on his tongue—ouch, that stung, bit it too hard—and smeared a streak of blood right across the ink on the back of his glove. Time to fly.

“Sōei Kuchiyose no Jutsu.”

White smoke flooded the cave.

When it thinned, Shinji was gone.

The shadow clone he had left inside the town stood in his place, though not for long. Its shoulders and ribs had swollen into misshapen lumps, as if the exchange had twisted its chakra structure on the way through.

The clone stared down at itself.

“Ugh. I feel like shit.”

Then it burst into smoke.

…

Shinji blinked his eyes open. The first thing that hit him wasn’t the scenery, but the smell. It smelled like someone had tried to barbecue a kitchen inside a house fire. He was standing right in the middle of the dining room, looking down at a wooden table cluttered with dishes. The food looked… well, it looked intensely cooked. Kushina’s hidden cooking talent had definitely done something to those ingredients.

“Shinji!”

A red blur crossed the room.

Kushina crashed into his chest and threw both arms around him. “You made it. I knew you would.”

Shinji staggered half a step before catching her.

Across the table, Mrs. Uzumaki watched them with a small smile.

“Well,” she said. “That was an entrance. It seems your jutsu works, Shinji-kun.”

Shinji looked down at the red hair buried in his shirt, then at the feast, and smiled. "Yeah. It works."

“Glad to see you arrived safely.” Yuhi said, looking up from his seat with a face that looked five years younger. The guy looked thrilled, though not because he was happy to see Shinji. No, the relief radiating off him screamed that he had just found a chance to escape the culinary disaster sitting right under his nose. He was already shuffling his feet, preparing to stand up and ditch the table under the guise of giving the returning hero some space.

Not happening.

Shinji reached out, dropping a hand onto Yuhi’s shoulder and pinning the man right back into his chair.

"Hey now. No need to get up on my account." Shinji said. “Sit. Relax. Just enjoy the meal.”

He looked across the table at Mrs. Uzumaki. She was trying to slide her chair back to sneak out.

Shinji smiled wider. "Same goes for you, ma'am. You shouldn’t focus on work all the time. Sit down, eat up. Kushina put a ton of effort into all of this, and it'd be a shame if her hard work went to waste. Right, Kushina?"

Her mother froze mid-retreat and shot Shinji a aggrieved look. You are dragging me into this?

Kushina missed the exchange. She released him and clasped her hands against her chest. “Yep. I worked so hard on this. I mean, the food is a bit burnt on the outside, but the inside is delicious."

“Then I’ll be the first to try it.”

Shinji picked up his chopsticks and grabbed a piece from the nearest plate.

Yuhi and Mrs. Uzumaki watched him.

Neither offered to join.

Cowards.

Even if the food looked a little questionable, refusing to eat it had never crossed his mind.

As a cook himself, Shinji knew better than anyone the sheer amount of effort, time, and energy that went into prepping a meal. You had to chop, you had to stir, you had to watch the fire, every step demanded time and attention. Even if the final result looked like it had been hit by a katon, the worst thing a human being could do was reject a meal someone had genuinely poured their energy into making. It was a matter of basic respect.

He put the piece into his mouth.

The outer edge crunched harder than it should have. Beneath that, however, the seasoning was decent.

He took another bite.

“Huh.”

Kushina leaned closer. “Well?”

“This is actually good.”

Her mouth opened.

“A few parts are too crispy, but the flavor is there. For your first attempt, you did well.”

Kushina threw both hands into the air. “I knew it! I can cook, dattebane!”

"Looks like it."

“Tomorrow I’m making a masterpiece.”

“Let’s start with another breakfast.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “You don’t think I can do it?”

He laughed. “I think making a masterpiece on your second attempt is putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Get comfortable with regular meals first. The masterpiece can come later.”

"Fine. I will practice. But I will make that meal someday!"

Mrs. Uzumaki finally picked up her chopsticks.

“That is a lovely goal, sweetheart. Just remember that cooking is not your only responsibility.” She selected one of the less-burnt pieces. “Did you finish the fuinjutsu exercises I gave you?”

Kushina puffed her chest out. "Yes! I finished the papers before breakfast! Every problem."

