Hidden Leaf, Hidden Talents 133 (Patreon)

The Nagi elder was on his knees behind a row of burned out buildings at the edge of town. His hands tied, his face draining of color as the rain kept falling. He was breathing through his mouth now, ragged and shallow, and sweat was mixing with the rainwater on his neck even though he should have been freezing.

Three Uzushio shinobi knelt nearby, roped up and stripped of everything they'd been carrying. And Six Kiri nin surrounded them in a loose circle.

The elder's eyes jumped from one masked face to the next, like he was trying to find some kind of answer written on their skin.

"How did you even know?" His voice came out sharp, almost desperate. "How did you know we were using this route?"

Nothing. Just the sound of rain and the distant crackle of fires still burning back in town.

The silence stretched out, and the elder filled it himself, his mind working through the possibilities like he was clicking through a puzzle.

"You've got people inside the town. You have to." The words came faster now. "It was those old bastards, wasn’t it? They found out about our escape plan and sold us to you. They have been trying to stop us from leaving since the beginning. Even now, with the town burning, they would rather see us all die than admit they were wrong!"

One of the Kiri stepped over without warning.

The elder didn't even see the boot coming before it slammed into his ribs. All the air left his lungs, and he folded like paper, hitting the ground hard on his shoulder. His body spasmed. Then again. Mud plastered itself across his cheek while he gasped and wheezed, trying to remember how breathing worked.

"Shut your fucking mouth," the squad leader said. His voice was flat, like he was bored. "Nobody here cares what you think happened."

The elder tried to push himself up, but his hands were useless tied behind his back. He managed to get back onto his knees, shaking.

One of the other Kiri laughed. "You guys really thought that trick would work forever, huh?"

He waved his kunai as he spoke, and the elder flinched when its point swung his way. "We remember when your people pulled that stunt with the seals. They slipped right through our defenses, covered everything with explosive tags, and vanished before we could even react. You really thought we'd just let that happen again?"

The elder’s mouth opened, but no words came.

"So after that, we changed strategy," the Kiri continued. "We stopped relying only on sensors. We put people everywhere. Tunnels, sewers. You might be able to hide your signature, but that doesn't make you invisible."

"Your seals worked once. We made sure that wouldn't happen twice."

The elder stared at him, and his mind was racing in the wrong direction. It couldn't be true. There had to be someone on the inside. There had to be someone who tipped them off about the route!

The council had fought the escape plan from the start. They had threatened them, sabotaged them at every turn, called them cowards for wanting to leave.

Yeah. It had to be them.

They did this.

They had to have.

The squad leader glanced at the prisoners, then up at the smoke rolling above the trees like dark clouds.

"We're done here," he said. "You two clean this up. Everyone else, with me."

He turned and walked away. Three of the Kiri followed without looking back.

The elder jerked to one knee. "Wait!"

The squad leader didn't even pause.

"I did what you asked!" the elder shouted, his voice cracking. "I showed your people the tunnel. I told them how to get past the seals. You never would have reached that pillar without me!"

The leader was still walking, still not looking back.

Everything the elder had was falling apart. Fear was eating him alive now, stripping away anything that looked like dignity.

"Just me, then!" He was shouting now, almost screaming. "Take the others if you want. Kill them. I don't care. Just let me go!"

One of the bound Uzushio nin turned to look at him, and his face twisted with disgust. "You spineless asshole!"

"You piece of shit," the second one snarled. "We trusted you!"

The Kiri cracked up laughing, like this was the funniest thing he'd heard all week. "Oh man, listen to him. This guy sells out his own town, and now he's throwing his own people at us to save himself." He walked over, still laughing. "You really are lower than shit."

The elder tried to shuffle backward, but his knees slipped in the mud. "No, wait. We had a deal."

The Kiri raised his blade.

The elder looked at the three men he'd betrayed. None of them looked afraid anymore. They only looked at him in disgust.

The Kiri shinobi swung down.

And everything went quiet.

…

Kirara Terumi sat up in what was left of the grove and pulled out a handkerchief from inside her shirt. It used to be white.

She wiped the dirt off both cheeks and looked at the black smudge on the cloth like it was the most disappointing thing she'd seen all day. A twig was tangled in her hair, so she picked it out and tossed it away with a little sigh.

