Kurenai Yuhi was already exhausted and had collapsed onto the ground.
Though Asuma Sarutobi and Aoki Kawaki weren't in as dire a state, they were clearly too tired to move. The two leaned against a large tree, trying to recover their strength.
Watching the trio in silence, Shinku Yuhi observed them thoughtfully. Though he didn't speak, he was mentally evaluating their performance.
Traveling non-stop had indeed taken a toll on these three, all of whom had graduated from the Ninja Academy only a year ago. But this was deliberate—Shinku Yuhi had intentionally pushed them hard.
He had been silently watching their behavior along the journey. First was Asuma Sarutobi, who had consistently stayed alert to their surroundings. Though his vigilance had waned slightly toward the end, his overall awareness was commendable.
Then there was his own daughter, Kurenai Yuhi. Thanks to his early and strict tutelage, she had surpassed the average genin in genjutsu proficiency. However, she was still slightly behind both Asuma and Aoki Kawaki—especially Kawaki, whose talent was exceptional—and Asuma, who had grown up with excellent resources and training as the Third Hokage's son.
Moreover, like Shinku himself, Kurenai's talents lay primarily in genjutsu. Being physically less robust than the boys, she tired more easily. Still, the fact that she persevered until now, and even remembered to scan her surroundings before collapsing, earned her a passing mark in his book.
But it was Aoki Kawaki who truly surpassed Shinku Yuhi's expectations.
Shinku had paid close attention to the boy—not out of favoritism, but because Kawaki was blind.
Initially, Shinku thought he would need to assist Kawaki frequently. Yet, Kawaki's repeated demonstrations of skill pushed Shinku's expectations higher and higher. Eventually, he couldn't help but test him.
What he discovered was nothing short of astonishing.
A few days ago, Kurenai had told him that Aoki Kawaki's combat ability was on par with an average shinobi. Shinku had assumed she was exaggerating. Now, he realized she had actually understated the truth.
When they increased their pace after leaving Konoha, Kawaki kept up effortlessly—never needing prompting, never missing a beat. The only explanation Shinku could conceive of was sensory ninjutsu.
Later, while crossing treacherous mountain terrain, Kawaki followed precisely in the footsteps of Kurenai and Asuma—placing his feet only on the branches they had stepped on.
Shinku knew that standard sensory jutsu could detect chakra signatures, but what Kawaki did went beyond that. He could even differentiate between tree branches—without sight.
It was just as Kawaki had once claimed: though he had lost his eyes, his remaining senses had sharpened to an extraordinary level, allowing him to "see" the world in a way others couldn't.
Such talent was—
Shinku paused. What word could possibly describe someone like this?
A miracle. Yes, in the world of shinobi, where sight played a crucial role, for a blind genin to function with such clarity and perception—it was nothing less than miraculous.
After resting for a while and eating, Shinku made a decision: they would spend the night here, resting at least until midnight.
Soon, they would leave the Land of Fire behind. Once they entered the Land of Rivers, unforeseen dangers could strike at any moment. The trio would need to be in peak condition.
---
Transit Station
That night, Shinku did not assign a watch rotation. Instead, he volunteered to keep guard himself.
The day's travel had drained the three genin. Their pace had been far beyond what was normal for their rank. Knowing they could rely on a jonin like Shinku to protect them, they quickly found thick branches and dozed off without worry.
Under normal conditions, they would have chosen a well-hidden spot and slept lightly, staying ready for sudden danger. But Shinku's presence gave them rare peace.
After ensuring the trio was asleep, Shinku found a nearby branch and sat quietly. As the forest around him settled into the rhythm of night, he recalled the special instructions given to him by the Hokage before the mission.
Though this journey served to give Aoki Kawaki a safe escape for a time, there was always the risk of ambush.
Judging by the intelligence reports from Sunagakure, there was a growing likelihood that the Sand might cause trouble—perhaps even restart hostilities.
A new war wasn't out of the question.
