The rogue-nin moved like he knew the terrain better than his own chakra pathways. One step, and he vanished into the mist; another, and he reappeared atop a slick rock, hand already mid-seal.
"Scatter!" I barked.
A pulse of chakra echoed out from his core, disrupting the surrounding water. The entire cliffside trembled as the ocean surged forward unnaturally. Water Release—high-level. Too fluid to be purely nature chakra; this was tailored, honed. This man wasn't just a rogue—he was trained. Elite.
Haku moved first. His mirrors bloomed out like a shattered constellation, catching the moonlight and reflecting it into the fog in sharp flashes. Kimimaro darted forward between them, his feet barely touching the soaked stone. Suigetsu followed close, shifting into liquid form to ride the rising waves.
I stayed in the back, observing. Listening.
"Namioka," I said quietly through the radio seal woven into my collar. "Water- and wind-natured. Fast seals. Not reckless—just confident."
"Copy," Haku replied. "Mirrors covering south approach. I'll bait."
"Let me cut him," Suigetsu muttered.
"Not yet," I said. "Kimimaro—circle left. Stay low."
No arguments. Everyone moved.
Namioka didn't wait. He flicked through hand signs, then exhaled a cutting jet of water. It sheared across the stone, slicing boulders as if they were silk. Kimimaro vanished behind a rising wall of bone, which splintered into a fan of projectiles and flung toward the source. Each one was precise, directed—not thrown at random.
Namioka ducked under the barrage, but Haku's mirror caught his leg in a flash of icy reflection. For a second, his momentum broke. Just a second.
That was all I needed.
I moved.
Not with flair, not with drama—just enough force and pressure to crack the edge of his focus. A shunshin burst placed me directly in his path. I struck, two fingers toward his diaphragm.
He blocked—barely—but flinched. I felt the pressure surge from my hand into his ribs, disrupting his chakra flow for a heartbeat.
Then Suigetsu arrived.
He burst from the crashing wave behind Namioka like a blade made of vengeance, dragging a cleaver-shaped water sword toward the rogue's back. Namioka twisted in the last second, taking the hit across his arm instead of the spine. Water exploded.
He hissed. "Kiri hounds, huh? Kisame's little pet project."
We didn't answer. We didn't have to.
He leapt back, sliding across the wet stone, blood trailing from his cut. The wound would heal, but slower now—Suigetsu's sword hadn't just cut. It drank.
"You're well-coordinated," Namioka said, voice calm despite the bleeding. "Too clean. You're not ANBU."
"We're something else," I said, stepping forward.
He gave a humorless grin. "Then I'll make sure no one remembers you."
Another surge of chakra. The mist deepened—no, thickened. This was jutsu-induced. The fog wasn't natural anymore.
"Cloak formation," I called.
Suigetsu moved to the right flank. Kimimaro disappeared into the ground. Haku's mirrors slowly sank from view. I stood still, waiting.
My breath slowed. I focused.
Namioka had been in ANBU once. It was clear in his precision. The way he didn't overextend. He knew how to draw enemies out, how to bleed time until reinforcements arrived or enemies grew impatient.
We weren't those enemies.
The moment he struck—his water whip lashing from the fog toward my face—I didn't dodge. I moved into it, letting it brush my shoulder while my arm snapped up and pushed chakra into his technique.
The water turned heavy. Too heavy.
It crashed down prematurely, the technique disrupted.
"Pressure," he growled, recognizing my interference.
"You're not the only one who trained under killers."
Then Kimimaro struck from below.
Bone spears jutted upward through the stone under Namioka's feet. He managed to jump, barely escaping impalement, but Haku's mirror caught him midair. A kunai lodged into his thigh. He cursed and twisted, flinging a series of water shuriken in all directions. They missed—intentionally. A smokescreen.
Then he vanished.
No, not vanished.
Substitution.
"East," I said instantly.
Suigetsu was already moving.
We caught him trying to retreat into the cliffside forest, dragging his injured leg. Suigetsu slammed into him like a battering ram, this time not caring where he hit. They rolled across the wet ground, grappling.
Namioka threw Suigetsu off with a gust of wind chakra, but his stamina was burning fast. He was strong. Tactical. But alone.
Haku reappeared beside me. "He's favoring his left. I clipped a tendon."
"Kimimaro?"
"Waiting below."
Perfect.
"Collapse him."
Haku nodded, then unleashed a flurry of hand seals. The ground near Namioka shattered—Kimimaro burst upward with an eruption of bone, forming a cage around the rogue.
Namioka's eyes widened for the first time.
He tried to release a water dragon, but I was already there.
My hand reached into the water forming around his mouth and flattened it. My chakra forced the structure apart before it could fully shape.
"Enough," I said. "You're finished."
He slumped to his knees, bloodied and exhausted.
But his eyes still burned.
"You think Kisame will protect you from what's coming?"
"I don't care," I replied. "That's not my job."
"You're not just weapons," he said hoarsely. "You're replacements. He's building a new Mist. One with no need for loyalty. Only results."
I stared down at him.
"No," I said. "We're not replacements."
He chuckled, blood spilling down his lip. "Then you're worse."
We bound him. Sedated him. And began the journey back.
The return to Kirigakure was cold and wet, but not silent.
We didn't speak of the fight. Not directly.
"I hate wind-natured users," Suigetsu muttered, flexing a sore shoulder. "They're always slippery."
"Slippery's not the problem," Haku said. "We were clean. Fast. That was a win."
Kimimaro didn't speak, but I could tell from his silence that he was reviewing everything—positions, moves, timings. He'd remember every flaw.
So would I.
Kisame met us at the gate.
He looked us over once. Took in the captured rogue. And smiled.
"Good," he said simply.
We stood there, waiting for more.
But he just turned. "Come. We'll report to the Mizukage together."
"Why us?" Haku asked.
Kisame glanced back. "You've made a mark. Let them see the shape of their future."
We followed.
Behind us, the mist rolled back in.
And the sea held its breath.