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Chapter 488 - 487-Trust the Plan

"Execute the next part of the plan," Shiba commanded, his voice low but carrying absolute authority. He tapped two specific points on the map – one representing the main retreat corridor towards No Man's Land, the other a secondary, less obvious path veering slightly north. "Yoshino, ensure the retreat down the primary corridor looks panicked. Drop supplies, leave visible blood trails – make it convincing they're fleeing for their lives towards the No Man's Land. Hikaru, your Yamanaka teams should use subtle genjutsu on the secondary path. Just faint enough to sow doubt in any pursuers about our true numbers splitting off. Priority: Sell the illusion of total collapse in Rice Fields."

Yoshino, her Nara intellect already calculating the logistics, gave a sharp nod. "Understood, Lord Shiba." Hikaru, his expression focused, echoed the sentiment. "The whispers will begin immediately."

Without another word, the two aides vanished, leaving Shiba alone for a moment. Below, the chaotic symphony of retreat played out: Konoha shinobi melting back through the intricate network of irrigation channels and camouflaged tunnels, the distant explosions of pre-set explosive traps detonating to cover their withdrawal, the panicked shouts echoing across the paddies.

Shiba let out a slow breath.

"Now… let's see what you do next," he murmured under his breath, watching the enemy formations swell with renewed confidence.

He closed his eyes once, and allowed himself a moment to catalog the enemy ranks, the terrain ahead, the subtle movements that indicated overconfidence.

Then with the low rustle of a cloak, he flickered away.

=====

On the muddy banks of a rice paddy channel turned into a defensive trench, Kumo Commander Arakaki Akiko wiped sweat and grime from his brow. His lightning-infused katana, Raijinmaru, hummed faintly in his grip, its blade stained with mud and something darker.

The Konoha resistance had been fierce, cunning, and deeply entrenched. He'd expected weeks of grinding attrition. So, when a young Kumo scout, her breath ragged and uniform torn, skidded to a halt before him, saluting sharply, her report was met with profound scepticism.

"Commander Arakaki! Konoha forces – they're breaking! They're abandoning positions, falling back in disarray towards the western flats!"

Arakaki's sharp features, weathered by decades of warfare, hardened. His dark eyes narrowed, scanning the mist-shrouded paddies where moments ago Konoha ninja had been fighting with disciplined ferocity. "Retreat? Now?" His voice was a low growl, like distant thunder.

'This reeks of a Nara trap.'

The image of Nara Shiba, Konoha's infamous Shadow Strategist, coolly directing the defence from his watchtower, flashed in his mind. Shiba didn't retreat; he lured.

He recalled the intelligence briefings: Shiba's reputation for feigned withdrawals and devastating counter-ambushes. The ease with which they were suddenly gaining ground felt... wrong. Suspiciously convenient. 'They were dug in like ticks. Why abandon strong defensive terrain for open ground? Unless...' He clenched his fist.

'Unless that open ground is where they want us.'

He wrestled with his instincts. Caution screamed trap! But ambition, and the explicit orders from the Raikage himself – "Break Konoha's eastern flank swiftly!" – warred against it.

Pushing Konoha back was his primary objective. Seeing the enemy flee, regardless of the reason, was a tactical victory he couldn't ignore.

'Shiba is cunning,' he conceded inwardly, 'but even he cannot conjure reinforcements from thin air. The reports confirm Konoha is stretched thin everywhere. Perhaps their line here truly did snap under our combined pressure with Suna. Perhaps Shiba has no choice but to fall back and consolidate in the neutral zone.'

A grim resolve settled over him. 'Overthinking leads to paralysis. We push the advantage.' He turned to the scout and his gathered lieutenants. "Disarray or deception, we push them! Their rout is our opportunity!" He pointed towards the retreating Konoha shadows disappearing. "Unit 13, Pursue the main retreat force into No Man's Land! We harry them, break their cohesion, and rendezvous with Commander Ayy's main assault group! Crush them between our hammer and his anvil!" He then gestured towards a burly Jonin with a scar across his jaw. "Unit 5 with me! We secure these positions we've taken. Fortify the watchtowers, establish our own stronghold here. This ground is ours now. Let Shiba try to take it back if he dares!"

