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Hisato stood before the door, his heart pounding as his mind raced with the anticipation of what was to come. It had been years since he last stood face to face with the man inside, once a trusted ally of his son. Hisato's grip on his crutch tightened. He had avoided this confrontation for too long, but now, with his renewed sense of purpose, he was determined to get the answers he needed.

When the door creaked open, Hisato moved swiftly. The man barely had time to register who it was before Hisato's genjutsu took hold. The illusion wrapped around the man's mind like a vice, his body freezing in place. Hisato didn't waste a moment; he stepped inside the small house and closed the door behind him, the faint click echoing ominously in the quiet room. The light was dim, casting shadows over the furniture and walls. Hisato's cold eye swept across the room, but he focused solely on the man before him.

Without saying a word, he tied the man's hands and feet, securing him to the chair in the center of the room. Once the ropes were in place, Hisato released a portion of the genjutsu, just enough to let the man regain some awareness.

The man blinked in confusion, his eyes wide with panic as he slowly realized the situation. Hisato loomed over him, his face a mask of cold fury. "We're going to have a little talk," Hisato said, his voice as cold as ice.

The man's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his body shaking with fear, but Hisato wasn't moved. His time for sympathy had passed long ago. Now, he was here for answers, and he would use every skill at his disposal to get them.

For hours, Hisato worked the man over, dragging him through nightmarish illusions. The room around them flickered and warped as Hisato cast genjutsu after genjutsu, each one more terrifying than the last. The man screamed, his voice cracking with the strain of his fear as he was plunged into a living hell. Fire engulfed him, drowning him in its flames. His limbs were twisted and torn apart by invisible forces, his body racked with pain. Hisato showed no mercy, intensifying the agony with each passing minute, forcing the man to relive his worst fears.

But it wasn't enough to break him. Not yet.

"Tell me the truth," Hisato demanded, his voice low but filled with malice. "Tell me why my son is dead."

The man's breath came in ragged gasps, his face twisted in agony as the genjutsu continued to ravage his mind. "I don't know… I swear, I don't know anything!"

Hisato's eyes narrowed. "Liar."

With a flick of his hand, the room around the man shifted again, this time plunging him into a deep abyss. Darkness swallowed him whole, suffocating him, making him feel as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. The man's panicked cries echoed through the darkness, his mind unraveling under the relentless pressure.

"I'll ask you again," Hisato said calmly, his voice cutting through the man's panic like a blade. "Why did my son die? Who was behind it?"

The man struggled, his voice a broken whisper. "I—I don't know! It was just a mission!"

Hisato's grip on the genjutsu tightened, sending the man spiraling deeper into torment. His screams filled the room, but Hisato didn't flinch. He knew the man was lying, and he wasn't going to stop until he got the truth.

Slowly, over the course of several hours, the man's resistance crumbled. Hisato's genjutsu was relentless, his mastery of the illusion bending the man's reality until there was nothing left but raw, exposed fear. Each layer of the genjutsu stripped away the man's defenses, dragging him further into a world of pain and despair.

Finally, the man broke.

With tears streaming down his face and his body trembling uncontrollably, he gasped out the truth. It wasn't the village that had betrayed Hisato's son. It was someone else. An organization, operating in the shadows, manipulating events for their own purposes. They had orchestrated the mission, using Hisato's son as a pawn in a larger game. The man's involvement had been more than passive—he had known the entire time but had done nothing to stop it.

Hisato's heart pounded as he listened, the truth cutting through him like a knife. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, rage boiling inside him as the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. His son's death hadn't been a mistake. It had been a calculated move by someone with power and influence. Someone who thought they could hide behind the shadows.

"Why didn't you come to me?" Hisato demanded, his voice shaking with fury. "You could have stopped this. You knew!"

The man's voice was barely a whisper, broken by the hours of torment he had endured. "I—I couldn't… it wasn't safe. They would've… they would've killed me."

"Safe?" Hisato spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "My son is dead because of you. And you're worried about your safety?"

Hisato's rage surged, his grip on his kunai tightening as he stared down at the man who had betrayed his son. The years of grief and anger welled up inside him, crashing over him like a wave. There was no more mercy left in him. Only vengeance.

With one swift motion, Hisato's kunai sliced through the man's throat, silencing him forever. The man's body slumped forward, lifeless, as the room fell into a heavy silence. Hisato stood there for a moment, breathing hard, his hand still gripping the kunai tightly.

The answers he had sought had come at a cost, but now he knew the truth. Someone had used his son, and they would pay for it.

As Hisato wiped the blade clean, his mind was already racing. This wasn't over. The people behind his son's death were still out there, hidden in the shadows.

He would make them burn. Damn them.

Hisato sheathed his kunai and left the house without a second glance. His heart was cold with fury, but his mind was clear. He had a mission now, one he would see through to the bitter end.