"My lord… we've arrived."
A week later, outside the gate of the Hidden Hot Water Village, Sparrowhawk—Senju Kenichi spoke in a low voice to Senju Hikaru.
Hikaru's four Senju ANBU were:
Sparrowhawk — Senju Kenichi
Redhawk — Senju Kaisho
Harrierhawk — Senju Keita
Snowhawk — Senju Yo
This operation included only the four of them.
It wasn't that Hikaru fully trusted them. It was simply that, aside from these four, there weren't many people in the Third Division he could truly rely on.
Still, however Hikaru treated them, they were Senju—his own clan. And Snowhawk, Senju Yo, had already… essentially shifted to Hikaru's side.
Yo used to belong to Senju Ryota's faction. His situation was similar to Senju Renge's—someone whose family had been used as leverage.
After Hikaru forced Ryota down, Yo was "freed," at least in a practical sense.
He had never openly thanked Hikaru, but his stance spoke for itself.
And Hikaru had never been the type to care about words.
He watched actions.
People could talk beautifully and still hide poison in their bones—he'd seen too many of those.
The most typical example… was himself.
How could he casually believe anyone else's "sincerity"?
"Let's go."
Hikaru scanned the area around the village, then shook his head slightly.
"This place barely has any defenses. No wonder they asked for help."
"And I'm guessing they didn't just ask Konoha—Kumo probably received the same request."
"So don't waste time. Go straight to their leader."
"Yes, my lord."
The four nodded immediately, then followed Hikaru as they slipped into the village with practiced stealth.
Inside, the atmosphere was peaceful—almost too peaceful.
People moved about casually. Shops were open. Faces were relaxed.
You would never guess this place had ever been touched by war.
The village's signature industry was everywhere: hot spring inns lined the streets like an entire district built for bathing.
Even Hikaru felt a flicker of temptation.
He had never soaked in a hot spring.
His time was limited, and he was still too young to visit anything beyond "normal" establishments.
But if you were going to enjoy yourself, why not learn from Jiraiya?
A regular bathhouse was boring.
A certain kind of adult bathhouse, on the other hand… might actually be worth it.
He shook his head, cutting the thought off.
Focus.
They moved fast. In a little over ten minutes, they reached the residence of the village's "chief."
Hidden Hot Water Village had a strange system compared to major shinobi villages:
Their leader wasn't the strongest ninja.
He was a "respected civilian."
It traced back to the village's origin. The founders were, apparently, an ordinary couple.
By chance, they acquired part of a strange scroll—an incomplete transcription.
After decades of research, they developed an unusual technique, built the village's shinobi framework around it, and trained generations of Hot Water ninja.
After they died, the system continued—especially one rule:
Civilians governed the village, not elite fighters.
There were pros and cons.
Civilians understood what civilians needed.
But civilians also tended to underestimate how brutal the shinobi world really was.
They made decisions that only made sense in a peaceful dream.
Like now—this village was wealthy, yet it chose to weaken its own shinobi force.
That was practically outsourcing its national defense to bigger villages.
Maybe that was how small villages survived.
But from Hikaru's perspective… it was stupidity.
Still, it wasn't his job to judge their politics.
He had his mission.
And he noticed something else.
As they approached, he could feel eyes on them.
Someone had been watching.
"Cloud… or the cult?"
Hikaru extended his sensory field instantly.
He caught four chakra signatures—clean, disciplined, and not weak.
But the moment they confirmed something, they withdrew.
No confrontation. No contact.
They simply vanished.
"That's strange."
Hikaru frowned.
They weren't weak—yet they retreated the moment they sensed his group.
Did they judge strength purely by chakra alone? If so… that's a serious flaw.
But since he'd already spotted them, he wasn't about to let them slip away for free.
On the road here, he had already created a shadow clone.
That clone quietly pursued the four figures—and carried Hikaru's mark.
If anything happened—if the clone was attacked—Hikaru would know immediately.
And then he'd have a chance to "talk."
"Snowhawk. Knock."
Hikaru's voice turned gentle as he spoke to Senju Yo, returning to business.
"Yes, my lord."
