[A/N: This was a tough chapter for me to write. Feel free to comment if you noticed anything wrong.]
Chapter 54: Hidden Hand
The wind rustled faintly through the trees lining the outskirts of the outpost. Shin stood motionless by the outer wall, his presence veiled by the subtle mastery of ROOT's training. Even among the sharp-eyed shinobi stationed here, no one gave him a second glance—just another faceless figure on a routine patrol.
But his mission had never been routine.
Embedded at the outpost under Danzo's orders, Shin's identity was hidden behind forged documents and a fabricated service record. Officially, he was a low-tier auxiliary ninja—unimportant, replaceable. Unnoticed.
In truth, he'd been stationed here months in advance with a single objective: to ensure the safe passage of crates delivered by undercover ROOT operatives disguised as traveling merchants.
Shin's role was to facilitate from the shadows—guaranteeing the operatives passed through undetected. He'd scouted the terrain, mapped guard rotations, and most crucially, planted explosive tags along the outpost's perimeter to create a timed diversion.
Everything was meticulously timed. When the ROOT merchants arrived, the charges would detonate, diverting patrols and drawing attention from the gates—just enough chaos for them to slip through unnoticed.
Then Kenshiro's squad was reassigned to the outpost—an unexpected variable in an otherwise perfect plan. Sensing tension within the command structure, Hideo reassigned Shin to a different sector. Not enough to make him useless, but enough to complicate his movements.
Still, Shin adapted. That was what ROOT trained him for. On the night of the operation, he waited in the shadows near the eastern sector, watching, ready to intervene if anything went wrong.
And something had.
He felt it before he heard it—the sudden surge of chakra, sharp and unmistakable.
"Hold it right there!"
Kiyoshi's voice cut through the air like a kunai—too close to the eastern corridor. Too early.
They'd been discovered.
Shin's jaw clenched, though his expression remained unchanged. He reached for the concealed comm-seal woven into the threads of his wrist wrap and activated it with a pulse of chakra.
Change of plans. Rendezvous compromised. Proceed with crate extraction immediately.
He sent the message to the ROOT agents stationed outside the outpost—those designated to receive the crates. They had been waiting in the forest. Now, they would have to move in early and retrieve the cargo directly, before it fell into enemy hands.
The mission was unraveling.
And Shin had a choice: step out of the shadows to protect it—or let it collapse under the weight of an unexpected prodigy.
The plan was falling apart.
Shin gritted his teeth from the shadows as he watched the undercover merchants—his fellow ROOT operatives—locked in combat with Kiyoshi's team. The eastern corridor, which should have been clear, erupted into a blur of chakra and steel. The explosions hadn't created enough of a distraction. The patrols hadn't diverted.
This was no longer a stealth operation.
Shin had no choice.
The plan had been simple: the ROOT infiltrators would pass through quietly, dropping off the crates at a rendezvous point beyond the ridge. Shin's role was to support from afar—setting charges, watching the handoff. But with Hideo's last-minute reassignment following Kenshiro's squad arrival, even that became tenuous.
Still, Shin had prepared contingencies.
He had already sent the fallback signal to the operatives outside once the infiltration was compromised. They would intercept the crates if the handoff failed.
But now it was worse.
Kiyoshi wasn't just fighting—he was dismantling them, one by one.
Shin's eyes narrowed behind his mask as he watched the boy parry strike after strike with unnerving grace. The merchant operatives didn't stand a chance. If captured and interrogated, the entire operation would unravel.
He couldn't let that happen.
With a breathless exhale, Shin stepped from the shadows.
The moment his foot hit the dirt, Kiyoshi's head snapped toward him. Their eyes met.
The boy knew.
And so did Shin—he couldn't afford restraint.
He lunged forward in a blur, his first strike aimed squarely at Kiyoshi's jaw—quick, precise, designed to knock him unconscious.
But Kiyoshi was already moving.
The strike missed by inches as he bent back with impossible fluidity. Shin flowed into a spinning kick, then a low feint to the ribs.
Still, Kiyoshi slipped through his attacks like water through cracks. Every blow was dodged with perfect timing, every opening Shin aimed for closed before he could reach it.
