The wait had lasted far longer than anyone expected.
They had boarded the ship before sunrise, watched the dim evening sun sink beyond the horizon, and then endured a long, suffocating night. Now, even when the sun rose again, it looked weary and dim, half-hidden by the thick, iron-gray clouds—like an overworked office clerk dragging himself through another day.
Perhaps it was because of the dismal weather—
—but the atmosphere aboard the ship was heavy, suffocatingly so.
Jūzō Biwa noticed it all. He understood how hard it had been for his comrades. First, they had suffered a crushing defeat on the front lines when Konoha's decapitation strategy shattered their ranks. Then they'd been hunted down like rabbits by Konoha's shinobi on the retreat. If not for their reinforcements arriving as quickly as they did, few of them would still be alive to see this ship.
So yes—
It was only natural that the slightest sound of wind or grass made them flinch.
Fortunately,
the jōnin among them were holding up well enough. Though many were homesick, none dared voice impatience or ask when they would finally return to the village. Even if most didn't truly believe that unfamiliar ally could survive an encounter with Orochimaru,
they all chose to wait.
They would wait until either Konoha's pursuit reached the shore—
or until everyone's patience completely ran dry.
Then, and only then, would they set sail for home.
"Jūzō, patrol's done?"
In the ship's mess hall, Hōzuki Mangetsu looked up from his bowl of miso soup and called out as Jūzō entered.
"Mm."
Jūzō replied with a brief nod, grabbed a tray, and walked to the serving counter. He hadn't eaten breakfast yet; he had spent the early morning inspecting both ships, making sure everything was in order before finally coming to fill his stomach.
"How's everyone holding up on the ships?"
"Still managing."
"So, Jūzō—how long are you planning to wait?"
"Why? Mangetsu, getting restless already?"
Jūzō carried his breakfast over and sat across from him.
Today's meal was simple: a bowl of rice, a slice of grilled fish, a small dish of pickles, and a steaming bowl of miso soup.
"Restless? Hardly! I'm not in any rush to get back to the village."
Mangetsu finished the last sip of his soup and set the bowl down. Lowering his voice, he asked,
"I'm just curious… Jūzō, do you really think that Koeda Kyoichi will make it back?"
Jūzō didn't answer right away. He took a sip of soup, then bit into a piece of pickle with a loud crunch before replying:
"I don't know him as well as you seem to think. But… that boy killed Hanzō of the Salamander. And Orochimaru—one of the Legendary Sannin—earned his title from Hanzō himself. So yes… I hope he comes back."
"Still, it's been a long time…"
Mangetsu glanced at the clock on the wall of the mess hall.
The time was 8:47 a.m.
They had boarded the ships around four in the morning the previous day. Even ignoring the time spent retreating to the coast, they had been waiting here for over twenty-four hours. And given the way shinobi battles tended to end swiftly—fast offense, fragile defense—the fight should have been decided long ago.
"Time alone doesn't prove anything," Jūzō said calmly. "The Iwa-nin army of ten thousand took three days and nights to bring down the Third Raikage. And back in the day, the Second Mizukage and Second Tsuchikage fought for several days before they both perished."
"Yeah, and every one of your examples ends with people dying," Mangetsu muttered.
The piece of fish Jūzō had just picked up slipped from his chopsticks and fell back onto the plate. He glared at Mangetsu, annoyed.
"Mangetsu, you damn loudmouth—if you can't say something useful, just shut it." He scowled, then added, "Come to think of it, you were out on that mission with Fuguki and the others, weren't you? What the hell happened out there? How did only you and Fuguki make it back alive?"
Jūzō clearly didn't want to talk more about Kyoichi.
After all, he had already made up his mind—he would keep waiting.
Unless Konoha's pursuit caught up to them,
or the ship's supplies dipped into the red,
he would not give the order to sail.
So instead, he switched topics.
And this was something he'd been genuinely curious about.
"Tch."
At the mention of that disastrous defeat, Mangetsu's face twisted like someone biting into bitter melon.
"What's there to talk about? Fuguki and I already submitted our reports. If you want details, read them when we get back."
He stood up, tray in hand, ready to walk out.
"Mangetsu, I'd actually like to hear how you two managed to lose,"
came a voice from behind.
Mangetsu froze.
Turning, he saw Terumī Mei standing there with Suiren, both of them staring intently at him.
"Mei? You too…"
Mangetsu's face soured even further.
"Quit struggling, Mangetsu. You might as well tell us now—otherwise, we'll just come looking for you later," Jūzō said, chewing his fish and glancing up at him. His sharp eyes nailed Mangetsu in place like spikes through his feet.
With a bang, Mangetsu slammed his tray down on the table and sat back down heavily.
"There's really nothing to say," he muttered, defeated. "We infiltrated the rear of Konoha's lines and immediately ran into a squad of genin. Nobody thought anything of them—just a bunch of fresh academy graduates. We figured we'd wipe them out in a heartbeat…"
"And what, one of those genin turned out to be a dragon in disguise?"
Mei and Suiren had also sat down by now, unable to resist jumping in.
"Of course not," Mangetsu said, shaking his head. "Those kids were as green as they looked. Ringo just let out a bit of killing intent, and they nearly pissed themselves."
Ringo Ameyuri—the wielder of the Kiba twin swords, and partner to Munashi Jinpachi, wielder of the Shibuki explosive blade. Together, the two were known as The Merciless Duo.
In Kirigakure, their names alone were enough to stop a crying child.
"Then what happened? Reinforcements from Konoha? Come on, Mangetsu, stop dragging it out and tell us who beat you!"
Terumī Mei's patience finally snapped; her brows drew together as she urged him on.
"...We don't know."
Mangetsu's answer came in a low voice.
"Huh?"
Mei blinked, baffled.
Even Jūzō paused mid-bite, staring at Mangetsu with an expression that could only mean—
Are you kidding me?
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