"Well," she said, looking at the massive crater in front of her, "that was pretty rude."

Most of the trees around them had been torn right out of the ground or snapped down to stumps. The spot where the Leaf kid had been standing was now a pit of dirt and roots and things nobody really wanted to look at too carefully.

A groan came from behind one of the fallen trunks.

She turned. "Oh, at least someone made it."

A Kiri shinobi dragged himself out on his elbows, huffing with effort. His sleeves were charred black, his hair was singed at the ends, and half his flak jacket was hanging open. He looked pretty rough, but most of the blood covering him wasn't actually his.

Another guy climbed out of a ditch nearby, covered in dirt from his forehead all the way down to his sandals. He checked himself over twice, made sure everything important was still attached, and let out this long, relieved breath.

"You two okay?"

The burned guy tested his shoulder gently, then winced. "Yes, Terumi-sama. Just some stuff that'll heal. Nothing stopping me from moving."

The dirt-covered guy straightened up real quick. "Your kindness already makes the pain feel so much better, Terumi-sama."

She smiled at both of them. "I'm glad you're not seriously hurt. Both of you."

She tucked the handkerchief away. "Oh, speaking of which, you guys seemed to know that Leaf boy. Do you know who he actually is?"

“Yes, Terumi-sama. That boy is famous. Mostly for his explosions.”

"Mostly?"

"They call him the Black Death. I'm guessing it's because he wears black, kills a ton of people, and then vanishes before anyone can complain.”

The dirt-covered guy nodded like that made sense. “Konoha was being crushed from several sides before he made a name for himself. After that, every rumor from the front seemed to include a boy dressed in black and a lot of dead shinobi everywhere."

Kirara looked back at the crater.

So the little thief was that kind of famous. She'd figured he was just some talented brat with quick fingers and way too much confidence. Turns out half the continent knew exactly who he was.

The burned guy scraped soot off his lips with his teeth. "People said he could make hundreds of clones, maybe thousands. Then he'd send them all straight at enemy lines and blow them up."

"Yeah, I heard that too," the other guy said. "But I never took it seriously. Like, an exploding clone just seemed like a couple of explosive tags with legs attached." He looked at the pit again. "I definitely wasn't expecting this."

The dirt-covered guy let out this low whistle. "Imagine that happening a hundred times during an actual war. I kind of feel bad for the Suna and Iwa shinobi who had to deal with him."

The burned guy slowly turned his head to look at the other guy.

"You're an idiot."

"What?"

"He did that to us too."

The dirt-covered guy just blinked at him.

The burned guy pointed to a boot sitting near the crater. There was still a foot inside it.

"He used one on us like a minute ago. And Sakai is literally scattered around us now."

The dirt-covered guy looked left, then looked right, and found at least two pieces of Sakai in those directions. "Oh."

He looked a little sheepish, like he’d only just realized he’d said something really dumb.

Kirara covered a laugh with her hand. "Don’t be too hard on him. We just got thrown halfway across the grove. I think he gets a pass for being a little out of it."

The dirt-covered shinobi looked at her like she'd just hung the moon. "You're still worried about me after everything that just happened. You really are just too kind, Terumi-sama."

The burned shinobi gave him a long look, then decided whatever he was thinking wasn't worth saying out loud.

"What should we do now?" he asked instead. "The barrier's down. Do we head into town and meet up with everyone else?"

"My, my, already jumping back to work after getting tossed halfway through the trees?" She stood up and brushed the dirt off her clothes. "You're going to make Mii-chan look lazy."

He just waited for whatever she was going to actually say.

She settled Nuibari across her shoulder. "Samehada left with the Black Death, and I doubt he plans to bring it back. There's nothing else we need to do here."

"So we join the siege then?"

She looked toward the smoke drifting over the town and made a face like she'd just tasted something sour. Going anywhere near that mess sounded like such a hassle. "Mm. I'd rather go find the Uzumaki archive scrolls. They still haven’t been found."

"But the Haze Unit and Black Mist Unit are already looking for them," he said, like it didn't make sense. "That's what they're trained for."

"Then they should've found those scrolls by now, shouldn’t they?" She smiled. "I'd sleep better if someone competent helped them out."

