Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 100

[Takeshi POV]

The smell hit me first.

Navigating the sewage system wasn’t anyone’s idea of a glamorous mission, but it had been tolerable up to this point. Damp walls, narrow walkways, and the occasional scurrying of something small and furry, all manageable. But the faint coppery scent that began wafting through the air as I neared the meeting point was… familiar.

Blood. Human blood.

I had a bad feeling about this. But feelings alone didn’t constitute for a reason to abandon the mission, I needed more than that.

So regardless of my apprehension, I kept moving, following the map Jiraiya-sensei had given me. The layout of the drains was as convoluted as expected, but the strong chakra signature ahead, served as a secondary guide. It was concentrated, strong, steady, and right where the contact was supposed to be. No other signatures nearby, beyond the rats which I took as a good sign—or at least a less bad one. At the very least I wasn’t getting ambushed, so there was that.

The convoluted pathway of the sewage system eventually led me to an open area that seemed out of place. The space was clean—unnervingly so, considering where I was—with a massive pool of crystal-clear water covering every inch of the place, making it look like a massive lake or a pond, though considering I couldn’t see the how deep the water truly went, I suppose it was more of a lake than a pond. 

The rippling surface reflected the faint light filtering in through unseen cracks above. And standing in the middle of it all was a man in standard Kiri shinobi attire, his presence as calm as it was ominous.

He turned slightly as I entered, his face obscured by the shadow of his headband. The air was heavier here, the coppery scent stronger, something wasn’t right.

“Takeshi,” the man said, his voice smooth and steady. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

I stopped just short of the edge of the water, tilting my head slightly. He knew my name, which wasn’t ideal and most importantly, it wasn’t possible. All the contact was supposed to know is that someone was going to meet them here, nothing else, so that, and the smell of blood all but confirmed what my instincts were already telling me. 

This wasn’t my contact.

“Who are you?” I asked, looking at him.

The man didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood motionless, as if weighing his options—or perhaps deciding whether I was worth indulging.

I gestured faintly to the room. “And on that subject, just how long ago did you kill the person I was supposed to meet? The blood smells relatively fresh, but I can’t really tell.”

That got a reaction. The man let out a low chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly as he finally turned to face me fully.

“Not bad for a brat from the Leaf,” he said, his tone laced with mockery.

The air around him seemed to shift, a hazy effect rippling outward as his standard Kiri uniform faded like a mirage. In its place was something much more distinctive: a shirtless man with bandaged arms, a massive blade strapped to his back, and a shark-like smirk that could have cut steel.

“Momochi Zabuza,” he said, his voice dripping with menace.

The Demon of the Hidden Mist.

“I take it this isn’t a friendly visit,” I replied, keeping my eyes on him.

Zabuza’s grin widened, showing just a hint of teeth. “Depends on your definition of ‘friendly.’”

I took a step closer to the edge of the pool, stepping into the water careful to keep my movements measured. “If you’re here, then I assume the person I was supposed to meet didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“You assume correctly,” Zabuza said, his tone casual, as if we were discussing the weather. “He put up a decent fight, though. Gotta give him credit for that.”

I hummed thoughtfully, considering my next move. Zabuza wasn’t just a rogue shinobi—he was a rogue shinobi with a reputation for enjoying the thrill of the kill. And if our conversation thus far was anything to go by, he was here for me… instead of Jiraiya sensei.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to be here, considering you are a wanted criminal in Kiri,” I said. “So, I’m guessing this isn’t just about killing an informant, right?”

Zabuza’s smirk didn’t falter. “Sharp kid. Someone hired me to kill you.”

He took a step forward, the massive blade on his back shifting slightly as he moved. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the room as the ripples in the water spread out like the aftermath of a stone being dropped into still water.

So someone had hired him to kill me… I wonder who.

“So what happens now?” I asked.

Zabuza tilted his head, his smirk widening. “That depends on you. I can give you a painless death, or we could have some fun.”

I chuckled. “Fun it is.”

—---------------------------------------------------

[Zabuza POV]

[A few days ago.]

The sound of steel on steel echoed through the clearing, sharp and rhythmic as I trained Haku. His small hands gripped a kunai tightly, his movements precise as he blocked each of my strikes. The kid was fast, and a quick learner. I'd give him that, in just a few years the brat would be fast enough to keep up with me when I wasn’t trying too hard.

