An abandoned lighthouse.
Kitahara Kaede sat leaning against the wall, an intelligence scroll resting by his side. The sea breeze swept in, heavy with the scent of salt and brine.
He had arrived early.
Over the past few years, he had t with Pakura seven or eight tis, and the routine had rarely changed. Either Pakura contacted him directly, or he would take a solo mission out of the village and head toward this region, at which point Pakura would naturally appear.
What had changed were the smaller things.
In the beginning, Pakura would take the scroll and ask about four basic points: the source of the intel, whether he had been exposed, the movents of the high-ranking officials, and whether his strength had drawn unwanted attention. After that, she would leave him with a curt "Stay safe" and vanish.
Then, there was a ti when he arrived with an injury on his arm, and she lingered for an extra glance.
"Don't co to a rendezvous slling of blood next ti," she had said, before imdiately snapping the conversation back to the mission.
Later still, after finishing their business, she began to pause for a few seconds longer.
"Did your previous injury heal?"
After asking, she would seem to trip over her own words and turn away, walking faster than usual.
Kitahara Kaede rembered it all.
The sound of footsteps approached.
Pakura entered through the lighthouse entrance. She was wearing the sa black backless outfit, her green hair tied up in a bun, the lines of her shoulder blades etched clearly against the moonlight.
She ca to a halt and scanned the room, her gaze landing on Kitahara Kaede leaning against the wall.
"You initiated the eting?"
She paused for a beat.
"Did sothing happen?"
"No."
Pakura nodded and walked over, extending her hand.
"The scroll."
Kitahara Kaede handed the intelligence scroll to her. Pakura unfurled it, skimming through it by the moonlight.
The first section: ANBU rotation records for the Mist Village over the last three months.
The second section: An analysis of mission flow.
The third section: The contraction of external military deploynts.
She flipped through quickly. When she reached the middle of the third section, her pace slowed.
"The Mist Village won't be engaging in large-scale external warfare in the short term?"
"Correct."
"Reasoning?"
"After the death of the Third Mizukage, the volu of overseas missions has dropped, and internal ANBU transfers have increased. The Third Mizukage's old subordinates are being broken up and reorganized; the sa groups are no longer deployed consecutively. The Seven Ninja Swordsn have suffered heavy losses, and instead of replenishing their elite external forces, the Mist Village is pulling its manpower inward."
He paused.
"They're overhauling the ranks."
Pakura didn't respond and continued flipping. When she reached the latter half, her finger stopped.
The second half didn't contain information about the Mist Village.
It contained the instructions Kitahara Kaede had received from Sunagakure over the last three months. He had highlighted every single one of them, attaching his own assessnt beside each.
*Investigating gaps in ANBU shift changes—Solo operation, no cover identity.*
*Testing the political stance of a certain forr subordinate of the Mizukage—If the target becos suspicious, there is no backup.*
*Infiltrating the archives of the newly reorganized ANBU—Failure ans the entire line is exposed.*
At the very bottom, he had written a single sentence:
"The risk of the above instructions has doubled within three months. Extraction plan: None."
Pakura closed the scroll. Her movents were soft, but her expression was grim.
"What do you an by this?"
"Exactly what it says," Kitahara Kaede looked at her. "The risk of every mission is rising. But there's nothing afterward. No backup, no cover—nothing."
He paused.
"Were you aware of these instructions?"
Pakura didn't answer. But her silence was an answer in itself.
"I'm the least valuable pawn on this line; Sunagakure wouldn't blink if I were replaced," Kitahara Kaede's tone remained flat. "But if they don't even care about the pawns, do you think they care about the people in the middle?"
Pakura's eyes turned cold.
"You are questioning the village."
"I'm doing the math."
"You aren't in a position to do that math."
"Pakura," Kitahara Kaede's voice didn't waver, "The intel gets handed in, the agent dies in the Mist Village, and Sunagakure just buries another one..."