The burned guy didn't say anything. His face stayed neutral, but it was pretty clear what was happening. Kirara wanted to wander around, eat whatever food was left in the villages, mess with the search teams, and stay as far away as possible from the town where everyone was throwing jutsu at each other. This was what you got when the Mizukage's favorite relative became a swordswoman. She had the rank, the talent, and nobody was brave enough to tell her she was just goofing off.

The dirt-covered shinobi came up beside her. "That's a wise decision, Terumi-sama. The Mizukage gave you Nuibari because no one in the Mist has better judgment than you."

The burned guy closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. There was no saving these two.

Kirara laughed and started walking, then stopped at the edge of the crater.

One clone had done all of this. From what these guys were saying, the boy used to send hundreds of them into battle. If that was really true, wiping out everyone in this grove should've been nothing. Like, super easy.

So why were any of them still breathing?

Maybe he was running low on chakra. Or maybe he just wanted Samehada and didn’t think it was worth the effort to finish everyone off.

Then again, she had seen men make stupider mistakes around her. Plenty had gotten sloppy because they were too busy ogling her. But that didn’t fit the boy. During the whole fight, he had been watching her hands, her feet, and where Nuibari’s wire was going.

He hadn't looked at her chest. Not even once.

She frowned.

Most guys at least tried to sneak a peek. Even when there was a war happening right in front of them, somehow they still found time. This Leaf boy had just ignored that part of her.

Strange.

Maybe he just wasn't interested in girls.

Mm.

What a waste.

…

-Shinji-

Shinji caught up to the Mizukage a couple rooftops over and skidded to a stop. The tiles cracked under his boots.

Kushina was standing in the street below. Or at least something that used to be Kushina was standing there.

Red chakra was pouring off her skin like water, so much that the girl underneath had turned into just a shadow. Three tails were smashing through walls and roofs every time she moved. One of them punched straight through a shop. Another one crushed a chimney and scattered bricks across the street like confetti.

Three tails. Already.

The Mizukage landed across from her with one sleeve completely torn off. The old man didn’t look bored.

Was Kushina still in there? Shinji tried to read her face, looking for any sign that she was still conscious, still herself, any hint of the girl who’d made him burnt food this morning.

Maybe there was something in her eyes. Just a little. He couldn’t tell if it was real or if he just wanted it to be.

Either way, every new tail seemed to push her a little further away. If a fourth one came out, he really didn’t want to find out how much of Kushina would still be left.

He spread his senses out through the whole district. Shinobi were watching from rooftops and windows. Civilians were hiding behind doors, crammed under floors, hundreds of people still close enough to die when this all went wrong.

Right now, at least, she had a target. The Mizukage shifted to the left, and all three tails followed him like they were attached.

But the second he escaped, or died, or just disappeared, her rage would turn on whatever living thing was closest. And she wouldn't care what it was.

Punching out the Nine-Tails had never been on Shinji's to-do list. It hadn't even been on the list of crazy things that didn't deserve their own list.

His senses picked up Konan.

She was heading south with something in her arms, another chakra signature so weak he almost missed it. Mrs. Uzumaki.

Shinji ran.

Konan felt him coming before he got there. She folded up her wet wings and dropped down onto a roof, nearly shoving Kushina's mom straight into his chest.

"Sensei, please." Her hands were shaking against the woman's clothes. "Please hurry, She's—she's so badly hurt, I don't even know if she's going to make it, I don't know if—"

"Put her down."

A deep puncture wound gaped just below her shoulder, the blade having gone straight through into her chest. One lung had collapsed, and her heartbeat was barely there, a weak flutter struggling to keep going.

No wonder Kushina had lost it. She'd watched her mom get stabbed and probably thought she was dead.

She'd almost been right.

He sealed the damaged spots, fixed the lung, and pulled out all the blood that was trapped in the wrong places. Mrs. Uzumaki's whole body jerked as air got back into her chest.

"I-Is she going to be okay?" Konan was kneeling beside them, still shaking. "Will she?"

"She's going to be fine," he said, and he meant it. He'd dealt with way worse than this. "Did you see any Uzumaki seal masters anywhere nearby?"

“There were some in the square.” She swallowed hard. “But now most of them are dead. The rest ran when Kushina... when she...”

She stopped, looking shaken.

“When she turned into that.”

