Reiji remained perfectly still.
Not because he chose to.
His thoughts still moved—fast, sharp, snapping violently from one conclusion to the next—but none of it reached his body. There was no tension gathering in his muscles, no instinctive shift of balance beneath his feet, no breath expanding his chest. The connection between thought and motion had simply… stopped. Cleanly. Completely. As if someone had reached inside him and severed the invisible threads linking mind and flesh.
The sensation—or rather, the absence of sensation—settled over him slowly enough to become horrifying.
When he tried to move, nothing happened.
When he tried to speak, there was no voice.
Even the reflex to breathe met only emptiness. A cold, blank void where physical existence should have been.
A moment ago, he had been standing inside the classroom, thinking, analyzing, preparing to act.
Now—
He was trapped inside something hollow.
A consciousness without a body.
Ahead of him, only a few steps away, his own body still stood upright near the classroom door. It moved naturally, shoulders loose, posture balanced with the casual confidence Reiji himself carried without thinking. Even the breathing looked correct—slow and steady beneath the rise of his chest.
Then it spoke.
Reiji's focus sharpened instantly.
Shock disappeared beneath colder instinct as his thoughts reorganized themselves with brutal efficiency. Panic would accomplish nothing. Observation mattered more. Every detail. Every inconsistency.
What kind of technique is this?
Genjutsu came first to mind. The obvious answer.
But the longer he examined his surroundings, the less it fit. Genjutsu distorted perception, manipulated senses, layered illusion over reality. This felt different.
The absence of sensation was too complete.
Then his awareness shifted slightly, catching another detail at the edge of his perception.
The body he inhabited now—the empty shell imprisoning him—had a kunai buried in it.
Reiji focused immediately.
Memory surfaced sharply. He remembered the exact motion of his wrist when he released it.
Does attacking that… anchor the technique somehow?
The thought lingered unfinished. There wasn't enough information yet. Too many unknowns.
"I know this must feel disorienting."
The voice came from his own body.
"But don't worry," the impostor continued lightly, flexing Reiji's fingers experimentally as if testing the body. "It won't last very long. Maintaining this from a distance is… somewhat taxing."
Who are you?
The question formed instantly inside Reiji's thoughts.
Then—
A knock interrupted the silence.
"Sensei? It's me—Kushina?"
Reiji's thoughts halted.
The impostor smiled immediately.
"Just a second," he replied casually, turning toward the classroom entrance with smooth, familiar movements that made something cold tighten inside Reiji's awareness.
The door slid open softly.
Kushina stood framed by the hallway light outside, her posture leaning slightly forward with visible uncertainty. Her eyes swept across the room cautiously before narrowing faintly as they settled on him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked slowly. "I thought you got expelled."
The impostor raised an eyebrow with practiced ease.
"Why? Expelled students can't visit classrooms anymore?"
"That's not what I meant."
Her hesitation was immediate.
Small.
Barely visible.
But Reiji caught it instantly.
Something felt off to her.
The impostor noticed too.
"Relax," he said with a faint smirk. "I'll be gone soon enough. You won't have to deal with me much longer."
Silence stretched briefly between them.
Reiji forced himself to move again.
Nothing.
Kushina, don't—
The warning never reached her.
She stepped inside anyway.
The classroom air shifted slightly with her movement, carrying the faint smell of dust and paper disturbed from the hallway outside. Her sandals brushed softly against the wooden floorboards as she glanced toward the front desk.
"So… this is weird," the impostor continued casually, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture so perfectly accurate it made revulsion crawl through Reiji's thoughts. "When I came in, sensei was already asleep."
Kushina frowned immediately.
"What?"
"Looks like she passed out at the desk."
She walked further inside.
Step by step.
Reiji tracked every movement automatically now, his thoughts narrowing harder as he searched desperately for something useful. A weakness. A mistake. Anything.
"Huh…" Kushina muttered quietly after getting closer to the desk. "She really is…"
Then she glanced back over her shoulder.
"Why didn't you wake her up?"
"And get yelled at?" the impostor replied immediately. "No thanks. You do it. It's not like she'd expel you for it."
The smile never fully left his face.
Kushina's eyes narrowed slightly again.
Suspicion.
Not enough.
She turned away anyway and approached the desk fully, stopping beside Fūma-sensei's slumped figure. One hand lifted slowly toward the teacher's shoulder.
The classroom door slid shut behind her with a soft click.
She never noticed.
She was already within reach.