The Kumo forces surged forward with renewed vigour, a roar rising from their throats "FOR KUMO!" Unit 13 became a blur of blue and crackling energy, leaping over flooded channels and shattered earth traps, chasing the seemingly fleeing Konoha shinobi. Behind them, Unit 5 began the grim work of turning captured Konoha outposts into Kumo fortifications.

=====

The transition from the soggy, mist-cloaked nightmare of the Rice Paddy withdrawal to the sun-blasted, wind-scoured hellscape of No Man's Land offered no respite. For two days and two brutally short nights, Team Minato had been the rearguard, the flickering yellow beacon drawing the most aggressive elements of Arakaki's pursuing Unit 13.

Kakashi Hatake moved with the lethal precision of a scalpel, constantly scanning the dusty rocks and skeletal trees for ambush points, his chakra blade White Light a silver flicker deflecting the occasional lightning-fast projectiles.

"Shink-spark!"

But even his famed endurance was fraying. Fine tremors ran through his arms, and the dark circles under his visible eye were pronounced. He conserved words, focusing entirely on the path and the threat behind.

Rin Nohara panted heavily, her clothes stained with dust and sweat. Her chakra reserves constantly tapped to heal minor scrapes from near-misses and soothe muscle fatigue, were dangerously low. She stumbled over a loose rock, catching herself with a gasp.

Obito Uchiha, lagging slightly behind, was in the worst shape. His goggles askew, and frustration radiated off him like a heat shimmer. "This is ridiculous!" he yelled, dodging a spray of rocks kicked up by a near-miss Raiton blast.

"We're running like scared rabbits! Sensei! Just let us turn and fight! One good Fireball jutsu, I'll roast those Kumo jerks chasing us!" He punctuated his plea with a clumsy kick at a dust devil.

Minato Namikaze, moving with an almost preternatural calm at the head of the group, didn't break stride. His blonde hair was dulled by dust, but his blue eyes remained sharp, constantly evaluating the terrain, the distance, the pursuers. "Conserve your strength, Obito," he called back, his voice steady but carrying an edge of fatigue they rarely heard. "This chase serves a purpose. We are the lure. Engaging now wastes the chakra we'll desperately need for what comes next. Trust the plan.

Obito grumbled, "Easy for you to say, you're not the one tripping over your own feet..." but he pushed on, fueled by sheer stubbornness.

Suddenly, Minato stiffened almost imperceptibly. His eyes lost focus for a split second, his head tilting slightly as if listening to a distant, silent voice.

It was Shiba's telepathic command, delivered with the Nara clan's characteristic cool precision directly into his mind: "Minato, it is already done. They did not all follow us but some chose to remain behind so your destination will have to change."

Minato's mental response was instantaneous, sharp with surprise cutting through his fatigue: "Where to?"

"Back where we were." Shiba's mental voice was calm, and decisive.

Minato's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. *Back? To the positions we have just abandoned? That made no tactical sense against the force left behind.

"What about the location ahead?" he pressed mentally, picturing the planned rendezvous point deep in No Man's Land.

Shiba's reply held a note of cold finality: "Don't worry about that, it will be sorted."

The mental link was severed. Minato processed the order in a heartbeat. Shiba was pivoting the entire plan, reacting to the enemy splitting their forces.

Without breaking stride, Minato spun on his heel, a whirlwind of yellow fabric and dust. His movement was so abrupt it forced Kakashi, Rin, and Obito to skid to a halt, staring at him in confusion and exhaustion.

"Kakashi," Minato stated, his voice cutting through the howling wind with absolute clarity. All trace of fatigue was gone, replaced by the focused intensity.

"The plan has changed. You are in charge, Kakashi. Lead the team. Your sole objective: reach the original planned rendezvous point in No Man's Land. Do not deviate. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Understood?"

Kakashi's visible eye widened slightly. He gave a sharp nod. "Yes, Sensei."

Minato offered no explanation, no reassurance beyond the absolute certainty in his eyes. "Conserve your strength. Trust Kakashi. I'll handle something."

His gaze swept over his students – Kakashi's weary determination, Rin's fearful confusion, Obito's frustrated exhaustion. Then, before another word could be spoken, space itself seemed to ripple around Minato Namikaze. There was no puff of smoke, no dramatic flare of chakra – just a sudden, impossible absence. One moment he was there, a pillar of yellow resolve in the dusty wasteland. The next, he was simply gone.

=====

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