Kōsetsu felt like his legs were about to burst. His chakra pathways, pushed to the extreme, were burning with pain, while his breathing grew heavier and heavier.
Behind him, the chūnin assigned to their group was panting heavily, falling behind with every passing second. Kōsetsu no longer held out hope for the girl, but he was not going to allow an Iwagakure kunoichi to fall into Konoha's hands.
Of course, she was only a chūnin, and the information she possessed would be mediocre at best. Almost all the information, at least.
The elder shinobi was aware of the reason why such inadequate forces were sent to deal with the mercenaries: The Tsuchikage did not trust those individuals, and was unwilling to lose valuable shinobi over a bad decision.
Kōsetsu was a Jōnin promoted by merit, not by skill or strength. He wasn't even a very experienced man, as during the wars, he dedicated himself to running and running, forming part of the supply team.
An aging runner and two untalented chūnin. Their loss would be insignificant to their Village. But who would have imagined that the mercenaries wouldn't betray them, but rather that Konoha would intervene in the matter?
This changed things. Kōsetsu would not let that damned village seize the information he and the kunoichi possessed, even if this operation was merely a test by the Tsuchikage.
That was what it meant to be a Ninja. That was the Will of Stone.
With his eyes shining with determination, Kōsetsu discreetly drew a kunai and, upon landing on the next branch, he stopped abruptly, catching the kunoichi off guard.
She had already jumped, so she had no way to evade the unexpected attack from her superior.
Murmuring a silent apology, Kōsetsu turned and plunged the kunai into the kunoichi's head with such force that the blade sank to the hilt. The girl's body twisted violently, breaking her neck with a wet snap and ending her life before she could understand the reason for her death.
The elder shinobi's expression hardened. His hand moved quickly, pulling out the kunai roughly and proceeding to stomp on his subordinate's head. It was a necessary method in case any Yamanaka was accompanying the Konoha Anbu.
Ten seconds after his act, the masked figures caught up to him and surrounded him again, silent and indifferent to the atrocity he had just committed.
—Damned Konoha shinobi— Kōsetsu said softly, his blood-stained foot twisting among the bone fragments and grey matter of the girl. —Was it necessary to come to this point? To condemn a young woman who fought with all her being for her Village?
Don't you have any shame, you damned tree-huggers!?— the man accused with a sneer.
The Anbu did not respond. They rarely did, but it wasn't as if Kōsetsu had experience with Anbu from other villages.
Despite being outnumbered and with his stamina waning due to the reckless chase, Kōsetsu stood firm against the masked figures.
Imperceptible head movements and posture changes were exchanged among the Anbu, codes that the Iwa-Nin could not interpret, but which clearly indicated a direct intervention. They were going to capture him.
A silent figure appeared from the side, their hand quickly weaving seals, and a fireball spat out towards Kōsetsu.
The elder shinobi evaded the attack, clutching his kunai to face the enemies in close-quarters combat. He did not have enough chakra left for more Ninjutsu.
Forcing his already low levels even further and straining his abused chakra pathways, Kōsetsu infused himself from the waist down and charged at the Anbu.
Shuriken and kunai rained down in his direction, but the man deflected them with his own weapon. Fireballs and wind gusts tried to slow him down, but Kōsetsu pushed through with iron determination.
And it was all useless.
The Anbu did not bother to engage him, evading and controlling him with Ninjutsu and throwing weapons, draining his stamina with cold efficiency. The Iwa-Nin felt frustrated.
He did not like the idea of taking his own life, but he would have to resort to it, or allow himself to fall into enemy hands. He liked neither option.
—You are cowards!— he bellowed, charging once more and being repelled again.
The exertion had made him sweat, and a drop got into his eye, distracting him for an instant. That instant was enough for a pair of shuriken to pierce his hand, forcing him to drop the kunai.
Kōsetsu groaned in pain and backed away, cradling his wounded hand and seriously considering immolating himself with a pair of explosive tags.
But before things escalated into such a tragedy, an unexpected ally came to his aid.
—Iwa-Nin-san!— came the youthful voice of the Akatsuki mercenary, calling Kōsetsu in a curious way due to the lack of a name. The man had not introduced himself because of Kakuzu's surly attitude.
Suiton: Suiryūben.
Bursting in a not-so-stealthy manner, the young man with brown hair spat out a dense sphere of water that briefly churned and rippled before shooting countless water whips at his opponents.
Kōsetsu blinked, surprised by the scale of a Jutsu he had already seen and which he considered barely useful in combat.
Instead of a couple of whips intended to lash or bind their opponents, this massive technique deployed more than two dozen furious aquatic appendages, capable of shattering tree trunks and extending more than twenty meters long.
The Anbu, despite being alerted to the noisy Akatsuki's appearance, barely managed to defend themselves from the unexpectedly powerful attack.
One of them was struck in the side, emitting a choked scream as that area of his body exploded in a cloud of clothing, flesh, and blood.
The shinobi's arm was ripped from its socket, flying through the air while a hole in his torso let out fluids whose origin Kōsetsu preferred not to know.
Realizing the threat, the Anbu turned around and ran, scattering in different directions to make pursuit and extermination difficult.
—And don't come back!— the mercenary boy spat, waving an arm in an offensive gesture. Then, he turned to Kōsetsu with a worried look, jumping toward him.
—Iwa-Nin-san, hold on!— the young man blurted out, bewildering Kōsetsu due to the familiarity and concern shown by this stranger. —Stay with me and pay us, Iwa-Nin-san!
**************************
—Thanks again, Takeshi-kun!— Kōsetsu said, bidding farewell with a warm smile as he made his way back to the Iwagakure outpost that Kakuzu and Takeshi had escorted him to.
That was where he kept the money, so the two Akatsuki members had no choice but to take him there.
Under normal circumstances, payment would be received by Konan and not by the members who carried out the work, but since Kakuzu was Kakuzu, he personally received the money for all his jobs.
Advantages of being a money maniac, or the organization's accountant. Takeshi didn't mind, that's for sure.
—Well, that was an interesting first mission, Senpai. We traveled, ate good food, laughed and bonded, fought side-by-side... I quite enjoyed it— the Yuki blurted out in a strange tone, souring Kakuzu's mood again.
—Let's go— the man said dryly. Takeshi smiled, following his deadly teammate closely.
—Senpaaaiii~ How about we visit a massage parlor? We could use a little tension release after that crazy night.
—Aaah, and we could also go to the hot springs! We'll strengthen our friendship!
—And remind me to buy a gift for my mom, Senpai. I'm sure she misses me and it would be good to cheer up her day with a gift~
After that last remark, Kakuzu's increasingly gloomy expression suddenly brightened, a fleeting yet amused and satisfied gleam passing through his eyes before vanishing.
—We are not going to Amegakure, brat. Did you think this was the only mission we were assigned?— he said in a flat tone, which nonetheless let slip a hint of mockery.
For an instant, a very, very brief instant, Kakuzu felt victorious in his heart upon seeing Takeshi's frozen, confused, and slightly panicked expression.
—Mama's boys— he scoffed internally, unaware of how right and wrong he truly was about the matter.
Meanwhile, Takeshi offered a silent prayer for the mental health of his deteriorating mother, hopeful that the woman's resilience would allow her to overcome this difficult period.
And, deep down, fearing what would happen when they saw each other again, depending on how long he was out of her reach.