"Hokage-sama, I know these opponents aren't worth mentioning to you… but entering the enemy formation without escorts was our failure."
Hyuga Yuu's voice was calm as still water. Minato's mood—uplifted a moment ago by the feeling of having a successor—settled back down.
It was that effect again: a temperament completely opposite of Kushina's. Just Yuu's expression and tone could smooth out everyone around him.
Useful on the battlefield, sure… but when Yuu spoke like this, Minato always felt compelled to read deeper.
On the surface, Yuu meant: You came to face the enemy without us at your side; we didn't fulfill our Shadow Guard duty.
But Minato couldn't shake the suspicion that Yuu was also telling him—politely—to reflect on the fact he'd come alone.
Was it just his imagination?
Yuu's voice had no rise or fall. You couldn't tell at all.
Minato shook his head, dropped the thought, and met Yuu's gaze. Each of them produced a Flying Thunder God kunai marked with their own signature and tossed it to the other—swapping markers.
At the same time, Yuu's quiet report reached Minato's ear.
"Seven o'clock. Twenty-nine meters. Retreating. Speed: twenty-five meters per second."
Minato instantly calculated the best interception line. Four Flying Thunder God kunai appeared in each of his hands, and he threw them into that direction.
Yuu moved similarly—only toward a different sector.
Whiiip—
With a short, sharp whistle, both of them vanished again.
…
In the forest drowned in fog, faint explosions popped from time to time. Kurosuki Raiga stood on a tree branch, carefully scanning the surroundings. Only after confirming no enemy presence did he start treating his wound.
He wrapped his stump with emergency bandages, then hurriedly pulled the sack from his back to the front and opened it.
A small boy lay inside—peaceful, breathing evenly, completely unconscious.
Raiga smiled.
"Good. That strike only knocked Ranmaru out."
Remembering the Hyuga who had appeared out of nowhere, Raiga frowned and checked his Thunder Blade—confirming this remaining blade bore no strange seal. Only then did he relax.
After Minato became famous, Mist intelligence had studied Flying Thunder God obsessively. Raiga knew it required special marks.
He'd realized it: when the Hyuga's shadow clone made contact with the blade Raiga later lost, that must've been when the mark was planted.
"He spared me because he wanted to go support the Fourth Hokage?"
He exhaled—grateful he'd survived.
As for the others… shinobi raised in the "Bloody Mist" didn't care much about comrades. Whatever naive ideas they started with were beaten out of them after enough "purge" missions.
For Raiga now, there was only one person that mattered: Ranmaru.
"I lost the Thunder Blade and ran… I'll be the easiest scapegoat. I can't go back to the village…"
Raiga pushed himself up, re-slung the sack onto his back, and limped away.
"I'll just become a wandering ninja with Ranmaru."
One hundred meters behind him, a pair of Byakugan eyes watched silently.
…
Fuguki Suikazan and Biwa Jūzō stood back-to-back, guarding against any movement in the mist.
"Damn it… those two ran, didn't they?"
"The screams from those directions already told you what happened. Don't waste your thoughts," Jūzō said coldly.
"I know. Just don't drag me down."
Sweat slid down Fuguki's face. He stared into the fog, forcing steadiness into his voice.
How long had it been since contact?
One minute? Three? It didn't matter—not even ten minutes.
And the Seven Ninja Swordsmen were already down to two?
Was a Kage… really this terrifying?
If someone could butcher them like vegetables, Fuguki couldn't even imagine what that person would do on a battlefield.
Iwa and Kumo retreating… suddenly didn't seem so mysterious.
The silent, crushing atmosphere pressed down on them. And in that suffocating wait-for-death stillness—
two blurry figures emerged from the mist.
"So it was you."
Jūzō saw Hyuga Yuu and immediately understood who had been feeding the Fourth Hokage targeting calls.
Byakugan… the perfect counter to Hidden Mist.
Fuguki, on the other hand, showed a twisted grin and murmured:
"I'll hold off that Byakugan brat. You use Silent Killing to pin down the Fourth. How about it?"
"Without the Byakugan, the Fourth can't go full speed either. Maybe we can escape."
Jūzō glanced at him, didn't bother calling out the obvious selfishness, and charged toward Minato.
Flying Thunder God needed those kunai as anchors. If he was careful enough… maybe he could fight.
Even if the odds were slim.
As for "escaping"?
Unless they took the Hokage hostage, it was impossible.
—
Fuguki's expression stayed grim, but when he looked at Yuu's youthful, underage face, he let out a malicious laugh.
"A Hyuga prodigy? Then let me experience your precious Gentle Fist."
"Needle Jizō!"
He released Samehada and formed seals.
His hair hardened like steel and fired out in a storm of needle-like strands.
"Rotation!"
A blue chakra sphere enveloped Yuu, grinding against the endless barrage of hair-needles.
Seeing it fail, Fuguki didn't waste chakra—he switched immediately.
"Water Dragon Bullet!"
A water dragon tens of meters long surged up and smashed down toward Yuu's Rotation. Fuguki vanished from sight, melting into the fog.
Yuu canceled the Water Dragon with Rotation—then snapped a palm strike toward his side.
A terrifying blow vanished like a stone into the sea—blocked by Samehada.
Fuguki sneered and swung the greatsword, forcing Yuu back.
"Gentle Fist? Taijutsu specialist? Your attacks still use chakra as a guide—then they're useless against me."
Samehada was the most powerful of the Seven Swords by ability: it could devour enemy chakra—even ninjutsu itself.
No one could truly "unfold" their techniques in front of him.
"Agreed. It's worth studying," Yuu said evenly. "But the wielder isn't."
Green steam erupted from Yuu's body again.
Fuguki froze.
Did Hyuga Gentle Fist have something like this?
If you die to this… it's a fitting end for one of the Seven Swordsmen.
In Fuguki's stunned gaze, Yuu moved like the Fourth Hokage himself—appearing beside Fuguki as if he'd used Flying Thunder God.
A fist wreathed in heat hammered into Fuguki's body, striking at his chakra points in rapid succession.
Eight Gates—Sixth Gate, open!
Daytime Tiger… no—
Asa Kujaku! (Morning Peacock!)
Against this, Samehada's chakra-devouring meant nothing. In the high-speed exchange, even Samehada—used as a shield—was kicked away.
Fuguki could only take the hits with his body. Heavy impacts landed everywhere.
He stumbled back, tried to form seals, abandoning taijutsu entirely.
That wasn't ordinary Hyuga style. It wasn't "soft overcoming hard." It was closer to Konoha's Strong Fist.
And Samehada couldn't absorb that.
But as he tried to use ninjutsu, he realized his chakra circulation was strangely sluggish.
His movements stiffened.
This is—
"Tenketso sealing. You should be familiar with it."
The cold voice came from behind.
Fuguki couldn't even turn around. His body went limp—
and he never stood again.
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