Chapter 173: Suspended Memories

The room was bathed in dim light.

Only a candle, placed at the center of a low table, cast flickering shadows across the rough stone walls. The flame shimmered across the masks of the three present ANBU, throwing restless reflections like phantoms.

Borei sat upright. Motionless. Hands resting on his knees, his back straight. He didn't look like a boy, despite the young body. Behind the mask, no hurried breath, no sign of emotion. Just stillness.

To his left, Kagero leaned slightly forward, gaze fixed on a still-rolled map. Calm. Silent. As if nothing could unsettle him.

To Borei's right, a slender figure. Agile. ANBU mask concealing her face, dark amber hair tucked beneath her hood. Neither of them knew her, but something in the way she sat — relaxed, almost bored — suggested she was no rookie.

Across from them, the senior ANBU finally moved. He unrolled the map slowly, letting the paper's rustle fill the silence. His gloved hands slid along the worn edges, then pointed to a precise spot.

"Coastal village. Southeast sector. Last sighting was five nights ago."

His finger touched a section between two rocky ridges, not far from a dense, uninhabited forest. The sea lapped that stretch of land like a natural boundary. Remote. Isolated. Perfect for those who don't want to be found.

"When the merchants arrived, there was nothing. No trace. No sound. No bodies. The buildings were intact but… lifeless. This isn't a simple disappearance."

The atmosphere grew heavier.

The woman next to Borei stirred. Not much — just enough to make her voice ring out clearly, decisively.

"If it's just a ghost village, I can handle it alone."

Her tone was direct. Confident. Almost amused. As if the mission were little more than a distraction.

Kagero glanced at her but said nothing.

Borei didn't move. But in his mind, he was already analyzing her: relaxed posture, female voice, that particular hair color, subtle bravado. A name already floated in his thoughts, though not with complete certainty.

The senior ANBU didn't react. He simply continued pointing to other locations on the map.

"The villagers might have been kidnapped, forcibly evacuated… or maybe something made them flee. The truth is, we know nothing."

That's when Kagero spoke, calm but firm."What exactly are we looking for?"

The ANBU raised his gaze. The candle's flame flickered slightly, as if it sensed the weight of the words that followed.

"Your mission is simple: investigate. If there's a threat, identify the source. And…"

A pause. A breath.

"…if you find a culprit, eliminate them. Without hesitation."

Silence.

The woman turned slightly toward Borei but didn't speak. Her gaze was hidden by the mask, but the weight of it was unmistakable. As if she were trying to size up her teammates based solely on how they breathed.

Kagero stood, adjusting his cloak."When do we leave?"

The senior ANBU closed the map with a decisive motion."Immediately."

Outside, the rain had begun to fall. Slow, rhythmic. The sound of footsteps on wet stone was all that remained after each of them left the room, one by one.

First, the woman's shadow.

Then Kagero.

Lastly, Borei.

Behind the mask — no emotion.

°°°

Night had fallen without warning.

Among the twisted branches and sagging reeds, the makeshift camp of Team Suiren stood like a blurred reflection of civilization in the middle of nowhere. The chakra torches gave off a faint, trembling light, dissolving into the thick fog. The fire Shinji had lit burned lazily, fed by damp wood that crackled with effort.

"Shin, take first watch," Suiren ordered as she tied her travel cloak.

The boy nodded silently, always composed, like he'd been carved from wood. Shinji peeked from beneath his blanket with an exaggerated sigh.

"And here I was dreaming of a dry tent and a feather pillow… but no — mist, mosquitoes, and night shifts. The noble art of the shinobi…"

Kurara chuckled softly, adjusting her sleeping bag with slow, uncertain hands — as if part of her mind was elsewhere. Suiren watched her for a moment, then looked away.

No words.

Soon, silence claimed the camp.

Only the slow breathing of those asleep and the distant croaks of frogs echoed through the humid night. Kurara rose for her watch, draped her cloak around her, and picked up a small chakra torch, pacing in circles with quiet steps.

The ground was soft, damp. The air heavy with the scents of rot, stagnant water, and moss.

She walked silently, until she heard light footsteps behind her.

She turned.

Kyōro. He was there, just a few steps away. His face half-hidden in shadow, his hood soaked with humidity. In his hands, something small.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you," he said quietly.

Kurara tilted her head slightly. "What are you doing awake?"

He showed a small sealed scroll. "These… I believe they're yours. I found them near the spot where you stopped earlier this afternoon."

Kurara took a breath, her gaze locked on the scroll.

"I didn't lose anything."

Silence.

Kyōro didn't react at first. For a moment, he almost seemed surprised. Then he bowed slightly.

"I see. Must've been a mistake."

He turned slowly, retreating to his place with silent steps, vanishing among the trees' shadows.

Kurara stood still for another minute. The scroll was gone along with him. But she didn't care. That look… that line… she didn't like either of them.

Across the camp, beneath his blanket, Shinji's eyes were half-open.

He was pretending to sleep, but he had heard everything.

He muttered softly to himself.

"That guy… I'm keeping an eye on him."

—

At dawn, the swamp looked exactly as it had the night before: motionless, silent, suffocating.

The group set off again, their legs sinking into the mud, careful steps placed along rotting walkways.

"According to the map, there are two paths to reach the high-ground area," Suiren said in a neutral tone. "We'll take the main one. It's safer."

But Natsui stepped forward.

"If I may… I know a secondary path. Longer, but more interesting. There are zones I normally wouldn't be allowed to explore without an escort. This would be a unique opportunity."