“Faster,” I growled, swinging my blade again. “You hesitate, and you’re dead.”

“Yes, Zabuza-sama,” Haku replied, his voice calm but determined. He didn’t flinch, didn’t complain. Just kept moving, his eyes locked on mine as he deflected another strike.

The kid was coming along nicely, though I’d be lying if I said I saw him as anything more than a tool. A good one, sure, but still a tool. And tools needed sharpening.

I raised my blade for another strike when something prickled at the edge of my senses. A presence—subtle but unmistakable.

I stopped mid-swing, turning sharply to face the intruder. A man stood a few feet away, dressed in a dark cloak and wearing a mask with a spiral pattern. His stance was relaxed, almost casual, but the fact that I hadn’t sensed him until he had been within striking distance set every alarm in my head blaring.

He could’ve killed me, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

Haku immediately stepped back, his kunai at the ready. I could feel the tension rolling off him like sweat, though his face betrayed nothing.

The masked man tilted his head slightly, as if examining us. “Impressive,” he said, his voice low and calm. “You have trained your ward well, Demon of the Mist.”

I shifted my grip on the hilt of my sword, raising it slightly. “Who the hell are you?”

“Not your enemy,” the man replied smoothly.

“That’s not an answer.”

The man chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his mask. “Fair enough. Let’s just say I’m someone who appreciates your… talents.”

I didn’t move, keeping my blade steady. “You’ve got five seconds to explain why you’re here before I carve you in half.”

Haku tensed beside me, his kunai still raised. The kid was sharp—he knew better than to make the first move, he also knew he would just get in the way if he tried to help me fight this man, but he was ready to jump in if needed.

The masked man raised his hands slightly, a gesture of mock surrender. “Relax. I’m not here to fight. Quite the opposite, actually.”

That still wasn’t an answer. “Then why are you here?”

“To offer you a job,” he said simply. “One that pays very well.”

“Not interested.”

“Are you sure?” His tone was almost amused. “Because this job comes with enough funds to fuel your little rebellion.”

That got my attention, though I didn’t let it show. I narrowed my eyes, studying him carefully. “When shit is too good to be true there’s usually a but… So what’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said. “Just a simple task. I want you to kill a shinobi from the Leaf who will be meeting with an informant in your former home a few days from now. That’s all.”

I didn’t trust him. People who made offers like this always had an angle, and this guy had already proven he wasn’t someone to take lightly. But the mention of funds was tempting. I’d been working toward liberating the Hidden Mist for years from the hands of Yagura for a long time, and resources were always in short supply ever since I failed my first attempt at killing that bastard.

“Why do you want this particular shinobi gone?” I asked.

“That’s not your concern,” he replied, his tone sharp. “All you need to know is that he needs to die, and you’re the best person for the job.”

I smirked, though my grip on my sword didn’t waver. “Flattery won’t get you far with me.”

“Good thing I’m offering more than flattery.”

Haku shifted slightly, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

I considered my options. On one hand, this guy reeked of trouble. I could tell when someone was strong, and this guy was strong… So why go through all the trouble of hiring me, if he could do the job himself? On the other hand, the promise of such a big amount of funding wasn’t something I could ignore. If this job really was as simple as he made it sound, no… even if it wasn’t as easy as he said, it might be worth the risk.

“You really think you can pay me enough to fund an entire rebellion?” I asked.

“I know I can,” he replied confidently. “Money is of no concern here.”

The sheer arrogance in his tone made me want to take his head off right then and there, but I held back. “I don’t like unknowns,” I said. “And you’re a big one.”

He chuckled again, low and unsettling. “That’s fair. But you’re a practical man, Zabuza Momochi. Practical men take opportunities when they see them.”

I didn’t respond right away, weighing my options. The job itself wasn’t complicated—kill one Leaf shinobi and be done with it. The risk came from dealing with someone like him.

Finally, I lowered my sword slightly, though I didn’t let my guard down. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll take the job. But if this turns out to be more trouble than it’s worth…”

“You’ll kill me?” the masked man finished for me, his tone amused.

I smirked again, though there was no humor in it. “You bet I will.”

“Understood,” he said, his head inclining slightly. “I’ll leave the details with you, then.”

Before I could respond, the man’s form shimmered into a spiral, warping space, disappearing as suddenly as he’d appeared, leaving behind a scroll with the information of my target.