No one expected Murata Yuko to speak up at that moment—least of all Naka Noboru. But even as the warning left her lips, he didn't stop. He didn't believe for a second that these two brawling civilians could possibly react in time.
In that split second, however, his eyes flashed with a murderous intent directed solely at Yuko. Once this was over, he decided he would kill her personally.
Squelch—!Thud!
The sounds of blades sinking into flesh and heavy impacts echoed through the booth. The grins on the ronins' faces froze; Naka himself stood rooted to the spot.
A sudden plume of smoke erupted where Tatsuma and Minato had been standing. As it cleared, the two grown men had vanished. In their place stood two small boys.
Naka's kunai had been aimed at the height of an adult's neck—meaning he had stabbed at nothing but empty air above their heads. In contrast, the real Tatsuma and Minato had reverted to their true forms and driven their own kunai deep into Naka's ribcage.
The blades bit deep, surely puncturing his lungs. A lung wound of that severity would cripple even the most resilient shinobi, and Naka was merely a mediocre Chunin who hadn't even stood out in a minor village like Takigakure.
Tatsuma and Minato didn't give him a chance to recover. In perfect synchronization, they hooked their arms behind his and delivered a sharp kick to the back of his knees. Naka buckled, crashing to his floor. Before he could draw another breath, they whipped out specialized ninja wire and bound him tight.
They used the complex binding techniques taught at the Academy—knots specifically designed to neutralize the Escaping Technique. The entire reversal happened so fast that the ronin were still processing the sight of their "invincible" boss being hog-tied by a pair of children.
In the blink of an eye, the man who was supposed to execute two unruly drunks had been dismantled.
The ronin weren't the only ones surprised; Minato felt a jolt of shock himself. He hadn't expected a Chunin—a rank that commanded respect—to fall so easily to a couple of fresh Genin.
Tatsuma, however, harbored a much clearer understanding of their own strength. He wasn't surprised at all. Most shinobi lacked the ability to overcome a total "information deficit." Even a Kage could be assassinated if the enemy held all the cards and the element of surprise. Naka was a middle-tier ninja who had grown soft and complacent, lording his power over defenseless civilians. He had forgotten the first rule of the shinobi: never stop being a predator, because something is always hunting you.
For the vast majority of ninjas, a single well-placed kunai is all it takes to end the story. Tatsuma and Minato had used two.
"Minato, you want to handle this, or should I?"
Having secured Naka, Tatsuma relaxed his posture and offered a small smile. Minato shook off his surprise, his gaze sweeping over the remaining thugs.
"I'll do it," Minato said.
"Don't make me laugh! You're just kids!" one ronin screamed, his mind snapping as the reality of the situation set in.
His shout was cut short by a spinning shuriken that tore through his throat.
As the man collapsed, Minato vanished. He moved with the same Body Flicker Technique Naka had used moments before, but with a fluidity and speed that made the rogue's attempt look like a crawl.
In the span of a dozen heartbeats, the ronin began to fall one by one. Those who had been directly involved in Raku's murder were met with lethal strikes. The rest were knocked unconscious, but Minato ensured they would never plague this village again by systematically severing their tendons and ligaments. He didn't just win; he dismantled their ability to ever hold a sword again.
Soon, the only ronin left breathing and whole was Yusuke, who was still unconscious near Yuko. Minato flickered to his side, his kunai raised for a final, decisive strike.
"Minato!"
Tatsuma's voice rang out, stopping the blade inches from Yusuke's chest. Tatsuma looked at Murata Yuko. "Do you want to do this yourself, or should we handle it?"
Yuko stared at the carnage around her, her mind blank for a long while before she finally registered the question. Her hand moved instinctively to her robes, clutching the crude iron blade. She looked at the man who had laughed while her brother died. Her breathing grew shallow and ragged, but she forced a deep, trembling breath.
"Please..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "Let me do it."
Yuko pulled out the sharpened strip of iron with trembling hands and unwrapped the scraps of cloth. She gripped the makeshift hilt with both hands, the tip of the blade hovering over Yusuke's heart. She hesitated, the weight of the act paralyzing her.
Minato frowned, looking as if he wanted to step in and end it for her, but Tatsuma held up a hand to stop him.
"Your brother wouldn't want to see you become a killer," Tatsuma said softly to Yuko. "If it's too much, let us take the burden."
At the mention of Raku, the indecision in Yuko's eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp resolve. She drove the blade down into Yusuke's chest. Her hands slipped on the blood-slicked iron, the edge slicing into her own palms, but she didn't seem to feel it. She watched Yusuke's final, violent spasms with a mixture of agonizing tears and a hollow, haunting smile.
Tatsuma and Minato shared a silent look. They didn't disturb her. Instead, they moved through the room, dragging the surviving ronin into a pile and securing them with wire.
As they prepared to leave, Yuko's crying finally subsided. "Please... wait," she said. "I... I want to pour you a drink."
She reached out to steady herself against a table, only then noticing that her hands were drenched in a mixture of her own blood and Yusuke's. She looked down at herself, flustered. "I... I'll go wash my hands. Just wait for me, okay?"
Minato shook his head gently. "I'm sorry, but... we don't drink."
Tatsuma remained silent, offering a nod of agreement. A look of profound disappointment crossed Yuko's face. Just then, a voice echoed through the now-silent club.
"You two fools. You should never refuse a girl's gratitude."
Yuko jumped, her nerves still frayed, but the tension eased as Jiraiya stepped out of the shadows.
"This is our Jonin instructor," Tatsuma explained to the startled girl. "By the way... we are ninjas from Konohagakure."
"Thank you," Yuko whispered. She didn't know what else to say. She stood up with effort and headed toward the back to clean herself up.
Jiraiya walked over to the two boys and ruffled their hair. "Not bad at all. It seems your talents extend far beyond the classroom."
Minato offered a bashful smile, but with the blood splattered across his face and hands, the expression looked disturbingly out of place.
Jiraiya turned his gaze to Tatsuma. "But tell me... Tatsuma, are you truly that resistant to killing?"
Jiraiya had been watching their progress for days and had noticed Tatsuma's reluctance to take a life personally. Tatsuma didn't deny it.
"Killing is never the correct thing to do," Tatsuma replied firmly. "I might end up with the blood of thousands on my hands before I'm through, but I will never believe it's something to be proud of or commended for."
Jiraiya let out a slow, thoughtful breath. He looked at Minato. "And you, Minato? Do you understand what he's saying?"
Minato nodded solemnly. "I do. I will hold myself to a stricter standard from now on."
"Good. You didn't do anything wrong tonight, though. Men like these have no place in this world; putting them down was a necessity of the mission."
Jiraiya patted their shoulders and looked toward Yuko as she emerged from the washroom. He pulled out a room key and handed it to the boys.
"If you won't take a drink, take a rest. I've already booked a room at the inn across the street. You've earned some time to relax. I'll keep an eye on these losers until the local authorities arrive."
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