[ Ken Shimura PoV ]
Mizuki's friendly smile died like watching an ice crack across a frozen pond.
His lips pulled back from his teeth. What replaced the academy instructor's mask was something petty and mean, worn smooth by years of nursing grudges.
The giant fuma shuriken scraped against bark as he wrenched it free from his back. The weapon was massive—easily three feet across with four razor-sharp blades. Moonlight caught the edges as he hefted it with ease.
My hands were still wet with Iruka's blood. Behind me, Naruto's breathing came in short, sharp gasps. Iruka had gone still against the cottage wall, five holes punched through his chunin vest leaking red.
"I can't believe you're friends with this monster" Mizuki said coldly "Even after knowing what he is. What it did to your parents, Ken"
The forest around us was too quiet. No insects. No wind. Just the creak of trees and Iruka's breathing.
I shifted my weight, boots crunching on fallen leaves "My parents died fighting the Nine-Tails twelve years ago. Not a kid who can't do a basic clone jutsu."
Mizuki spun the giant shuriken once. Casually. The kind of motion that said he'd done this a thousand times.
The word barely left my mouth before the shuriken whistled through the air.
I moved on instinct—grabbed Iruka and pulled him away. We both hit the ground hard. My shoulder slammed into dirt. Iruka's weight crushed down on top of me. The shuriken screamed overhead, close enough that I felt the displacement of air, and then—
CRASH.
Wood exploded. The cottage wall disintegrated where we'd been standing—splinters the size of kunai burst outward in a deadly spray. One carved a line across my cheek. Hot blood welled up from the side.
"N...Naruto!" Iruka's voice came out hoarse and desperate. He was trying to push himself up with shaking arms "Get back—run—"
But Naruto had gone statue-still. His eyes were locked on us. Then on the destruction. On the shuriken buried so deep in the wood that only the grip-ring was visible. The scroll was clutched to his chest.
Mizuki landed down to the clearing.
No sound. No warning. Just suddenly there—ten feet away, the second giant shuriken already gripped in both hands. He looked at me the way someone looks at a dog that needs to be put down.
"You barely graduated today, Ken." He let the weapon spin lazily in his grip. "What're you planning to do? Throw that kunai at me? Run away?"
I stood slowly.
My heart was beating fast but steady. Adrenaline sharpened everything—I could see the individual leaves on the trees, count Mizuki's breaths, track the minute shifts in his stance.
Mizuki laughed maniacally "No ANBU coming. No backup. I've been planning this for months" His grin widened "Just you, a crippled chunin, and the demon brat. Nobody even knows we are out here"
Behind me, Iruka tried to stand. Failed. His legs wouldn't hold his weight. Blood dripped steadily from his wounds, pattering onto leaves like rain.
"Ken..." His voice came weak. Scared. Not for himself "Get Naruto and run. I'll—I'll hold him—"
"You can't even stand, Iruka" Mizuki tilted his head "What're you going to do? Hold my attention for few seconds?"
He moved closing half the distance before I could blink, the shuriken already mid-swing aimed at my throat.
I threw myself backward. Felt the blade pass close enough to kiss my skin. Rolled and hid behind one of many tree trunk. Bark exploded where the shuriken carved a deep gouge—wood chips sprayed across my face.
"You dodged it, huh?" Mizuki's voice came from my left. "Let's see how long you can hide!"
I formed hand seals behind the tree. Fast but precise. Ox. Dog. Monkey. Ram.
Chakra coiled through my system—cool and fluid, filling pathways that months of training had carved deep. The technique came together smoothly, no wasted energy, exactly like the scroll my "father" had supposedly left described.
"Water Style: Water Clone!"
A perfect copy of me rose from the water puddle twenty feet away—water given shape and substance and false life. It moved with my thoughts, positioned itself in my peripheral vision, then charged around the opposite side of the tree toward Mizuki.
I stayed hidden.
The clone engaged Mizuki with a flying kick. I heard the impact—flesh on flesh. Heard Mizuki grunt in surprise. The clone pressed forward with a combination—left jab, right cross, knee strike.
Through the connection to the clone was not there, but I could sense everything. Every blocked strike. Every dodge. The feedback was immediate and perfect—I knew exactly where Mizuki was, how he moved, what patterns he favored, based on just sound alone.
Ten seconds. The clone bought me ten seconds before Mizuki's kunai punched through its chest.
SPLASH.
Water exploded outward, drenching Mizuki and the surrounding grass. He stood in the puddle, breathing slightly harder, scanning the tree line with narrowed eyes.
"So you know one C-rank jutsu." He wiped water from his face. "But that doesn't change anything, kid. You're still just—"
I came around the tree on his blind side. Fast and low. Lee's footwork—weight on the balls of my feet, knees bent, center of gravity dropped. Each step placed deliberately to minimize sound.
Mizuki sensed something, turning around hurriedly.
Too late.
My kunai aimed for his heart.
He twisted. Impossibly fast. His own kunai came up in a defensive block that caught my wrist instead of my blade. The impact sent needles of pain shooting up my arm. My kunai went flying into the darkness.
"Nice try." His knee came up toward my stomach.
I bent backward. Felt it pass close enough to graze my shirt. Used the momentum to roll away and create distance. Came up empty-handed but mobile.
