…
The convoy departed Takemura Hamlet shortly after sunrise.
Morning dew still clung to the ground as the three wagons rolled back onto the road and the settlement gradually disappeared behind them.
Soon, only the forest remained, towering trees stretching endlessly in every direction, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the sunlight into shifting patches across the road.
The atmosphere was quiet.
Not silent, but quiet.
Birds carried on with their day calling intermittently from the treetops while insects went about their business humming as they went and finally, the leaves rustled whenever the wind stirred.
The sounds of nature accompanied the steady creaking of wagon wheels.
For several hours, nothing noteworthy happened as the convoy advanced at a consistent pace.
Sakumo's team moved ahead scouting their route every now and then, the Jonin leader's team and Murakami's flanked security maintaining their position while the civilian drivers drove their wagons.
Everything proceeded exactly as it should.
Which was why Murakami found himself becoming increasingly suspicious.
Not because anything was wrong, but because nothing was.
He understood that such a mission was already high profile considering the times, so even if there wasn't an ambush awaiting them, he wasn't about to let down his guard.
He was a reincarnator, and in situations like this, it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Especially when one knew exactly what these wagons contained.
Medical supplies, communication equipment and weapons components.
Enough material to support a considerable number of shinobi at the frontline.
Convoys carrying such cargo rarely traveled unnoticed.
Murakami's gaze drifted toward the forest, his senses expanding briefly.
Nothing, no hidden chakra signatures or obvious threats, only trees.
However, that didn't exclude the possibility of hidden threats. His perception was not almighty afterall.
Hence, he remained vigilant.
His otaku experience had already taught him that the most dangerous enemies were often the ones you failed to notice.
Ahead, the scarred Jonin continued leading the convoy.
Neither his pace nor posture varied or relaxed. His eyes continuously scanned their surroundings as they moved.
Murakami had observed him long enough now to know he wasn't a sensor and to identify a pattern.
The man trusted his senses, not assumptions or luck.
Every few minutes he checked the formation.
Every hour he rotated scouts.
Every stop was inspected before anyone approached it.
Competent.
That was Murakami's evaluation of the man.
The assessment hadn't changed since yesterday.
Around midmorning, the road began descending gradually as the terrain shifted.
Trees thinned slightly as rocky outcroppings became more common.
According to the route map Sora had borrowed the previous evening, they were approaching Kurogawa Crossing.
One of the larger transit points in the region.
It was not a settlement… Not exactly. More a collection of infrastructure built around the necessity of the location.
A river crossed the route here.
A wide one.
So trade routes inevitably formed around them.
Which meant everyone used Kurogawa.
Be they merchants, travelers, messengers, shinobi and sometimes… spies.
Occasionally worse.
By noon, the river became visible.
The Kurogawa River cut across the landscape like a silver ribbon, its waters moving steadily between the steep banks with a broad wooden bridge stretched across it.
One look at it and one can tell it was well reinforced and maintained, a sign that it was clearly important.
Several civilian carts were already crossing when the convoy arrived.
The process was uneventful with the wagons crossing one at a time.
The bridge groaned beneath the combined weight but held without issue.
Murakami found himself observing the structure more than the crossing itself.
The bridge represented a choke point as any attack launched here would be devastating.
There was limited maneuverability, restricted movement and little to no escape routes.
An ideal ambush location.
Yet nobody attacked as the convoy crossed safely.
The moment they reached the opposite bank, however, one of the vanguard scouts raised a hand and formed a sign.
The signal traveled backward immediately.
*Slow*
And the convoy slowed.
Murakami's eyes narrowed at this development. He was knowledgeable enough to know that something had been found.
The scarred Jonin moved forward to meet the scout and a brief discussion occurred.
Then he disappeared into the forest accompanied by two scouts.
The convoy remained where it was, waiting as several minutes passed.
Hideki eventually drifted closer.
"What happened?"
Murakami gave him a look.
"No idea."
Hideki snorted. "For once, you're not helpful."
Murakami didn't answer. He wasn't about to entertain Hideki's lack of common sense.
Speculation without information was pointless. He knew that for a fact, so he didn't bother speculating.
Eventually, the Jonin returned.
His expression revealed nothing as he signalled.
"Move."
The order came immediately and the convoy resumed traveling.
No explanation followed the delay, and Hideki looked deeply offended by this.
Murakami found it mildly reassuring. The less information distributed unnecessarily, the better.
Still, he felt something had imperceptibly changed.
The difference was subtle and easy to miss, but as a sensor, Murakami didn't miss it.
The scouting distance had increased rather noticeably and the vanguard now operated further ahead than before.
No announcement accompanied these changes.
They simply happened.
Murakami found this interesting as he kept his guard up.
…
Hours passed and the road continued westward.