Yo stepped forward.
Even as outsiders—even as Konoha ANBU—there were still rules to follow.
They could level this village if they wanted, sure.
But in the shinobi world, it wasn't all killing.
A lot of it was etiquette.
And appearances.
…
"Are you sure?"
In a hidden corner of the village, four figures huddled together, whispering. Their voices trembled.
They weren't imagining it.
They were terrified.
Hikaru's intel had been correct.
These four were Kumogakure ANBU.
The Hidden Hot Water Village hadn't only requested help from Konoha—it had also asked the Cloud.
Their mission: investigate the mysterious "evil sect."
And there was a second objective:
Use this crisis to pull the village closer to Kumogakure.
Kumo had a reputation for brute force, but they weren't idiots.
They understood something simple:
Force could prove strength—
but it couldn't secure everything.
Sometimes you needed soft power.
Sometimes you needed leverage.
The Cloud had withdrawn early in the Third Great Ninja War, preserving massive combat strength.
Now the Fourth Raikage was consolidating authority—yet conflict never truly stopped.
And he carried ambition: to seize the title of "Number One" in the shinobi world.
That title wasn't just vanity.
It meant mission share.
It meant money.
A shinobi village's economy came from three streams:
Its own internal economy (trade, farming, local business).
The daimyo's funding (the biggest share—daimyo were truly rich).
Ninja contract revenue (huge, and with enormous potential).
If a single major village could dominate even half the contract market across the shinobi world, the revenue could surpass daimyo funds.
But to do that, you needed the crown.
And that crown—despite Konoha's weakness—still belonged to Konoha in most people's eyes.
The Raikage understood that taking it would eventually require a clash with Konoha.
But not now.
Not yet.
So he expanded influence where he could—like the Land of Hot Water.
And he sent elite ANBU: people he trusted, people with strength, people confident enough to move in the dark.
They had assumed this would be easy.
It was a small village.
They would resolve the cult matter, then press the village gently toward Kumo.
Even if Konoha also arrived, that was normal.
The village wouldn't ask only one great power.
No problem.
But the moment they realized who had arrived…
Their confidence collapsed.
"If there's no mistake…"
"That guy…"
"That guy is Konoha's Nightingale."
"Damn it. Why is he here?!"
"He's already a division captain—why would he personally take a mission like this?!"
They felt their scalps go cold.
Konoha's Nightingale.
Ordinary shinobi might not recognize the name.
But ANBU did.
Every village with an ANBU structure knew it.
The man was infamous—almost mythologized.
A butcher who had allegedly slaughtered over a hundred shinobi alone.
A monster who had wiped out nearly half of Suna's ANBU.
And according to rumor, he had even erased an entire Suna sealing unit on the way out.
Sealing units weren't famous for combat, but their strategic value was enormous.
They were usually heavily protected.
If Nightingale could destroy one while escaping…
That wasn't just skill.
That was terror.
No one could confirm every detail.
But Suna's barrier systems had shown instability recently—
and that alone made the rumors feel… uncomfortably real.
That was why "Nightingale" had become a red-mark entry in every major village's ANBU registry.
Masks were consistent. Codes were consistent.
If you wore a certain mask long enough, the name stuck—often until death.
That was how other villages identified threats.
And Nightingale's entry carried a rare clause:
"If encountered during a mission, and the mission is not critical enough to justify total loss, withdrawal is permitted and will not be treated as mission failure."
That was almost unheard of.
ANBU missions were the kind you didn't retreat from.
If his name granted permission to run—
then his threat level surpassed even standard S-rank assumptions.
In many ways, it was worse than encountering Minato.
Because against Minato, you might negotiate distance.
Against Nightingale…
you might not survive contact.
"So what do we do?" one of them asked, voice tight.
The leader exhaled slowly.
"Watch. Avoid conflict."
"This mission wasn't to clash with Konoha."
"So we just… hide?"
"…Yes."
They swallowed the humiliation and the fear.
They had no better option.
What they didn't know—
was that above them, on a shadowed rooftop beam, Senju Hikaru stood silently, looking down at them with calm eyes.
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