He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “She’s still in there. I’m getting her back.”

He made two clones. One took over the healing work. The other one took off running toward the rampaging jinchuriki.

He looked at Konan. "Stay here with her. If Kiri gets close, take her and fly away."

She nodded and grabbed Mrs. Uzumaki's hand with both of hers. "I'll keep her safe, Sensei."

"I know you will."

He headed back toward the Uzushio squad he'd passed on the way over. He remembered the relief on one man's face when he'd seen Shinji coming, and how quickly it had vanished when Shinji ran straight past him. He hoped they were still alive.

He found them in the alley.

Bodies. Blood running between the stones. The guy who'd asked him for help was resting against the wall with his eyes open and his throat cut.

“…..”

If he had stopped… he could've saved them. Maybe one of them would've known the seal he needed, and then this whole mess would already be fixed. But instead, the last thing that guy had seen was Shinji running away from them, leaving them behind.

There were excuses for it. Good ones, even. None of that mattered much right now.

Was this karma?

He rubbed his face. “It’s too early for this.”

He left the alley and stretched his senses across the town, searching for more Uzumaki signatures. Anyone still alive.

The first nin he found was Kiri.

Shinji killed him without even slowing down. The second one was Kiri too, already bleeding from a couple different wounds. Three of his friends were with him. Shinji took them all out the same way.

The third nin wasn't Kiri, and he wasn't Uzumaki either.

He was Uzushio. Just a regular shinobi, bleeding really heavily from a wound in his side, slumped against the wall of a half-destroyed house. When he saw Shinji, he lifted one hand weakly.

"Please," the guy gasped. "Help me."

Shinji stopped. He didn't have time for this. Every second he spent here was another second the Nine-Tails tightened its grip on Kushina. But he also remembered what happened last time he'd just walked past someone who needed him.

He swore quietly and dropped down beside the guy.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, putting his hands over the wound.

"Y-Yeah," the man gasped. Then, desperate. "Can you help me?"

"You're going to be fine. It's not as bad as it looks." Green light started flowing from Shinji's hands as he fixed the damage and got the bleeding under control. "Nothing important got hit. Just keep still and let me work."

The man's breathing got slower and easier. His hand dropped away from the wound, and he just lay there, breathing like he couldn't believe he was still alive.

"Thank you," he wheezed. "Thank you so much, I-I thought I was going to die, I really thought I was going to—"

"Listen to me. I need to find an Uzumaki seal master. Someone who knows how to control a rampaging jinchuriki. Do you know anyone like that?"

The man went quiet. With Kiri hunting anyone they could find, giving up his cousin’s name was a risk. His eyes dropped to Shinji’s hands, still glowing green over his wound. The boy had stopped to save him when he could have kept going.

Maybe he had earned the benefit of the doubt.

"My cousin," he said finally. "He knows seals. So he might be able to help, I mean he's never actually dealt with a jinchuriki before, but maybe? He's always been the smart one in our family."

Shinji actually let out a little laugh. So karma was real after all. Save some random guy, and suddenly the universe throws his seal master cousin at you as a thank you. At least the world had a sense of humor about it.

"Where is he?"

"Hidden in the eastern district. There's a blue house with a broken wall." The man coughed. "But he won't open the door for just anyone."

Shinji helped the guy sit up. "Can you walk?"

"I think so."

"Then you're going to take me to him."

The man wasn't completely healed. Shinji had stopped before he got all the way there, but at least he could move around. He limped along beside Shinji, and they crossed the rooftops together, weaving between burning buildings and stuff that was falling apart until the eastern district opened up ahead of them.

The blue house was exactly where the guy said it would be.

"Rokuro?" the man called out at the broken wall. "It's me."

A door creaked open from inside, and this younger guy appeared. Younger than his cousin, with red hair and eyes that looked careful and smart until he saw Shinji. Then they went sharp and alert real fast.

"Who's this?" the cousin asked, his voice getting tight. "Why'd you bring someone here?"

"A Konoha nin, he saved my life. Rokuro, he needs your help with something."

He was talking so quickly that the words were practically tumbling over each other, like he was scared Rokuro would shut the door if he didn’t get everything out fast enough. The explanation kept spilling out until he finally got to the important part. Shinji needed someone who knew enough about seals to stop a rampaging jinchuriki.

