Six Months Later
Enzo's room was lit by the first bright rays of the sun. Outside the window, leaves rustled as the wind gently swayed the tree branches, casting trembling shadows on the ground. Kuro sat at a low table, resting his cheek against his hand. Across from him stood his favorite cup, steam rising from it.
"Are you sure you want to take part in the upcoming Chunin Exam?" Enzo's voice broke the silence. Despite the anxiety in his tone, his steady gaze was fixed on the window, admiring the beautiful sunrise.
"Do I even have a choice?" the young man smirked, though without his usual audacity. "Orochimaru-sensei said we've already been nominated."
"Orochimaru never does anything without a reason," the old man muttered. "Especially when it concerns you."
He finally turned his gaze to the youth. The wrinkles on the old man's face seemed to have grown even deeper over the past months—too many dangerous thoughts and far too little sleep.
"I think he was given an order," Enzo leaned slightly forward. "War is close. Everything that used to be mere hints is now obvious. We won't be able to remain in this enchanting ignorance any longer. Six months at most—and when it all begins, Orochimaru, as one of the key combat assets, will be thrown into the most dangerous areas. A genin team would only be a burden."
Hearing this, Kuro nodded involuntarily and spoke:
"And if we become chunin…"
"Then you'll stop being his responsibility," the old man finished. "Given your origins, you'll be able to take missions on your own, decide where and with whom to be. And most importantly—not die because of someone else's decisions."
He fell silent for a couple of minutes, then added:
"Orochimaru understands this. Besides, over the months spent under his guidance, you've grown much stronger. I wouldn't be surprised if you're already at jonin level."
Kuro merely closed his eyes tiredly, as if recalling something important, then murmured with a smile:
"Yes… we really have become stronger."
Indeed, aside from the relentless training with the future Sannin, Team Nine had also begun to regularly take escort, delivery, and clearance missions. Fortunately, there were no more unforeseen surprises like during their first mission—until their most recent one. At first glance, everything was as usual: a calm road, a mission of moderate difficulty. But it was precisely at moments like these that a shinobi's life tended to throw unpleasant surprises.
They were already heading toward Konoha when Orochimaru suddenly stopped in the middle of the path. His gaze was fixed on the ground, as if he had noticed something strange.
"Stop," he said quietly, a steely note in his voice.
Mikoto turned around warily.
"Is something wrong?"
The sensei did not answer immediately. He slowly crouched down, ran his fingers over the ground, picked up a handful of slightly scorched earth, and clenched his fist.
"There was a fight here," he finally said. "And quite recently. Someone tried to hide all the traces, but fortunately, they were in a hurry."
Without a word, Kuro formed hand seals. From his shadow emerged Yami and Yuki—the Divine Dogs. They did not bark or growl, only froze with their noses pressed to the ground.
"Search," Nara commanded.
Fortunately, the trail really was quite fresh. Half an hour later, the shikigami led them to a slope with slightly compacted soil. Orochimaru quickly formed seals, and the ground beneath their feet began to shift, revealing dirt, blood, and corpses.
Six bodies. They were dressed in the uniforms of Sunagakure shinobi. One glance from Orochimaru was enough for everything to become clear.
"This one—" he pointed at a rather scrawny blond man "—I know him. He's definitely from Konoha."
"What…?" Nawaki breathed softly, frozen in place.
"Disguise," Mikoto whispered, her eyes beginning to take on a dangerous crimson glow. "They changed clothes and are now posing as our shinobi."
Kuro slowly straightened, looking at the dead bodies.
"They didn't just kill a squad of ninja. They did it within the borders of the Land of Fire. That means they needed something truly important."
Orochimaru looked grim. His eyes gleamed with a cold light. He didn't bother explaining what that meant—everyone already understood.
"We can't let them get away," Nawaki said. "Even if they're dangerous."
"Even if we're still genin, this could be extremely important," Mikoto added.
The Sannin sighed, and an almost imperceptible… pride? …flickered across his face.
"Very well," he said. "But you must obey orders completely. If I say run, you run! Kuro, use the dogs—we need their trail."