"Good girl. I suppose that earns you a pass on the slightly burnt breakfast."

She pouted and crossed her arms. "Mom. Stop calling it burnt. It's just a little crispy around the edges!”

Her mom laughed and waved her hand. “Yes, yes. Whatever you say, sweetie.”

Watching the mother and daughter bicker in real time, Shinji couldn't help but smile. A wave of genuine relief washed over him because, finally, he was actually here. He had managed to get inside the barrier.

He curled his fingers into a fist and rolled his wrist. No pain. No swelling. His chakra moved cleanly through every finger. On his end, the exchange had worked exactly as intended.

The same couldn’t be said for the clone. Swollen shoulders, twisted ribs, chakra pathways pulled so badly out of shape that the body had lasted less than five seconds. The formula could move him through the barrier, but something in the exchange was crushing the one left behind.

Good enough for a first test.

Nowhere near safe enough to bring Kushina with him.

“You barely ate anything, Shinji. Here, have some more.” Kushina reached across the table and dumped another serving onto his plate.

“…Kushina, this is enough to feed three people.”

“Crossing the barrier must’ve taken a lot out of you. Come on, eat a little more.”

Shinji looked at the small mountain on his plate, then at Yuhi and Mrs. Uzumaki. Well, Kushina had given him the perfect opportunity to make sure everyone received their fair share.

“Thanks, Kushina. But Shinku and your mom barely have anything left.”

He took the serving spoon and generously refilled both of their plates.

Yuhi slowly lowered his chopsticks.

Mrs. Uzumaki watched her portion grow with mounting dismay.

Shinji handed the spoon back with an innocent smile.

“There we go. Now nobody gets left out.”

Neither of them thanked him.

Mrs. Uzumaki surveyed the room. "Where is Konan? Why isn't she joining us?"

Shinji and Yuhi turned to each other.

Shinji remembered Konan slipping out early that morning while Kushina had been cooking.

At the time, he had assumed she wanted to explore.

Now the timing seemed far more suspicious.

“She’s fine,” he said. “My clone saw her heading into town earlier.”

Kushina frowned. “Why would she leave before eating?”

He picked up another burnt piece. “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

With their exits blocked, Yuhi and Mrs. Uzumaki started eating. Once they cleared the burned parts, the food was fine. They kept eating until the plates were clean.

Shinji put his chopsticks down, leaned back, and clapped his hands. "Thanks for the food."

With the meal done, Shinji wanted to talk about the jutsu. He needed Mrs. Uzumaki to look at the formula. If he wanted to carry someone during the swap without the warp hurting them, he needed an expert. He couldn’t risk using it on Kushina without testing it. If the warp broke her like the clone, that would be a mess.

He cleared his throat to get her attention, but she rose first. “Oh, I nearly forgot. I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Actually, ma’am, I wanted to ask—”

“I probably won’t return until late. Don’t wait for me.”

She crossed the room, stepped into the hall, and closed the front door behind her, leaving him standing there with his hand still awkwardly outstretched.

“Did you need her for something?” Kushina asked.

He dropped his hand and sighed. "Yeah. I wanted to ask about the jutsu. I need to figure out how to carry someone during the swap."

She blinked. "Carry... someone." she muttered under her breath.

Then she figured it out. Her face changed. He was doing this for her. He was trying to find a way to get her past the barrier to safety. Warmth filled her chest, and she smiled big.

“Well, we don't need my mom for that.” she said, hopping out of her chair. “The study has all kinds of old sealing records. Mom keeps copies from Grandma, Grandpa, and half our relatives in there.”

Shinji watched her bounce on her heels, considering it. Honestly, it wasn't a bad idea. With her mom gone until late tonight, he had a massive window of time.

He paused, turning his head toward the jonin sitting beside him.

“Yuhi, leave Kushina to me. Go speak with the elders. They’ve had more than a day to consider our proposal. Find out whether they’re close to making a decision.”

Yuhi gave a nod. “Understood, Taichou.”

Without another word, he slipped away.

Shinji turned and headed down the hallway toward the study. When he walked through the door, he found Kushina already deep in the zone. She was buried behind stacks of old literature, pacing back and forth along the shelves and pulling down heavy texts one after another. She dropped another massive pile onto the desk with a heavy thud, focused on her search.

“This one, this one... oh, and this is definitely about spatial seals, too,” she muttered to herself, her fingers tracing the faded spines before she grabbed another roll of parchment. “Maybe this one? Yeah, this looks right.”

“Thanks, Kushina. You found a lot.”

She waved him off and returned to the shelves. “It’s nothing. Oh right, I’ve been practicing the Shadow Clone Jutsu for the last two days. I can use it properly now, so I thought about learning your swap jutsu too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want to learn an S-rank jutsu after two days of using shadow clones?”

“I said I thought about it,” she said, pulling another scroll from the shelf. Her excitement faded as she ran her thumb over its worn edge. “I don’t like sitting here while everyone else is trying to find a way out. Mom, the neighbors, all the families in town... I want to help them too, the same as you.”

She carried the scroll back to the desk.

“But even if I started learning it today, there’s no way I’d master it before we need it. I’m not a genius like you.” She set it beside the growing pile, then looked up at him with renewed determination. “So instead of wasting time chasing something I can’t finish, I’ll help you finish yours.”

She turned back to the packed shelves and rolled up her sleeves.

“There has to be something in this house that can help. I’m going to find it.”

Shinji eyed the growing pile. “Maybe we should start with what you’ve already found. There’s enough here to bury us for a week.”

“Then I’ll find enough for two weeks. The aunties and uncles nearby have their own collections. I’ll ask what they have.”

"Kushina, wait, you don't have to bother the neighbors for..."

Before he could finish, she bolted right out of the study.

He stood alone in the quiet room, watching the empty doorway. He looked back down at the messy piles of research she had gathered for him in a matter of minutes. More than half were texts he recognized and had already read, but several were completely new to him.

She had found all of this that quickly.

A small smile pulled at his mouth.

With a soft chuckle, he formed a hand sign. In a puff of smoke, six shadow clones appeared around the table.

"Alright, guys. Kushina put her whole heart into finding these. Let's do her the courtesy of taking it seriously. No skimming, no dozing off."

The clones divided the piles among themselves.

Shinji pulled out a chair, opened the first scroll, and began reading.

…

Konan stared down at the shiny wrapper in her hand, her mouth watering. This was the special chocolate everyone in town had been hyping up about, and she had finally gotten her hands on one. She was just about to tear it open and take a bite when her sensor spiked.

A few streets away, a familiar chakra signature suddenly started moving erratically. It was the old grilled squid vendor. And right behind him, gaining fast, were four other signatures.

Konan looked down at the chocolate. It felt like it was actively seducing her, begging her to just ignore everything else and take a bite. But the squid vendor was a nice guy, he had actually helped her navigate the crazy lines just so she could get this chocolate in the first place. She couldn't just abandon him.

With a sigh, she stuffed the candy into her pouch, leaped up onto the nearest roof, and bolted toward the commotion.

It didn't take long for her to catch up, and when she finally got a clear view of the pursuers, she blinked in surprise. All four nin chasing the old man had vibrant red hair.

Uzumaki Shinobi?

Why on earth were they hunting down a civilian food vendor?

Then the old man vaulted over a fallen cart, twisted around a thrown kunai, and vanished around the next corner with enough speed to leave dust hanging behind him.

Uh, right. Definitely not a normal food vendor.

A retired shinobi, maybe?

She didn't have time to dwell on it. One of the nin kicked the old man in the back, sending him sprawling across the pavement. The other three closed in, and all four began beating him.

“Hey! Get away from him!”

She threw smoke bombs into the group. Smoke exploded, and she threw paper shuriken, forcing the attackers back. Moving through the smoke, Konan grabbed the coughing old man and dragged him into the shadows.

She ran fast, turning down alleys, using her senses to dodge the pursuers tracking them. When a signature got close, she changed streets, keeping them lost.

Finally, after twisting through a maze of back alleys, the signatures faded into the distance. They were safe.

Konan sighed. Beside her, the old man collapsed against a crate, wheezing and clutching his bruised ribs.

"Kid..." he panted, looking at her. "Thank you. I thought I was finished back there. Those animals would’ve beaten me half to death.”

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Why did they attack you?"