"Sensei? Wake u—"
One moment the impostor stood near the entrance.
The next he was behind her.
His body shifted with frightening precision, weight transferring cleanly through his hips and shoulders as his hand drove sharply into the side of Kushina's neck.
The strike landed perfectly.
Kushina's body collapsed instantly, consciousness shutting off before she even hit the floor. The impostor caught her smoothly around the waist before impact, lowering her weight carefully enough that not even a chair scraped against the wood.
Her body went limp in his arms before he stuffed her in a large bag he picked up behind a desk.
Reiji watched everything happen in absolute silence.
Unable to move.
Unable to stop it.
"Ah," the impostor murmured softly. "Almost forgot something."
The impostor turned back toward the classroom without hurry, the movement casual enough that for a brief second it looked like he had simply remembered something insignificant.
Then his hand slipped into Reiji's pouch.
His fingers closed around a kunai before drawing it free in one smooth motion.
The movement carried none of the hesitation of someone handling another person's equipment. His grip settled naturally against the wrapped handle, balanced immediately in his hand like he had used Reiji's body for years instead of minutes.
Something cold twisted through Reiji's thoughts.
Wrong.
The sensation came instinctively, sharp enough to cut through the numb emptiness imprisoning him. A deep rejection that had nothing to do with logic. Watching someone else move his body was already unbearable.
Watching them wield a weapon with it felt worse.
The impostor didn't acknowledge him. He simply turned and began walking toward the teacher's desk.
Toward Fūma-sensei.
Her body still slumped lifelessly over the desk exactly where Kushina had left her, one arm hanging loosely at the side while strands of dark hair partially obscured her face.
The classroom had gone unnaturally quiet now.
Not ordinary silence.
The oppressive kind that made every small sound stand out too clearly—the faint creak of shifting wood beneath footsteps, cloth moving softly with motion, the almost imperceptible scrape of metal against fabric as the kunai turned slightly in his hand.
The impostor moved carefully behind her.
Reiji watched the line of his arm.
Something tightened violently inside Reiji's thoughts.
Don't—
The kunai came down in one clean motion.
The blade punched through the back of Fūma-sensei's skull with a dull, wet sound that echoed far louder inside the silent classroom than it should have. The force carried through cleanly without resistance, driving her body forward violently against the desk. Wood scraped sharply beneath the impact before settling again with a low creak.
Then everything became still.
For one heartbeat.
Two.
Dark blood slowly welled around the embedded kunai before spilling outward through strands of her hair. Thick red lines traced unevenly down the side of her neck, gathering briefly at the edge of the desk before dripping heavily onto the wooden floor below.
Each drop sounded distinct.
Measured.
Almost rhythmic.
The impostor simply watched for another second to confirm the kill.
Then he relaxed slightly.
"Good body," he said conversationally, as though commenting on borrowed equipment rather than murder. "But I think it's time to say goodbye."
He didn't even retrieve the weapon.
He turned away immediately afterward, abandoning the corpse without another glance before walking back toward Reiji.
Toward the empty shell imprisoning him.
The distance closed in a few quiet steps.
Then fingers closed around his body's collar.
There was no resistance.
No sensation.
Reiji watched his own body lifted effortlessly like dead weight before being shoved carelessly into the bag beside Kushina.
Darkness swallowed him immediately.
Not darkness like closed eyes.
Not the darkness of an unlit room.
Something deeper.
Absolute.
A void without texture or shape.
He couldn't feel the fabric pressing against him. Couldn't feel Kushina beside him despite knowing she was there. No weight. No air. No pressure against skin that no longer seemed to exist.
But he could still hear.
The classroom door slid open.
Then shut again behind them with a soft click.
Footsteps carried them forward at a steady pace, controlled and unhurried. Reiji focused immediately, forcing his thoughts into structure before panic could fully take root again.
Voices drifted in and out around them as they moved through the academy.
Students laughing.
Complaining.
Talking about teams and instructors and lunch plans with the careless ease of people completely unaware a corpse sat cooling inside the classroom behind them.
Sandals scraped against wooden hallways nearby.
Close.
Far too close.
Someone should have noticed.
No one did.
The impostor never slowed.
Never hesitated.
Whoever he was, he moved through the academy with absolute confidence.
Where is he going?
The question surfaced immediately.
Reiji forced himself to think carefully instead of spiraling uselessly through possibilities. The impostor had prepared this. That much was obvious now.
