Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter Fourteen: Bloody Struggle

Guided by the gap left behind by the unknown Konoha ninja, Hayama and his squad carefully advanced. Just as it seemed they were on the verge of escaping, fate had other plans.

The two sides stumbled into each other face-to-face, the darkness nearly causing Hayama to collide head-on with the enemy. The unexpected encounter left him momentarily speechless—what were the odds of this happening? It almost felt like some twisted cosmic joke, but one Hayama had no desire to laugh at.

The three Suna ninja were equally taken aback. The last thing they expected was a trio of Konoha ninja creeping up behind them, and the shock sent shivers down their spines. Had it been daylight, they might already have been dead.

Hayama's mind reeled. How could there be a Suna squad quietly tailing the very Konoha ninjas who had broken out? But there was no time for confusion. His team's survival instincts kicked in, and his characteristic cautiousness was momentarily overridden by the simple truth: it was kill or be killed.

Seizing the initiative, Hayama attacked first. The sequence of seals was second nature, executed in an instant. A bright burst of flames lit the night, signaling the start of a deadly clash.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"

Though the fireball didn't cause any direct injuries, it threw the enemy off balance just long enough for Yamashiro Tatsu to charge forward. Spotting an enemy also wielding a long sword, Tatsu engaged him without hesitation.

The sharp clang of metal against metal rang out as the two swordsmen fought with deadly intent, each strike aimed at a vital spot. As Tatsu lured his opponent further away, the remaining Suna ninja tensed, aware that their numbers now matched the enemy's. The Konoha squad's plan was clear: Tatsu would draw one away, leaving Hayama and Yura to dispatch the remaining two.

"Mind Confusion Technique!"

From behind Hayama, Yura unleashed the Yamanaka clan's secret art. One of the Suna ninja suddenly wavered, his own kunai thrusting toward his stomach as if he'd lost control of his own body.

"Seiji! Snap out of it!" the other Suna ninja shouted in alarm.

Jolted back to his senses, Seiji saw the kunai just breaking his skin and froze, sweat pouring down his face. Before he could fully recover, Hayama struck. A firm grip on Seiji's wrist forced the kunai deep into the man's abdomen. Even as pain contorted Seiji's face, his free hand lashed out, kunai aimed at Hayama's chest.

He was ready to die, to take Hayama down with him in a final act of defiance. But Hayama's measured, cautious nature had already prepared him for such a ploy. Unbeknownst to Seiji, Hayama's defensive Earth Style technique was already in place.

"Thud."

"Squish."

The sounds were unmistakable: Seiji's kunai glanced off Hayama's hardened defenses, while Hayama's blade found its mark. The skirmish ended in a flash—Seiji's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, his would-be sacrificial blow utterly thwarted.

The remaining Suna ninja seethed with a mix of emotions—shock, fury, guilt—before raw vengeance took over. He completed his own jutsu, launching a massive wind blade straight at Yura.

"Wind Style: Wind Cutter Technique!"

As the deadly gust tore through the air, he followed up with a ferocious charge, kunai in hand. He knew he had to neutralize the mind-altering Yamanaka before it was too late. His martial prowess and determination to turn the tide revealed the harsh training of Suna's elite, their ability to claw their way back from the brink.

But Yura wasn't easily cowed. She dodged the wind blade with nimble movements, drew two kunai, and met her opponent head-on. The two exchanged quick, brutal strikes, her agility keeping her just a step ahead.

However, physical strength began to tilt the balance. The Suna ninja's powerful strikes eventually overpowered Yura, sending her sprawling to the ground. As she scrambled to recover, a brutal kick caught her in the back, reopening an old wound. The Suna ninja moved in for the kill, his blade poised for a final blow.

Just as it seemed Yura's fate was sealed, Hayama sprang his trap. Hidden beneath the earth, he struck with a well-timed jutsu.

"Earth Style: Headhunter Jutsu!"

A hand shot up from the ground, dragging the unsuspecting Suna ninja down into the soil. Before the man could free himself, Hayama emerged and swiftly ended his life with a precise slash. The Suna ninja's death rattle was accompanied by an eruption of blood that soaked the muddy ground.

The battle was over. The Konoha team, though battered, stood victorious. Hayama retrieved Yura, who lay wounded but alive, and Tatsu rejoined them. They quickly bandaged Yura's injuries, then resumed their arduous trek toward safety. Although they had survived this encounter, the memory of the fight—and the sheer chance that had brought them into it—lingered in their minds.

As the horizon began to lighten, the familiar outlines of the Fire Nation emerged. The sight of a pale sun breaking through the rainclouds lifted their spirits. Soon after, they encountered a Konoha reconnaissance squad. The pale, pupil-less eyes of the Hyūga greeted them, and for the first time in what felt like ages, they felt a sense of relief. Yura fainted from exhaustion, collapsing into her comrades' arms as the Hyūga assured them they were safe.

...

Back at the border camp, Hayama carried Yura through the gates. There was no hero's welcome, no cheers or congratulations—only a standard security check.

"Unit, name, and age?" asked the guard.

Hayama smiled faintly, recognizing the routine. "Konoha's First Combat Division, Seventh Platoon, Seventh Squad. Hayama Shirakumo, age fifteen."

The guard frowned. "The records say you're fourteen. Care to explain?"

"Had a birthday last week. Just turned fifteen," Hayama replied, keeping his tone polite.

The guard sighed but said no more. "Go left to the temporary hospital, report to the task office to the right, and then pick up your tent at the supply depot. Be quick—breakfast is soon."

Hayama thanked him with a nod, his friendly demeanor never slipping. Behind the smile, though, he was utterly drained. Once out of the guard's earshot, Tatsu leaned over and whispered, "Captain, there's blood on your face."

"Where?" Hayama asked, touching his cheek.

"Just under your nose."

Hayama's good mood soured instantly. The thought of his carefully maintained, upbeat image ruined by a smudge of blood irked him more than the battle itself. With Yura safely handed off to Tatsu, he made his way to the task office, wiping his face clean before reporting in.

...

Meanwhile, at Konoha's former base in the Rain Country, the battle had ended. The victorious Suna and Iwa forces combed through the remnants of the camp. Despite their triumph, the mood was grim. The Konoha ninja, even when cornered, had displayed remarkable tenacity. Their final counterattacks had turned what should have been a simple mop-up operation into a costly, hard-fought struggle.

Among the fallen was Tsuchiryu Ota. A seasoned jonin, he had been unable to escape. Overwhelmed by multiple Suna adversaries, his body was torn apart by a devastating Wind Release technique, leaving behind a grotesque and shattered form. His fate served as a grim reminder of the ninja's inevitable end in a world of endless conflict.

Back in Konoha, news of the defeat reached the village's leadership before dawn, sparking uproar among the higher-ups. The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, stayed up through the night to convene an emergency meeting. Tensions ran high, and the blame fell squarely on Uchiha Kagami's shoulders. By the meeting's end, the council had unanimously voted to remove him from the leadership ranks.

In the face of this political maneuvering, the plight of the survivors went unmentioned. Not until two days later did the first official orders for post-battle recovery arrive, sealed with the village's crest. By then, Uchiha Kagami's reputation—and that of his clan—was beyond repair. From that moment, the once-proud Uchiha found themselves caged, their former glory reduced to a humiliating spectacle. And within the heart of one young Uchiha chunin named Fugaku, a seed of rebellion quietly took root.