The old man grimaced, waving his hand. "Bah! Those punks are just a bunch of lawless hooligans, that's what! No respect for their elders at all!"

"But they looked like Uzumaki shinobi. Why would they be chasing a vendor?"

"Like I said, just delinquents looking for trouble," he grumbled as he struggled to his feet. "They probably just wanted a free meal and didn't like being told no."

Konan didn't buy it, but she offered anyway, "Let me walk you home. Or back to your shop. Whichever's closer. It's safer that way."

The old man shook his head. "No, no. You've done more than enough already, kid. I'll take the back roads from here. Get home safe, all right? Thank you again." He gave her a weak nod, stood up unsteadily, and started hobbling down the alleyway.

She watched his retreating back, her brow furrowing. Why would Uzumaki nin be chasing a retired shinobi posing as a squid vendor, and why was he trying so hard to cover it up? It made no sense.

She stood there for a second, then quietly slipped into the shadows, following him from a distance. She told herself she was only doing this because she was worried about his safety, not because she was incredibly curious. Yep. Definitely not because of curiosity. She was just a good girl doing a good deed.

Konan followed the old squid vendor. He bypassed the main roads, darting through several narrow alleys before finally slipping through a rusted side door of an abandoned warehouse near the edge of town.

She scaled the brick wall soundlessly, sliding through a broken window high up near the rafters. Crouching behind a stack of wooden crates, she looked down.

The old man wasn't alone. Standing under a single, dim hanging light was another man, younger but sharing the same sharp facial features. More importantly, this new guy had a massive scroll strapped to his back.

"You're late," the younger man said.

"I got jumped by the elders' dogs," the old man grunted. "Someone saved my skin. What's the status on the barrier?"

"It's ready." the brother replied. "I can carve a small door gap into the western barrier without triggering the main alarms. It’ll give us just enough space to slip everyone through."

The old man blinked. “Already?”

"We're activating it tomorrow," the brother continued. "I'll have our people at the rendezvous point by dawn. In and out, fast, before the elders know what's happening."

"Tomorrow?" The old man frowned. "That's too soon! I won't be able to round up everyone by then."

"We don't have a choice!" The brother slammed his palm on the crate. "The elders are getting suspicious. Some of my men were forcibly dragged off yesterday while trying to get supplies. If we wait any longer, we're all dead!"

The old man sighed. "What about the Konoha envoys? They're right here in town. Why haven't we reached out to them?"

"Konoha? You've lost your mind." He shook his head. "We begged Konoha for reinforcements how many times? Three? Four? They watched Uzushiogakure burn and sent nothing. Not one shinobi. Not one letter of condolence. And you want to go crawling back to them now? For all we know, they'll turn around and sell us out to the elders for a better deal."

Listening from the rafters, Konan felt a cold unease creep into her stomach.

The old man wasn’t merely a retired shinobi. He was an Uzumaki, and these people were planning to break dozens of families out through the barrier behind the elders’ backs.

So the clan wasn’t united at all.

They were frightened, divided, and already hunting one another through the streets while the Mist waited outside.

This was far worse than she had realized.

Swish.

Konan’s eyes widened. A faint sizzle sounded beside her ear.

Without thinking, she threw herself backward off the rafters. A split second later, a kunai embedded itself into the wood and the attached explosive tag detonated with a loud BOOM, blowing the crates to splinters.

She flipped in midair, landing on the dusty floor below. When she looked up, the younger brother was already standing on the edge of the high walkway, looking down at her with a glare.

"You were followed, brother," he said, his hand already reaching for another weapon.

The old man gasped, recognizing her instantly. "Wait, wait, stop. That's her. The kid I was telling you about. The one who saved me. If she hadn't come running, I'd be sitting in a cell right now."

The brother's eyes narrowed. His stance didn't soften.

"Then I owe her a debt for saving you."

He leaped down and landed heavily on the concrete a few meters away.

“But that doesn’t mean I can let her leave. She heard everything, brother. If the elders find out what we’re planning, everyone depending on us is finished.”

Konan’s senses flared again.

Eight more signatures were closing in behind her, spreading through the warehouse until every exit was covered. Her heart gave a nervous little jump. She had walked straight into their hideout, alone, and now they were surrounding her from every side.

