But disgust was still just disgust.
If he washed the girl in front of him, maybe she'd still be usable.
So Teizawa said casually, "If you don't want to die, then follow me."
Like he was giving an offhand instruction about something trivial.
After that, he didn't spare Kurotsuchi another glance as she lay curled into herself.
He simply turned and walked toward the depths of the desert.
As if he'd already decided she had no choice but obedience.
And in fact, before this—
He'd already split off a sand clone.
That clone was remaining at the canyon's edge in his stead.
Leading Kankurō and the others as they reorganized the caravan…
And continuing to escort that enormous fortune back to Sunagakure.
Once the Suna forces had crossed the canyon that had now been filled in, the road ahead entered the core of Suna's sphere of control.
Patrols, outposts, defensive barriers…
Layer after layer of security. There was no longer any need for him to personally oversee it.
Besides…
After last night's "mountain rolling" display,
Teizawa was confident that for quite a while, no force would dare to touch Suna again.
Not roaming mercenary-ninja bands, not missing-nin organizations, not even the other hidden villages.
So…
He had plenty of "free time" now.
And he decided to give himself a vacation.
To accompany the Iwagakure princess behind him, the Third Tsuchikage's granddaughter… Kurotsuchi—
And "play" with her properly.
A true needle-to-needle showdown.
A perfectly realistic investigation.
At this moment, the dazed Kurotsuchi sat limp on the cold ground.
The wet stain beneath her and the sharp stink made her want to crawl into a crack in the earth and vanish.
Follow him?
Where was he taking her?
Her thoughts were a mess. She lifted a hand and wiped at her face with her sleeve, smearing away tears and snot in a rough, careless motion that nearly scraped her skin raw.
She glared viciously at Teizawa's back as it receded.
Her teeth ground together until they clicked.
Yeah, right.
Only an idiot would follow you.
In the next heartbeat, she'd made her decision.
She could still use the Body Flicker Technique.
She could still escape—
She still had a chance.
Now.
Right now!
A sharp light flashed in her eyes.
Ignoring the ache screaming through her body, she slammed both hands to the ground.
Chakra surged wildly into her feet. Her muscles tightened.
Her body coiled like a spring wound to the limit—
About to launch across the empty desert—
But—
In that instant, the corner of her vision caught something unnaturally black.
Floating silently in the air less than a foot in front of her.
A… lizard?
A sand lizard, common in the desert.
Except it was rigid in a way no living creature should be.
Its body was wrapped in a layer of black satetsu (sand iron), gleaming with a cold metallic sheen.
The black sand iron wound around its tiny limbs and torso.
It even seeped faintly from its eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils.
The lizard's small eyes were wide open…
Staring straight at her.
Kurotsuchi's movement stopped dead.
The chakra she'd gathered burst into chaos in her pathways, stinging with sharp pain.
She stared at the sudden sand-iron lizard, mind blank.
What… was this?
Or rather—what was it about to do?
She didn't have time to understand before the change hit.
"Pff—"
A muffled sound, abrupt and sickening.
The floating lizard burst apart without warning.
Not an explosion, not fire—more like something inside it had swollen in an instant and ripped it open.
Tiny bits of flesh. Splintered bone. Thick organs—
All mixed with that pitch-black sand iron.
They splattered down like the filthiest rain.
All over Kurotsuchi's face and body.
Warm. Reeking of blood. Sweet and metallic. Gritty with sand.
The sticky mess smeared over her eyes.
Slid into her mouth, which had fallen open in shock.
"Ghk—!"
Her stomach seized and she gagged violently.
But what terrified her even more—
Was what happened after it burst.
The sand iron didn't fall with the gore.
It hung in the air, twisting and writhing in a way that made her skin crawl.
And then, several hair-thin strands of it surged toward her—
Following the fresh blood from the abrasions on her face…
And drilled into her body.
A faint sensation followed.
Not pain. Not at first.
A prickly itch under her skin that was so subtle it was worse, like insects burrowing.
Kurotsuchi went pale with horror.
And right then, Teizawa's cold voice came again:
"See it clearly now?"
He didn't even slow down as he spoke.
His footsteps stayed calm, unhurried, as if nothing had happened.
