The two-day journey was more grueling than expected.
The border of the Land of Birds featured complex terrain. Halfway through, the main road simply vanished, leaving nothing but rocky, wild paths.
Jiraiya was the first to collapse.
He sprawled across a roadside boulder, legs dangling limply, looking for all the world like a wilted spring onion under the scorching sun.
"Let's take a break... just a short one... my legs aren't mine anymore..."
Tsunade was faring slightly better, though only slightly. She leaned forward, hands on her knees, gasping for air. Strands of hair clung to her forehead with sweat and her lips were pale, but she gritted her teeth and didn't utter a single word of complaint.
Without looking back, Murakami Takuya commanded, "There's a stream two kiloters ahead. We rest when we get there."
Jiraiya let out a mournful wail.
Tsunade turned and shot him a lethal glare.
Kitahara Kaede walked at the rear, his breathing steady. He reached into his tool pouch, pulled out a Military Ration Pill, broke it in half, popped one piece into his mouth, and offered the other to Tsunade.
Tsunade took it and glanced at him. "You're not tired?"
"I'm alright."
She didn't play coy and simply tossed the pill into her mouth. Her face twisted at the bitterness, but once she swallowed, the shaking in her legs indeed subsided.
Jiraiya raised his hand. "I—"
"You have your own."
"I ran out."
"I told you to bring three before we left."
"I did! I ate two because I was hungry on the way, and another one because I was thirsty—"
"That's your problem."
Jiraiya opened his mouth to argue, realized he had no ground to stand on, and beca even more wilted.
Tsunade scoffed and fished half a piece of dry rations from her bag, tossing it over. "Don't die on the road. It'd be embarrassing."
Jiraiya's eyes lit up as he caught it. "Tsunade, you are a saint, a beautiful, bust—"
"Say one more word and I'm taking it back."
Jiraiya shut up instantly, chewing the food faster than anyone else.
Kitahara Kaede glanced at Tsunade. She had always been stubborn on the outside but soft-hearted on the inside; that had never changed since they were children.
***
They set up camp by the stream.
The mont Murakami Takuya gave the order, Jiraiya face-planted into the grass. He didn't move an inch, his snoring starting up faster than they could pitch the tents.
Tsunade dropped her gear and gave him a kick. "At least turn your head. If you suffocate, that's on you."
Jiraiya let out a muffled grunt, shifted his face to the side, and went back to sleep.
Giving up on him, Tsunade crouched down to set up the tent.
Kitahara Kaede didn't stop to rest. He placed his gear beside Tsunade and took a slow lap around the periter of the camp. Then, he began to set things up.
He stretched thin lines along the northern edge of the woods—three tripwires of varying heights and spacing, with empty cans and pebbles tied to the ends. Upstream in the creek, he wedged a smoke bomb; anyone wading through the water would trigger it.
In less than ten minutes, the periter of the camp was encased in an early-warning network.
When Tsunade finished with the tent, she looked back to see him returning from the northern woods, his hands stained with mud.
"What were you doing just now?"
"Setting a few things up."
She walked to the edge of the northern woods and crouched down, scanning the ground. At first, she saw nothing. Then, she spotted the first line—so thin it almost blended in with the dead grass, positioned exactly at the height of an adult's calf. Anyone rushing in would be tripped.
Furthermore, the three lines weren't parallel; they were staggered. If soone tripped on the first, they would collide with the second as they tried to scramble up.
She looked back at Kitahara Kaede.
This boy was her peer—they had graduated from the Academy together and spent three months catching fat cats together as Genin. When had he learned how to do this?
"The Academy never taught this kind of layout."
"I read it in a book," Kitahara Kaede replied without blinking, crouching by the stream to wash the mud off his hands.
Tsunade stared at him for a few seconds. His expression was the sa as always—flat and indifferent. There was no difference between the way he told the truth and the way he lied.
She opened her mouth to press him further, but in the end, she didn't. She turned and walked back toward the tents, giving Jiraiya another kick as she passed.
"Get up and pitch your own tent."
"Five minutes... just give five more minutes..."
"Three seconds. Three... two—"
Murakami Takuya leaned against a tree, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his gaze drifting away from Kitahara Kaede.
The tripwires weren't distributed evenly; they were placed according to the blind spots of the terrain. The northern side had the worst visibility, so he placed three lines there. The southern side was open, so he placed only one.
