Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 75

[Third Person - POV.]

Takeshi’s eyes narrowed as he closed them, focusing on the flicker of chakra he felt miles away. It was faint—barely there—but unmistakable. He stood still, his hands wrapped around the hilt of his Claymore. His heartbeat quickened, a cold sensation creeping through his chest as hate for the man, and anger at himself for not being able to do a thing, began to bubble.

That chakra… there was no mistaking it. It belonged to the man responsible for the Nine Tails attack.

He swallowed, gritting his teeth, watching as Mukai Kohinata, their mission leader, crouched nearby, scanning the crowd in the bustling marketplace, trying to see if he could find any agents working for this threat. His sensei, Mr. Yamato, stood next to Mukai, scanning the place as well.

All while the Daimyo remained hopelessly oblivious to the danger that loomed above him.

"He’s moving…" Takeshi said, looking at the mountains outside the trading hub. "They are still a few miles away from us… they keep moving in and out of my range. It feels almost as if they’re jumping between places, like it's teleporting or… summoning?"

"Teleporting… most likely," Mukai finished, his jaw tightening. "That would explain why our sensor can’t get a solid read on him. It matches reports from years ago."

Mr. Yamato turned his head toward Takeshi, his eyes narrowing. "Space-time ninjutsu… that, or a chakra-blocking seal to cover his tracks. Either way, the fact he’s moving indicates he knows we’re aware of him."

Takeshi nodded. That made sense. The only reason the man was moving towards them now was most likely connected to the fact that he had felt him. Which meant one of three things: One, they were as capable as him—or more—in the art of sensing. Two, they had someone watching them, someone communicating their every move. Or… three, all of the above. "This sensation… is just like before. So, whatever method they’re using, be it seals to hide their presence or something else, it’s the same method they used before."

A tense silence followed, and Takeshi felt the weight of their attention now locked onto him. Mr. Yamato’s expression darkened, and Mukai Kohinata shifted, his posture tightening. The busy noise of the commercial hub around them faded, becoming a distant hum.

"The only one to have ever fought this man was Lord Fourth, and he died before sharing his intel," Mr. Yamato spoke first, his voice low, barely audible over the market’s sounds. His eyes flicked toward Mukai, sharing a wordless understanding between them. "Not only that, but the fact he survived a fight with the Yellow Flash indicates we… are outgunned."

Itachi stepped forward. "Then we plan our approach carefully," he suggested. His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it that revealed how anxious he was. "We’re shinobi. We adapt."

"Can you feel his chakra, brat?" Mukai suddenly asked, turning his attention to Takeshi.

Takeshi nodded. "Yes. I can still feel his chakra. His signature keeps flickering in and out, like he’s moving fast between different points. But I can sense him. That being said… you have to know by now that I can’t track him for long. All I know is that he’s coming closer."

Mr. Yamato's face grew hard, his mind clearly turning over the possibilities. His students could sense the tension rising in their sensei—though Yamato remained composed outwardly, his chakra betrayed him, radiating a sharp spike of concern. And doubt. Doubt about his capability of protecting his team when facing a threat not even the Hokage himself was able to eliminate.

"We need to stay here," Shuri said, finally joining the conversation, glancing between Mukai and the rest of the group. Her voice was calm, but to someone keen enough, you could hear the fear in her voice. "If this man is the same one that fought the Fourth Hokage and survived, we stand no chance against him… we can’t outrun him, and we can’t risk the chance of direct confrontation… the commercial hub is our best bet. Too many witnesses. If we’re lucky, he’s more likely to stay in the shadows if we’re surrounded by civilians, giving us more time to plan."

Takeshi glanced up at his medic-nin, blinking in disbelief. "God… that’s a dumb idea. Hell, it might be the dumbest idea anyone has ever had. We might as well cut our throats and make his job of killing us easier… I mean, do you really think the same shinobi who unleashed the Nine Tails, destroying half of our village, cares whether or not there are witnesses?"

Before she could reply, Mukai cut in, his voice colder. "Damn right that’s a stupid idea. Staying here puts the Daimyo at greater risk." He rose to his full height, his dark eyes settling on Shuri. "You think the possibility of witnesses will deter him, but like the brat said, this is the man responsible for the Nine Tails attack. He isn’t exactly shy. Our best bet is to get the Daimyo behind Konoha’s walls. Now."

"Konoha is two days away at normal pace… we could probably cut that to a few hours if we go at full speed," Shisui interjected. "It would consume a lot of our chakra, but it’s not like we have any other options on the table."

Mr. Yamato glanced back at Mukai. "While I agree staying here is a dumb idea, running to Konoha isn’t exactly better… if he has a teleportation technique, he’ll catch us on the road. And if that happens, we’re back to square one."

"I am aware, but our odds are still better the closer we are to Konoha," Mukai countered, already turning to gather his things. "The closer we are to the village, the closer we are to our territory, meaning we could get some backup. Either way, we need to move now. Every second we stand here debating is another second closer to an ambush."

