Raizen glanced up to see Madara observing, apparently calm but slightly flushed from exertion. The Jōnin who had accompanied him had vanished in the chaos. Raizen didn't answer—he knew the situation was precarious. Supplies gone, chakra low, allies scattered—every step now counted.
"Then let's deal with the enemy first," Madara said, eyeing the two ninjas closing in. One was a Chūnin; the other, a Genin. A Chūnin's strike could kill them if they weren't careful.
"You two kids! I won't forgive you!"
The Chūnin shouted, charging with a roar. Hand signs formed swiftly; his stomach drew in a deep breath.
"Wind Style—Breakthrough!"
A violent wind carved through the air, slicing around Raizen and Madara like sharpened steel. Both were thrown back by the hurricane-force attack. Raizen turned to Madara mid-retreat.
"You handle the Chūnin. I'll take care of the Genin."
"Wait—why me?" Madara blinked, confused.
"Because you're… handsome," Raizen replied, deadpan.
"What?" Madara cocked a brow, hand on his chin.
Before he could argue, Raizen darted forward, engaging the Genin with all the speed his exhausted chakra allowed. The Chūnin, furious at being tricked, barreled toward Madara. He cursed, realizing he'd been played.
"Douren, you bastard! I'll never forgive you!"