Fighting would only prove them right.

She had to make them listen.

“Wait,” Konan said, raising her hands to show she was unarmed. “You’ve got it wrong. We’re not working with your elders. We came for Konoha’s jinchūriki, and we’re trying to get back to the Land of Fire as quickly as we can. We want out too.”

The brother let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, really? Then why are you still here?”

She hesitated.

He stepped closer. “You already found the jinchūriki, didn’t you? So what’s keeping you here?”

Konan opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

A small pulse of panic fluttered through her chest.

She knew they had come for Kushina. She knew they were supposed to take her back to the Land of Fire.

That was about it.

She had no idea why they were still here.

Shinji had never bothered explaining why they were still inside the town or what Yuhi had been discussing with the elders.

The brother waited until her silence became an answer of its own.

His eyes narrowed. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Heat crept up Konan’s neck. Her mind scrambled through every conversation she had heard since entering the town. Shinji had said nothing useful. Neither had Kushina.

Come on. Anything.

Then she remembered Yuhi complaining in the hallway, grumbling that the Uzumaki elders couldn’t agree on anything.

So they were arguing over something.

Maybe… Kushina wanted to bring her mother?

Or some relatives.

Possibly half the neighborhood. Kushina did seem like the type to decide that leaving without every auntie she had ever met was unacceptable.

And Shinji was probably going along with whatever Kushina wanted because she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Yes.

Obviously, that had to be it.

Konan swallowed.

“Because some of your people asked… to come with us?” she said, piecing the lie together as she spoke. “Kushina’s family, at least. Maybe others...”

She looked aside and rubbed the edge of her sleeve between her fingers.

“Yuhi-san has been talking to the elders about, um, about getting them out and finding somewhere safe for them afterward. They still haven’t agreed, so… so we’re waiting?”

The brother stared at her.

She stared back with her most innocent face.

“So Konoha really did offer to evacuate them,” he murmured.

Konan blinked.

Oh.

Apparently, her explanation had been much better than she thought.

“Yes,” she said carefully. “That. Exactly.”

He studied her face for a second before letting out a scoff.

"Then you're wasting your time," he said, crossing his arms. "The elders have no intention of leaving this town, let alone evacuating to the Fire Country. The crazy old fools are actually sitting in their council rooms right now, drawing up plans to try and retake Uzushiogakure."

She stared at him, genuinely dumbfounded. "Retake it? That sounds like a suicide mission. They can barely protect themselves within these walls."

"Exactly," the brother said grimly. "That’s why my people are fleeing tomorrow. We're not dying for their delusional fantasies."

"Then why are we arguing?" she asked. "You want your people out, and we're already trying to arrange somewhere safe for them. Help us, and they won't have to spend the rest of their lives hiding as refugees. Maybe we can even secure a place for your people in Konoha. That has to be better than wandering across the border as undocumented refugees in a foreign land."

The warehouse fell silent. The brother stared at her frowning as he processed her words. For a second, it looked like he was genuinely considering it.

“You make a reasonable offer.”

Konan released a small breath.

“But I still don’t trust you.”

Why?!

He gave a nod. Instantly, the eight hidden nin dropped down from the rafters and out of the shadows, encircling her.

"You'll be staying with us for now. As our guest," the brother said, turning his back to walk over to the table. "Once my preparations are done, I'll make contact with the rest of your friends. Then everyone can make a choice."

Before Konan could even think about processing that, a massive BOOM shook the warehouse.

The walls rattled, dust and plaster raining down from the ceiling as the sound of splintering wood echoed from the front entrance. Out in the main hall, one of the brother’s men screamed out in panic. "Ambush! The elders' henchmen are here! They found us!"

The brother whipped around, his face twisting into pure rage. He glared at Konan. “You led them here!”

“What? No!”

"You lying little bitch!" he roared. "So you were lying to us after all! Elders' pawns, the whole damn lot of you Konoha scum!"

Konan was dumbfounded by the accusation. "Wait, I didn't..." she started, but he wasn’t listening.

"Kill her!" the brother ordered the eight nin surrounding her. He urged his brother. "Brother, with me!"

