Choji furrowed his brow and listened closely—Hinata did too. Now that there were no more horns, and the battle had died down, it was far easier to make it out: a consistent, almost rhythmic thumping.

It went: one, two—THUMP.

Hinata immediately looked closer. “Goro Tanimoto is breaking out through the back. He’s with the two genin and three normal bandits.”

“Where and how?” I asked.

“Most of the damage was received by its front. You destroyed the entirety of the second floor and most of the first, but the back of the building is stable enough for them to break out.”

“How much chakra do the shinobi have?”

“One is somewhere between Choji and I and has a katana. The other has more than both of us but is unarmed. Of course, Tanimoto has more than us and less than you and Asuma but that's not saying much.”

“Choji,” I barked, making him flinch. “What’s the plan?”

“I-I…” He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them, they were clear, focused. “I’ll take the one with more chakra.”

“Hinata?”

She straightened. “I’ve got the one with the katana.”

We shared a nod and positioned ourselves right where they’d emerge from. I circulated my chakra, getting ready to level the rest of the building. Hinata perched on the edge of a tree, staring down at the rubble, and Choji refreshed his stone gauntlets directly below us, setting his jaw.

Expecting the worst, I levelled my palm at the area Hinata had pointed out, aiming Shotgun—a modified Wind-Release: Gale Palm. Gale Palm was a high-coverage, low-force wind jutsu geared more for crowd control than outright damage.

Shotgun, however, compressed the gale—and by simply using more chakra than needed, I retained its wide range. A dense, revolving wind formed in front of my palm and I fired it, bringing down the section of wall Tanimoto and his shinobi were hammering on, along with the rest of the building.

“Did I get them?” I asked, looking at Hinata.

She shook her head, but before she could open her mouth to say anything, the rubble burst apart, revealing three blood-stained shinobi—and none of the blood was theirs. Once the dust settled, I frowned—they’d used the three mercenaries as meat shields. Either that or my jutsu simply hit them instead.

I stared down the three ex-shinobi from above, moulding as much chakra as possible before all hell broke loose. The katana-wielding rogue drew his sword, taking a ready stance and Goro Tanimoto pulled a single-edged, ringed broadsword off his back.

“Leaf shinobi,” he said with a deep frown, laying the non-cutting edge across his shoulder. “Who sent you?”

He deflected the kunai I threw at him—the weapon drawing his attention from Choji and onto me—though he saw Hinata, and a second later, his expression went from rage to apprehension.

Wrenching another two kunai free, I held them in reverse grip and launched at Goro, ignoring the two genin on either side of him. I crouched low when I landed, avoiding a horizontal swing from his blade.

He jumped back, giving me the space needed to throw a front kick. I connected with the flat of his blade and grunted, sending a blast of chakra through my sole to send him flying. The force flipped me back but I righted myself in midair and landed, dashing forward before he could regain his footing.

Goro slammed into the remains of the building and righted his grip over his sword, the rings colliding at how fast he’d swung the weapon. I caught its edge on my kunai, stopping it dead on as he squared his feet and continued pushing. I could feel him overpowering me so I readied the kunai in my other hand and buried it as deep into his stomach as it would go.

The attack forced him to let go of his weapon and he backed away, glaring at me hatefully. “W-Who sent you?”

I levelled my remaining kunai at him.

A vein bulged in his head as he snarled, “Fine—I’ll turn you to ash—then it won’t matter!”

Cursing, I hurled the kunai at him to stop the flow of his hand seals.

He skipped away and I looked back to see Choji and Hinata embroiled in battles of their own. If I dodged, the fire jutsu would hit them. I flew through hand seals of my own as I turned back, gathering more chakra than I did when levelling the building.

A wave of heat slammed into me as Goro spewed a fireball that quickly swelled in size. It set the rubble aflame and roared as it neared me. I kneaded the chakra in my lungs and reared back, shaping it with my hands into a focused cone. It slammed into the centre of the approaching fireball, dispersing the flames in all directions.

The resulting shockwave blasted the surrounding debris away and the intense heat diminished almost instantly as my jutsu overpowered his. Goro's fireball, formidable as it was, couldn't withstand the concentrated power of my jutsu, splitting it into harmless embers that floated down like dying stars, singing the outpost’s wooden remains.