The entire next night was spent in pursuit. Yuki and Yami led them flawlessly. Scents, tracks, broken branches—everything pointed toward the Land of Wind. And finally, at dusk on the second day, they froze on a slope, looking down.
Before them lay the enemy camp—at first glance rather careless, but in reality surrounded by traps. A tent, a campfire, six people. Two were clearly severely wounded: one with his chest tightly bandaged, another missing an arm. The remaining four, however, were only lightly battered—there were a couple of cuts visible, but nothing more.
"If they really killed a squad of our ninja," Nawaki whispered, "then they're very strong."
"Yes, but apparently the fight didn't come easily to them," Kuro whispered, hiding in the foliage.
"What do we do?" Mikoto glanced at Orochimaru. But he said nothing. He stared at the camp with a predatory calm that made one's blood run cold.
"We think," Kuro answered instead of the teacher. "We need to act fast. I'll send Yami and Yuki after the wounded ones, and I'll take the one with the large scroll on his back."
"You think your shadows can handle it?" Mikoto asked warily.
"Hard to say. These guys are clearly stronger than those nukenin from the Stone. But considering their injuries, I think they should."
"We don't have another option anyway," the Sannin finally spoke. "Mikoto and Nawaki, your target is the big one with the sword."
"And what about—?" Nawaki wanted to object, intending to say that he could take on an enemy alone, but under Orochimaru's strict gaze, he abruptly fell silent.
"The remaining two are mine. Move."
The three genin nodded silently. Their figures dissolved into the foliage.
Team Nine moved simultaneously. Along with them, dozens of kunai with explosive tags flew into the enemy camp. Loud explosions and screams echoed across the field. Kuro dove into the smoke, slightly ahead of the others. Yami and Yuki sprang after their master, dissolving into the chaos like ghosts.
The shinobi who had lost an arm didn't even have time to react—he was immediately thrown by the blast wave into the nearest tree. As soon as he tried to rise, Yuki appeared behind him and sank his fangs into the enemy's throat. The second wounded man was more agile; he managed to defend himself with a Wind Technique and then engaged Yami in battle.
Kuro landed soundlessly in the smoke right behind the shinobi with the large scroll. He didn't seem caught off guard at all—he looked too calm, even indifferent. His face was partially hidden by a scarf, chestnut hair cut short, skin dark, and eyes empty, glassy.
"Well," he said dully, "looks like you've come for me, kid."
Slowly turning around, he shrugged the scroll off his back and hurled it to the ground. A seal, a quick clap of his hands—and from the smoke emerged four puppets.
Two were humanoid: one clad in black armor with extremely long fingers, the other with a crooked smile, horns on its head, and a body covered in seals. Both had retractable blades on their arms, dripping with a violet liquid. The other two were monstrous in shape: a massive spider with pincers and black bead-like eyes, and a bird with a wingspan of over three meters, resembling a demonic kite, with hidden needles glinting among its feathers.
"My name is Toshida," the puppeteer introduced himself. "And you, young shinobi, will be a curious specimen, won't you?!"
Kuro immediately realized that the man standing before him was far from sane. He pulled out a dozen shuriken, infused them with wind chakra, and hurled them forward.
"I see—you'll be interesting."
In an instant, the puppet bird appeared in the path of the projectiles, taking all the damage upon itself. The humanoid puppets attacked at close range: one began delivering rapid piercing strikes with its blades, while the other's arms extended as it tried to grab Nara. Meanwhile, the spider lowered its body and released a cloud of poisonous mist, shrouding the battlefield in purple smoke. From within it, the bird puppet began firing dozens of thin needles from its wings.
Holding his breath, Kuro rolled away from danger, his sensory abilities helping him greatly. He tried to attack with the Flame Cannon, but the strike was instantly deflected by the demonic puppet, which raised its arm and released a powerful stream of fire in return.
The Raging Wave that followed also failed to intimidate Toshida. He deftly evaded it, leaping onto the bird and soaring into the air, all while perfectly controlling his puppets from a distance.
"This won't work," the young man exhaled tiredly—yet at the same time, he grinned wildly.