"Your body is the same as that lizard's. It's full of my satetsu (sand iron) now."
"What…?"
Kurotsuchi felt like lightning had split her in half.
All the blood drained from her face.
She lowered her head stiffly and stared at her hands, her arms, her torso—
Beneath her skin, something seemed to be moving, slow and faint.
"If you don't want to end up like it," Teizawa's voice drifted back, "then behave. Keep up."
Like it?
Bursting apart?
Kurotsuchi's face turned deathly white.
This time she was truly terrified.
The image of herself becoming a smear of flesh and blood punched the air out of her lungs. Despair rose in her eyes.
She tried to move her chakra.
Tried to sense those grains, to force them out—
But wherever her chakra passed, she only felt cold.
The sand iron was like it had become part of her.
Rooted deep in her pathways.
Impossible to find. Impossible to drive out.
Now she understood why he'd been so fearless.
He'd already sealed every exit.
And the moment she realized it, ice spread through her chest.
She was young.
She didn't want to die…
Teizawa was already dozens of meters away.
She could only grit her teeth and choke out, "I'm… following… I'm following…"
Dragging herself up with everything she had left, she stumbled after him.
Like a feral dog with its spine ripped out.
They moved in a line.
One of them, composed as a king strolling through a private garden.
The other, low and miserable as a prisoner falling into the deepest hell.
They hadn't gone far when a patch of green appeared ahead.
A small oasis.
Several tall palm trees spread their canopies, casting rare shade.
And in the center—
A spring.
Water bubbled steadily from a crack in the rock, gathering into a small pool, clear enough to see the bottom.
Teizawa stopped and clicked his tongue in impressed amusement.
"Lucky," he muttered, like he was talking to himself. "Finding running water in a place like this."
His gaze swept over the pool, then slid back toward her.
Kurotsuchi stood a few steps away.
Stiff as a corpse.
She was coated in last night's blood and grime, dust, sweat—and…
The filth from her own accident.
Of course she saw the pool too.
In her condition, it was a fatal temptation.
She wanted to wash so badly she could taste it.
The cold, sticky dampness clung between her legs. Every tiny movement dragged sand against raw skin and made her flinch.
But when she lifted her eyes and her gaze hit Teizawa's back—
She bit down on her lip and stayed silent.
Stubborn.
Wordless.
Time crawled in suffocating quiet.
Only the wind whispering through palm fronds, and the faint trickle of the spring.
Finally, Teizawa turned as if he'd remembered she existed.
His eyes landed on her.
There was no emotion in them.
Just a slow scan, top to bottom.
Her clumped, filthy hair. The streaks of tears and blood on her face. The torn combat uniform with a suspicious dark stain…
The dried scabs and sand on her exposed skin…
His brow pinched slightly.
"Tch. Ugly and filthy."
"Go wash."
"Wash properly."
"Don't dirty my eyes."
Then he looked away again, as if she were an inconvenience.
He walked to the shade under a palm tree and sat down against the thick trunk, casual and at ease.
Kurotsuchi stood there, trembling hard enough her teeth nearly chattered.
Ugly? Filthy?
Don't dirty your eyes?
What the hell are you saying?!
She cursed him in her head.
But a bath was a luxury she was desperate for.
Still…
When she saw him staring, not moving—
Her face heated with humiliation.
Bastard. How am I supposed to wash while you're watching?
She gritted her teeth and forced the words out.
"C-can you… turn around?"
Teizawa sneered. "And why would I? Girl, you're my captive. Since when do you get to make demands?"
"You…"
Kurotsuchi's jaw clenched until it hurt.
But she had nothing.
Because he was right.
Her life was in his hands.
So expecting him to turn away was pointless.
But washing in front of him?
That was too shameful.
So…
Wash, or don't wash?
Kurotsuchi's fists tightened, nails digging deep into her palms.
Yet the sticky filth and the humiliating dampness beneath her only made her feel worse.
She took a few breaths and tried to harden her heart.
If I'm about to die anyway, how much does "dignity" matter?
She ground her teeth.
Finally, she moved.
Step by step, she walked toward the clear spring.
(End of Chapter)
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