Goro's eyes widened in disbelief. “What kind of jutsu is that?”

I didn't respond, focusing instead on regaining my breath and steadying my stance—even though I had a lot more jutsu in me before I’d felt any sort of strain, I didn’t want to risk Choji and Hinata entering the splash zone. My gaze shifted momentarily to check on the both of them; they seemed to be holding their own.

A measure of relief washed over me at the sight—there was no hesitation in their attacks despite having killed for the first. Goro, more frustrated with a growl, retrieved his sword with a growl.

“You think this is over?” His stomach was dyed red with blood but he didn't show any sign of backing down. “Because it’s not—not by a longshot.”

“You’re right,” I replied, strangely relaxed now. The residual heat from the collision made my skin prickly, but I readied my kunai.

As Goro lunged forward, his blade gleaming in the flickering firelight, I rooted myself, channelling my focus to the point of tunnel vision. Efficiency and precision were key here. Goro's sword swung towards my neck, but I stepped in, closing the distance. My left hand, still gripping the kunai, intercepted his wrist with a powerful deflection, redirecting the blade harmlessly past my shoulder.

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I wrenched it down with my right hand and stabbed the kunai deep into his forearm before pulling it out and slamming the hilt into his face. He staggered, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth, but his grip over the sword didn’t slacken one bit.

Goro's sword came slashing horizontally; I flowed around his defences, dropping low and taking advantage of his injured side. My leg whipped around in a seamless motion while I carefully controlled my chakra and unleashed a devastating sidekick to his knee. The joint buckled with a sickening crack.

His knee gave out under him as he roared in pain and fury, sword arm flailing wildly in an attempt to slash at me. I grabbed his wrist again, twisting it sharply. The blade clattered to the ground and I drove my kunai into his forearm, pinning it to the ground. I ground my knuckles into his face, each punch snapping his head back and forth, blood splattering from his mouth and nose.

Setting my jaw, I continued to pummel him, more blood splashing across my face and clothes. He tried to rise, but I stayed ahead of his attempts to regain balance by delivering heavy blows to his injured stomach.

Taking a deep breath, I slid behind him—evading yet another wild, sloppy strike and pounced. Both my arms locked around his throat and I did the same with his waist using my legs. He struggled, but my hold was ironclad. His fingers clawed at my arm, but couldn't find purchase.

With a final, desperate effort, he sagged back, trying to squash me underneath him, but I only tightened my grip, cutting off his air supply completely. His struggles grew weaker, his movements sluggish. I felt his pulse fading under my arm and snapped his neck with a final, brutal twist.

Goro’s body went limp, and I released him, letting his lifeless form slump to the ground. I stood over him, heaving, and wrenched my kunai out of his corpse and then considered the thought before ripping the nine-ringed broadsword from his dead grip.

From the looks of it, Choji and Hinata had finished up too. The natural course of battle had taken them farther away from where our brawls had started. However, each of us stood in a bloodbath of our own making.

Three shinobi lay dead at our feet and dozens more mercenaries encircled us. The crackles of sizzling embers filled the silence. I could see them—my friends—but something stopped me from going to them or even taking a step in their direction. So, instead, I stood still and stared.

At the bodies; some were my doing, some were Choji’s—the four over there were Hinata’s. One after the other, I took life after life. Why couldn’t I feel anything? Shock, revulsion, or even some kind of rush? Instead, there was a hollowness in my chest. Not quite gnawing or heavy but a stationary hollowness at the nine lives I’d taken: the two at the gate, the six inside, and Goro Tanimoto.

Someone touched my shoulder—I didn’t react to it as quickly as I should have. Choji stared at me, looking like he might burst into tears. Hinata gave me a brittle smile and I blinked, not knowing how to reply.

“Good job, you three,” came our teacher’s voice from a tree above us. “You handled that about as well as I expected.” He landed in front of us, placing a hand on each of our heads in turn. “Killing isn’t an easy thing, so talk about it—don’t let it eat you up inside.”

I looked at my friends out of the corner of my eyes.

“I didn’t think it’d be so… easy, you know?” I spoke first because Hinata and Choji wouldn’t—for better or worse, I led them into this shitshow, so I felt some kind of responsibility in leading them out of it. “Killing was always that one thing you never did. Ever. I thought it’d be harder.”