A flash of cold steel.
A kunai was pressed against the side of his neck. The edge of the blade rested against his skin, icy cold.
Pakura's hand was steady. The heat of the Scorch Release began to rise from her other palm. The air inside the lighthouse grew dry.
Her voice turned dry as well.
"Say that again."
Kitahara Kaede didn't move. The kunai pressed a fraction tighter against his throat.
He raised his hand. Slowly.
From the tool pouch at the small of his back, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it up between them.
Pakura stared at the paper but didn't take it. She didn't withdraw the kunai either.
"Take a look," Kitahara Kaede said.
Pakura unfolded it with one hand.
It was a simplified route map.
The abandoned lighthouse was the starting point. The reef zone, the old fishing paths, and the northeast tidal lows were all marked in ticulous detail.
It noted exactly what ti the tide was lowest, which reef blocked the sentries' line of sight, and which sections of the old fishing path would leave no footprints after being washed by the sea. Two blind spots in the Mist Village's ANBU sentries were circled in red, with their shift-change tis noted beside them.
At the very end was a narrow line that barely skimd the edge of the Sensory Barrier, with the optimal ti for crossing marked.
Pakura's gaze lingered on the map for a long ti. The kunai moved away from Kitahara Kaede's neck.
She didn't speak.
She knew exactly what this was.
An evacuation route.
And it hadn't been drawn in a single day. Every peripheral map he had provided during their etings, every sentry ti he had extra-marked... today, it had all been pieced together into a complete line.
And this line was prepared for her.
Pakura gripped the paper, remaining silent for a while.
It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it. On the night he had asked, "Do you have an evacuation route?" she had returned to her safehouse and sat in the darkness, these very thoughts flashing through her mind. She had scouted the blind spots in the reef zone herself, and she knew the tidal patterns. With her experience, drawing a viable evacuation route wouldn't have been difficult.
But she hadn't drawn one.
Ninjas of Sunagakure do not plan retreats. They take the mission and execute it. If they succeed, they return; if they fail, they die in the field.
This was the conviction she had held since the day she first donned her forehead protector. She had crushed the idea of a retreat just as she crushed every other thought unrelated to the mission.
And yet, a subordinate had...
Pakura folded the paper. She didn't put it in her clothes, but held it tightly in her hand.
"Did you do this..." she paused, "on orders?"
"Who else would give orders but you?"
Pakura was silent for a few seconds.
"Don't do unnecessary things in the future."
She returned the kunai to her waist. The Scorch Release dissipated, and the air beca humid once more.
Kitahara Kaede touched his neck.
Pakura glanced at him. He was now half a head taller than he had been two years ago. His shoulders had broadened, and while he still had the contours of a youth in his face, the aura he projected was no longer that of a child.
At fourteen, his eyes were deeper than those of most adult spies she had ever encountered.
"You've grown taller recently."
As the words left her mouth, she paused, surprised by her own comnt.
Kitahara Kaede looked at her.
"I'm getting older."
Pakura looked away. As she walked toward the lighthouse entrance, the mist began to pour in from outside.
"If you die, this line will break."
"Mm."
Pakura didn't look back.
"Stay safe."
"You too."
Her footsteps paused for a single beat, and then she vanished into the mist.
Kitahara Kaede stood where he was. He waited until the sound of her footsteps had completely disappeared.
He touched his neck; the skin hadn't been cut.
In any normal intelligence network, the words he had just spoken would have been enough for a handler to kill their agent on the spot. For a subordinate to question the village was no different from defection.
She hadn't acted. The kunai had co out, the Scorch Release had flared, but in the end, she had withdrawn.
It was simply that when she heard those words, she hadn't been able to deny them imdiately.
She had hesitated.
Even if only for a split second.
Kitahara Kaede turned and began walking toward the Hidden Mist.
She hadn't tucked the route map into her clothes, but she hadn't given it back either.
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