The raging yellow sandstorm was kept at bay, yet this bar was as shabby as it could get. Rarely did he enter pces like this—not because of money, nor out of any fondness for the Land of Wind. The real reason he had been assigned here was simple: he knew this pce intimately.

  The bar owner, however, was far from timid. She dealt with anyone—terrorists, influential aides, bck and white alike. Yet seeing a golden-haired boy walk in personally still drew some surprise. Years ago, they had dealings: he delivered bodies, she paid, a brief harmony maintained. But that had ended long ago, ever since she donned the red cloud bck robe.

  “Rare sight… what wind blew you here?”

  The owner, a striking woman named Haruko, was past forty but still alluring, always holding a slim pipe, exuding a worldly aura.

  “Business or not.” His voice was grim and hoarse.

  Deidara, with his youthful, innocent face, pulled a wanted poster from his pocket. “Hey, big sister, have you seen this person? No, these four?”

  “Hehe, such a cute little brother.” Haruko smiled. Her smoke drifted from the pipe, curling across Deidara’s face. He coughed, embarrassed. He wanted to protest, but caught a glimpse of her half-exposed chest and flushed, speechless.

  “Stop pying around,” he said, blocking her teasing. “Have you seen them or not?”

  Haruko exhaled smoke, no longer hiding. “May I know why?”

  “Who delivered the bodies to the exchange? Those people stole our prey.”

  “You… Akatsuki?”

  Akatsuki had gained notoriety in the underworld, yet still hidden from the wider world.

  Deidara nodded. Haruko smiled with admiration. “Impressive people… they actually stole your prey.”

  “Can you speak freely?”

  “I’ve heard… Three months ago, these four brothers’ contracts were canceled. Such a big bounty, and someone beat you to it—I’m helpless,” she said, smoke curling between her fingers. Her regret was obvious.

  Hiryuu’s expression darkened. Three months ago? From the government issuing the canceltion to the Land of Wind, at fastest, half a month would pass. Counting back, it meant Kita had left the vilge three to four days before the four brothers were killed. Yet according to Kakuzu, Akatsuki’s funds didn’t reflect the bounty. She had met trouble earlier than expected.

  “Who collected the reward?”

  “Don’t know,” Haruko shrugged. “Only received the canceltion notice from the Land of Water. Remarkable, killing the four brothers… many fell by their hands.”

  “Have you met this person?” Deidara showed a photo of Kita, her white hair framing a serene profile, a blue silk scarf around her neck.

  “Ah, her.”

  “Seen her?”

  Haruko nodded. “Yes, a few times. Generous, never spoke.”

  “When?”

  “A few years ago, shortly after you joined Akatsuki. Strange woman… seemed decent at first gnce.”

  “Recently?”

  “Not at all. Had you not shown the photo, I’d have forgotten. Is she the one who stole your prey?”

  Deidara pced all the coins from his wallet on the bar. “If you see her, contact me immediately. More will follow ter.”

  “Ah… seems she really angered you.”

  “Yeah… probably.”

  Without turning back, Deidara left. Soon, the bar was empty.

  ——Leader, Kita has likely been missing for nearly four months. Might be trouble.

  ——Understood. All units search who sent the four brothers’ bodies. No one spared.

  ——Land of Water already checked. Next, Land of Fire.

  Phantom Kakuzu reported quickly.

  ——We go to Land of Fire.

  Phantom Itachi interjected.

  Pain frowned coldly.

  ——Doesn’t matter who goes. The mission was temporarily paused. Gather intel, contact me immediately.

  Phantoms vanished one by one. When all disappeared, Pain looked at Konan, standing silently by the wall, and sighed lightly.

  “Don’t worry, Kita is strong.”

  “I know.” Her calm expression was not Konan’s usual. No worry, no fear, no concern—it was as if the missing person were just an unimportant subordinate. Pain could only pat her shoulder seriously, reassuringly.

  “She won’t die. Even if she does, she’ll crawl back alive. I believe in her. So, Konan… trust her.”

  Konan nodded silently, lips pressed together. If not for the pale face, nothing seemed unusual.

  …

  The Third Hokage had lost count of how many times he picked up this Amegakure headband, or the Mizukage Token. Perhaps he always gnced at it after duties, pondering the person and Akatsuki’s connection. Itachi mentioned seeing a non-human in Akatsuki, but only that. The Third Hokage knew little—beyond the Akatsuki’s existence and the red cloud bck robe. This time, the person cked the iconic cloak; the only commonality was the marked headband.

  What’s going on? Could a member of Akatsuki have a Mizukage Token? Is Akatsuki above the Mist Vilge, or is the Mist the true mastermind? If the former, this rogue mercenary group must be eliminated quickly. If the tter, war is imminent. And crucially, who fought Kita, wielding First Hokage secrets and mastering Wood Release techniques so difficult even for Konoha ninjas? All clues centered on one non-human: Kita. But…

  It had been ninety-three days…

  “Bring Ibiki,” the Third Hokage ordered.

  Moments ter, the gaunt, stern-faced man knocked and entered, Amegakure headband and Mizukage Token on the table.

  “Hokage-sama.”

  His eyes were darkened, his body thinner over three months.

  “Any progress?”

  Ibiki’s face was pale, eyes downcast. “Apologies, Hokage-sama.”

  “Even you can’t manage it?”

  For Ibiki, the famed interrogation expert, this admission was hard. The Third Hokage hated to trouble subordinates.

  “I understand. Thank you. You may leave.”

  “…Yes.”