Rokuro's first instinct was to say no. He kept shaking his head, backing away, insisting he wasn't qualified for something this important. But his cousin wouldn't let him refuse. He kept reminding him that he was the smartest one, that everyone else was gone, that there was nobody else left to try. Rokuro took in each argument even though he didn't want to, his eyes jumping back and forth between his cousin and Shinji like he was looking for some kind of escape route.

"You're talking about the jinchuriki seal," Rokuro said. "The containment ritual. I'm not even sure I can..."

It wasn't just hesitation. It was someone who understood exactly how impossible this actually was.

"Can you do it?" Shinji asked.

"I've never actually done it." Rokuro's hands were shaking. "I've only studied it. I don't even know if it would work on someone who's already transformed. I don't know if—"

"Can you try?" Shinji asked.

Rokuro stared at him. There was fear in his eyes. Real fear knowing you were about to be asked to do something you might fail at.

“If you don’t try, the whole town dies,” Shinji said quietly. “All the civilians hiding in buildings. All the shinobi still fighting out there. Your entire clan. They all die. So yes, you can try. You’re going to try.”

Rokuro's cousin put a hand on his shoulder. "You can do this. You're the smartest seal master we have left."

Rokuro hesitated. He looked between his cousin and Shinji, then gave a reluctant nod.

“All right. I need to get my tools.”

"Get them," Shinji said. "We're running out of time."

The streets were a mess when they left the house. Fire climbed the walls, and everything had fallen into chaos. Shinji noticed Rokuro kept looking around with a strained expression, as though he expected to wake up and find that all of this had been a nightmare.

To help ease the tension, Shinji asked him stuff while they ran. How long had he been studying seals. What got him into fuinjutsu in the first place. Was his cousin always this pushy about everything. Rokuro answered kind of hesitantly at first, but something about the way Shinji talked seemed to help. After a few blocks, Rokuro was actually telling him about the early mistakes he'd made learning, the absolute disaster of his first attempt at a binding formula. Shinji laughed at that, and Rokuro's nerves seemed to settle down a little.

Then Shinji stopped talking.

His eyes shifted to the dark alleyways along the street.

Oh, so they finally ran out of patience. He'd been wondering how long the Kiri nin would hang around in the shadows like cowards, working up the nerve. Turns out the answer was not very long at all.

The first kunai came from his left. Shinji caught the blade against the reinforced plate on his glove. He twisted his wrist around the guy's grip, spun the kunai back, and drove it straight into his throat using the man's own hand.

The second Kiri came out of the alley with a two-handed slash. Shinji ducked under the blade and drove his elbow into the guy's jaw. His head snapped back hard enough to lift his feet off the ground.

A third Kiri was hiding on the roof behind him, waiting for an opening.

Shinji's dagger left his hand.

Lightning flickered along the blade as it crossed the street and buried itself in the Kiri's throat. The man dropped without making a sound.

The swordsman in front of Shinji was already swinging.

Shinji spun and caught the blade against his shin, kicked off it, twisted over the guy, and came down on his sword arm.

Bone cracked under his heel.

The Kiri screamed and dropped his sword, but his other hand was already reaching for a kunai. He ripped it free and slashed up at Shinji..

Shinji jerked two fingers back.

The wire went taut.

His dagger ripped free from the dead man's throat and whipped back across the street. The guy heard it coming and started to turn.

Too slow.

The dagger punched into the side of his neck.

Shinji landed as the man collapsed beside him, then turned to check on Rokuro.

What he saw took a second to process. The image was clear enough that his eyes got it right away, but his brain kept trying to look away from it, kept rejecting what had actually happened.

Rokuro was cut in half at the waist. The massive sword had gone straight through his stomach and come out the other side. His top half started sliding off his bottom half in this slow motion that felt like it lasted forever. For just one moment, just one single moment, his eyes found Shinji's.

There was confusion in them. Not pain or fear. Just simple confusion like he still hadn't understood that he was already dead.

Then gravity did what the blade had started. Rokuro hit the ground in two pieces.

The Seven Swordsman landed next to the body without making a sound, his giant blade hanging loose at his shoulder. He looked down at Rokuro and started laughing.

“Man, look at his stupid face. He still doesn’t know what happened to him.”