That is to say, in addition to their officially assigned mission, the team was also responsible for gathering intelligence on suspicious movements within the Land of Wind. If they discovered that Sunagakure ninja were harboring hostile intentions toward Konoha, they were to relay the information back to the village immediately.
Although entrusted with such a crucial mission by Hiruzen Sarutobi himself, Kurenai Yuhi didn't feel overly burdened.
After all, this task was supplementary. The Hokage had issued the same directive to numerous other teams operating in the Land of Wind and the Land of Rivers.
From prior experience, even if Sunagakure intended to instigate conflict, it would take time to prepare for war. After all, the scars of the Second Shinobi World War had yet to fully heal.
The other great ninja villages, besides Konoha, had not even fully replenished their shinobi ranks since the last war.
As for the earlier warning he gave to the three younger members about the dangers of traveling through the Land of Rivers and the Land of Wind...
Kurenai Yuhi believed that instilling vigilance in young ninjas was necessary. And he hadn't lied — in the shinobi world, smaller countries could indeed be more perilous than larger ones due to the lack of oversight and stability.
Thus, under Kurenai's cautious supervision, most of the night passed in relative peace.
In the early hours of the morning, around one o'clock, Kurenai roused the three genin to resume their journey.
Thanks to sufficient rest, Aoki Kawaki and the others had recovered much of their stamina. Under cover of darkness, the four-man squad crossed the border into the Land of Rivers.
However, they did not march directly toward the Land of Wind. Instead, they made a deliberate detour toward the area bordering the Land of Rain.
Given their time buffer, they used the opportunity to conceal their identities thoroughly. There was no immediate threat of war, so there was no need to rush as if their lives depended on it.
By daybreak, they arrived at their designated transit point — Tsuchigahara Castle.
Though nominally located within the Land of Rivers, Tsuchigahara was very close to the border of the Land of Rain.
Despite its reputation for being dirty, chaotic, and impoverished, the city was a haven for hidden talents and lurking dangers.
Wandering samurai, mercenary shinobi, and missing-nin from various villages often passed through or hid here.
Along the way, Aoki Kawaki and Asuma Sarutobi had spotted more than one rogue ninja.
That's right — the team had split into two pairs to avoid attracting attention. Traveling as a standard four-man cell would have stood out too much.
At the moment, Asuma and Kawaki had adopted disguises. They no longer looked like shinobi, but more like orphaned wanderers.
Asuma wore weathered, pre-prepared clothes, a medicine basket slung across his back, and held a staff as he guided the "blind" Kawaki.
Together, they looked like siblings — an older brother from the Land of Rain guiding his blind younger brother to the Land of Wind to sell herbs.
Although Asuma's mature demeanor made him seem older than he was, his height made it obvious he was still a child.
To complete the illusion, they had even entered Tsuchigahara from the direction of the Land of Rain, encountering several travelers along the way.
Their act was convincing, blending in with the crowd seamlessly.
Recalling the address Kurenai Yuhi-sensei had given him, Asuma wandered the city a few times before locating the meeting point.
His detours were deliberate — a new face acting too confidently would immediately draw suspicion.
Still, in a place like Tsuchigahara, new faces weren't rare. This city never lacked transients.
Prosperity Street — a name both plain and ironic — was their destination and the operation's next stage.
Though outdated in name, many of the people bustling about were "wealthy" by civilian standards — merchants who had found moderate success.
Most were small-time traders. Those involved in larger-scale commerce typically hired elite ninja for protection and avoided places like this entirely.
This was one of the reasons Tsuchigahara attracted so many rogue and freelance shinobi. Small-time merchants often banded together and hired these unaffiliated ninjas for escort missions to towns in the Wind or Fire Country.
Both major nations and their respective shinobi villages turned a blind eye to this arrangement. They understood these merchants couldn't afford official protection and that local trade relied on such escorts.
And so, these shadowy operators thrived in the gaps between the system.
"Hey! Are you heading to the Wind Country? Take us with you!" Asuma shouted as he approached a departing caravan.