  Ibiki clenched his fists, then left respectfully, striding to the interrogation cell. The smell of burning lingered, mingled with subordinates’ banter—no one could tell the harsh reality within without entering.

  “Cng!”

  The iron door kicked open, startling two subordinates and Kakashi, who read nearby. One, Yura, gleefully held a red-hot horseshoe iron against Sasaki, while the prisoner y bound, bruised, scarred, and steaming from burns. The burnt smell filled the room.

  “Team… Captain?” Yura stammered, quickly returning the iron to the forge.

  Ibiki ignored them, grabbing the prisoner’s bloodied hair. Her pale, emaciated face barely breathed.

  “Bastard! Who fought you?! What’s your connection with Akatsuki?! Why do you have the Mizukage Token? Expin your link with Mist Vilge!!”

  A roar of losing control. Kakashi closed his book, eye observing.

  Kita wanted to ugh, but could only curl her lips. The gesture infuriated Ibiki further, pulling her head against the iron wall, blood flowing freely. Again and again, nearly knocking her unconscious—nearly.

  Then someone intervened.

  “Enough. I’d be upset if she died. Consider it mercy… I’ll buy you grilled meat. No, sushi, eat as much as you want,” Kakashi said.

  Ibiki released her. Kita colpsed, unable to avoid or touch her wounds.

  Yet as relief came, a sharp kick struck her abdomen, one blow heavier than the st—at least enough to rupture a spleen. Silent coughing, blood flowing. Yura had never witnessed a captain so ruthlessly venting in interrogation. The original intent—extracting information—was lost.

  “Team, Captain—”

  A whisper, ignored. Ibiki nearly insane, frenzied beyond reason.

  “Forget it, Yura. She’s driving me mad. Sasaki, call Ishihara. Death would be troublesome.”

  “Yes,” Sasaki responded, running. Kakashi pced his book over his face, thinking: he had assisted in interrogations before, but this was extreme. Both prisoner and interrogator reach limits; someone breaks or goes mad. Ibiki teetered at the edge.

  The beating sted too long to measure in minutes. Once Ibiki began panting, Kakashi knew it was time. Indeed, Ibiki’s exhausting venting consumed far more energy than a normal battle.

  “Who… are you?! Who fought you, the Wood Release ninja?! Tell me!!”

  Still alive. Dedicated med-nin Ishihara noted that with internal injuries—spleen, kidney, broken ribs—she would survive; the repeated traumas were routine.

  “Captain, she can’t endure musculoskeletal torture now. She’d die.”

  “Out!” Ibiki shouted. Ishihara trembled, retreating. For the entire interrogation unit, the captain was a nightmare.

  Kita could move now. After treatment, pain was irrelevant. Prolonged, extreme agony numbs nerves. She sat up, bones partially healed; without intense movement, they’d recover.

  Naked, cross-legged, her blood-stained white hair nearly obscuring its color. Scars marred her once fair skin.

  Ugly, revolting.

  Kita curled her lips, trembling, signing a series of messages. Kakashi observed, sighing softly.

  “Kakashi… what did she say?”

  A flicker of surprise in Ibiki’s eyes.

  “Nothing.”

  Kita’s smile widened. Looking at Ibiki, her sapphire eyes shone like sunlight, bright and radiant.

  A punch, blood spttered.

  “Kakashi!!! Tell me!!!”

  “She said nothing. Food-reted, nothing to do with intel.”

  Blood-stained fingers, enough ink in her spit to write. Kita tried to make neat, strong strokes—shaky, ugly, yet clear.

  ——You lost.

  She wanted to ugh, but couldn't. She widened her smile, bending over, lungs hurting, coughing blood onto the crimson text, blurring victory, blurring you and me.

  Extreme joy turning into sorrow.

  “Yura.” Ibiki’s face is as dark as a volcano.

  “Y-Yes?”

  “Fuck him.”

  “What?!” Habitual address cshed with disbelief. Ibiki grabbed Yura’s colr. “Insult! Or any word! Understand?!”

  “Yes! Yes!” Trembling, fearful, his response allowed Ibiki to release him. Kakashi looked up, noticing disgust in Yura, contempt in Kita.

  Yura pale, Sasaki minimized presence, cornered, even scared to breathe.

  Yura blushed…

  “Ugh—”

  Dry heave. The command pushed the eighteen-year-old to retch.

  “Sorry, Captain… can’t do it. Deduct my pay… too disgusting…”

  With tears, he ran from the room. Kakashi still heard his whimpering.

  Kita’s eyes squinted, smiling—not like the interrogations of three months prior. The smile mocked Yura, Sasaki… no, the whole world.

  “Trash.”

  Ibiki, face grim, continued actions alien to the pce.

  Kakashi sighed. Some of his peers really go all out.

  “No need to force yourself this far. For her, it wouldn’t matter anyway,” Kakashi said calmly. Ibiki stopped.

  Indeed, disgusting.

  “Calm, Ibiki. She’s provoking you. No victory yet. Insult? Even naked in a cell, no one would lust. Even if her face is somewhat pretty.”

  Ibiki fastened belt, pants. Kakashi rexed. He had no interest in this sexual dispy—it was stomach-turning.

  “Tonight, let’s drink.” Kakashi comforted. He saw Kita smile again. Sighing under the mask, the prisoner now held initiative. She’s truly strong.

  “Are you ughing? What’s so funny?!”

  Irritated, Ibiki whipped Kita hard, pain forcing her to the floor. Face buried in blood, unseen, twisted in agony.

  Konan… this is the body you wanted.

  ━━━━ ? ━━━

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