238-It Was Obvious, Wasn't It?

The early morning sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains in Renjiro's small apartment, casting faint patterns of light across the wooden floor. He exhaled slowly, his breath still steady from his morning workout. Beads of sweat clung to his brow as he finished the final set of push-ups, his muscles tensing and relaxing with precision.

The room smelled faintly of salt and the lingering heat from his exertion, a comforting scent that grounded him in the familiar routine. Just as he stood up and stretched, a sharp knock echoed through the silence.

"Knock! Knock! Knock!'

Renjiro paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was rare for anyone to visit this early, especially without notice. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face before moving to the door, his senses heightened, just in case.

When he opened it, he was greeted by the imposing figure of an ANBU shinobi. The masked figure stood silent and motionless, a grey-white cloak draped over his shoulders and the porcelain mask that concealed his identity.

The mask itself was white, with red streaks accentuating the sharp, angular design of an animal's face—perhaps a bird, Renjiro mused. The shinobi's presence exuded an air of secrecy and authority that made Renjiro immediately stand a little straighter.

"Uzumaki Renjiro," the masked shinobi said in a low, clipped tone, holding out a small envelope.

"This is where you are to go for the meeting."

Renjiro took the envelope, his fingers brushing against the rough parchment as he eyed the ANBU member. Before Renjiro could ask any questions, the shinobi nodded once, then with a flicker—a blur of movement—he vanished, leaving only a gust of wind that stirred the dust at Renjiro's feet.

Renjiro blinked. "Why do they always keep doing this? Don't they know it is rude?" he muttered to himself, turning the envelope over in his hands.

He had expected a normal meeting with Nara Shiba, the Jounin Commander. But now, an ANBU shinobi had shown up at his door. Something definitely wasn't right.

'Why all the secrecy?' he wondered.

He closed the door behind him, his mind racing. The appearance of an ANBU in the Uchiha compound would undoubtedly raise a few eyebrows.

The relationship between the Uchiha clan and the village had been deteriorating for some time, and a visit like this would only fuel the rumours of growing distrust between the village leadership and the Uchiha.

"Especially after what they just did…" Renjiro muttered under his breath as he unfolded the letter inside. His eyes scanned the neatly written directions, his brows furrowing slightly as he read them.

The location was on the outskirts of the village, near a secluded area known to very few. It was also close to Kushina's residence, a place known to be heavily guarded due to it housing the jinchuriki of the Nine-Tails.

It struck Renjiro as strange. Not many people were even allowed near that area, and now he was being summoned there?

"Why would they want to meet me there?" Renjiro mused quietly.

It didn't make sense. Nara Shiba was a man of straightforward approaches—formal meetings at the Hokage building or the Training Grounds, at least that was what Renjiro was told since he only interacted with the man at the Hokage's office. Still, this was too secretive, too hidden.

'Maybe he decided to change things up.'

With a sigh, Renjiro tossed the letter onto the table, deciding to wash up before heading out. He moved through the motions of cleaning himself off with practised efficiency, his mind still chewing on the strange situation as he splashed cold water over his face.

The coolness helped clear his thoughts, but the unease lingered. He could feel something stirring beneath the surface, a subtle shift in his gut that told him things were about to change.

After drying off, Renjiro dressed quickly in his usual shinobi attire. He tightened his headband around his forehead, its fabric a comforting weight. With a final glance at the directions, he set off toward the outskirts of the village, his pace brisk but steady.

The journey didn't take long. The village streets were quiet, only a few early risers moving about their daily routines. As Renjiro neared the meeting point, the dense trees provided cover from prying eyes, and the sound of birds chirping overhead filled the air. It was peaceful—too peaceful, given the circumstances.

At the appointed location, Renjiro's keen eyes caught sight of another figure standing in the shade of a large oak tree. The shinobi wore the unmistakable cloak of the ANBU, and though the mask was different, Renjiro immediately knew this was not the same one who had delivered the letter.

This one had a longer, thinner mask—painted in soft shades of blue, resembling a weasel's face. His build was leaner, and his hair, though mostly hidden under the cloak, was a light brown that poked out from the edges of his mask. His posture was slightly more relaxed, though the deep tone of his voice when he spoke conveyed authority.

"You're late," the ANBU said, his voice like gravel scraping against stone.

Renjiro's eyes narrowed slightly. "The time was specified," he retorted, not appreciating the accusation.

His Sharingan didn't flare up, but he felt a twinge of annoyance prick at the back of his mind. He studied the shinobi in front of him, noting the differences. It wasn't just the mask—the tone of his voice was deeper, his stance slightly off-balance compared to the last ANBU member. Even his breathing was different, slower, more methodical.

The ANBU didn't respond to Renjiro's remark. Instead, he turned and gestured for Renjiro to follow him without another word, walking toward a small, nondescript building hidden among the trees.

As they reached the entrance, the ANBU led Renjiro down a narrow corridor. The dim lighting cast long shadows on the walls, and the wooden floors creaked beneath their feet. At the end of the hallway was a simple door, unadorned and quiet. The ANBU stopped in front of it and turned to Renjiro, speaking in the same gruff tone.

"In here."

Renjiro's eyes flickered with curiosity, but he kept his face neutral as he opened the door. His first instinct was to assume he'd be meeting Nara Shiba here, but what he found inside was far from what he expected.

The room was small and bare, save for a row of shelves along one wall. Grey-white cloaks hung neatly from the shelves, and various porcelain masks were arranged in an orderly fashion. Renjiro's eyes widened for a moment as realization washed over him.

But as quickly as it came, he masked his surprise, allowing only a flicker of emotion to cross his face. He wasn't ready to assume anything just yet.

The ANBU shinobi moved to one of the shelves and pulled down a small box, placing it in front of Renjiro with a deliberate motion. "Choose a mask and cloak," he said simply, his voice betraying no emotion.

Renjiro felt his mind race, but outwardly, he remained calm. He reached for one of the cloaks—a grey-white garment that seemed almost too large for him. It hung loose around his frame, the material light but sturdy. As he fastened the clasps, he glanced down at the oversized fit and smirked to himself.

'I guess I need to bulk up,' he thought with a touch of amusement.

When it came to choosing a mask, Renjiro found himself momentarily hesitant. The options were varied, each mask more intricate than the last. There were masks designed to resemble fierce animals—a tiger, a hawk, a wolf and many others.

Others were more abstract, with swirling patterns and geometric shapes. But one mask caught his attention: a sleek, white fox mask. The smooth, angular lines of the fox's face exuded an air of cunning and mystery, something Renjiro felt drawn to.

"This one," he said quietly, lifting the fox mask from its place and holding it up to the light.

The ANBU shinobi observed him for a moment before nodding. "Follow me."

Renjiro slipped the mask over his face, the cool porcelain resting comfortably against his skin. The sensation was strange, but not unwelcome. As he followed the ANBU shinobi down another corridor, the reality of the situation began to sink in.

The corridor seemed to stretch on for longer than it should, the air growing colder as they approached the end. A single door awaited them, and when the ANBU opened it, Renjiro was met with a sight that confirmed what he had suspected.

Before him stood close to a hundred figures, all donned the same grey-white cloaks and masks. Their eyes turned toward him as one, though their faces were concealed, giving them an eerie, uniform appearance.

'It was obvious, wasn't it?'

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