Mizuki charged forward. His taijutsu was cleaner than mine—decades of experience showed in every movement. I blocked what I could. Dodged what I couldn't. Felt my arms going numb from the impacts.
A roundhouse kick caught my ribs.
Pain exploded across my side like lightning. The world tilted. I flew backward and hit the ground hard enough to drive the air from my lungs. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. My vision went white around the edges.
"Pathetic." Mizuki's voice came from above me. "You've got some tricks, sure. But you're still just a genin"
I tried to push myself up.
"Ken!" Naruto's voice cracked with panic.
Through blurred vision, I saw Mizuki forming hand seals. One-handed. His other hand held a kunai pointed casually at my throat.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu."
Oh. That's bad.
Small fireballs erupted from his mouth—dozens of them, each the size of my fist, all burning with orange-red heat. They spread out in an arc that covered the entire clearing. No dodging. No cover. Just fire and death.
The first fireball hit three feet from my head. Grass ignited instantly. Heat washed over me in waves. More fireballs struck the ground in a tightening pattern. Smoke filled my lungs. I couldn't see. Couldn't breathe. The world became fire and choking darkness and—
And then I was somewhere else.
Behind the large oak tree on the clearing's edge. Gasping. Whole. Unburned.
Through the smoke and flames, I saw my burning 'corpse' collapse. Saw Mizuki standing over it. Saw Naruto's face go white with horror.
"NO!" Naruto's scream cut through everything "KEN!"
Iruka had gone completely still. His eyes were wide. Disbelieving. He'd watched 'me' die.
Mizuki prodded the burning body with his foot. It collapsed further, clothes and flesh charring in the spreading flames. The smell was horrific—burnt meat and hair and something chemical from the academy uniform.
"Shame." Mizuki's voice was almost conversational. "He had potential. Too bad he—"
The corpse exploded into water.
The flames hissed and died as once again water burst outward in a wave that drenched Mizuki from head to foot. Steam rose in clouds. The smell of charred flesh vanished, replaced by the clean scent of stream water.
Mizuki stood frozen. Water dripped from his hair. His clothes. His weapon. His face had gone slack with incomprehension.
"What..." He looked down at the puddle where my 'corpse' had been.
Understanding dawned across his face. Then disbelief. Then something that looked almost like fear.
He turned, weapon raised, but this time he was too late to catch on to that.
I moved
The kunai I'd retrieved while he gloated over my "corpse" went up in a smooth arc. Between the ribs. Angled upward. The blade punched through cloth and skin and muscle and found his heart with the precision of Lee's drilling the strike pattern into me five hundred times.
SPLAT.
Blood erupted hot and wet across my hands. Across my face. Across everything.
Mizuki's eyes went impossibly wide. His mouth opened. Only blood came out—dark arterial blood that bubbled past his lips and poured down his chin. The shuriken fell from his nerveless fingers with a heavy thud.
"You..." The word gurgled out with more blood. "Just... a kid..."
I twisted the kunai. Made sure. Felt the blade grind against bone and cartilage. Felt his heart's final desperate beats against steel.
"You underestimated me." My voice was someone else's "Fatal mistake"
His knees buckled. I stepped back and pulled the kunai free as he fell. He hit the ground face-first with a wet, meaty thud that seemed too loud in the sudden silence. His body twitched once. Twice.
Then stopped.
The clearing went completely quiet.
No insects. No wind. Just Iruka's ragged breathing and Naruto's sharp gasps and the slow drip-drip-drip of blood falling from my kunai onto the leaves.
I stood over Mizuki's corpse. Steam rose from the warm blood cooling in the night air. My hands were steady. My breathing was controlled. My heart rate was already dropping back toward normal.
I felt... nothing in particular.
A problem had existed. I had solved it.
This is fine. This is normal. This is what shinobi do.
"Ken..."
Iruka's voice came out strangled. Careful. Like he was talking to a wild animal that might bolt or attack.
I turned slowly. Iruka had managed to push himself up against the tree. His face was ghost-white from blood loss. His eyes were locked on me with an expression I couldn't quite read—horror, maybe, or fear, or calculation.
His hand had moved to his kunai pouch.
Not drawing. Not threatening. Just... there. Ready.
"Are you...Are you alright?"
The question seemed absurd. I looked down at myself. Mizuki's blood covered my hands, my arms, my face. My clothes were soaked with it. Steam rose from the hot liquid cooling in the cold night air.
"I'm fine." I wiped the kunai on Mizuki's vest—carefully, thoroughly, until the blade was clean. Then I returned it to my pouch with the same mechanical precision.
Iruka's voice came out hollow. He was staring at me like I was something he didn't recognize. "You just...You just killed someone. Are you alright, Ken?"
"He was a traitor attempting to steal forbidden village techniques, sensei" Each word came out measured "The alternative was allowing him to escape, which would have resulted in those techniques being sold to enemy villages and likely more deaths. I eliminated the threat using the most efficient method available. I did right?"
Iruka tried to find words that wouldn't come. His eyes kept flicking between me and Mizuki's corpse and back again.
He is probably thinking if he should be happy that I eliminated a traitor or be sad that I eliminated a traitor.
But it didn't matter as I stared at the quest notification in front of me.
( Quest : Eliminate the Traitor )
( Reward : Silver Gacha Ticket )
[ Quest : Completed ]
. . .
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