His sudden outcry caused the group to pause and look in his direction.
"We're headed the same way. I can protect you on the road," he said confidently.
"Huh? It's just a kid," muttered a better-dressed middle-aged man who stepped forward from the group.
"You want to come with us? Fine. Show me 1,000 ryo and I'll let you two tag along."
Arrival
"What a joke. I don't have that kind of money on me to pay you," Sarutobi Asuma barked at the merchant caravan, his voice intentionally loud and mocking. "And I'm a ninja. I can protect you along the way. You should be grateful I'm not charging you a commission."
In truth, he had a mere thousand ryō tucked away. But with his current alias and the remote location, flashing that much cash would only raise suspicions. Even an idiot would sense something was off.
"Where did this brat crawl out from, daring to call himself a ninja?" a gruff voice cut in.
A man wearing a battered ninja flak jacket stepped forward. Notably, he bore no forehead protector—likely a missing-nin or a wandering shinobi.
"If you can last a while against me," the man said, cracking his knuckles, "you can travel with us for free."
The rest of the caravan remained silent. No objections meant tacit agreement. In places like this—borderlands far from the shinobi villages—this kind of challenge wasn't unusual. Every time these merchants made the trek, they'd pick up a few drifters trying their luck.
If the kid really had some skill, he'd be useful when trouble came knocking. If not... well, they'd lose nothing tossing a wannabe ninja into the dirt. At worst, they'd strip his gear and treat him like any other scavenged cargo—just another basket of herbs or scraps to peddle.
After ensuring Kawaki Aoba was settled safely to the side, Asuma stepped into the open space, facing the wandering ninja.
Yes, it was a duel—but not one to the death. In this kind of lawless region, even an unfriendly scuffle could turn fatal if one wasn't careful. Medical care was a luxury here, and anyone who got injured over something petty rarely lived to regret it.
Only fools fought without restraint in a place like this—and those fools were long buried under the sand.
The wandering ninja approached cautiously, probing Asuma's skills. Meanwhile, Asuma recalled Kurenai Yuhi's teachings—always keep your cards close. He feigned inexperience, acting like someone who'd been trained but had never seen real combat. He let the other guy land a few hits, staggered on purpose, and even rolled on the ground for dramatic effect, staining his already ragged clothes further.
After a few exchanges, the wandering ninja pulled back, brow furrowed in thought.
"Hmph. Not bad," the man muttered. "Your technique's sloppy, and your experience is trash, but you've got chakra control, at least. Fine. You can come. Bring your little brother too."
He sheathed his kunai and turned back toward the caravan.
"But listen up. We're not feeding you, and we're not sharing water. When there's a fight, you'd better pull your weight. If you can handle that, then fall in line."
Asuma let out a quiet breath, only now realizing how tense his shoulders had been. That was it?
That's all it took to be acknowledged as a ninja out here? he thought, a bit stunned.
The wandering ninja's lack of discernment opened Asuma's eyes to the grim reality of life outside the Hidden Villages. In the smaller nations, the standards for being called a shinobi seemed barely higher than those of common bandits.
If he didn't know better—if he didn't know he was still just a genin—he might have started believing he was invincible.
Still, while he had plenty to grumble about, the outcome was ideal. He and Kawaki had successfully joined the caravan without drawing too much attention.
Asuma was assigned to the left flank of the caravan. It was a dangerous spot. If Sand Bandits were to ambush them from that side, he'd be the first to face them. But it suited him just fine. The more dangerous the position, the more freedom he'd have to react on his terms.
Once settled, Asuma began analyzing the caravan's makeup. With a quick glance, he counted over a dozen merchant groups—some larger, some small.
The hired muscle was a mix of low-rank ninjas, wandering swordsmen, and mercenaries. It was a hodgepodge of grizzled faces and dubious allegiances.
Among the crowd, Asuma spotted a smaller merchant group near the center of the formation. They had a lone samurai as a bodyguard, standing tall in traditional armor, and beside him, curiously, was a child.