Henji stared at Haru like he was seeing him for the first time. No words. Just awe. The weight of Haru's plan sank into his bones like the chill of deep water.
Haru didn't move. Eyes closed. Arms folded. The storm within him was still. Focused. Every second ticked like a countdown.
A hum began to rise... not from machines, not from chakra-but from the very air itself. The void trembled.
Above. Outside.
Akiro's shelter-nothing but warped planks and sealed scraps-sat like a coffin amidst chaos. The flood thundered down, smashing through the village's boundaries like divine punishment. Water twisted in cyclones, spiraling with terrifying force, caving rooftops and devouring alleys.
Inside the shelter, silence. The kind only fear could sculpt.
Water slammed the roof. Once. Again. Then it pressed. Not like a wave, but like a god's hand. The wood creaked violently, and for a moment-just a moment-it felt like time stopped.
The sealed village, meant to keep intruders out, had become the cage of its own people.
And the ocean was knocking.
Inside the shelter, they sat in dead silence-breaths low, bodies tense. The groaning of soaked wood above them was the only sound, a constant reminder of the storm just inches away.
Akiro, kneeling at the center, arms outstretched, eyes glowing faintly blue, kept the shattered planks suspended with raw telekinesis. His fingers trembled slightly-not from weakness, but from the sheer force pressing down from above.
Shino's eyes widened, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Chimaru..."
The name alone sent a ripple through the room.
Akiro gritted his teeth, eyes still locked upward, sweat sliding down his brow as the pressure intensified.
"If that really was him," Akiro said, voice rough, "then he's no longer just part of the team..."
He paused, wood cracking above.
"...He's a force of nature now."
"I guess he broke," Shino muttered, gaze still locked upward.
"That's what happens when you stop seeing him as part of the team."
Matsamaru turned sharply, eyes burning.
"Watch your mouth."
His voice cut through the room like a blade.
Tension crackled in the shelter. Hiro said nothing, arms crossed, eyes shut-processing.
Akiro's voice returned, lower this time, but firm.
"This... was definitely part of Haru's plan."
Everyone turned to him instantly-shock flashing across their faces.
"What do you mean?" Hiro finally asked.
Akiro exhaled slowly, keeping the ceiling held.
"You don't unleash something like that without timing it perfectly. Chimaru wasn't breaking... he was ordered to shatter."
"He knew Chimaru would spiral-either to prove himself, or lose himself. And you..." Akiro's voice dropped lower, darker, "you were the mirror. The one Chimaru would reflect himself against. And when the pressure cracked you, Chimaru snapped."
Matsamaru didn't speak. His fists were clenched.
"That's why Haru killed the bandit," Akiro said flatly. "Not out of necessity. It was calculated. A way to rattle your core. To push you deeper into doubt. And once you walked into the trap-he knew the message would get back to us."
He exhaled sharply.
"That was the final straw. Chimaru saw what Haru was capable of. Saw that Haru would sacrifice anything. Even his team. Even him."
Akiro's lips curled into a bitter smile. "And that's what snapped him."
The silence returned like a curtain dropping.
"Now," Akiro whispered, "he's using Henji. No honeki. No power. Just plans and people. One by one."
His voice echoed faintly against the wet wood and rumbling water.
"That's Haru for you," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "He doesn't need a god's blessing. His ability... is madness."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Even the creaking of the collapsing roof above seemed to hush.
In that instant, under a drowning world, every one of them understood-
They hadn't been playing the game.
The air inside the debris shelter was thick. Not just with the scent of damp wood and pressure from the rushing flood above-but with something heavier.
Realization.
Akiro's voice was steady, low, as he knelt in place, both arms still raised-holding the collapsing roof above them with his telekinesis. Sweat clung to his brow. But his eyes... his eyes had long left the present.
They were tracing the pattern Haru had left behind.
"He didn't just use Chimaru," Akiro began, his voice firm. "He used both of you."
Matsamaru lifted his head. His jaw tightened.
"Haru didn't know who the target was. But he didn't need to. All he needed was to push the right buttons and wait for the cracks."
Akiro turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at Matsamaru.
"He picked you because you were the most stable. The most rational. The one who could take the hit and keep moving. That wasn't trust-it was placement."
Matsamaru's brows furrowed, the words digging deeper with each breath.
"Chimaru?" Akiro continued. "He left him behind on purpose. Not because he wasn't good enough-but because he was good enough to break."
The words echoed like a drum in the silence.
They'd been playing in it.
Shino's eyes widened, his breath caught halfway in his chest.
Who's really the enemy here...?
The demons they were sent to destroy?
Or Haru-the one pulling strings tighter than any curse could?
The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit. His fists trembled lightly at his sides. Haru's every move... every sacrifice... it all served a larger goal. But at what cost?
Shino lowered his head, the question echoing in his mind.
Was Haru saving them-or reshaping them into his own weapons?
Across the shelter, Hiro remained quiet, his back leaned against a shattered support beam. He hadn't said a word since Akiro's realization.
But he was watching.
Watching the tension swell. Watching the cracks grow deeper.
He studied each of them-not just with suspicion, but with quiet understanding. Every expression. Every word. Every silence.
Because Hiro knew something the others didn't yet accept:
In this kind of war, where minds were weapons and loyalty was a gamble...
...the true antagonist wasn't always the one holding a sword.