Suiren turned to him. Studied him for a moment.

At the back of the group, Shinji muttered, "Oh, perfect. Onward to more mysterious puddles."

Kurara simply crossed her arms, watching Natsui with a doubtful expression.

Suiren sighed. "Fine. But if we see anything suspicious, we return to the original path."

Natsui nodded with a smile. "Thank you. You won't regret it."

Coastal Village – ANBU Outpost

The rain had stopped just recently.Puddles reflected a dull, milky sky. The smell of salt, wet wood, and seaweed mixed with something more bitter — decomposition.

Borei moved in silence, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sharp.The village looked like it had been abandoned for months, yet everything was in place.Nothing stolen.Nothing broken.Boats still docked. Nets rolled up on posts.

A silence that was too... tidy.

Behind him, Ame had already grown bored of looking around. She skipped from rooftop to rooftop with near-theatrical ease.Kagero, as always, watched. Calm. Listening.

Borei stopped before a half-open door. He placed his hand on it.

A sharp pain suddenly pulsed through him.

At the base of his skull — like an electric shock.A flash through the fog.He clutched his head.

A sound.Just one.A monitor… a breath… something.

And then, darkness.

 Central Hospital of Kirigakure – Two years earlier

White was everywhere.

But for Ren, newly awakened, all that white felt unreal.

The sharp smell of antiseptic tickled his nose. He tried to move, but his body responded sluggishly. Every limb felt heavy. His arms were bandaged. His chest wrapped in gauze. His breathing — deep, labored.

Beside him, a figure.

Doctor Imizu sat on a low stool. His hands rested on his knees. He had been watching Ren for a while.

"Welcome back."

Ren stared without speaking. His eyes just barely open. Dazed.

Imizu leaned forward, picking up a clipboard.

"Ren. You've suffered extensive trauma. Burns. Repeated electric shocks. One week ago, your heart stopped — twice. But you're still here."

Ren?

His gaze drifted — to the walls, the ceiling — then back to the doctor's face.

"Can you hear me?" Imizu asked, cautiously.

Ren opened his mouth slowly. His voice was hoarse, broken.

"Where… am I?"

Imizu inhaled softly.

"Kirigakure. Hospital. You were found after the third-year exam. Do you remember…?"

Silence.

Kirigakure? Not Konoha?

Ren furrowed his brow. Then gave a slight shake of his head.

"Not everything…" he murmured.

Imizu jotted something down.

"Your nervous system endured extreme stress. The lightning strikes… were repeated. It's possible some neural pathways have temporarily been disrupted. Some memories… may be confused. Or missing."

Ren closed his eyes for a moment.Then he opened them again.

No fear.Only a silent question in his eyes.

Imizu saw it. But said nothing.

He stood, leaving the notepad on the table beside the bed. Then turned back one last time.

"You still have time. To heal. To remember who you are."

And left.

Ren remained still.

The beeping of the heart monitor merged with the sound of rain tapping softly against the window.

Coastal Village – Present

Borei rose, breathing heavily.

The pain had faded, but the unease remained.Like a shadow retreating just beyond the threshold of memory.

"Tsk…" he muttered.

Kagero approached with slow steps."Are you alright?"

Borei nodded.Ame called from a rooftop, "Hey, if you're gonna puke, do it away from me."

Borei said nothing.

He just stared at the village.

The Next Morning – Mizuashi Swamp

The mist had thinned slightly, revealing slivers of gray sky between the twisted branches above the swamp.

The group moved early.

Their footprints from the day before had nearly vanished, washed away by the night's rain, but Natsui seemed to know exactly where to go.He walked ahead with a confident stride, ancient map scrolls in one hand and a walking stick in the other.

"That was a decent bivouac," he said — more to break the silence than anything. "Rarely sleep well in places like this."

Shinji yawned dramatically."Decent? I dreamt a toad stole my food. Turns out it was just Shin snoring."

"I don't snore," Shin replied flatly.Then turned to Natsui, "How far till we reach the destination?"

"Not far, if we stay on the marked path. But…" Natsui paused, glancing back, "I might suggest an alternative."

Suiren halted.

Her gaze was a blade — measuring before cutting."An alternative?"

Natsui nodded."I noticed we're approaching a zone that, according to older maps, was restricted during the early years of Kirigakure's founding. I never thought I'd get this close... but with you here..."

Kurara tilted her head slightly."You found something?"

"Perhaps. Nothing confirmed. But there are ruins. Old ones. Undocumented officially. There might be symbols, carvings... stories. Even if they don't relate directly to the mission, they could help complete a portion of my research. And maybe…" he added, glancing at Suiren, "they might offer clues about how smaller villages were absorbed into the Mist's central structure in the early years."

Suiren didn't respond right away.

She turned to the others.

Shinji shrugged."As long as there aren't any wasp-infested trees to climb, I'm in."

Shin gave a slow, cautious nod.

Kurara studied Natsui with a more open look.There was something about the man that put her at ease.Maybe the gentle way he treated ancient things. As if every ruin still had a voice worth listening to.

Suiren finally spoke.

"We won't stray too far. And if there's the slightest sign of danger, we go back to the main path."

Natsui smiled, full of gratitude."You'll have my full attention."

The group resumed their march.

The chatter was light — scattered between complaints about the swamp's thick mud and Shinji's jokes about soggy rice being a biological weapon.

Meanwhile, Natsui shared fragments of local legends.None too detailed.None too long.But each word left a trace behind, like echoes of a past slowly closing the gap between what was… and what still lingered.

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