“He’s dead!” Taiga's voice rose, louder this time, tears welling in his eyes. “Why? Kiba-Sensei had our back. I was fine!”
“He almost killed you. I responded to the threat.” Aimee’s voice was cold, detached. Better they see this part of her now. Better they understand.
“He didn’t have to die,” Taiga sobbed, his shoulders shaking as he stared at the body.
“No, he didn’t.” Kiba’s tone was low and hard. He gripped the boy’s shoulder, and Aimee flinched, surprised at how much it hurt to hear that edge in his voice.
She tossed his kunai to him with a quick flick of his wrist. He caught it easily and slid it back into his belt.
“You were foolish and arrogant,” the man growled, pulling Taiga to his feet, his grip tightening as he spoke. “You were almost killed, and you forced your squadmate to take a life to protect you. What if that knife had been thrown at Oba-chan?”
Taiga closed his eyes, his chest heaving. “Oh…oh....” His face crumbled. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Her voice was flat, drawing Kiba’s attention.
“It’s not.” Curiosity danced in his eyes before he turned back to the other Tanshi. “The life of a shinobi is often violent and full of blood.”
Momoka, still pale, wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, her fingers trembling as she tried to compose herself.
“But life is precious,” Kiba-Sensei continued, his voice quieter now. “We can’t just waste it, or we become the very monsters we often fight.” He waved a hand toward the lifeless body of the thug. “Men like him who would harm an innocent old woman or kidnap children to control their parents.”
Taiga swallowed hard, his head hanging low. “Yes, Sensei,” he murmured, his voice small. “I understand.”
No one spoke for a long moment; the only sounds were the rustle of leaves and a faint trickle of a nearby stream.
Kiba finally broke the silence, his gaze lifting to the sky. “We should leave now. We should make it to the Waygate before night falls.” His voice was steady, but his eyes scanned the tree line, wary. “The fort around the gate is easily defendable and manned with Tsuchi soldiers. If there are more of the enemy, they won’t move on us there.”
Oba-chan nodded slowly, her frail hands reaching for her pack. “They must have followed me from the village.”
Before she could lift it, Taiga stepped forward, gently taking it himself. He slipped it onto his back, the weight of it resting over his own gear as he offered a small, silent nod.
Iruka glanced toward the tied-up assailants. “What about them?”
“We leave them,” Kiba said without hesitation, already turning his focus forward. “The guards at the Waygate can pick them up and send them back to Hi Haven for questioning tomorrow morning. They can keep for a night. Let’s go.”
The group moved through the forest in silence, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting long shadows through the dense canopy as they navigated around gnarled roots and low-hanging branches.
Approaching the Waygate, the trees gave way to a large, fortified structure looming ahead. Massive wooden beams, weathered by yearsof exposure, formed the high walls, their slanted roofs covered in layers of shingles, sharp and menacing. Stone foundations anchored the fortress, reminiscent of ancient outposts used by shinobi clans to guard their borders.
Kiba stepped ahead of the group, approaching the guards. Out of earshot, he spoke with them quietly, pulling a small set of papers from within his tunic. The guards scrutinized the documents, their eyes looking back to the rest of the squad with clear skepticism.
One of them laughed, tossing the papers back to the Squad Leader. “It’s your lives if you want to use the gate. Go for it, for all I care.”
“Thank you,” Kiba replied with a slight bow. “And where can we spend the night? Are there any free rooms available?”
“Ha, rooms.” He exchanged a smirk with the other guard, who grinned. “Tell you what, since we’re feeling generous, you can use the barn. I hear the hay’s quite comfortable.”
“What?!” Taiga started, but Aimee and Momoka moved swiftly, covering his mouth with their hands before he could say more.
“That would be most amenable. Thank you.” Kiba bowed again. “This way.” He nodded to Wolf Squad.
The barn was dusty, dimly lit by the fading sunlight that streamed through cracks in the wooden walls, the air thick with the scent of hay and earth. They set up their sleeping arrangements quietly, pulling their packs open and laying out bedrolls on the uneven floor.
Granny Oba-chan eased herself onto a bale of hay, her back hunched as she watched the group prepare. Passing around dried rations for dinner—hardtack and strips of cured meat, they ate in silence before lying down for the night.
As darkness settled over the barn, Aimee listened to the subtle sounds of her squad slipping into sleep. Taiga quieted, his body heavy as muscles softened in slow surrender. Iruka shifted once, and evenGranny Oba-chan’s tired exhales soon faded into the background. Hay rustled once as someone turned over, and soon, the barn was filled with the peaceful rhythm of sleep.
She was staring at the ceiling when a silent presence settled beside her.