He gave the body another look, clearly enjoying it.

“That’s what Silent Killing looks like. Weaklings don’t dodge it. They just die.”

Then he looked at Shinji.

“So do yourself a favor, kid. Stand still. I’ll make it quick, same as him.”

His laugh stopped real quick. He'd been moving forward, already sure he'd won, when Shinji's eyes flashed purple.

Bansho Tenin.

The pulling force hit Ozashiki like a hook through the chest. His whole body lurched toward Shinji with violent, jerking momentum that he couldn't control at all.

"W-What-"

Ozashiki's feet dug into the rubble, trying to hold himself in place. Cracks spiderwebbed out from where his boots scraped against stone and broken concrete. The force kept pulling, relentless, and his feet started sliding anyway.

He swung his greatsword down, trying to use the blade like a brake, to plant it deep enough that the pull couldn't move him. The sword bit into the ground with this thunder-like sound.

It didn't help.

The pulling force got even stronger. Ozashiki's whole body was shaking now, his hair whipping backward like he was caught in a hurricane, his cheeks wobbling from how much force was dragging him forward. He was moving fast, faster than fast, getting pulled across the rubble like he weighed nothing.

His greatsword came with him, ripping free from the ground in a spray of broken stone.

For a second, panic shot through Ozashiki's chest. What kind of jutsu was this? He couldn't do anything but get dragged like a caught fish. The thought of death flashed through his head, and that made rage burn hotter than the fear. He was Ozashiki. He was going to become one of the greatest swordsmen alive. He didn't panic! He didn't get played with like this by some Leaf kid!

The anger crystallized into killing intent.

He stopped fighting the pull and started using it instead. He bent his whole body into the momentum, let it fuel his swing, and came at Shinji with everything he had. The pull, his strength, and decades of perfected technique all flowing into a single slash that was faster and more violent than anything he could've pulled off on his own.

The greatsword screamed through the air toward Shinji's chest.

Shinji didn't dodge.

He activated Triple Accel instead.

The world went slow as lightning erupted around his body, and he blurred. One second he was on the ground. The next second he was standing on the flat of Ozashiki's greatsword, his feet planted against the metal like it was solid ground instead of a weapon moving at high speed.

Ozashiki's eyes went wide.

Shinji was already moving. He twisted on the blade, built momentum from the swordsman's own forward motion, and launched a heel strike at his head with chakra flaring along his shin like fire.

Ozashiki got his free arm up in a hurry.

The block worked. For about half a second.

Then Shinji's heel connected with his elbow and drove straight through it. Bone shattered out through the skin, and the force ripped his arm off his body, sending it spinning away. Ozashiki screamed.

But momentum doesn't just stop because you're missing an arm.

Ozashiki was still moving forward, still following through, still holding the greatsword with his one remaining hand. Shinji rode the blade like a platform and came around for the second kick.

THUD.

His heel connected with the side of Ozashiki's head.

The swordsman's skull caved in. The impact went through his whole body and sent him spinning off the blade he'd been holding. He fell hard, hit the street with a thick crunch, and left half his skull scattered in the rubble.

Shinji landed on the greatsword's handle as it dropped, rode it down like an elevator sinking into the ground. The massive blade plunged deep into the cracked asphalt, burying itself halfway in the road.

He stood there on the hilt, lightning still crawling along his arms.

And he stared at Rokuro's corpse.

The guy was still in two pieces on the ground, his eyes still open, still holding that same confused look. Shinji had gone through all that trouble convincing him to help, only to get him killed minutes later.

Shinji’s face twisted. He felt sorry for the guy. Guilty too. Rokuro’s cousin was still back there, waiting for him to come back. Shinji had no idea what he was supposed to tell him now.

Damn it.

He put his hands together for a second and gave Rokuro the quickest prayer he could manage.

Sorry, man.

Then his eyes went back to the street.

Ozashiki had been right there in the middle of it, and Shinji’s senses had passed right over him like he didn’t exist. That could only mean one thing. Anti-sensor tags. Uzumaki fūinjutsu. Which meant Kiri had gotten their hands on Uzumaki tech.

Rokuro had been his best chance. His safest option. The only person who’d actually said yes to helping.

And now he was dead.