The way this child arranged the traps was based on experience bought with blood in actual combat—pouring limited resources into the most dangerous directions.
That wasn't sothing you could learn from a book.
'This kid... is this really his first ti leaving the village?'
***
By the ti the campfire was roaring, night had fallen completely.
Tsunade crouched by the fire, chewing on her dry rations. She frowned after every few bites. "This is like chewing on wood."
"Make do with it."
"When we get back, I'm eating three bowls of pork bone ran. With extra eggs."
"Your treat."
"Why should it be?"
"You still haven't paid up after losing that bet last ti."
Tsunade choked on her words and stopped responding, instead taking a vicious bite of the rations as if taking her frustration out on the food.
Jiraiya had long since fallen into a deep sleep, his snores rising in volu like crashing waves.
Kitahara Kaede noticed that even in sleep, Jiraiya was clutching that ragged notebook. The open page featured a crooked stick figure with a line of text beside it: *Cool pose for a hero descending from the sky.*
Kitahara Kaede gently closed the page.
The fire crackled, and the night wind carried the sound of the rushing stream. Tsunade finished her rations and sat with her arms wrapped around her knees.
"Do you think those wandering samurai... are really just ordinary people?"
"I don't know."
"The mission brief said seven to ten people."
"Mm."
"Then it shouldn't be that hard, right?"
Kitahara Kaede added a piece of firewood to the fla. "I don't know."
Tsunade looked at him sideways. The firelight reflected off his profile, his expression unchanging. But the hand adding the wood paused—just for a mont, less than a second.
She wanted to say sothing, but her eyelids betrayed her first. Her upper and lower lids fought a brief battle, and the upper ones won.
"You sleep first," Kitahara Kaede said.
"I'm not sleepy."
The mont the words left her mouth, her head tilted uncontrollably. She snapped herself upright. "I'm really not sleepy."
Kitahara Kaede didn't call her out. A minute later, her eyelids closed again. This ti, she didn't sit up. Her body slowly tilted to the side, like a small tree bending in the wind, leaning over slowly.
Kitahara Kaede didn't move. Only when her center of gravity shifted completely did he lean slightly, allowing her head to rest perfectly on his shoulder.
The movent was incredibly light. A few strands of her ponytail fell across his arm.
The firelight cast their shadows onto the grass behind them, overlapping into one. The wind blew, and the shadows swayed, but the silhouettes of the two remained connected.
Sitting a few ters away, Murakami Takuya rested his sword on his lap. He glanced over and then looked away.
"You take the first half of the night; I'll take the second."
Kitahara Kaede nodded.
They sat in silence for a while.
"I set three tripwires on the north side of the camp—"
"I saw," Murakami Takuya interrupted, his tone flat. "Not bad."
Kitahara Kaede didn't respond. He could feel Tsunade's steady breathing against his shoulder—soft, warm, and rhythmic.
The fire burned brightly. A night like this was actually quite nice.
***
The second half of the night arrived.
Murakami Takuya took over the watch. Kitahara Kaede gently moved Tsunade's head from his shoulder to her rolled-up gear, his movents even more careful than when he had set the tripwires.
Tsunade frowned, mumbling incoherently in her sleep. "...Don't steal... my... candy..."
Kitahara Kaede's hand paused. The corner of his mouth twitched, though he didn't actually laugh.
He leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, though he didn't truly sleep, remaining acutely aware of his surroundings.
As dawn approached, the birds in the northern woods stopped singing.
There had been intermittent sounds—tits, nightingales—the usual background noise of the night.
Now, it was all gone.
It was as if sothing had wiped the sound clean from the forest.
Kitahara Kaede opened his eyes and glanced toward Murakami Takuya.
Murakami Takuya was also looking north. Their eyes t, and he gave a slight nod.
Kitahara Kaede reached into his tool pouch.
A light mist began to drift over the stream.
Thirty ters, twenty-five, twenty...
The sound of grass snapping was faint. There was more than one of them.
Kitahara Kaede's right hand flashed out, hurling a shuriken straight toward the north. Simultaneously, he kicked Jiraiya hard in the back.
"Wake up!"
The shuriken struck sothing with a sharp tallic clang.
Blocked.
Figures charged out of the mist. Shadows surged from three directions at once, their blades carving arcs through the air.
Tsunade bolted upright, her pupils constricting. Kitahara Kaede was already at her side.
Murakami Takuya drew his sword.
"Enemy attack!"
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