The old man hesitated. He looked back at Konan, and whatever gratitude had been there earlier was gone, replaced by disappointment. Then he shook his head and followed his brother into the corridor.

Konan’s mouth fell open.

How did this become her fault?!

He was the one who had thrown an explosive tag inside his own secret warehouse. What had he expected?

And after everything she had done for the old man, he was still leaving her behind with eight angry nin without even hearing her side of the story.

Old people were supposed to be wiser than this!

Unfortunately, the eight angry nin surrounding her didn’t seem interested in hearing how unfair this was. Their weapons came up one after another.

…

Several streets away, Shinji was buried in the books and scrolls, his six shadow clones silently working through the piles alongside him. Suddenly, his head snapped up when the windows began to rattle.

His clones stopped reading.

Shinji crossed the study, climbed through the window, and pulled himself onto the roof. From the highest ridge, he spotted smoke rising above a group of warehouses near the edge of town.

He stared at the smoke, his mind immediately weighing the risks. Going anywhere near an explosion on foreign soil was a dumb move for a visiting shinobi. If he got caught at the scene, it could draw suspicion, create a diplomatic nightmare, and potentially blow their mission wide open.

Every sensible part of him said to stay out of it.

Unfortunately, staying sensible while half-blind was how people got surprised by disasters.

Shinji formed a hand sign. A fresh shadow clone popped into existence beside him.

"Go shadow Kushina. Make sure she stays out of trouble."

The clone gave a nod and disappeared.

Then Shinji turned toward the smoke and raced across the rooftops.

…

Minato hummed softly as he returned to the cave, carrying a rough basket woven from reeds and thin branches. He had spent the last hour gathering whatever ripe fruit he could find nearby, but when he stepped inside, the cave was empty. Shinji was nowhere to be found.

Instead, his eyes fell on the ground near the center of the cave. He set the basket down and walked over, looking down at the messy, coded scribble Shinji had hastily scratched into the dirt floor.

He let out a long sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Shinji had actually made him forage for an hour before taking off alone. He could have mentioned that before Minato searched half the forest for fruit he was apparently not planning to eat.

But before he could even erase the note, a tiny glint of light at the edge of his vision caught his attention. His stomach dropped, and his face instantly went pale.

He kicked off the cave floor and hurled himself through the entrance.

The cavern exploded behind him. Fire and broken stone burst through the entrance, and the shockwave hurled him across the forest floor beneath a rolling wall of black smoke. He caught himself on one hand, only for the familiar hiss of incoming steel to reach his ears. A rain of kunai descended through the smoke.

He lunged aside and vaulted onto a thick tree branch. The moment his feet touched the wood, he launched himself off again. It was a good thing he did, because a massive, high-pressure torrent of water slammed into the tree a moment later, snapping the trunk like a toothpick and reducing the branch to splinters.

Something huge came swinging out of the churning water.

A broad, scale-covered blade, wrapped in pale bandages and shaped more like a living club than a sword, swept for Minato’s chest.

Minato brought up his kunai with both hands.

Steel struck the bandaged weapon with a harsh clang. The impact jarred through his wrists and knocked the kunai aside, but he managed to push the blade past his body.

Mizuchi Hozuki drove his heel into Minato’s ribs.

The kick knocked him out of the air and sent him crashing into the ground.

Mizuchi landed several meters away.

“Mizuchi!” someone shouted.

Mizuchi froze.

A strip of paper clung to the side of his jacket, the ink already glowing.

He tore the jacket off and hurled it away.

It exploded in midair, scattering burning cloth and steel fragments through the trees.

A faint scowl crossed his face as he looked back at Minato.

Someone nearby broke into a laugh. "Gahaha. Puddle boy over here almost lost his head to a Konoha brat's little paper trick. Now that is a career highlight if I ever saw one. Absolute gold."

"Shut up, old man."

The laughter grew louder.

Minato wiped the blood from his mouth and looked around. Three shinobi stood between the trees, loosely surrounding him. Their clothes revealed little, but the bizarre blades in their hands said enough.

He pushed himself to his feet and drew another kunai from his pouch.

"I swear to god, Shinji. If I don't make it out of this place alive, I am going to find a way to haunt you for the rest of your life."