Shinji rubbed his face, like he could scrub away the frustration along with the blood. He’d never thought Kiri would get their hands on Uzumaki anti-sensor tags. This was a disaster.

His hands came together, and storage seals unwound across his palms. The Kubikiribōchō got pulled into the seal.

Then he headed back toward the square, toward where Kushina’s chakra was blazing like a dying star.

Except it wasn’t dying anymore.

It was getting brighter.

Stronger.

He landed on the last roof and stopped.

Four tails.

She had four tails now, and there wasn't even a hint of lucidity left in her. No awareness. No piece of Kushina buried somewhere in that red haze. Just rage. Pure, burning rage that made the air shimmer like heat waves. Her form had changed too. Less human, more beast. Claws that could tear through stone. Teeth that looked like they came out of a nightmare. The chakra coating her skin was boiling and churning like it was something alive.

And she wasn't alone.

The Mizukage was there, flowing around her smoothly with decades of experience behind every move. Three other swordsmen were flanking him. Their blades were distinctive enough that Shinji recognized them right away as members of the Seven. The first one had the Kiba, the Twin Lightning Swords, their blades crackling with electricity even between strikes. The second one carried the Hiramekarei, that massive flat-faced weapon with dual handles connected by cord.

The third fighter was different. Older maybe, or just faster. He carried nothing special, just an ordinary tanto, but something about the way he used it reminded Shinji of the White Fang. No wasted steps. No openings he didn’t mean to leave. Someone who had spent his whole life figuring out how not to die.

Together, the four Kiri moved in perfect synchronization. The Mizukage was like an invisible conductor, keeping the other three moving around Kushina without getting in each other’s way.

The Kiba wielder was slicing with lightning-enhanced cuts that left trails of crackling electricity, his agile spins letting him weave between Kushina's lashing tails as chakra arced off his blades in strikes meant to bother her more than hurt her.

Not that Shinji thought anyone could actually hurt her at this point anyway. Her chakra was already thick enough to turn swords into toothpicks.

Then he saw the Hiramekarei user release the chakra stored in his blade, reshaping the flat weapon into a massive hammer one second and a long sword the next. Every strike left behind branching trails of pale blue chakra, almost like fish bones, wrapping around Kushina’s limbs and slowing her down.

That was all the third swordsman needed. He slipped in whenever the chakra snagged her, tanto flashing against the red chakra around her. And whenever Kushina ripped herself loose and came at them harder, the Mizukage was there. His blade kept finding openings Kushina couldn’t keep up with, turning aside attacks that should have crushed straight through him and using her own momentum to open her up for the next strike.

The four of them moved like a single organism made of steel. Each one knew exactly where the others would be. They held her in place through this dance of violence, except it only made her rage climb higher and her fourth tail lash wilder with each second that passed.

Buildings fell around them. Entire structures just collapsed under the force of her rampage, buried under her tails as she thrashed and screamed. The street cracked beneath her feet. Stone turned into powder.

But they didn't back down.

Shinji watched them work, and part of him understood what was happening. These guys were doing what had to be done. They were containing her. Keeping her from spreading the destruction back through their own lines. Which worked out conveniently. The Kiri got to keep breathing, and the civilians hiding in the upper floors of the remaining buildings got to keep living a little longer.

But that same part of him hated it.

Every second they kept her busy, every time they hit her and it just made her madder, she got stronger. Another tail was coming. That fourth one showed up because they were pushing her, making her anger climb higher and higher. It was like feeding fuel to a fire.

Shinji hand moved toward his tanto. Then he stopped.

He had this ugly feeling that jumping in right now would just give the Mizukage another option. Kushina was barely aware of who she was attacking as it was. If the old man figured out a way to put Shinji between them, redirect her attention, or just make himself the less convenient target, then Shinji could end up with four tails coming at his face while Kiri stepped neatly out of the way.

And with his luck, that was exactly what would happen.

He dropped his hand.

He felt stuck. Frozen by the choice in front of him.

Rokuro had died helping him. And now he was gone, which meant the only way left to save Kushina was brute force and violence.

And there was no way Shinji could do that by himself.

He'd never felt this stuck before. Not even against crazy odds. Because in a real fight, he could do something. He could move, could strike, could react to what was actually happening right in front of him.

But this? This needed specialized fuinjutsu that took months or years to master. It couldn't be done on the fly. It couldn't be improvised by raw power and desperation.