“And it’s messy—and the blood it gets… it gets everywhere. I a-accidentally swallowed it a-and—” Choji cut himself off and retched, emptying his stomach on the rubble of the building I’d flattened.

He reared up, took another look at the bodies littering the outpost and retched again.

Hinata patted his back, purposefully keeping her eyes to the ground. “...With my Byakugan, I could see the exact moment each of them died—without fail. It was terrifying—that no matter what, we’ll die in the same way.”

“You know the saying,” said Asuma, sighing. “Those who kill should be prepared to be killed in turn. There’s a karma to this life—a price to every life we take that we’ll pay, whether you believe in an afterlife or not.”

“Sensei?” Choji’s voice wavered. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I… Why do people kill?”

Our teacher frowned and, instead of answering, he removed a cigarette from his pack and held one between his teeth. My hand hovered in the air for a moment and I sighed, making my decision.

“Pass me one,” I said.

Asuma raised an eyebrow. “A cigarette?”

“Pass me a cigarette. Right now, I need to feel something that isn’t this… this emptiness, even if it’s the burn of those death sticks.”

He lit it for me before passing it over, face softening. I took a deep drag, my throat burning, but clamped down on my rising cough before breathing it back up. Tears pricked my eyes. Once I blinked them away, I caught Hinata’s eye.

“Give it here,” she said.

I handed it over, fully expecting her to stamp it out but she took a drag from it and handed it back, spluttering. Then, Choji asked for it, and in a daze, I let him take it, accepting it between my fingers when he was done and watched it slowly disintegrate.

Asuma watched our exchange with a deep sadness in his eyes before walking away. He removed another sealing scroll from his pouch, beheading the corpses of the two shinobi Choji and Hinata had killed before doing the same to Goro Tanimoto. I took another drag of the cigarette, tossing the butt into the rubble.

Choji and Hinata stared at the ground until he returned.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s report back to the village and go home.”

Even when we’d left the outpost behind, it felt like I was still there, surrounded by the bodies and the embers. The cigarette’s bitter taste lingered on my tongue but I was grateful for it. The bodies of my first two kills greeted me at the front gate and I froze, taking in the sight of the one who took a kunai to the throat.

I’d looked away from his dying expression then—the strangled cry was too much for me. This time, I didn’t shy away. His eyes were still open, but they were dull. They followed me, those bottle-green eyes. I could feel them at my back, judging me… blaming me.

The emptiness returned and I sighed, ready to ask for another cigarette. “Hey, Asuma can I—”

Two things happened, then.

A jangle ran across the field, coming from the undergrowth to our left—the same undergrowth we’d emerged from at the start of our assault. I squinted at the darkness, just about able to make out a humanoid shape in the early morning light before I slammed to the ground hard.

My friends yelped beside me and while I couldn’t see a thing over Asuma’s broad body sprawled on top of us—I could hear. Something big and heavy collided into the ground. He rolled away from us and we scrambled to my feet. I knew that sword—that irregular, broad cleaver. Its owner stood next to it, gripping its handle and unearthing it as if the ground was simple butter.

A spiked, interlinked cord lay on the ground next to it before it snapped back sharply. I looked further into the field and my stomach dropped—this was wrong. Why were they here?

The broadsword came for us again but Asuma wedged his trench knives between the massive cleaver and himself. Sparks flew before he slipped underneath the swing, the huge blade just narrowly missing his head. Before he could do anything except stand, the sword came swinging down and he sprung back.

One more person stepped out of the shadowed forest wearing a thin, porcelain-like mask with slits where the eyes should be and a flowing, crimson pattern trailing down. I followed his movements with my eyes, raising Goro Tanimoto’s blade just in time to deflect a hail of senbon.

Hinata and Choji avoided the massive chain hurled from across the field.

Was this a battle we could even win? I gritted my teeth, plunging the ringed broadsword into the soil. If I made it out alive, I could always retrieve it, but until then, it would only be a hindrance.

Asuma’s trench knives buzzed to life, piercing the deadly silence with their hum. “Zabuza Momochi, what business do you have with the Hidden Leaf?”