Imai Kenta's journey had been relatively smooth—at least, as smooth as it could be during a wartime infiltration mission. Thanks to the forward momentum created by Uchiha Kai's ruthless efficiency and Minato Namikaze's strategic foresight, his path had fewer obstacles than expected.
Aside from the traps laid throughout the route—cleverly hidden explosive tags and chakra-triggered snares—it was manageable. Though they cost him time, Kenta would rather take the delay than end up dead in a cloud of shrapnel.
Pausing briefly to assess his surroundings, Kenta felt the faint tremors in the earth. Focusing, he recognized the subtle pulse of battle. Uchiha Kai and Namikaze Minato were engaged in combat—likely holding off pursuing Iwa-nin to ensure the mission's success. He was on his own now.
"Even if they weren't fighting, I doubt Kai Uchiha would lift a finger for me," Kenta thought bitterly. That calm, harmless smile he always wore—right now, it couldn't mask the gnawing sense of isolation. It wasn't just a front; it was armor, grown thick over years of surviving as a civilian-born ninja among prodigies and clansmen.
He knew the risk of this mission—destroying the Kannabi Bridge was a direct blow to Iwagakure's logistics. It was suicidal work. Minato's Flying Thunder God Technique likely marked him already, a safety net... but no guarantee. Still, of the two, Minato inspired trust. The Yellow Flash was terrifying, but Kenta respected him.
Uchiha Kai, on the other hand... that was another story.
There was something cold about Kai. Even when Kai hadn't done anything explicitly cruel, Kenta felt it—that calculated aura, the sense that every move, every word, was carefully weighed for maximum impact. A fellow with the Sharingan and that much intellect? Dangerous.
Kai reminded Kenta of himself in a way that was unsettling—if Kenta had grown up privileged, with more power and less restraint. That kind of person didn't care about anyone but themselves, no matter how much they pretended to act for the team.
"A cold, clever bastard like that... you can never relax around him," Kenta thought grimly. "And now that he's awakened his Sharingan, he's even more dangerous."
He exhaled slowly, glancing toward the east. "Kai Uchiha... a scary guy."
Then another face flashed in his mind. "And Aya Hyūga—ambitious and scheming. How did I end up teamed with these two?"
There was no point complaining. The vibrations beneath his feet grew stronger, and Kenta quickened his pace. Whether Konoha won or lost, he only cared about one thing: getting back alive. If this mission failed, not only would the village lose a strategic asset, but Kenta himself might never see Konoha again.
He carried a heavy burden—secrets, expectations, and fears he couldn't voice. Things he hadn't chosen, but now had to endure.
Eventually, he reached the edge of the Kannabi Bridge. Surveying the area with caution, he disarmed several hidden traps before dropping down beneath the structure. But he stayed alert. Minato had warned them: two enemies confirmed, but that didn't mean there weren't more lurking in concealment.
"Is there really no one here?" Kenta muttered, eyes narrowing.
He didn't start placing the explosive tags immediately. Instead, he scanned the bridge supports and the surrounding forested shadows. After nearly a full minute of careful observation and sensory focus, he finally relaxed—slightly.
He retrieved the limited number of explosive tags from his pouch. Each was valuable. Even with Kai's help, they were running low on supplies. Kenta carefully calculated the most structurally critical points on the bridge. If placed correctly, the detonation would collapse the span completely.
Just as he began affixing a tag to a key support pillar, the sound of wind being sliced tore through the air behind him.
His eyes widened—too fast!—but it was already too late.
A sharp impact struck him, and he slumped forward.
"Tch. Kids these days," a sneering voice said behind him. "Is Konoha that desperate, sending brats to do men's work?"
An Iwa-nin stepped into view. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, clad in the standard crimson battle gear of Iwagakure. Clearly an elite operative, and judging by his arrival, one skilled in camouflage and earth-based concealment techniques.
But as the man inspected Kenta's body, he noticed something strange.
The familiar sound of slicing wind came from behind him.
"Ding!"
The Iwa-nin whirled around, instinctively raising a kunai. It collided against steel—a katana. He was pushed back by sheer force as Imai Kenta revealed himself, gripping his sword with both hands. At the Iwa-nin's feet, Kenta's "corpse" crumbled—just a Doton: Tsuchi Bunshin, a basic Earth Clone.
The enemy's eyes widened in surprise.
"Not bad." The Iwa-nin grinned wickedly. "How'd you see through me?"
"I've met your type before," Kenta replied coolly. "I knew you were here the moment I came down. Shame the ambush didn't work… guess I'll have to do this the hard way."
Now it was unclear who the predator was—and who was the prey.
They stared each other down. Words meant little now. Taunts were useless against someone as hardened as Kenta, and Kai's venomous sarcasm wasn't here to needle their enemy into a mistake.
"Go to hell."
The Iwa-nin struck first. With a burst of chakra-enhanced speed, he lunged, his kunai aiming for Kenta's throat.
But Kenta was ready. Blue chakra flared around his sword. He ducked low just before impact—losing a few strands of hair in the process—but used the motion to deliver a sharp upward slash that forced the enemy back.
They crossed paths and disengaged, each measuring the other.
Kenta's hands trembled slightly. His sword arm was numbing. This guy's strong, he thought grimly. Stronger than I can take head-on.
He tightened his grip.
"I guess I don't have the luxury of holding back anymore."