The training ground was carved from the base of a cliff, shrouded in mist thick enough to blind even a seasoned shinobi. A thin circle had been cleared out at the center — a dueling ring outlined by salt and old blood.
"Today," Kisame grinned, Samehada slung lazily over his shoulder, "you'll show me what kind of animals you really are."
We stood opposite each other, the four of us — Haku, Suigetsu, Kimimaro, and me. No teams, no rules. A free-for-all.
"First to draw blood walks out with dinner privileges. Losers scrub the barracks."
Suigetsu chuckled. "Guess I'll be eating like a daimyo."
Haku stood motionless, his face unreadable. Kimimaro cracked his neck, bone protruding slightly from his forearm, and I… I took a breath, grounding myself in the center of my chakra network.
"Begin," Kisame barked.
I moved first. Low to the ground, my chakra suppressing my presence — a technique I'd adapted to manipulate battlefield perception. A jōnin-level trick, taught to ANBU. I'd seen it once in action during a covert Kirigakure purge. I'd practiced it ever since.
Haku vanished in a blur, mirrors forming like a prism around Suigetsu.
Kimimaro advanced on me.
Perfect.
I ducked a forward lunge, feeling the crackle of pressure as his sharpened ulna sliced through the air. I twisted left, drawing a kunai from my thigh pouch and deflecting the next thrust. My chakra surged, coating my blade in a thin, condensed barrier —
Raiton: Chakra Edge.
Kimimaro paused mid-attack. "Lightning nature?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I spun, low kick aimed at his knee joint. He blocked, but I felt the impact rattle up my shin as his leg braced unnaturally.
He countered with a full-body tackle, and I used his momentum against him, slipping to the side and driving the hilt of my blade into his ribs. A spark jumped from the metal to his skin.
He grunted, a flicker of pain flashing in his eyes — the first real reaction I'd seen from him.
"You're not weak," he said quietly.
"Neither are you," I replied.
Across the field, Suigetsu had melted through Haku's initial wave of senbon, his form rippling as blades passed harmlessly through water. But Haku had already moved — ice mirror to mirror, positioning himself above Suigetsu for a downward strike.
"Hyōton: Senbon Barrage."
Thousands of ice needles rained down. Suigetsu responded with Suiton: Water Wall, pulling a spiral of liquid up to deflect the attack. He emerged from it grinning, carrying a sword half-formed from his own water.
"Nice trick. Let's see how long you can keep up."
Back with Kimimaro, I dropped a smoke tag and disengaged, weaving signs with one hand while tossing shuriken with the other.
"Raiton: Needle Burst."
The shuriken sparked mid-air, becoming electrically charged as they arced through the mist. Kimimaro raised a wall of bone from his palm, shielding his body as the metal clanged and sizzled.
Behind him, I darted in, kunai reversed in my grip, aiming for the small of his back.
He ducked instinctively and swept with a low kick. I jumped, but he caught my ankle mid-air and yanked.
I flipped, landing hard on my shoulder.
"Yield," he said.
I grit my teeth, chakra surging through me. "Not yet."
A pulse. My body flickered, and in the split-second he hesitated, I swapped positions with a mark I'd left earlier — a modified Shunshin Mark embedded in a kunai.
Behind him again.
I aimed for his blind spot — and this time, I struck.
Blood.
A single cut across his shoulder.
Kisame's laughter echoed through the fog. "Well, damn. Didn't expect you to land the first blow."
Suigetsu broke Haku's ice mirror with a two-handed smash just as Kimimaro stepped back from me, eyes wide with something between frustration and acknowledgment.
"You've improved," he muttered.
"I've had to," I replied. "Survival is the best teacher."
The mist thinned slightly as Kisame approached, clapping once. "Good. You're not corpses yet."
He nodded to me. "Pressure wins today. Kimimaro, you're bleeding. Haku, your mirrors cracked. Suigetsu, you're a show-off and didn't land a single hit."
Suigetsu shrugged. "I looked good doing it, though."
We regrouped near the torii gate that marked the outer edge of the training ring. Kisame's expression had shifted — not softer, but thoughtful.
"I didn't choose you four at random. Each of you's got something dangerous brewing inside. That kind of thing? Needs focus. Control. Pressure."
He looked at me when he said that. And for a moment, I wondered if he saw what I'd buried deep — the memories, the fear, the raw, relentless pressure I'd used to forge myself into something stronger.
"Your next assignment isn't a spar," Kisame continued. "We've got a target on the border of the Land of Waves. Missing-nin. Ex-Kiri."
He handed each of us a dossier — faded ink, old bloodstains.
"Real rogue scum. Scavenger types. They're ambushing merchant ships for weapons, jutsu scrolls, whatever they can fence. Mizukage wants them put down. Quietly."
Kimimaro looked at his scroll. "Are we to kill them?"
"Of course," Kisame said, smiling. "What else would a sword be for?"
Suigetsu looked almost eager. "Finally, something with stakes."
Haku, ever silent, tucked the scroll away without a word.
I stared down at the ink sketch of our target. An older shinobi, face obscured, tattoos marking him as former Hunter-nin.
I folded the scroll and slipped it into my vest.
Killing wasn't new to me. But this would be the first mission we executed as a unit — no simulations, no observers, just blood and silence.
Kisame gave us one last look. "Move out by nightfall. And Pressure—don't get too comfortable at the top. They'll all be aiming for you now."
I nodded. "Let them."
"But before you leave, the council will summon you tomorrow morning" Kisame said as he left the training grounds