The night was unnaturally dark.
The Hyūga Clan compound, which typically settled into quiet rest early, blazed with light this evening.
Every member of the Hyūga had gathered in the clan's grand banquet hall to celebrate the third birthday of their heiress, Hyūga Hinata.
Yet the festivities were barely halfway through when the young Hinata—overwhelmed by the crowd and her tender age—was sent by the clan head, Hyūga Hiashi, to bed.
At that very moment, a team of intruders slipped silently into the grounds of the family said to possess the strongest sensory perception in the entire shinobi world.
If word of this ever spread, people would dismiss it as pure fantasy.
With the Byakugan active, there were no blind spots in a full three-hundred-sixty-degree field; every rustle of wind or blade of grass within several kilometers—sometimes more than ten—fell under their effortless scrutiny.
What fool would dare infiltrate a clan filled with Byakugan wielders?
And yet, the impossible had happened: not only had they breached the compound, they had abducted the guest of honor at tonight's Hyūga celebration.
Deep in the night, four figures raced through a pitch-black forest, the unconscious Hyūga heiress slung over one shoulder.
The sheer ease with which they had snatched the main family's heiress sent thrills of exhilaration coursing through them.
But this was no time to celebrate.
Thirty minutes.
That was the Uchiha patrol's rotation interval.
Two days of covert observation had yielded that much.
The schedule might shift every few days, but they simply hadn't had the luxury of time to map the full routine of Konoha's Military Police Force—those Uchiha.
Logically, thirty minutes at top speed should have been enough to clear the village borders.
But this was Konoha; full speed was out of the question.
As the foremost ninja village in the world, victor of three consecutive Great Ninja Wars, no amount of caution could be deemed excessive here.
Even the precedent of kidnapping the Nine-Tails jinchūriki from within these walls had been a fluke—one stroke of outrageous luck. Could lightning truly strike twice?
A mission with no return ticket.
From the moment this Kumogakure squad accepted the assignment, none of them had entertained the notion of leaving Konoha alive.
They ghosted past outpost after outpost, evading patrol after patrol.
One more street to cross, then the forest ahead, and finally the treacherous Death Forest beyond Konoha's walls—after that, freedom.
The thought spurred them faster.
The Hyūga heiress's disappearance had already sounded the alarm within the clan; pursuit would arrive any moment.
They had to vanish—now.
The night deepened, so black that a hand held at arm's length disappeared into the void.
Without the scattered streetlamps, navigation would have been impossible.
Even so, a handful of late-night pedestrians still wandered the roads.
"Kakashi-nii-san, I really wanna go to the Ninja Academy."
"Grandpa says if I enroll, I'll make tons of friends."
The child's innocent voice drifted back to the kidnappers, making the rearmost man's heart lurch and his expression twitch.
It wasn't the boy that rattled him—it was the name on the child's lips.
"Naruto, I'm giving you a mission: guard this bowl of ramen with your life."
Kakashi crouched, pressing the takeout container from Ichiraku Ramen into Naruto's small hands.
"Mhm! Mhm!"
"Leave it to me!"
Naruto had no idea why Kakashi-nii-san needed a bowl of ramen protected, but he thumped his chest with utter confidence all the same.
Man, it smells amazing… hehe~
"Good kid."
Kakashi's smile was soft as he ruffled the boy's hair, then rose.
Beneath the streetlamp's glow, warm light spilled over his silver hair; his tall frame turned toward the approaching figures and advanced, step by measured step.
"Kakashi, four hostiles closing in. Kumogakure shinobi."
"Stay sharp."
A small pug emerged from the roadside bushes.
Pakkun.
While Kakashi had been strolling with Naruto, he had already dispatched the eight ninken he raised to shadow the Kumogakure delegation.
And that was precisely why he could appear here so coincidentally.
"Boss, it's Kakashi!"
"I'll hold the rear—go!"
The rearmost Kumogakure shinobi hissed through clenched teeth.
"Idiot. You wouldn't last fifteen seconds."
The delegation leader's face was grim as stone.
"Now, our only shot…"
Their only shot was to lean on their diplomatic cover as a peace envoy and buy time to flee.
Trying to talk their way out while openly carrying a child who was obviously not Kumogakure shinobi was the height of delusion.
But delusion was all they had left.
"So you're the famous Kakashi. I've long admired your grea—"
The Kumogakure leader forced the words past his lips, steeling himself.
In all honesty, he was confident the four of them could overwhelm Kakashi.
But a swift victory? Impossible—and that was why he clung to this final gambit.
Yet the warm streetlight stretched the white-haired youth's shadow, melting it into the fathomless night.
Steady, crisp footfalls rang out, accompanied by the chilling shiiing of steel sliding free—a sound that cut through the darkness like a bell.
As the silver-haired shinobi closed the distance, a blade emerged inch by inch from its scabbard.
What manner of sword was this?
The night could not dull its mirror-bright edge.
But beside its wielder, even that gleam seemed dimmed.
Shrouded in darkness, the approaching figure's face remained indistinct—yet a pair of exposed eyes burned with razor clarity.
So piercing that the Kumogakure leader felt, in the span of a heartbeat, the blade would shear straight through his neck.
He means to kill me?!
The thought detonated in the leader's mind.
His half-formed greeting died as though a drowning man had sunk beneath the waves, words lost forever.
Strike first or die.
Worthy of the Raikage's personal selection, the captain decided in an instant.
The man advancing on him radiated murderous intent so thick there could be no parley.
"Lightning Release—"
Hand seals blurred like lightning; chakra surged through the leader's coils as he readied a coordinated strike to end Kakashi here and now.
Yet…
"…Chidori."
Kakashi spoke the word as calmly as if continuing the Kumogakure leader's sentence—the most terrifying syllable in the shinobi world.
Soundless lightning flared around him, coalescing into the blade gripped in his palm.
The silent thunderblade rent the darkness, slicing the night itself in two.
The instant the arc-light flared, the Kumogakure leader's eyes bulged; his half-formed seal shattered as both hands—ten fingers—were severed in a single slash.
Blood had no time to spray before a crimson line split the leader's face.
The mute blade-light engulfed him in a heartbeat; a breathless hush fell, then exploded into a deafening roar that shattered the sleeping night.
As lightning and steel pulverized the Kumogakure captain, a pair of hawk-sharp eyes fixed on the three remaining shinobi.
"Next…"
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