Shinji watched Kushina's fourth tail lash out and destroy another building. Watched the Mizukage and his swordsmen dance around her, barely staying ahead of her rage.

Then something caught him off guard. The old man opened his mouth and said something.

Shinji couldn’t hear what he was saying from where he was, but whatever came out of the Mizukage’s mouth made all three swordsmen stop darting around Kushina. One second they were dodging for their lives, and the next they were running, taking off in different directions while the Mizukage threw a thick wall of mist across the whole street.

What the...?

What he'd been afraid of had finally happened.

His heart sank.

He didn't waste a second. He launched himself off the roof and bolted after them. But Kushina was already tearing through the fog, whipping her head from side to side.

She'd lost them.

None of the Kiri were there anymore, and every second she couldn't find them only seemed to make her angrier.

She kept searching like she needed something, anything, to make the rage inside her stop hurting. And since she couldn't find what she wanted, she'd just destroy whatever got in her way.

The buildings started coming down.

The first one collapsed when her tail swept through it. It had already been half-destroyed anyway, so Shinji didn't stop. He kept running.

Another building went.

Concrete and glass blew out across the road, debris flying everywhere. Empty storefront. Good. No one inside.

Then came the third one.

Shinji's instincts screamed at him. He could feel them immediately—three people, their signatures faint and scared, crammed into the upper floors. A family. They were hiding there, probably too terrified or hurt to get out.

His body moved before his brain could catch up with the decision.

He threw everything he had into his legs and appeared right in front of that descending tail. Chakra surged through his right leg, and he kicked.

His heel slammed into it.

Pain shot all the way up his leg. It felt like he'd just kicked a truck coming at full speed. The impact cracked through the street, pavement breaking beneath him as nearby windows blew out and a shockwave kicked dust and glass across the road.

The tail jerked sideways. The thing carved through the air and crashed into the already-ruined house next to the one with the family.

KRA-KOOM

Stone and wood flew everywhere, disappearing into a thick cloud of dust.

“Kushina!” Shinji yelled as loud as he could. “Your mom is fine! I got her out! She’s okay!”

For maybe like half a second, Kushina's eyes actually looked at him. He was waiting for that moment where she'd recognize him, where it might click that he wasn't the enemy. But there was nothing there. Just this blazing, furious rage that somehow got even worse when she heard his voice, like her brain had decided right then that he was the problem that needed to be eliminated.

Crimson tails came at him, and they were moving fast!

Shinji jumped over the first one, and lightning crackled across the rooftop as he moved. The second one whipped in from the side, and Shinji skipped off it as it passed, letting the tail’s momentum throw him higher into the air.

The third tail was already waiting for him up there.

He couldn't dodge this one!

He crossed his arms and activated Shinra Tensei at point-blank range. The repulsive force erupted between them, and he made sure it wasn't strong enough to hurt Kushina, only enough to take the worst out of the tail strike. The hit still landed. The repulsion cushioned it just enough that, instead of obliterating him, it blasted him backward through the air like a ragdoll.

He crashed straight through the first building.

Then the second.

Wood and stone came down around him, and before he could even figure out which way was up, another tail punched through the wreckage after him.

Shit.

He kicked off a falling beam and twisted past the tail just before it smashed through the house.

KRA-KOOM

The whole thing came down.

He shot out through the dust and landed on the broken edge of the next roof. Tiles slid out from under his feet. He caught himself, scrambled higher, and finally got half a second to breathe.

His ribs hurt. Everything hurt.

Thank God for these eyes.

Without Shinra Tensei, he would have been a stain on the street by now.

He looked down at Kushina.

She was watching him with eyes full of nothing but anger, her four tails swishing back and forth like some kind of predator that had locked onto its target and was already thinking about how to rip it apart.

He breathed out slowly. This was getting worse every single second. The Mizukage was gone now. Kushina kept getting stronger. And now she'd decided that he was the thing she wanted to destroy more than anything else. He couldn’t seal her away. He wasn’t strong enough to overpower her. And sure, he could keep fighting her for a while, but how long? Ten minutes? Twenty? Eventually his chakra was going to run out, and Kushina sure as hell wasn’t going to run out with him.

This was bad. Really really bad.