Kusagakure was cruder than Shisui had imagined. There were no towering walls or imposing gates, only a periter of wooden palisades encircling dozens of low-slung houses.
At the entrance, a dozen Genin basked lazily in the sun. They only stood up sluggishly when they saw him approach.
"Rogue ninja?" a Chūnin asked, looking him up and down. "Seeking refuge?"
Shisui, now known as Shiraki, pulled a forged identification docunt from his robe. He had used a Transmission Bug to have Mui at Hozuki Castle prepare it—it was rough, but sufficient for the lax standards of the Grass.
The Chūnin tossed it back. "Head in. Third building to the east, registration office."
Inside, the village looked even more dilapidated. The streets were muddy, and the shinobi he passed looked gaunt and listless.
"This is the face of survival in the cracks," Shisui thought.
At the registration office, a stout middle-aged Chūnin glanced at Shiraki's profile. "Shiraki... Rogue ninja. Specialty: Sensing. Partner: A dragonfly capable of Wind Style..." He paused, looking up. "Sensing? What's your range?"
"About half a mile."
The ninja's eyes lit up. "Half a mile? For real?"
Shisui closed his eyes, then reopened them monts later. "Three hundred ters northwest, two people are arguing. One in grey, one in black. Grey claims Black stole his money."
The official whispered to a subordinate, who ran out and returned shortly to confirm the report word-for-word. The official's jaw dropped. "How... how did you know?"
"Sensing," Shiraki said flatly.
The official grinned. "Good, good! You've arrived at the perfect ti. Settle into the dorms; we'll assign you tasks tomorrow. Trust , stick with the Grass, and you won't regret it."
As Shisui walked away, he noticed the official rushing off to inform the village leadership. A high-level sensor was a strategic asset, and departnts would soon be fighting over him. This was exactly what Shisui wanted.
Rise of the "Grass-Colored Dragonfly"
Over the next month, Shisui lived a thodical life. He took missions, completed them, and turned them in.
His sensory abilities made him a legend among his teammates. With him around, enemies were spotted before they could strike, and ambushes beca impossible.
Mission success rates soared while casualties plumted.
"Shiraki, join our squad tomorrow!" "Shiraki, we need a hand on this escort!" "Shiraki, drinks tonight? My treat!"
His na began to ring throughout the village. Those who had ignored him now greeted him with smiles. Shisui accepted all invitations; with Ao on his shoulder, he was constantly refining natural energy.
Traveling for missions actually helped, as natural energy in one location could be depleted; moving around allowed for faster cultivation.
In his spare ti, he studied the "plagiarized" Wind Style techniques of the Grass. While their foundation was shaky, their ability to modify and adapt techniques was impressive.
But he was doing more than just missions. Every ti he went on a task, he secretly released Mimicry Information Bugs.
After a month, his "eyes" were everywhere. Invisible insects clung to the rafters of the high-level eting rooms. He now knew:
The addresses, habits, and weaknesses of all 23 Jōnin.
The squad dynamics and mission movents.
The core conflicts between the two political factions.
The identities of 30 foreign spies hidden within the village.
Most spies were from Iwagakure, operating almost in the open. Others belonged to Konoha, Suna, A, and Kumo. There was even a lone Kirigakure spy who seed to be on the verge of defecting, sending back forged reports to his village just to stay off their radar.
Shisui quickly earned the title: "The Grass-Colored Dragonfly."
The Ultimatum
A few days later, Shisui returned from a mission to find the atmosphere in the village had shifted. The guards were standing at attention, and unfamiliar ninjas in Iwagakure attire were stationed at the gate.
Back in his dorm, Shisui lay on his bed and activated a crystal ball—a dium for his insects' visual feed. The scene showed the Kusagakure eting room.
The Grass Leader was bowing deeply to an Iwa envoy who looked on with disdain. The envoy delivered a final ssage from Lord Ōnoki:
"Kusagakure has stalled for too long. If you do not imdiately deploy troops to harass Konoha's borders, the consequences will be your own to bear."
"Consequences will be your own to bear." In the hearts of the Grass elders, this was a death sentence. That night, an ergency council was convened. Every Jōnin and elder was present.
"Leader, we must march," an elder sighed. "We have no other choice."
"Yes... We knew this day would co."
Shisui watched the screen, a cold glint in his eyes. The "wall-sitter" was finally being forced to jump, and he would be there to ensure they fell exactly where he wanted them.
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