He had known Reiji would return after the Hokage's judgment.
He had waited.
And the instant an opportunity appeared, he acted without hesitation.
But the more Reiji replayed the scene, the colder the realization became.
Possession.
The answer had already been placed directly in front of him.
If the impostor could take Reiji's body…
Then he could take others too.
Understanding settled sharply into place.
Fūma-sensei.
He had been her.
Standing beside him in class.
Speaking to him.
Watching him.
Reiji replayed every recent interaction rapidly through memory, dissecting details with growing intensity. There should have been inconsistencies somewhere. Delays. Strange reactions. Something slightly wrong beneath the surface.
There had been nothing.
And Kushina hadn't been random either.
She had been expected.
So was I.
The conclusion formed whether he wanted it to or not.
Reiji forced himself to slow down before his thoughts scattered further.
Speculation without evidence would get him nowhere.
So instead he focused only on what he knew.
And then—
The sounds around them changed.
The enclosed stillness of the academy gradually disappeared around them.
Even trapped within absolute darkness, Reiji noticed the change immediately. The muffled echoes of hallways and distant classroom chatter faded behind them, replaced by open air and moving wind. Leaves rustled somewhere overhead now, their sound carried freely instead of bouncing between walls, while the footsteps beneath him shifted subtly in rhythm and weight.
Lighter.
Faster.
Outside.
We've left the academy.
Reiji focused harder, forcing every fragment of information into place while the impostor continued moving without interruption. His thoughts no longer scattered as violently as before. The initial shock had burned away, leaving behind colder, sharper concentration.
Who could actually do this?
Not just infiltrate Konoha—that alone was already absurd—but move through it naturally. Freely. Confidently enough to carry unconscious children through the village in broad daylight without drawing suspicion.
And that technique…
Everything kept returning to that.
Possession.
The realization assembled itself piece by piece beneath careful analysis, each conclusion fitting together too cleanly to ignore.
Maybe no infiltration had happened at all.
Maybe the bastard already belonged here.
A Konoha shinobi.
Something twisted violently through Reiji's thoughts at the idea, cold anger tightening harder the longer he considered it. A face surfaced almost immediately afterward—the Yamanaka he had encountered before during the incident surrounding his father.
The possibility fit disturbingly well.
Mental techniques.
Control.
Observation.
But Reiji forcibly stopped himself before the theory could settle completely into certainty.
No.
The timing was wrong.
He replayed events carefully again, testing each assumption against what he actually knew rather than what he wanted to believe. Had Fūma-sensei already been compromised before the incident involving Soichiro and him in the restaurant the day before?
Or afterward?
The timeline barely worked either way.
Too fast.
Unless…
Kushina had always been the primary target.
And Reiji himself had simply become an unexpected complication added afterward.
The thought lingered briefly before he cut it off sharply.
Enough.
Speculation without evidence would accomplish nothing except exhausting him mentally, and right now he couldn't afford that. Not trapped like this. Not powerless.
So instead, he focused on the few things he knew for certain.
He was still alive.
That mattered.
The impostor had opportunities to kill him already. Instead, he had kept him. Transported him. Hidden him alongside Kushina rather than disposing of him immediately.
Which meant Reiji still had value somehow.
Maybe as cover. Using the body of a child to move through the village unnoticed. Maybe the technique itself required him alive.
Or maybe something else entirely.
Either way, the conclusion remained the same.
He hadn't been discarded.
Not yet.
And that meant there would eventually be an opening.
The technique wasn't permanent. The impostor himself had admitted as much back inside the classroom. Maintaining it over distance was taxing.
Which meant somewhere out there—
His real body existed.
Hidden.
Protected.
Vulnerable.
And eventually the technique would weaken.
Break.
End.
The instant the thought formed, Reiji seized onto it completely, holding it tightly until it hardened into something cold and razor sharp inside his mind.
That's my chance.
The movement around him changed again suddenly.
Wind struck harder now, sharper against exposed surfaces, while the rhythm of footsteps altered into shorter, more explosive impacts. Each contact lasted barely an instant before releasing again.
Reiji concentrated immediately.
Vertical movement.
We're ascending.
A faint scrape confirmed it a moment later—the rough drag of sandals against stone surfaces between bursts of momentum.
Wall-running.
The impostor was moving quickly now.
Then suddenly—
Weight vanished entirely.
For one brief moment, direction itself disappeared beneath the sensation of open air rushing violently around them. The fall lasted barely a second before movement twisted sharply sideways mid-descent.
