As Shino walked through the long corridor, his boots tapped gently against the polished wooden floor. To his left, doors lined the hall—quiet rooms where magistrates, scribes, and ninjas moved in and out, murmuring over scrolls and reports. To his right, a serene garden stretched outward—rocks placed with precision, blossoms in soft pinks and whites blooming gently under the midday sun. Maids drifted past, hanging fine fabrics across wooden rails like flowing banners in the breeze.
The entire structure was rectangular—hallways looping around a central courtyard, every corner seamlessly connected. The silence was one of discipline, not peace.
He stepped forward to make a turn—and paused.
A figure stood just ahead.
A ninja in a crimson robe leaned against the wooden frame, arms crossed. Bandages tightly wrapped both his forearms, fraying slightly at the ends. His face was half-covered—mouth and nose concealed behind the same red cloth. Black headband worn low. Red hair, sharp and spiked, flared from beneath like flames rising from a dying ember.
The ninja's eyes locked onto Shino's.
Stillness.
Tension.
Recognition.
And something else.
Something unspoken.
Shino halted.
His voice cracked softly, barely louder than the drifting wind.
"Se…nsei…"
That man—Mitchuri Irugen—stood beneath the faint glow of the paper lanterns, half his face buried in shadow. One of the strongest ninja in the entire village… and yet, his presence was almost ghostlike.
His half-lidded eyes, distant and heavy, fell on Shino like a weight.
They looked more detached than Haru's. More… tired.
Like he could fall asleep mid-sentence.
"Oh. Shino," Mitchuri muttered with a drawl.
"How was your first mission?"
Shino turned his face to the side, brows furrowed, voice bitter.
"Tsk. It's going to be terrible…"
He clenched his jaw. He knew just by looking at me?
Of course. I'm in the Hekai's residence after all…
Mitchuri tilted his head slightly.
"Uuuhhhh. I seeeee…"
Then, with the faintest grin,
"Is it because Haru was present?"
Shino snapped, voice cracking through the tension.
"HOW DO YOU KNOW ALL THIS? DID YOU TELL THE HEKAI?!"
Mitchuri's gaze dropped, his voice softer now.
"Uhhh… sorry. But do you even know how experienced Haru is?"
Shino's expression tightened, frustration on his face.
"I know he's ranked fifth in the Index. I know he's handled more missions than most—"
Mitchuri cut in, his tone sharp.
"Not just that. He's fifth without a Honeki."
He stepped forward.
"Nineteenth in the Nation. Eighty-sixth in the entire ninja world. The only Death Squad member without a single awakened Honeki. Still the first in every intelligence-based index. Tactics? Unmatched."
Shino's voice lowered, skeptical.
"Known for manipulating his teammates…?"
Mitchuri didn't answer.
Mitchuri took a lazy step forward, his red robe brushing softly against the polished wooden floor. The garden breeze behind him pushed a few petals across his shoulder, but he didn't flinch. He only stood there, half-slouched, the weight of his presence pressing down heavier than his words.
"You don't like him."
Shino raised his head slightly, the frustration clear in his tone. "I don't hate him either. I just don't understand him. It's like… he's always three steps ahead. And yet, no one seems to question him."
Mitchuri's eyes didn't blink. "That's because no one can afford to. You either walk with Haru, or end up lost behind him. You're sharp, Shino, but this isn't about sharpness. It's about control."
Shino's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
Mitchuri turned slowly, beginning to walk toward the far hallway. His last words trailed behind like a warning:
"Watch how he moves… not where he steps. That's the only way to follow someone like Haru."
Then he vanished into the corridor's shadow, the scent of incense and cherry blossoms swirling in the silence he left behind.
---
Back in the present, water surged around the weakened structure. Akiro stood firm, arms raised, holding the debris above them like a dome. The pressure groaned, the air thick with damp tension.
No one spoke. But their silence said everything.
Then Shino's voice cut through it.
"Do you guys see Haru as a villain?"
The others flinched—like the question had been living in their minds too, unspoken.