Conversation gradually returned among the civilians as the wagons rolled onward.
The rocky terrain gradually disappeared as the forest deepened once again.
Then another anomaly appeared, this one impossible to ignore.
It was a checkpoint, or rather, what should have been a checkpoint.
The road widened slightly before reaching what looked like a wooden inspection station.
It was a simple structure with a covered shelter, storage shed and water trough.
Merchants traveling this route often stopped here normally, but today it stood empty.
Completely empty.
There were no attendants or travelers.
No horses or carts.
Nothing.
The convoy halted.
This time everyone noticed.
Even Hideki.
"...That's weird."
Nobody disagreed.
The scarred Jonin dismounted from a nearby wagon and approached the station personally.
The vanguard team spread out immediately, their Jonin leader taking point.
Murakami observed the station carefully.
There were no signs of battle. No sign of blood or damage.
Nothing broken.
The place looked intact but recently abandoned.
A wooden cup still rested on one of the tables beneath the shelter.
Murakami's eyes lingered on it for a moment.
Dust hadn't settled inside, which meant it hadn't been sitting there long.
The Jonin crouched briefly beside the structure.
Examined something for a few brief seconds, then stood and signalled for the convoy to continue.
Again, no explanation.
Yet the atmosphere had changed.
Conversations became quieter and laughter disappeared.
Perhaps they didn't know why, but people were remarkably good at sensing tension even when they couldn't identify its source.
Be they normal civilians, trained civilians or even Shinobi.
By late afternoon, clouds had begun gathering overhead.
Not storm clouds, just enough to dim the sunlight making the forest seem darker as a result.
It became more enclosed and oppressive.
Murakami found himself increasingly aware of the space beyond the road.
Every shadow, movement or sound drew his attention in one way of the other.
At some point, he noticed someone moving parallel to him and turned his gaze.
Sakumo.
The white-haired boy walked along the roadside without speaking.
Several moments passed.
Then, "The scouts moved further out."
Murakami glanced at him, unsure of what he meant or how he was to respond to that statement.
It most definitely was not a question, so he nodded. "Yes."
"Because of the river?"
Murakami considered it. That shouldn't be the only reason though, so he shrugged. "Partly."
Sakumo waited, and Murakami continued. "The checkpoint too."
Understanding flickered across Sakumo's face.
"You think they're worried about the route ahead."
"I think they're experiencing some uncertainties."
The conversation ended there as neither felt the need to continue.
The observations themselves were sufficient.
Both had noticed and had reached similar conclusions.
The mission was changing.
Neither knew exactly how, only that it was.
The convoy pressed onward as the sun continued its descent causing shadows to stretch longer.
The scarred Jonin consulted the route map twice within a single hour.
Something Murakami had not seen him do previously.
That was another sign.
Eventually one of the vanguard scouts appeared.
He was fast, too fast even that Murakami had to narrow his eyes as he emerged from the forest at a sprint.
Not panicking but definitely urgent.
Every shinobi noticed immediately as the scout landed beside the scarred Jonin and said some things to him quietly.
Murakami watched all this calmly until the Jonin's expression hardened.
Not dramatically, but it was there, leading Murakami to know that something was about to go down.
The conversation continued and lasted for less than twenty seconds.
Then the Jonin nodded to which the scout reciprocated then vanished again.
The Jonin remained silent for a while, considering the information he had just received.
The convoy continued moving for several more minutes before he finally raised his hand.
The entire column stopped as silence spread gradually.
Even the civilians recognized something was different now.
The scarred Jonin turned toward the assembled escorts and Shinobi.
(A/N: Escorts are the people originally tasked with making the delivery. The Shinobi on the Escort mission are there for added protection. Take note of that.)
His gaze swept across them calmly which somehow made it worse.
"We're adjusting the schedule." Nobody spoke, so the Jonin continued. "We will not be stopping tonight."
Several heads lifted in shock.
The civilians exchanged uncertain glances, but the Jonin ignored all of it.
"We continue through the night."
That got everyone's attention as that was against the doctrine surrounding Escort missions.
Escort doctrine existed for a reason.
Traveling after dark increased risk due to accumulated fatigue and decreased visibility.
Every shinobi present understood that.
Which meant the implication was obvious; whatever risk waited ahead… the Jonin considered it preferable to traveling tomorrow.
Nobody asked questions, they didn't need to. The mission leader had spoken and that would be how they would proceed.
Murakami's eyes drifted toward the darkening forest as the pieces finally aligned.
Something was out there.
Not confirmed or identified, but enough for an experienced Jonin to abandon standard procedure.
And Murakami found that deeply uncomforting.
The Jonin gave a signal and the convoy began moving again.
Westward, toward Kanzashi Supply Village.
Toward whatever had convinced a veteran shinobi that traveling through the night was the safer option.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
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