He's reading me, Shin realized. Every twitch, every shift—he's tracking it all.
He ramped up the pressure, pouring aggression into every move. No weapons. Just pure, honed taijutsu.
But it wasn't enough.
Kiyoshi ducked a hook, rolled under a sweeping leg, twisted away from a palm strike as if he had choreographed the entire sequence himself.
This isn't normal.
Frustration bled into desperation. Shin's movements grew sharper—but sloppier.
Then, it got worse.
Another figure joined the fight—the rogue faction guard who had taken down Daichi earlier. Shin recognized him instantly. With him, they could trap Kiyoshi.
Or so he thought.
Kiyoshi only moved faster. Between two opponents, most shinobi would fold. But he danced through their attacks like a whisper in the wind. Shin struck high while the guard went low—but Kiyoshi was never where they aimed.
What kind of training…?
Then it happened.
Kiyoshi's rhythm shifted. Just for a moment.
Shin felt it—the stance change. The surge of killing intent.
And then Kiyoshi struck.
Shin barely registered the blow—a brutal palm to the chest that launched him across the corridor. He slammed into the ground, gasping, muscles screaming.
The rogue charged next—and met the same fate.
From the dirt, Shin could only watch.
Kiyoshi was relentless.
Spinning. Ducking. Striking. His movements were a storm distilled into human form. Shin's vision blurred. He staggered to his feet—barely.
Kiyoshi was already there.
A devastating uppercut. A spinning kick. A tree cracked as Shin's body slammed into it.
The world blurred.
The rogue tried once more. A desperate charge.
Kiyoshi dismantled him—caught the wrist, disarmed the dagger mid-air, slipped behind the guard before his body could even react.
Strike. Strike. Silence.
Shin lay on the ground, half-conscious, chest heaving.
No... we can't be captured…
Kiyoshi stood alone.
Calm. Breath steady. Unscathed.
As Shin slipped into darkness, a single thought echoed through his mind:
This wasn't just a boy.
This was something else.
---
Shin's consciousness flickered, but didn't fully fade. Pain kept him tethered. He felt his limbs bound, chakra sealed, his body dragged across the dirt by unfamiliar hands. When his vision cleared slightly, he saw Daichi and Ryota overseeing the scene, ensuring none of the captured operatives could escape.
They didn't see him stir.
Kiyoshi and Mikoto had already left—moving swiftly toward the outpost to alert the authorities. Ryota insisted they go while he and Daichi secured the prisoners.
But Shin knew—felt—it wasn't over.
Then they arrived.
Silent as fog, swift as blades—ROOT shinobi emerged from the treeline. Dozens of them, masked and motionless, surrounding the clearing in perfect formation.
Daichi shifted, hand to his weapon. Ryota stood tall, calm—but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease.
ROOT said nothing at first.
The forest held its breath.
Then a single operative stepped forward. His presence radiated authority. A red slash marked his mask—ranked.
His voice was cold, clinical—yet reverent.
"Release the captured rogue shinobi," he ordered, eyes locking with Ryota's. "This is under Lord Danzo's direct command."
He tossed a scroll to the ground. It landed softly, but the implications were thunderous.
Ryota didn't flinch. But Daichi's brow furrowed. The name alone unsettled him.
Commander Hideo stepped forward, frowning.
"What is this? Why are you interfering?"
The ROOT operative's voice didn't waver. "You have no jurisdiction here. These shinobi are to be released. Lord Danzo's orders are absolute."
The name silenced everyone. It wasn't just a command. It was a shadowy decree, spoken from the hidden core of the village. Its weight was unquestionable.
With visible reluctance, the bindings were loosened. Daichi's eyes stayed locked on the ROOT agent. Ryota's grip never relaxed.
Even free, the tension lingered.
Without another word, the ROOT agents acted—efficient and merciless. They retrieved the crates and vanished into the forest like wraiths.
Shin, barely conscious, felt himself dragged with them—back into the dark.
As silence returned, only one truth remained:
Danzo's hand was everywhere.
And it moved in shadows.