"Even with the Hyuga out there, we need to be prepared," Saiki warned. "We should have an emergency extraction plan ready before we start."
Tsume nodded, her respect for Saiki's caution growing by the hour.
Daylight faded with agonizing speed, and the shadows of the forest grew long and jagged.
After a final gear check, the squad moved out toward the Back Mountain.
The moon illuminated the rugged terrain, casting ghostly shadows through the massive trees.
Saiki led the way, his sensory net expanded to its limit. Kurenai and Genhai followed closely, with Tsume bringing up the rear to ensure no one was snatched from behind.
Night patrol was a special kind of torture.
In a "safe" zone like the inner perimeter, the mind naturally drifts between boredom and paranoia, leading to a dangerous mental numbness.
As the hours ticked by, the fatigue began to set in.
After finishing their first circuit, Saiki noticed that despite their afternoon nap, Genhai and Kurenai were starting to flag.
"Sensei, what's the rotation? Are we staying out here all night, or is there a second shift?"
Kurenai and Genhai looked at Tsume with hopeful eyes. She shook her head.
"We've had reinforcements, but the front line is still bleeding. The new thousand men are spread across a hundred-mile front. There is no second shift for this sector tonight."
Looking at the two nine-year-olds, Saiki felt a pang of pity.
He had the constitution of a monster, but they were just normal children. This level of endurance was a tall order for them.
But Tsume remained firm.
"Adapt or die. Pace yourselves, find a rhythm, and keep your eyes open. There is no room for weakness here."
Properly motivated by her harsh tone, the two kids fought off their drowsiness. "Yes, Sensei!"
"Good. Take five. Stay silent and keep your ears open," Tsume ordered.
Static... static...
Tsume keyed her radio for the mandatory five-minute check-in.
"This is East Sector, Back Mountain. A300. Status: Green. All quiet."
The patrol was structured in tiers. Outer and inner rings, with two squads per sector.
Even for a ninja, the distance between the groups meant a five-minute travel time.
If a squad missed a check-in, it was considered a confirmed engagement.
The night deepened. Ninja were still human; without chakra, they were as vulnerable as anyone else.
Seeing that the kids were truly at their limit, Tsume allowed them a short, sitting nap. The watch fell to her and Saiki.
Saiki wasn't tired, but he was bored out of his mind.
"Sensei, watch them for a minute. I need to go... handle something."
Tsume gave him a knowing look and nodded. "Go. Stay within range."
With a few silent leaps, Saiki cleared a hundred meters to find a secluded bush.
As he relieved the pressure on his bladder, he let out a long sigh of relief.
He looked up at the moon.
It had been a long time since he'd been up this late. For a moment, he felt like he was back in his old world, pulling an all-nighter for a video game.
Then the cold wind hit him, reminding him he was on a mountain of corpses, waiting for the next scream.
He finished up and adjusted his pants.
Suddenly, he heard a rustle in the branches above. He froze, his hand dropping to his hilt.
He moved closer, silent as a ghost, and saw a small owl watching him with wide, curious eyes.
Saiki let out a soft chuckle. Even in the middle of a war, nature went about its business.
However, he didn't lower his guard. He expanded his perception, ensuring the bird had no chakra—it wasn't a Cloud messenger.
As the day passed, Saiki's mental state had stabilized.
The bloodlust of the previous night had settled into a sharp, cold readiness. He wasn't as high-strung, but he was more dangerous.
Confirming the area was clear, Saiki returned to the camp.
He didn't bother sensing other sectors; his focus was his own zone.
Even the Byakugan had its limits—the human brain couldn't process every detail of a ten-mile scan simultaneously.
Tsume gave him a nod as he returned. Saiki sat down and entered a shallow meditation to conserve his energy.
Time crawled forward. Soon, it was 3:00 AM—the hour where the human spirit is at its weakest.
North-East of the main camp, Outer Perimeter.
The outer patrol had spent the entire night in a state of high alert, but they had found nothing.
Assumed the danger had passed, the captain allowed his squad to halt and recover.
"It's almost dawn. Take five. I doubt the Cloud are coming tonight."
The captain was relieved. His squad had been reinforced with a Hyuga branch member, which had made the patrol significantly less stressful.
The Hyuga didn't feel relieved. Maintaining the Byakugan for hours was a massive drain on his chakra and his sanity.
The moment the order was given, he collapsed onto a log and swallowed a soldier pill, desperately trying to recover his reserves.
The rest of the team settled in, trying to catch their breath. They didn't realize they were making a fatal mistake.
The Cloud offensive had been stalled, but tonight was their last chance for a surprise strike.
Once Shikaku Nara finished organizing the reinforcements, the window for a breakthrough would be closed.
The Cloud had received their own reinforcements tonight.
A few minutes into their rest, a faint rustle of leaves drifted through the trees.
"Quiet! Did you hear that?"
The captain wasn't a sensor, but he was a veteran scout. He felt a prickle of alarm on his skin.
The team scrambled to their feet. The Hyuga flared his chakra, his veins bulging as his vision pierced the darkness. The sensor of the team expanded his reach.
"SHIT! CONTACT! ENEMY CONTACT! SIGNAL HEADQUARTERS—"
Less than a kilometer away, a dozen massive, black silhouettes were hurtling through the trees.
For a ninja, that distance was a matter of seconds.
The captain wove his signs and fired an emergency flare into the sky.
The Hyuga locked onto the incoming blurs, his face pale with dread.
The sensor desperately tried to pin down their numbers, but it was too many.
The air grew heavy with a sudden, suffocating pressure. Everyone knew: the night was about to turn red.