——————————————————————————————-

The road stretched ahead of them, dust kicking up beneath their feet as they moved. With each step they took, Takeshi could still feel it—that unmistakable pulsing chakra of their enemy, approaching. It wasn’t far now, closing in like a rope.

The man behind the Nine Tails attack would reach them soon enough.

The trees blurred past as the group darted through the forest, moving as fast as they could. Mukai led the charge, the Daimyo secured on his back, while Mr. Yamato ran beside him. Shisui and Itachi flanked Takeshi, their faces set in grim determination. They were all silent, their minds focused on one thing—reaching Konoha before that presence could catch them.

But the silence didn’t last.

A shadow flickered ahead, and suddenly, a man dropped into their path, landing with a light thud that echoed unnaturally through the woods. He stood tall, his face obscured by a strange, swirled mask, a single eye visible through its narrow hole.

Takeshi’s breath caught in his throat, and his heart sank. It’s him. ‘After all this time, I finally meet the man behind that night.’

‘Don’t let your emotions run out of control,’ Teresa said, her voice echoing in his mind.

Takeshi nodded at her words, feeling a sudden shift—as an unnatural stillness fell over the group. He turned his head, eyes widening as the Daimyo’s guardians who had come with them dropped to the ground without a word, their bodies slack, eyes unfocused.

‘Genjutsu.’ Takeshi realized, his sensing ability flaring to life as he felt the foreign chakra creeping toward him, his senses rejecting the invasive energy before it could take hold, making it slide off him like oil on water.

"Impressive," the masked man said, his voice calm and unhurried, as if they weren’t in the middle of a high-level assassination. "I see some of you were able to avoid my genjutsu. Truly remarkable." His visible eye gleamed with mild amusement. "But this doesn’t have to be difficult. I’m only here for the Daimyo. Step aside, and none of you have to die."

Takeshi remained silent, gripping the hilt of his Claymore tight, watching as Mukai and Mr. Yamato scoffed at the offer, both taking a single step forward, their faces filled with conviction.

"Not happening," Mukai replied, getting into a fighting position very similar to the one the Hyuga Clan is known for.

Mr. Yamato nodded. "If you want the Daimyo, you’ll have to go through us."

The masked man tilted his head, as though considering their words, before a snort escaped him. "You shinobi... always so eager to throw away your lives." There was no malice in his tone, only detached observation, like they were all insects beneath his gaze. "Very well then, I have a few seconds to spare."

Mukai didn’t waste a second. He turned to Shisui, hurling the Daimyo at him, his voice sharp and commanding. "Shisui, starting now, you are mission leader. You are to take the Daimyo back to Konoha at all costs!"

Shisui’s face hardened, but he nodded. Without hesitation, he grabbed the unconscious Daimyo, lifting the man onto his own shoulders with ease.

Mr. Yamato turned to his team—

his students, a measure of regret filling his face. "Go. We’ll hold him off and buy you time." His voice was firm, but there was an unmistakable urgency behind it. "The mission comes first. Don’t look back. And remember, I am proud of you kiddos."

Itachi nodded in silent agreement, his face unreadable, but there was a tension there—something deep and unspoken. He moved quickly, reaching for Shuri, the medic-nin, and with a precise weave of his fingers, released her from the genjutsu. Her body shuddered as she came to, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

"We have to move, now," Itachi said quietly.

Takeshi gritted his teeth, his pulse thrumming in his ears. Everything was happening so fast, and like before, he couldn’t do a thing. He shot a glance toward the masked man. His sensei… and Mukai. They couldn’t beat him. They were sacrificing their lives because they had no choice.

"Now go!" Mr. Yamato shouted, as Mukai and he launched forward, their movements blurring as they attacked the masked man in unison. But the masked man didn’t flinch. He remained perfectly still as their attacks passed clean through him.

A single thought echoed among all of those still awake. ‘What?’

Takeshi’s breath caught in his throat as time seemed to slow. ‘His… chakra disappeared completely just as their attacks phased through him.’ Before Takeshi could fully process what was happening, there was a sharp, sickening sound—the wet, unmistakable tear of flesh.

Mr. Yamato staggered, his eyes wide with shock as blood sprayed into the air, his hand gripping his side where the masked man had slashed him. The cut was deep. Far too deep.

"Sensei!" Takeshi’s voice broke, panic flooding his chest.

"Run…" Mr. Yamato muttered, giving his team one last look before he collapsed to the ground, his blood pooling around him as his blade fell from his hand. His breathing was ragged, uneven, his face pale as death.

Mukai barely managed to dodge the masked man’s counterattack, his body twisting at the last second. He skidded backward, his eyes wide with disbelief, as Yamato crumpled to the ground.

The masked man straightened, his cold, unfeeling gaze sweeping over the fallen sensei. "Are you certain you don’t want to take me up on my offer?"