Chapter 18: A Shadow's Retreat

Chapter 18: A Shadow's Retreat

The dense forests of the Land of Tea were quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves under Shinji's boots. His movements were swift but deliberate, each step carrying him farther away from the group that had entered the region. He had sensed their chakra the moment they stepped into the Land of Tea—powerful, disciplined, and unmistakably Konoha.

Shinji's face was hidden beneath the black hood of his ninja gear. His attire, practical and sleek, bore no symbol of allegiance: a dark ninja vest over a fitted long-sleeved shirt, sturdy black gloves, and boots that left little trace behind. His sword, Yamato, rested securely on his back, a constant companion and reminder of his resolve. The mask covering the lower half of his face was a precaution—his identity and survival depended on anonymity.

He moved with practiced ease, his heightened senses keeping him aware of every shift in the wind and sound of the forest. Among the presences he felt pursuing him, one stood out—a chakra that was vibrant and strong, yet eerily familiar.

But there was no time to dwell on such things. He had a plan.

---

Shinji's mind raced as he weaved through the trees, his steps as silent as the shadows he left behind.

"The Hidden Rain... It's my best option."

The Land of Rain, known for its relentless storms and isolation, had a strained history with Konoha due to the Second Great Ninja War. Its hostility toward outsiders made it an ideal refuge, a place even Konoha would hesitate to tread. But even as he thought about his destination, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

The group chasing him wasn't ordinary. He recognized one chakra in particular—Minato Namikaze. The idea of facing the yellow flash again made his blood stir, but Shinji dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.

"No... not yet. I haven't mastered Shunpo. Fighting him now would be reckless."

He pressed on, leaping from branch to branch, his form blending seamlessly with the darkening forest. Then, without warning, a sharp whistling sound broke the quiet—a kunai spinning through the air.

---

The three-pronged kunai struck the ground ahead of Shinji with a soft thud, its distinct design instantly recognizable. Shinji's eyes narrowed behind his mask.

"Flying Raijin."

In an instant, Minato appeared, materializing in a flicker of light, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp. He wasn't alone. Beside him stood a red-haired woman whose chakra felt familiar, though Shinji couldn't immediately place her.

Shinji's feet skidded to a halt, and he instinctively drew Yamato, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. His stance was firm, his muscles coiled like a spring, ready to strike.

"How?" Shinji muttered, his voice low but steady. "How did you catch up so quickly?"

Minato didn't respond immediately. His gaze was calm, but there was a sharpness to his presence that spoke of readiness.

Before Shinji could make his move, a new voice came from behind him.

"Step down, boy. We didn't come here to harm you. We just want to talk."

Shinji turned his head slightly to see the speaker. A silver-haired man with a small blade strapped to his back stepped forward, his expression unreadable but his reputation preceding him. The White Fang of Konoha.

---

Shinji's grip on Yamato tightened. He kept his stance firm, his eyes darting between Minato and Sakumo. The situation was precarious. They had him cornered, but he wasn't about to surrender.

"Who are you?" Shinji's voice was steel, each word deliberate. "And what do you want with me?"

Sakumo's tone was calm but firm. "We were sent by Konoha to bring you to the village. That's all."

Shinji's eyes narrowed. His grip on his sword tightened as his chakra flared slightly, the air around him growing heavier.

"I have no relation to Konoha," Shinji said, his voice low but edged with venom. "Why would I go with you? And what makes you think I would?"

Before Sakumo could respond, the red-haired woman beside Minato stepped forward. Her sudden movement startled Shinji, and he shifted his stance, ready to strike. His blade angled toward her, but she didn't stop.

"Shinji… don't you remember me?" Her voice was soft, filled with emotion. "I'm Kushina. You used to call me Big Sis. Can't you remember?"

---

Shinji froze. The familiarity in her voice triggered something deep within him, a fragment of a memory he thought long buried.

He saw her in his mind—a younger version of the red-haired woman standing before him. She was smiling, her hands on her hips, insisting that he call her "Big Sis" or face the consequences. He remembered his younger self, nervous and stammering, agreeing to her demand just to avoid her mock wrath.

The memory faded, and Shinji's grip on Yamato faltered. His sharp gaze softened, confusion and disbelief flickering across his face.

"Kushina…" he whispered, the name barely audible. "But… I thought you were dead. How are yo—"

Before he could finish, Kushina closed the distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug.

---

Kushina clung to him, her tears soaking into his cloak. "You're alive… Shinji, you're alive…"

For a moment, Shinji didn't move, his body stiff with shock. Slowly, he raised a hand and awkwardly patted her back, unsure of what to do. The others watched the scene in silence, their expressions a mix of relief and sympathy.

Minato, standing nearby, allowed a small smile to break through his otherwise serious demeanor. Sakumo and Inoichi, observing from a distance, shared a knowing glance.

But the moment didn't last.

---

Kushina's voice was soft, almost pleading. "We've come to bring you home."

The words shattered the fragile calm. Shinji stiffened, his hand dropping from her back. His expression darkened as he gently but firmly pushed her away.

"No," he said, his voice colder now. "I have no home."

The group tensed, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

---

To Be Continued...