Then impact.
Controlled.
Absorbed cleanly through bent legs and shifting hips before momentum rolled immediately back into motion.
The footsteps resumed without pause, faster than before.
They had crossed the village wall.
Soon afterward, the sounds around them widened further still. The lingering echoes of civilization disappeared completely until only open space remained—wind moving freely across trees, distant birds somewhere overhead, branches shifting against one another far below.
No voices anymore.
No civilians.
No Konoha.
They had left the village.
Reiji let the realization settle quietly this time.
There was nothing he could do right now.
So he turned inward instead, forcing himself into stillness while preserving what little control remained to him. Panic was useless. Rage was useless. Both would only cloud his thoughts when clarity mattered most.
Wait.
Observe.
Endure.
And when the technique finally broke—
Something sharp and absolute settled into place within him.
I'll kill him.
***
Reiji blinked.
Sight returned first, hazy and unstable, bright light stabbing painfully into his eyes before the blur slowly settled into shape. Then sensation crashed back into him all at once. Air tore violently into his lungs in a rough breath, his chest expanding too fast as feeling spread unevenly through his body—weight pressing against his side, damp earth beneath him, muscles aching from having remained motionless for too long. Pins and needles crawled through his limbs as circulation forced itself back through numb flesh, dull pain spreading gradually outward until his entire body felt heavy and wrong.
The transition hit too suddenly.
One moment there had been nothing. No body. No breath. No sensation at all.
Now everything returned at once.
His thoughts lagged behind the shock of it, struggling to catch up while instinct reacted first. Something was wrong immediately—deeply wrong.
Reiji tried to move.
The answer came instantly.
Rope bit harshly into his wrists the moment he pulled against it, rough fibers tightening around skin already rubbed raw. His hands were bound tightly behind his back, leaving almost no room to twist or create leverage, while his ankles had been tied as well, forcing his legs into an awkward angle against uneven ground.
Forest.
The realization came naturally as his senses steadied further. Damp leaves clung to his clothes and pressed coldly against his side while the smell of wet bark and dirt lingered thickly in the air around him. Wind moved unevenly through the trees overhead, stirring branches softly somewhere above.
"—Well, hello there, boy."
Reiji's head snapped upward faster than intended, his neck protesting sharply from the sudden motion as his focus locked immediately onto the two men standing nearby.
Unknown.
His gaze moved across them automatically, fast and precise despite the lingering haze clouding his head. The older one looked somewhere in his thirties, darker-skinned with blond hair beginning to pale near the edges, his posture relaxed in the controlled way experienced shinobi often carried themselves. Not careless. Efficient. The younger man beside him held himself differently—tenser, sharper around the shoulders, irritation sitting closer to the surface beneath the sneer already pulling at his mouth.
Civilian clothes.
Irrelevant.
Nothing about either of them felt civilian.
Shinobi.
At minimum chūnin.
Possibly worse.
"What?" the younger one sneered when Reiji stayed silent. "Nothing to say? Quiet little shit, aren't you?"
Reiji ignored him completely.
Instead, his attention shifted past them, studying the environment despite the awkward position he'd been forced into. They were somewhere deep enough beneath the canopy that sunlight barely reached the ground cleanly.
Then he saw her.
Kushina lay several meters away, bound like him though less tightly. Her wrists had been tied in front instead of behind, but cloth had been forced harshly into her mouth, muffling every sound she tried to make into strained, frightened breaths. Her eyes locked onto his immediately the moment he looked over.
Fear sat openly in them.
She tried to say something through the gag.
Only broken sounds came out.
The younger shinobi clicked his tongue irritably.
"Will you shut up already?"
He stepped forward casually.
Then kicked her hard in the stomach.
The impact folded her instantly. Kushina curled inward violently as a choked sound forced itself through the cloth in her mouth, air leaving her lungs in one sharp, helpless exhale.
Something cold tightened inside Reiji.
His fingers clenched hard enough behind his back that his nails bit into his own palms while the ropes cut deeper into his wrists.
But outwardly—
Nothing.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't give them the reaction they wanted.
The older shinobi sighed quietly through his nose before glancing elsewhere.
"Can we leave now?"
"I recovered enough to move" another voice answered calmly from somewhere behind Reiji. "That'll have to do."
Reiji twisted immediately, ignoring the rope digging painfully into his shoulders as he forced himself just far enough to see over one shoulder.
