282-The hawk flies at dawn
Of all the great shinobi villages, Kumo, hidden in the Land of Lightning, was the most distant, not simply in geography but in its remote, well-guarded position, surrounded by rugged, hostile terrain.
While Kirigakure lay far across the sea, Konoha's shoreline at least provided a direct coastal route for access. But Kumo was buried deep inland, separated from Konoha by endless stretches of foreign territory.
For an ANBU mission, Yano, Renjiro, and Kakashi could take no risks. Instead of moving openly, they had to employ circuitous paths, slipping through border checkpoints, avoiding major routes, and crossing through dense forests and isolated valleys.
By the second day, they had all but disappeared into the shadows, wearing fatigue and caution like second skins as they crept ever closer to the Land of Lightning.
As night finally settled over the jagged peaks of Kumo, the trio reached the border of the Land of Lightning. They paused at the edge of a thick forest that opened out into rocky terrain, beyond which the mountains of Kumogakure loomed like dark sentinels under a starless sky.
The silence was absolute, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind through the trees, but the group knew better than to trust the stillness. Night was a dangerous time to enter Kumo's territory.
With defences heightened and shinobi patrols often doubled under cover of darkness, the risks of discovery multiplied, especially in this treacherous border zone where Kumo guards and ANBU squads were known to operate.
Yano was well aware of this, having led countless missions into enemy territory before. He signalled the others with a swift hand gesture, directing them to spread out into a staggered formation.
Silently, they advanced, each step calculated to avoid detection. Renjiro tightened his grip on his kunai, his senses sharpened and his Sharingan activated beneath his mask, scanning for the faintest glimmer of chakra signatures in the dark. Kakashi mirrored his movements, his own focus unwavering as they manoeuvred through the shadowed, rocky terrain.
They knew that the smallest misstep would give them away, and so they moved with practiced silence, skirting the areas where patrols might pass and following natural cover whenever possible.
"What's next?" Renjiro's voice was a low murmur, barely audible, his black tranformed hair visible behind his mask as he glanced at Yano. They had paused momentarily in the shelter of a rocky outcrop, hidden from view.
Yano's gaze remained fixed ahead, his tone calm and steady. "We locate the spies' last known position. They should be somewhere in this area, hiding near the mountain caves. Stay alert."
With silent nods, the trio set off again, maintaining their careful pace. Two more hours passed in tense silence as they made their way deeper into Kumo territory, avoiding detection at every turn.
At last, they reached the spies' supposed last location, a secluded area near the base of a rocky slope. Yano signalled for them to fan out, each of them activating various techniques to search for any sign of the missing operatives.
Renjiro's Sharingan glowed faintly in the dark, giving him a heightened sense of perception as he scanned the surroundings. His gaze traced over every pebble, each broken twig, and even the faintest footprints embedded in the dirt.
After an hour of silent searching, Yano regrouped them, his expression unreadable behind his mask. "Nothing," he muttered, his voice edged with frustration.
"They must have moved. We'll have to find another trail."
Renjiro's Sharingan shone brighter as he swept the area, focusing on even the smallest disturbances. His keen eyes picked up subtle details—a faint scuff mark on a rock, the barely visible indentation of a footprint in the dirt, and even a few stray hairs caught on a low-hanging branch. He crouched down, examining the area closely.
'The Sharingan sure is useful,' Kakashi thought, watching Renjiro work with a mix of admiration and quiet frustration.
Among the scattered clues Renjiro found, one detail nagged at him, something he couldn't quite reconcile. The faint traces suggested the presence of at least five individuals rather than the expected three. He frowned, considering the possibility.
'Could there be others with or after them? Or am I just misreading?' It was a small detail, but something about it felt off. Deciding it might simply be within the margin of error, he chose not to mention it, resolving to focus on the task at hand instead of letting his thoughts wander.
Thanks to Renjiro's meticulous analysis, they managed to determine the general direction in which the spies had likely moved. They continued onward, following the faint trail with calculated precision, careful to erase any signs of their passage while also covering any evidence the spies might have left behind.
Every mark they encountered, they masked with skilful brushstrokes of dirt or leaves, creating an unbroken canvas of untouched earth in their wake.
The trail led them to a series of rugged mountain caves tucked into the cliffs, their darkened mouths gaping like silent watchers against the night. Yano motioned for the others to halt, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the entrance to one particular cave, where the ground showed faint signs of recent movement. Slowly, they approached the cave, their movements cautious, prepared for any ambush.
Inside, they found three figures huddled together, each cloaked in dark, nondescript garments. At the sight of the ANBU team, the spies tensed, their postures rigid as they glanced warily at one another.
The air grew thick with apprehension as the three spies eyed their would-be rescuers with suspicion. In this foreign land, trust was a luxury they couldn't afford.
"You'll have to prove you're not from Kumo," one of the spies, a stocky, rough-faced man with a scar running down his cheek, spoke in a low, wary voice.
Yano stepped forward, his stance calm and authoritative as he responded. "The hawk flies at dawn…"
The scarred man nodded, his posture relaxing slightly as he completed the phrase. "…and returns to its nest with the sun."
At last, the tension in the air eased, and the three spies visibly relaxed. They lowered their guards, their shoulders slumping as they let out weary breaths.
The scarred man was introduced as Oka, a tall, wiry spy with a grizzled beard named Kenji, and a third, younger boy from the Yamanaka clan, introduced himself as Takata.
Yano wasted no time. "What exactly were you investigating here? We need to know what we're dealing with."
Takata, the apparent leader of the group, crossed his arms, his posture defensive. "I'm afraid that information is classified, even for the ANBU," he replied tersely.
Yano's expression hardened. "We're risking our lives to pull you out of this mess. You owe us more than silence, Takata. If there's a risk of encountering enemy forces, we need to be prepared."
Takata met Yano's gaze without flinching. "I understand, but this is above your clearance. We were instructed not to reveal our mission details to anyone outside our unit."
The air between them grew thick with unspoken tension as they locked eyes, neither willing to back down. Renjiro could feel the tension radiating through the cave like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment.
He shifted uneasily, his senses on high alert as he glanced around, his instincts warning him of danger.
And then he felt it—a faint, almost imperceptible ripple in the chakra field surrounding them. Renjiro's eyes widened in realization, his chakra senses flaring as he detected the subtle shift. He barely had time to react.
"Get down!" he shouted, throwing himself to the ground as an explosion ripped through the cave.
BOOM!
The blast filled the cave with a deafening roar, rocks and debris scattering in all directions as the shockwave tore through the narrow space. Renjiro's quick reflexes saved him from the worst of the blast, allowing him to shield himself with a quick chakra barrier.
But the others weren't as fortunate. As the dust began to settle, he could make out their forms, coughing and struggling to stand amidst the debris.
As the smoke cleared, five shadowed figures emerged from the mouth of the cave, silhouetted against the night. Four of them wore the unmistakable masks and uniforms of Kumo's ANBU, their expressions hidden but their intent clear in the rigid way they held their weapons.
But it was the fifth figure that caught Renjiro's attention—a tall, powerfully built man with tanned skin spiked blonde hair and an intense, unmasked gaze.
"Well," a deep voice rumbled, his eyes narrowing with barely contained fury as he looked upon the intruding Konoha shinobi. "Seems we've caught ourselves some uninvited guests."
Renjiro's heart clenched as he recognized who the speaker was. It was A, the son of the Third Raikage and future Fourth Raikage.
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