Akiro barked back instantly. "Shino, you fool. What the hell are you thinking?"
Shino didn't lift his head. He sat there, forehead pressed to the muddy floor. "He's been pulling strings. Pushing Chimaru until he broke. Using Matsamaru like a pawn. Henji.. He's manipulating all of us. For a mission none of us understand?"
He gritted his teeth. "So why… why do you all still look at him like nothing's changed?"
Silence again.
But this one was different.
Akiro exhaled. A tired, almost amused breath. Matsamaru gave a bright chuckle. Even Hiro cracked.
Because they understood now.
Haru didn't need to be the hero. He never asked to be.
He was the one who made sure they made it this far. And maybe… that was enough.
Hiro chuckled—soft but bright, his eyes closed as he tilted his head toward Shino. "No, we don't," he said calmly, "and we won't."
Shino looked up, caught off guard by the warmth in Hiro's voice. The certainty. The smile.
Matsamaru leaned back, arms crossed, his voice steady. "Haru might've pushed us. Manipulated things in ways that broke us down. But that's fine. That's exactly why the Hekai picked him."
He glanced at Shino. "No Honeki. No blessings. No bloodline power. Just raw instinct, strategy, and a mind that sees further than the rest of us. If using us was part of his plan to beat those demons…" He shrugged. "Then let it rip."
Akiro let out a breath, a rare smile tugging at his lips. For a brief second, his concentration loosened—his telekinesis wavered. The dome creaked sharply under the weight of the flood outside. He caught it again, hands raised, sweat tracing his temple.
But even while holding the sky from falling, Akiro nodded.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Let it rip."
Shino blinked, stunned by the warmth in the air—as if Haru had actually brainwashed them. It didn't make sense. These were warriors hardened by loss and war, yet they trusted him without hesitation.
And then… he smiled.
Matsamaru caught it first. "Eh? You smiled?"
Shino snapped back. "No, fool. Damn it!"
Hiro burst into laughter. "No, you definitely smiled. Right, Akiro?"
Akiro, still holding the collapsing dome above them, grinned. "Yeah. And this one was clearer than the one last year when you saw the fox cub fall in the pond."
"Damn it!"
Meanwhile, back in the void...
Haru and Henji remained still, leaning quietly against the frail paper walls supported by thin wooden beams—their only pocket of shelter. The air was thick with moisture, silence only broken by the occasional drip of distant water.
Then Haru shifted.
He looked down. His robe… damp.
Henji noticed too. "Water…"
The floorboards were soaking through.
They locked eyes—no words needed.
Haru flung the door open. A rush of wet air hit them. And then they saw it—the water had begun flooding the void, but not flowing downward into the forbidden space below. It was curving, redirecting unnaturally.
"They really are trying to stop it from entering the inner void…" Haru muttered.
His plan was working.
Bit by bit, the pressure would force their only escape wide open.
Haru turned his head slightly, the faintest smirk curling on his face as he asked, "Can you swim?"
Henji blinked, caught off guard. "Wait—what? We're just gonna let the water rise until it lifts us back up to the village?!"
Haru didn't answer the question. Instead, calm as ever, he said, "Good."
Henji's jaw dropped. "You're not listening at all!"
Still unfazed, Haru responded again—same word, same tone. "Good."
"Ahhhh! This is not good! This is never good! How can I dive with one arm?! I can't even swim! How is this good?!"
But Haru was already gone.
With the water now chest-deep and rising fast, he simply leaned forward—and dived straight into the oceanic void without a sound, vanishing beneath the surface.
Henji screamed after him in panic, then cursed under his breath. "Damn it… damn it… Damn you, Haru!"
He leapt in with a splash—but unlike Haru's graceful dive, Henji thrashed wildly, flailing in circles, gulping for air.
"I'M NOT SWIMMING, I'M SINKING!"
The current began to pull him, and somewhere in the chaos, he caught a glimpse of Haru beneath the water—arms outstretched, body still, eyes half-closed… guiding the flow like he planned it.
Henji gurgled, "I hate this genius…" before disappearing under again.