And there he was.
The Yamanaka.
Standing only a few steps behind him.
The final uncertainty vanished instantly.
It really was him.
Reiji's eyes narrowed sharply as their gazes met, lingering disorientation burning away beneath colder focus.
"You realize you just betrayed the village, right?" he asked.
The Yamanaka barely reacted.
"It would seem so."
Reiji kept watching him carefully, searching for something beneath the man's calm expression.
"…Why?"
For a moment the Yamanaka simply regarded him quietly, posture loose in a way that somehow made him feel even more dangerous.
Then he spoke.
"If someone killed your father," he said evenly, "and the village pardoned him… no punishment, no consequences, nothing. They simply allowed him to continue walking around freely in front of you as though nothing happened…"
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"Would you still be loyal to that village?"
Reiji's jaw tightened instinctively.
"My father didn't kill your son."
"Not directly," the Yamanaka replied. "But the result remains the same."
Something colder slipped beneath his voice now.
"He abandoned his team. Abandoned his mission. Sacrificed all of them for something that served no one except himself."
Reiji's hands clenched harder.
"You don't know what you would've done in his place."
"I do."
The answer came immediately.
Without hesitation.
"I would've killed you and completed the mission."
Silence settled briefly between them.
Then despite the situation, despite the ropes and the blood still rushing unevenly through his body, Reiji smiled faintly.
Sharp.
Mean.
"So you would've killed your son too?" he asked quietly. "Takeshi, right?"
There.
A reaction.
Small enough most people would've missed it entirely, but Reiji caught it immediately—the slightest shift around the man's eyes.
Then steel flashed.
Reiji barely saw the movement before pain exploded through his shoulder.
The kunai punched into him just above the heart with brutal precision, the impact driving straight through muscle hard enough to jolt his entire body backward. White-hot pain spread instantly through his chest and shoulder, sharp enough that his breath caught halfway inside his lungs.
A hand seized his hair immediately afterward.
Pulled hard.
His head snapped backward painfully until indigo eyes filled his vision at close range.
"I would've killed my son," the Yamanaka said quietly, voice calm enough to make the words worse, "if the mission required it."
His grip tightened slightly.
"And I would've made sure my team survived."
Reiji forced himself to keep staring back despite the pain throbbing violently through his shoulder.
"An infant not even born ?" the man continued. "That decision would've been easier."
Then he released him.
Reiji hit the ground hard enough to send another wave of pain tearing through his body. Blood spread warmly beneath his clothes now, sticking fabric uncomfortably against his skin while his breathing came rough and uneven for several seconds before he forced control back over it.
"But apparently," the Yamanaka continued while straightening calmly, "the higher-ups in Konoha no longer think that way. They allow personal attachments to excuse failure."
Reiji dragged in another breath through clenched teeth.
Then smiled again anyway.
"Well…" His voice came out rougher now, strained beneath the pain. "You definitely won't be pardoned either."
His eyes lifted toward the man again.
"So I hope you run fast."
The older shinobi interrupted before the Yamanaka could respond.
"Enough, Inoto. We already wasted enough time waiting for you to recover your chakra. We need to move."
"They'll be busy," Inoto replied calmly. "Right now they believe a rogue academy student murdered his teacher and kidnapped the girl. They'll search inside the village first. They won't believe he escaped without raising alarms."
"Still," the younger shinobi muttered while stepping toward Kushina, grabbing her roughly by the arm and hauling her painfully upright, "we rushed this. The Uzumaki girl isn't sealed yet."
"She's still an Uzumaki," the older one answered dismissively before his attention shifted back toward Reiji.
This time his gaze lingered longer.
Assessing.
"Why keep him?" he asked flatly. "The girl has value. Him? I don't see it. He's just extra weight." His eyes narrowed slightly. "We should kill him."
Reiji met the stare without flinching despite the pain still burning through his shoulder.
"You're mistaken," Inoto said quietly.
He looked down at Reiji almost thoughtfully.
"This boy is worth more than the girl."
A brief pause followed before he added evenly:
"I imagine the Mizukage would listen very carefully if your Raikage informed him we possess his grandson."
Reiji stilled.
For a split second, the world around him seemed to narrow sharply around that single sentence.
Shit.
The older shinobi's entire expression shifted immediately. Interest replaced indifference almost at once as he looked back toward Reiji with renewed focus.
"Ah," he murmured slowly. "So you're that child…"
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"The Disaster of Kiri."
*****