Before his departure, Shuji had given orders—so when Shizune appeared at the Wasabi estate, Anko and Itachi instinctively kept their distance, neither speaking nor inquiring rashly.
Shizune, sensing their cautious reserve, stepped forward. "I am Shizune," she said calmly. "I once lived in Konoha but left seven or eight years ago to travel with my master." She offered her background.
Anko's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "You're already a Jōnin, right, Shizune-senpai?"
"No," Shizune waved both hands in earnest. "I was a chūnin when I left and still hold that rank." She glanced about before lowering her voice: "My ninja number is 010800."
"Mitarashi Anko, Chūnin," Anko replied briskly.
"Uchiha Itachi, Genin," Itachi answered succinctly.
Shizune nodded at Shuji's mention. "Before you left, Captain Shuji arranged that if you are injured, you may call on me—I specialize in medical ninjutsu." She hesitated, then added, "I also have self–defense and support skills."
Her rare openness softened Anko's guard. At last Anko ventured, "Shizune-sensei's teacher—" then immediately stopped herself. "Sorry."
"No matter. My master retired, and I retired with him."
At that moment, a muffled commotion came from the front courtyard. Jirōchō returned in haste, his face grave. "The city gates are closed!" he announced. "They've declared martial law on grounds of emergency—Komainu is coming!"
Shizune stepped forward. "Please retreat to the rear courtyard! We'll handle the front."
Anko and Itachi exchanged a look of understanding. Without words, Itachi melted into the corridor's shadows—per squad tactics, he would observe hidden and choose his moment.
But Jirōchō shook his head firmly. "No. They target me. If I hide, they'll come to the back. Besides, shinobi need observation from concealment to gain advantage. If I hide, you must expose yourselves."
He drew a deep breath. "I will stand guard in the front courtyard. You decide when to strike."
With solemn bows to Shizune and Anko—and a final nod toward Itachi's unseen vigil—Jirōchō strode into the front courtyard, his posture resolute as if making an irrevocable vow.
Anko watched his back and murmured in admiration, "Lord Wasabi…he truly is a fine man."
"Yes," Shizune replied softly. "That is why he was our sensei's friend."
A thick tension fell over the garden. From the front courtyard came hushed shouts of Wasabi's guards, the scrape of metal, and the chill of drawn blades. Anxiety wove around every nerve like invisible vines.
Suddenly—
Boom—!!!
The massive front gate exploded inward, the wooden panels and frame twisting and splintering under an unseen battering ram. Splinters flew like hail!
Through smoke and dust, three silhouettes strode into the front courtyard.
At their head was Komainu, the militia captain, cloaked in white haori that billowed in the blast's wind. Though his sword remained sheathed, an aura of lethal intent pressed the guards back in terror.
To his left stood a fearsome figure: bony white fingers wrapped in filthy bandages, tipped with inhuman claws. A ragged red sash hung from his sleeve. His left eye—a dull amber orb like a drowned fish's—swept the frightened crowd.
To Komainu's right loomed a gargantuan brown gourd strapped to a rain-soaked cloak. Moss clung to its rough surface as if alive.
Their presence dropped the courtyard's temperature by ten degrees. Wasabi's guards quailed, grips on spears faltering.
Komainu's icy gaze pierced the quivering men and fixed on Wasabi Jirōchō, positioned at the center. He spoke low yet thunderously:
"Wasabi Jirōchō…your path ends here."
His voice swept across the courtyard like a blade. Then—with a dismissive hiss—he added:
"And these vermin," gesturing to his cohorts, "crush them as well."
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild