Predator and Prey |12

[6175 Words]

Afternoon stretched long over the mountains. 

The heat had settled into the stone, making the air shimmer faintly over the dry ground. The wind was slow, brushing lazily through the sparse trees, carrying the distant sounds of movement. 

Not from them. 

From their prey. 

Yasu sat crouched behind an outcrop of rock, eyes sharp, breath steady. From this vantage point, he could see everything—the clearing below, the uneven terrain beyond, and, most importantly, the pair approaching from the north. 

They took the bait. 

The clone sat against the base of a tree, body positioned just right. Slumped slightly, head tilted down, as if exhausted. One of their scrolls was visible, resting beside the clone's leg—unguarded, left in the open. 

A perfect lure. 

The two approaching students had slowed. They were cautious but tempted. Yasu could see it in the way they exchanged glances, hesitating just slightly before inching closer. 

"Good. That hesitation will cost them." 

From beside him, Daichi shifted slightly. His patience wasn't as practiced—he wanted to move. To strike now. 

But Yasu didn't give the signal. Not yet. 

Not until it was perfect. 

He didn't blink, mind already running through the next ten steps. 

If they attack immediately, they'll go for the clone first. The instant they realize it's fake, confusion will follow. A two-second window. We move then. I'll take left. Daichi right. 

If they hesitate instead, I let them think longer. Let them creep closer, let them reach for the scroll. The moment they touch it? We strike from behind. 

If they split up, if one stays back— 

There. 

The boy moved first, stepping closer, confidence overtaking caution. He crouched low, fingers stretching toward the scroll— 

"Now." 

Yasu moved. 

Fast. 

He was on them in seconds, feet barely making a sound against the dirt. He didn't need to look—Daichi was already moving too. Following without hesitation. 

The girl saw them first. 

She barely had time to shout before Yasu's hand snapped forward. 

A kunai clashed against hers, forcing her backward. He twisted, already expecting the counter. Her kick came high—he ducked under it, pivoting smoothly, his next strike aimed clean at her center. 

She staggered, caught off guard. 

The boy wasn't as lucky. 

Daichi slammed into him hard, the force of the tackle sending them both tumbling. Dust kicked up as Daichi pinned him, fist already swinging. The boy managed to twist at the last second—but not fast enough. 

A solid hit. 

Yasu didn't look away, but he noted it. Not bad, Daichi. 

The girl gritted her teeth, eyes darting toward where the scroll had been— 

Only to find it gone. 

Yasu twirled it between his fingers, gaze calm. Completely in control. 

Her face fell. 

"That's mine!" she snapped, lunging. 

Yasu sidestepped effortlessly, catching her wrist mid-motion, twisting just enough to throw her off balance. She stumbled—a half-second of vulnerability. 

And Yasu finished it. 

His foot dug into the earth, chakra pressing deep. The ground rippled, stone shifting— 

The moment she stepped back, the earth moved with her. 

In a single motion, stone erupted, wrapping tightly around her ankles, then her wrists. She barely had time to gasp before the jutsu locked her in place. 

Trapped. 

Yasu exhaled. 

That was too easy. 

Daichi stood over his opponent, victorious but scowling. "Tch—weak." He rolled his shoulder before looking at Yasu, eyes flickering toward the scroll. 

"We've got three now." 

Yasu twirled it once more, nodding. Satisfied. 

"Three down. Twenty-seven to go."  

. . . . . . .  

The sun hung lower in the sky now, its golden light stretching long over the mountains. The air had cooled slightly, and the wind had picked up, stirring the dry leaves scattered across the uneven terrain. 

It had only been a few hours since they'd taken their third scroll. 

And already, they were on to the next. 

But this time? 

They weren't just hunting for necessity. 

This was for fun. 

Yasu had noticed them first—a pair moving through the trees, voices raised. He and Daichi hadn't even needed to track them; their targets had practically announced their own location. 

"—I told you we should've gone west!" 

"And I told you that west would've led us into a dead-end!" 

"Yeah? Well, we're still lost, so whose fault is that?!" 

Yasu and Daichi crouched behind the thick roots of an old tree, listening, watching. 

Daichi smirked. "Easy targets." 

Yasu hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe. Let's see what we're working with first." 

The two students—a boy and a girl—stood a few feet apart, both clearly frustrated. The boy was tense, arms crossed, his face twisted into a scowl. The girl had her hands on her hips, eyes sharp, mouth moving a mile a minute. 

And more importantly? 

Two scrolls, both secured in plain sight. 

Daichi's smirk widened. "So, what's the plan this time, strategist?" 

Yasu tilted his head, considering. 

Then—an idea. 

He turned to Daichi, eyes gleaming with mischief. "We take them without them even realizing what happened." 

Daichi blinked. "…Alright. I'm listening." 

Yasu's fingers tapped lightly against his knee, mapping it out in his head. "We don't attack them directly. Not yet. Instead, we… join in." 

Daichi frowned. "Join in…?" 

Yasu gestured toward the arguing pair. "They're already frustrated. We can make it worse." 

Daichi stared at him for a second. Then—slowly, his grin returned. 

"Oh," he said, eyes flashing. "I like this plan." 

. . . . 

. . . . 

Yasu and Daichi stepped out from behind the trees—calm, casual, as if they belonged there. 

The two students immediately snapped their heads toward them, bodies tensing, hands twitching toward their weapons. 

But Yasu just sighed, shaking his head. 

"You're both wrong," he said. 

The boy blinked. "…What?" 

Yasu folded his arms. "You're both wrong," he repeated. "West would've been a dead-end, but east isn't any better. If you'd gone north, you'd be near the river by now." 

The girl narrowed her eyes. "And how do you know?" 

Yasu shrugged. "Because we already passed it." 

The boy scowled. "So what? You're just here to rub it in?" 

Daichi jumped in, leaning against a nearby tree like he had all the time in the world. "Nah," he said lazily. "We just wanted to see how long it would take before one of you threw a punch." 

The girl crossed her arms. "Not gonna happen." 

"Shame," Yasu murmured, eyeing their scrolls. 

And then—they moved. 

Not with weapons. Not with jutsu. 

With words. 

Yasu tilted his head toward the boy. "You're the one carrying both scrolls, right?" 

The girl immediately turned. "What?! Why are you holding both?!" 

The boy tensed. "Because someone has butterfingers and nearly dropped them in the river earlier!" 

The girl glared. "That was one time!" 

Yasu smirked. "Seems unfair," he said, voice smooth. "What if he loses them? Then you fail too." 

The girl whipped around. "Give me one." 

"What?! No!" 

"You always do this! You don't trust me with anything!" 

Daichi had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. This was too easy. 

While they argued, Yasu moved. 

Quick. Precise. 

The moment the scrolls were exposed, Yasu's fingers snatched them away—so seamless the boy didn't even notice. 

Not until— 

"Wait." The boy froze. His hand darted to his pouch. 

Then his face paled. 

The girl stopped too, eyes widening. "…Where are they?" 

Yasu twirled the scrolls between his fingers, unbothered. 

"Oh," he said lightly. "You mean these?" 

Silence. 

Daichi grinned. "Oops." 

The boy whirled on them. "You—" 

"Too slow," Yasu said smoothly, stepping back. 

The girl cursed loudly. The boy lunged forward— 

But Yasu and Daichi were already gone. 

Five Scrolls. 

Daichi laughed, breathless, as they darted through the trees, the thrill of the moment still buzzing in his chest. 

"That," he gasped between chuckles, "was brilliant." 

Yasu, a step ahead, smirked. "Told you." 

Daichi let out another laugh, shaking his head. He couldn't even be mad. The setup, the execution—it had been perfect. 

"Okay, okay," Daichi said, grinning despite himself. "I'll admit it. That was way more fun than just fighting." 

Yasu hummed. "Hmm. Maybe I should've planned something even more elaborate." 

Daichi shot him a look. "What, a full stage production? Should I have done dramatic reenactments?" 

Yasu snorted. "With your acting skills? We'd lose all credibility." 

Daichi shoved his shoulder. "Shut up. I'd make an excellent performer." 

Yasu didn't even flinch. "Sure. If you're playing the role of 'guy who lost his scroll first day.'" 

Daichi stared. 

Then barked out another laugh. 

He wasn't even mad. Not really. 

They slowed their pace, the rush settling into something lighter. 

Daichi glanced at the five scrolls in Yasu's hand. "You think we can take all of them?" 

Yasu didn't answer immediately. 

Instead, he looked down at the scrolls, thoughtful but amused, before his smirk returned. 

"Let's find out." 

And this time, Daichi didn't feel like arguing. Not even a little. 

As they slowed their pace, weaving through the trees with five scrolls secured, Daichi was still grinning, riding the high of their last heist. But then his expression shifted—eyes narrowing, mind working. 

"Hey," he said suddenly, "what if we took it even further?" 

Yasu raised a brow. "Further?" 

"Yeah." Daichi turned toward him, face animated, the gears clearly turning in his head. "Like—okay, we already made them fight each other with just a few words. But what if we didn't just turn them against each other?" His grin widened. "What if we became them?" 

Yasu blinked. Then he actually stopped walking. 

Daichi smirked, seeing that flicker of intrigue in his eyes. "Ohhh, now I have your attention." 

"…You're suggesting we use Henge?" 

"Yeah. Think about it!" Daichi gestured wildly. "We pick a team. Replace one of them. Make them doubt everything. Confuse them so bad they don't even know which one of them is real anymore. And when they finally start throwing punches?" He whistled, grinning. "We watch it all fall apart." 

Yasu exhaled through his nose, tilting his head. "Can you even use Henge?" 

Daichi scoffed. "Of course I can. What about you?" 

Yasu flexed his fingers absently. "I can." 

Daichi grinned, triumphant. "Perfect." 

Yasu's lips twitched. 

Now this was interesting. He had planned to simply test his abilities—see where he stood against his peers. But so far, no one had been good enough to force him to try. The first pair? Barely even a warm-up. They were too slow, too predictable. 

But this… this had potential. 

"This might actually be fun," Yasu admitted, a rare glint of excitement in his eyes. 

Daichi let out a bark of laughter. "That's the spirit, genius." 

Yasu's eye twitched. "Stop calling me that." 

"Nope." 

"Daichi." 

"Nope." 

Yasu sighed, shaking his head, but there was no real annoyance in his expression. Instead, he gave Daichi a long, considering look, then— 

"I should give you a name too." 

Daichi paused, suddenly wary. "Wait—" 

Yasu's smirk returned. "I'll make it fitting." 

Daichi narrowed his eyes. "If you call me something stupid, I swear—" 

"I would never." 

"You absolutely would." 

Yasu didn't deny it. 

Daichi groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, fine, whatever. But if it sucks, I will retaliate." 

Yasu just hummed, already lost in thought. 

A name fitting for Daichi, huh? 

He'd think of something. 

But first— 

They had a plan to set in motion. 

. 

. 

. 

The plan was simple—on the surface. But that was what made it so effective. 

Yasu and Daichi crouched low behind the undergrowth, eyes locked on their next targets—two boys standing in a clearing, both gripping their scrolls tightly. One of them, a wiry kid with sharp features, glanced around warily while his stockier teammate muttered something under his breath. They were alert. Cautious. 

Good. It meant their trick would be all the more satisfying. 

Daichi nudged Yasu. "Alright, which one do you want?" 

Yasu considered them, then pointed toward the sharp-featured one. "Him." 

"Cool, I'll take the other guy." Daichi grinned. "Alright, genius, show me what you got." 

Yasu resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead formed the hand seals. A soft poof of smoke, and in the next second, an identical copy of the wiry boy crouched where he had been. 

Daichi whistled. "Not bad. My turn." He mimicked the hand signs, and a second puff of smoke revealed an exact replica of the stockier boy. 

They exchanged nods. Then, without hesitation, they strode into the clearing, shoulders squared, expressions unreadable. 

The real boys turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. 

"Hey," Daichi—disguised as the stockier boy—called out. "We've got a problem." 

Sharp-Features frowned. "What do you mean?" 

"Them." Yasu jerked a thumb behind him. "They've been following us." 

The two boys exchanged confused glances. "Who?" 

"You," Yasu said flatly. 

A flicker of uncertainty passed over their faces. 

"…What?" the stockier boy asked, sounding genuinely bewildered. 

Daichi crossed his arms. "Nice try. We knew you were up to something. Splitting up to flank us? Bad move, by the way. Real obvious." 

Sharp-Features' frown deepened. "What are you talking about? We never split up." 

"Of course you'd say that." Yasu sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. 

The boys exchanged looks again, suspicion creeping into their expressions. 

"Okay, hold on," Sharp-Features said, stepping forward. "What proof do you even—" 

Yasu struck. 

Lightning-fast, he lunged—aiming not for the real enemies, but for Daichi. 

Daichi reacted instantly, blocking the attack with a dramatic clash of forearms. They grappled briefly before breaking apart, glaring at each other. 

"What the hell?!" Daichi barked. 

Yasu scowled. "You hesitated. Just like I thought." 

The real boys stiffened. 

"Wait, wait," the stockier one muttered. "This—this doesn't make sense." 

Sharp-Features was already shifting into a defensive stance. "Which one of you is real?" 

Daichi scoffed. "That's exactly what I'd ask if I were a fake." 

Yasu smirked inwardly. Perfect. 

Confusion spiralled into paranoia. Doubt flashed in their eyes. The uncertainty made them hesitate—and hesitation was all they needed. 

Then, chaos. 

The real boys attacked each other. 

Sharp-Features, already on edge, threw a hasty punch—only for his stocky teammate to dodge, eyes wide with betrayal. 

"What the hell, Kaito?!" 

"You flinched!" 

"You—You just flinched!" 

"Liar!" 

A second later, they were swinging at each other, form sloppier than before, their teamwork shattered. 

Daichi had to physically cover his mouth to keep from laughing. 

Yasu took advantage of the distraction, darting forward like a shadow. A precise strike to the stocky one's wrist sent a scroll flying into the air. He caught it effortlessly. 

Daichi, still grinning, slid in low, sweeping Sharp-Features' legs from under him before yanking the second scroll from his belt. 

The two boys, panting, wide-eyed, only then realized what had happened. 

By then, it was too late. 

Yasu and Daichi stood a few feet away, their disguises dispelled, holding up their new scrolls. 

"Thanks for the entertainment," Daichi said cheerfully. "You guys were great." 

Sharp-Features' face twisted in fury. "You—!" 

But they were already gone, slipping into the trees before the boys could even think of retaliation. 

They didn't stop running until they were sure they weren't being followed. 

Daichi wheezed, hands on his knees. "Holy crap—that was amazing." 

Yasu hummed, twirling the scroll idly between his fingers. "I have to admit," he mused, "that was well-executed." 

Daichi straightened, beaming. "See? Genius tactics." 

Yasu shot him a glare. 

Daichi smirked. "What?" 

Yasu sighed. "You refuse to stop calling me that, don't you?" 

"Yup." 

"…Fine." Yasu exhaled slowly, then gave Daichi a long, calculating look. 

Daichi blinked. "…What?" 

Yasu tilted his head slightly. "You remind me of a monkey." 

Daichi's smile froze. 

"…What?" 

"You're loud. Eager. Good at climbing. Occasionally clever." Yasu smirked. "Yeah. A monkey." 

Daichi looked personally offended. "That's not a cool nickname." 

"It's fitting." 

"No, it's not! Call me literally anything else." 

"No." 

"Yasu—" 

"It's decided." 

Daichi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "This is revenge, isn't it?" 

Yasu's smirk widened. 

Daichi groaned louder. "I hate this." 

"Then we're even." 

And with that, Yasu walked off, leaving Daichi standing there, grumbling under his breath. 

Still, even as he complained, a small grin tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Because, monkey nickname aside— 

That had been fun. 

Seven scrolls now. 

. 

. 

. 

The sky had darkened into a deep navy blue, the last remnants of daylight fading behind the tree line. The air had grown colder, biting at their skin with the promise of an even chillier night ahead. They were on their second day out here—five more to go. 

Yasu moved soundlessly through the forest, sharp eyes scanning for any sign of small game. His breath fogged faintly in the cooling air as he knelt by the roots of a tree, fingers brushing over faint paw prints in the dirt. Fresh. He could track this. 

Behind him, a loud crunch echoed. 

Yasu sighed. "Daichi." 

A muffled response came from above. "Mm?" 

Yasu turned, looking up to see Daichi perched on a low-hanging branch, legs swinging as he happily munched on a handful of berries. His cheeks were stuffed like a squirrel's. 

Yasu narrowed his eyes. "You gave up already?" 

Daichi swallowed exaggeratedly. "I'm conserving energy." 

Yasu pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're stuffing your face." 

"Same thing." 

Deciding it wasn't worth arguing over, Yasu turned back to his tracking—until he caught sight of Daichi reaching for another bush, this one filled with berries different from the ones he'd been inhaling. 

Casually, Yasu said, "Those are mezurashi berries. Poisonous." 

Daichi froze mid-grab. He stared at the berries in his hand, then at Yasu. "…Are you serious?" 

Yasu raised a brow. "No, I'm lying to you for fun." 

Daichi immediately flung the berries away like they'd burned him. "You could've warned me faster!" 

"I did warn you." 

"Yeah, but I almost ate them!" 

Yasu exhaled, crossing his arms. "You shouldn't be blindly grabbing anything that looks edible. What if I wasn't here? Would you have just keeled over in the middle of the forest?" 

Daichi grumbled, kicking at the dirt. "Well, I am here with you, so it's fine." 

Yasu gave him a flat look. "That's not the point." 

Daichi huffed, crossing his arms. "I bet you don't even know which berries are safe to eat." 

Yasu blinked. "I do." 

"…Oh." 

Silence. 

Then, with forced casualness, Daichi muttered, "…So what else is poisonous?" 

Yasu smirked slightly. Now he asks. 

"Mezurashi berries cause nausea, dizziness, and eventually paralysis," he began. "They're found near damp areas and look similar to haname berries, which are actually safe to eat." 

Daichi scowled. "So some berries that look like those are fine, but others make you die?" 

"You wouldn't die. Just suffer." 

"Oh, great." 

Yasu continued, "Some mushrooms are fine, but others will cause hallucinations or worse. Wild roots can be eaten if prepared right, but some will shut down your organs. You need to pay attention." 

Daichi groaned dramatically. "Why is nature so complicated?" 

"Because it weeds out idiots." 

Daichi shot him an unimpressed glare. "Thanks, genius." 

Yasu rolled his eyes. "Stop calling me that." 

"Then stop calling me Monkey!" 

Yasu smirked. "No." 

Daichi groaned. "You picked the worst possible nickname!" 

"It's fitting." 

"No, it's not! You're just petty." 

Yasu tilted his head. "Then why do you keep calling me 'genius'?" 

"…That's different." 

"How?" 

Daichi opened his mouth. Closed it. Then grumbled, "It just is." 

Yasu chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Monkey." 

Daichi pointed at him accusingly. "One day, I will come up with a worse nickname for you." 

"You already tried. You're bad at it." 

Daichi groaned louder. "I hate this." 

Yasu turned back to his tracking. "Good. We're even." 

As Daichi continued grumbling behind him, Yasu couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement. The forest was cold, the nights long, and the days exhausting—but with Daichi around, at least he wouldn't be bored. 

. 

. 

. 

The sun had barely risen, it was the next day. 

The morning air was crisp, the forest alive with the rustling of unseen creatures. Footsteps barely disturbed the fallen leaves as Yasu led the way, his pace swift yet controlled. 

His gaze flicked between the ground and the trees, taking in every snapped branch, every misplaced footprint. Two people. One heavier, the other lighter. Moving fast but not careful enough. He followed the trail with ease, every detail painting a clearer picture in his mind. 

Behind him, Daichi groaned under his breath. "We've been running forever. Are we—" 

Yasu abruptly raised a hand. Daichi immediately shut up. 

Yasu stilled. He felt it. 

More than one. 

His sensing ability pulsed like a ripple in still water, picking up on faint chakra signatures. Not just the pair he had been tracking—there was another group. And they were moving toward them. 

They're following us. 

Daichi shifted impatiently but caught himself before speaking. He wasn't stupid. He could tell Yasu had gone completely still for a reason. His eyes darted around the trees, his muscles tensing. 

Yasu's mind worked quickly. He could outrun them—but that left them vulnerable to being chased down. Fighting them head-on was reckless when they had no idea what they were up against. 

But if they don't know we're onto them… 

An idea clicked into place. 

Yasu smirked, turning slightly to Daichi. "We're changing plans." 

Daichi frowned. "What do you—" 

Yasu moved before he could finish, leading them into a sharper turn through the trees. Their pursuers wouldn't immediately notice. But instead of running from them, Yasu adjusted his path toward the original group he had been tracking. 

Daichi caught on. "Wait. You're—" He grinned. "Oh. You're leading them straight to each other." 

Yasu nodded. "Let them deal with each other first." 

Daichi let out a low whistle. "You're scary sometimes." 

Yasu ignored the comment, pushing ahead. The two groups were moving toward each other. He and Daichi were the hidden factor—the ones neither party would expect. 

And then, finally—contact. 

The first group came into view just as the second one emerged from the shadows behind them. 

Confusion flickered between the two groups. Their sudden face-off was unexpected, and for a brief second, neither side made a move. 

That second was all Yasu needed. 

From the cover of the trees, he tossed a small rock. It landed between them with a faint thud. 

Instantly, tension snapped. 

"Who the hell are you?!" one of the students barked. 

"We should be asking you that." 

It spiralled quickly from there. Accusations. Mistrust. The two groups, already wary of each other, were now fully on edge. 

Yasu smirked. Perfect. 

Daichi grinned beside him. "They're gonna fight." 

"They will." Yasu's eyes gleamed. "And we'll be there to clean up." 

And just like that, it happened. One wrong movement, one misstep, and the two groups clashed. The fight erupted into a blur of fists and steel, their focus entirely on each other. 

That was when Yasu and Daichi struck. 

Slipping in like shadows, they attacked at the perfect moment—knocking out one exhausted fighter, stealing a scroll before another could react. Chaos turned to confusion, and soon, it was over. 

Almost. 

Because the remaining two turned on them. 

A boy, taller than most of their class, stood in front of Yasu, his stance sharp, eyes burning with challenge. His teammate faced Daichi. 

Yasu grinned. Finally. Someone interesting. 

Then they moved. 

The boy was fast. Faster than Yasu expected. His first strike cut through the air, and Yasu barely evaded, twisting just out of reach. 

Not bad. 

Yasu countered instantly, his movements fluid. A feint, a kick to the ribs, forcing the boy to stumble—but he recovered quickly, lashing out with a fierce punch. Yasu blocked, but the force sent a dull ache through his arm. 

Stronger than the others too. 

But not stronger than him. 

The fight escalated. Dodging, countering, striking—each move calculated, neither giving an inch. The boy was good. Better than anyone Yasu had fought before in this exam. 

But Yasu was better. 

He leaped back, hands flicking. Shuriken flashed through the air, a blur of silver. 

The boy dodged the first—but not the second. Or the third. 

Thin cuts bloomed across his arms, his legs, his side. He staggered; breath heavy. 

Yasu exhaled, rolling his shoulders. It's over. 

The boy gritted his teeth, gripping his kunai—but before he could move again, Daichi's opponent hit the ground, knocked out cold. 

Yasu smirked. "Looks like your friend's down." 

The boy hesitated, his grip tightening—then, finally, he cursed under his breath and dropped his stance. 

Daichi walked over, wiping his forehead. "You done?" 

Yasu glanced at the boy, who was panting, bleeding, and glaring at him. 

"Yeah," Yasu said simply. "I'm done." 

They took the scroll and left, disappearing into the forest once more. 

Daichi stretched. "Man, that was fun." 

Yasu glanced at him, amused. "Tired already, Monkey?" 

Daichi scowled. "Stop calling me that." 

Yasu hummed in thought. "What about… Chatterbox?" 

"I hate you." 

Yasu smirked. "That's a yes." 

Nine scrolls. 

More hunting to be done 

. 

. 

. 

The night was heavy with silence. The moon hung low in the sky, as four figures stood in the clearing. The air was crisp, cool, but there was no peace here—only stillness, tight and coiled, like a wire pulled too taut. 

Yasu and Daichi faced them, shoulders squared, breaths even. 

Ren and Sumire stood opposite them, bodies set in rigid fighting stances. Their eyes gleamed sharp in the dim light, expressions tense with something neither Yasu nor Daichi had seen directed at them before. Not anger. Not even resentment. 

Determination. 

Yasu's grip on his kunai tightened slightly. 

"Eleven scrolls, huh?" Ren said, his voice quiet, measured. "That's what they're saying." 

Daichi smirked, twirling a kunai between his fingers. "News travels fast." 

Sumire scoffed. "You've made sure of that." Her stance never wavered, but her grip on her weapon flexed ever so slightly. "We've been hearing about you two nonstop. You're not even trying, they say. Just playing around." 

Yasu didn't respond. He didn't have to. It was true. 

"And you think that's funny?" Ren's voice sharpened, cutting through the cold. "Some of us are actually taking this seriously." 

Daichi's smirk widened, but there was something different about it now. Less amusement. More edge. "We are taking it seriously," he said. "That's why we have eleven scrolls, and you—" his eyes flicked to their belts, "—have two." 

Sumire's jaw clenched. "That's exactly it." She took a step forward, eyes locked on Yasu's. "We've fought tooth and nail for these, while you two just… talked your way through half your battles. People think it's smart—" her lip curled, "—I think it's insulting." 

Ren stepped beside her, his stance shifting. The tension in his body was different than Sumire's—it wasn't frustration, it was challenge. "I don't care what anyone else says," he murmured, eyes never leaving Yasu's. "But I do care about this." 

A pause. 

Then— 

"Fight us." 

Daichi let out a low whistle. "No games, huh?" 

"No games." Sumire's gaze burned. "No tricks. No mind games. No running circles around us like we're too stupid to see it." 

Yasu exhaled slowly, tilting his head. "So you'd rather lose in a straight fight?" 

Ren's eyes flashed. "We'd rather test our limits against people who actually matter." 

Yasu stared at him for a long moment. Then, without a word, he slipped into a stance. 

Daichi grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Alright, alright. You want a fight?" He glanced at Yasu, something sparking between them in unspoken agreement. "Let's give them a fight." 

And just like that— 

The night exploded into motion. 

The first clash of steel shattered the quiet, followed by the sharp crack of impact as Yasu parried Sumire's strike with ease. Sparks danced in the moonlight as his kunai flicked hers aside, the force of the deflection sending a shock up her arm. She barely flinched, already twisting, already moving, launching another flurry of strikes. 

Fast. Precise. Relentless. 

But Yasu was faster. 

He moved like water, seamless and fluid, blocking each attack with the barest effort. His expression remained unreadable, eyes calm as he analysed her every motion. Sumire had always been strong—stronger than most in their class. But against him? 

It wasn't enough. 

She knew it too. Knew that this fight was already slipping away from her. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. 

This wasn't about winning. 

This was about proving herself. 

Proving that she belonged on the same battlefield as him. 

A low exhale left her lips as she pivoted sharply, kunai flashing under the moonlight before she lunged. Yasu sidestepped, but this time—this time she was ready. 

Her hand slammed into the earth. 

"Doton: Ganseki Shotto!" 

The ground beneath them trembled before jagged stones shot upward, aiming for Yasu in a deadly barrage. 

The attack was fast. 

But he was faster. 

Yasu's foot dug into the dirt, and with a flicker of chakra, the earth beneath him exploded. The sheer force launched him backwards, out of the attack's range. He landed smoothly, skidding across the ground as the rubble settled. 

For the first time since the fight started, Yasu smiled. 

"Good," he murmured, fingers flexing. 

Then, in a blur of motion, he rushed her. 

Sumire barely had time to react before he was on her, kunai slashing toward her side. She twisted, deflecting just in time, but the impact sent her stumbling back. 

Yasu didn't let her breathe. 

The air cracked as he weaved signs—"Doton: Retsudo Tenshō." 

The earth lurched beneath them, and before Sumire could steady herself, the ground at her feet shifted, dragging her balance out from under her. She hit the dirt, rolling to avoid the follow-up strike that embedded Yasu's kunai inches from where her throat had been. 

She had never fought him like this before. Had never seen him like this before. 

So untouchable. So effortless. 

It made her want to push harder. 

Gritting her teeth, she flung herself forward, forcing Yasu onto the defensive for the first time. Her strikes grew wilder, unpredictable—feints, sudden shifts in tempo, even a backhanded throw of her kunai mid-combat. 

For a second, just a second, she almost had him. 

But "almost" didn't matter against Yasu. 

His body twisted at the last second, the kunai grazing past his cheek, drawing the faintest line of blood. His first injury of the match. 

Sumire barely had time to register it before she felt cold steel press against her neck. 

The world slowed. 

The fight was over. 

A single line of blood trickled down from where his kunai bit into her skin—not deep, just enough to sting. Yasu held it there, his grip steady, unreadable eyes locked on hers. 

Sumire swallowed. Her heart pounded in her chest, body still thrumming with the fight. But she knew when she'd lost. 

A slow breath. 

"I admit defeat." 

Yasu withdrew his blade. 

Sumire exhaled, her body relaxing slightly as she stepped back, hands dropping to her sides. Her pride stung, but… she had no regrets. 

That was the best fight she'd ever had. 

A short distance away, the battle between Ren and Daichi had already reached its conclusion. 

Ren was slumped forward, panting, one arm cradling his ribs where Daichi had flattened him minutes ago. His clothes were torn, dust clinging to his skin, and his kunai was no longer in his grasp—because Daichi was twirling it idly in his fingers, grinning down at him. 

"You should've seen that coming," Daichi said cheerfully. 

Ren let out a breathless laugh. "Screw you." 

Daichi snorted, tossing Ren's kunai to the side before making his way back to Yasu. 

The air was different now. 

The tension had bled out of the clearing, replaced by exhaustion, respect, and the simple reality of the results. 

Yasu looked down at the two extra scrolls in his grasp. 

Thirteen. 

"We're done here," he said simply. 

Sumire and Ren didn't argue. 

Daichi stretched, groaning. "Man, that was fun. Think anyone else will give us a challenge?" 

Yasu didn't answer. 

Instead, his gaze flickered to Sumire one last time. She met his eyes, something unreadable flashing through her expression. 

Then she smiled—small, tired, but satisfied. 

Next time. 

Yasu's lips twitched slightly. 

Next time. 

And with that, he turned, vanishing into the night with Daichi at his side. 

They were long gone from the clearing now, swallowed by the quiet of the forest, but Daichi was still ranting. 

"That was pathetic," he grumbled, kicking a loose stone as they walked. "I mean, seriously. Seriously. If those two were the best challenge we've had, then this whole damn exam is a joke." 

Yasu said nothing. 

Daichi wasn't finished anyway. 

"I don't get it. Do these people not train? Did we just get lucky being born competent? I mean, come on! We've fought, what, six different teams now? And not one—not one—of them has been an actual threat." 

Yasu adjusted the scrolls in his grip, gaze forward, unmoved. 

Daichi threw his hands up. "We have thirteen scrolls! Thirteen! You know what that means? It means we're better than thirteen whole teams put together! That's not even counting the people we left standing because they weren't even worth taking scrolls from!" 

Yasu exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. 

"And you—" Daichi jabbed a finger at him, frustration bleeding into disbelief. "—what the hell was that back there? You barely even broke a sweat! How?! That fight should've drained you at least a little!" 

Yasu didn't look at him. "It was a standard fight." 

"Standard?!" Daichi gawked at him like he'd just insulted his ancestors. "That wasn't standard. That was you being an absolute monster! You weren't just reacting to Sumire, you were anticipating her, like you already knew what she was gonna do before she did it! And the jutsu! How the hell do you know so many jutsu already?!" 

Yasu glanced at him, expression unreadable. "I learned them." 

Daichi stared, then groaned loudly. "Oh wow. Thanks. That's so insightful, I feel enlightened now." 

Yasu's lips twitched slightly. 

Daichi huffed, crossing his arms. "No, but really. You're seven." He threw a hand in the air. "Seven. And you've already got, what, Earth Release, Lightning Release, sensory abilities, and God knows what else tucked up your sleeve? That's not normal, Yasu." 

Yasu shrugged. "It is for me." 

Daichi scoffed. "Yeah, obviously. But it's insane. It took me months just to get down six techniques, and that was only because my older brother actually took the time to drill them into my head." He shot Yasu a look. "Who the hell taught you? No one! You just—what? Read a scroll once and magically figured it out?!" 

Yasu didn't answer. 

Which was an answer. 

Daichi ran a hand down his face, groaning. "I hate you." 

"You don't," Yasu said idly. 

Daichi scowled. "I hate how unfair you are." 

Yasu hummed, vaguely amused. 

Daichi side-eyed him, then muttered, "Your chakra should be low by now." 

Yasu glanced at him. "It's not." 

"It should be." 

"It's not," Yasu repeated simply. 

Daichi gave him a long, disbelieving stare before groaning again and shoving his hands in his pockets. "You're not human. You're a freak of nature." 

Yasu just kept walking. 

Daichi huffed, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. You should be exhausted, but nope. Not Yasu. Yasu's built different." 

Yasu exhaled, amused. 

Daichi clicked his tongue. "Whatever. One day, you're gonna run out of chakra, and I'm gonna be there to watch you finally suffer." 

Yasu smirked. "Sure, Monkey." 

Daichi whipped around, glaring. "Stop calling me that!" 

Yasu kept walking. 

Daichi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "This is actual hell." 

And yet, despite all his complaints, he kept following, because Yasu was Yasu—freak of nature or not. 

And Daichi would rather keep up with him than be left behind. 

As Yasu and Daichi continued through the forest, the air shifted. Yasu paused, his chakra flaring instinctively. Something was wrong. 

There wasn't anyone nearby—no chakra signatures within range. And yet… 

His body was trembling. Not from exhaustion. Not from adrenaline. 

Fear? 

No. Not fear. 

Something was watching them. 

Someone was right here. 

He turned sharply, grey eyes scanning the trees. Nothing. But that was the problem—there should have been something. His sensory abilities pulsed outward, searching for an answer. 

Then, he felt it. 

Faint. Distant yet close. A presence concealed, like a ripple beneath still water. 

"Yasu?" Daichi's voice broke through the tension. "What is it?" 

Yasu's breath was steady, but his fingers curled tight around his kunai. "There's someone here." 

Daichi stiffened. "Where?" 

Yasu didn't answer. 

Because the moment he tried to pinpoint the presence, his mind wavered. The air itself seemed to bend, his thoughts slipping—no, being pulled. Like something was trying to wrap around him, dull his senses, steal his will. 

Genjutsu. 

But it wasn't working. 

Not completely. 

Yasu could feel it trying to take hold, but his mind remained intact. He blinked, dispelling the creeping sensation. His high yin chakra was too strong for it to take root, but the attempt alone sent a chill down his spine. 

The enemy wasn't trying to kill him. 

They were trying to take him. 

"Daichi—" 

A rush of wind. 

Too fast. 

Too close. 

Yasu barely had time to react before something struck him from behind. His vision blurred. His body refused to move. 

His last thought before the world went dark— 

We weren't alone.