Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter Twenty: Deployment

Before long, Hayama saw Yamashiro Tatsu and Yamanaka Yura approaching with two unfamiliar Konoha shinobi in tow. Ever cautious, Hayama didn't reveal himself immediately; he waited for the prearranged signal.

When Yamashiro Tatsu arrived at the meeting point and found no one there, he approached a pre-marked tree, turned three times left, then three times right, and awkwardly uttered the code phrase: "Under the setting sun, the maples catch fire."

Hearing this, Hayama emerged from the shadows, kunai still in hand, and responded: "With chrysanthemums in bloom, one is missing."

These lines of classical poetry, used as code phrases, were Hayama's own invention. In his previous life, he hadn't paid much attention to the Naruto story. He had only heard his college roommates going on about Kakashi, Naruto, and some other names he could never quite place. Still, his ingrained cultural familiarity with Chinese poetry made it easy for him to select a few lines as signals.

Now that he was out in the open, Hayama kept a distance of three meters as he addressed the group. "You're from the Rain Country front lines?"

The two unfamiliar shinobi exchanged glances. "Yes," they confirmed.

Hayama remained silent, taking a moment to carefully examine them. Both looked young, likely around fifteen or sixteen, but the clan emblems engraved on their vests were unmistakable—Uchiha.

"Activate your Sharingan. Let me see."

One of them frowned in displeasure, but at a nod from his companion, he reluctantly channeled chakra to activate his Sharingan. Two sets of blood-red eyes lit up in the darkness, exuding an intense, chilling aura that made Hayama's hairs stand on end, as if his blood had turned sluggish.

The oppressive presence of their bloodline was undeniable.

Hayama gave a small nod. "Can you still fight?"

"We can," one replied, "but our chakra is running low."

Hayama narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment, then gave a firm order. "Listen up!"

Yamashiro Tatsu and Yamanaka Yura immediately stood at attention, their trust in their team leader clear. The two Uchiha, however, appeared taken aback—surprised that the youngest among them was the team captain.

"Yamanaka Yura, take one of them back to the base. Report the situation and await further orders."

Yura snapped to attention. "Understood!"

"Yamashiro Tatsu and I will form a three-man unit with the remaining Uchiha. We'll hold our position in Area E."

"Yes!" Tatsu replied crisply. The two Uchiha, however, said nothing.

The centuries-old Uchiha pride made them naturally disdainful of commoners, even those who had earned their place as shinobi. The air grew tense. Tatsu frowned, his hand creeping toward his weapon. Yura outright drew a kunai, making her stance clear—if it came down to it, she would side with Hayama over the Uchiha.

Finally, the Uchiha on the right gave a wry smile. "No need to be so tense. I was just deciding which of us should stay." Turning to his comrade, he added, "Jin, you return to the base. I'll handle this mission."

"But—"

"No 'buts.' On the battlefield, following orders is paramount!"

"…Fine."

With that, the one named Uchiha Jin left with Yura, while Hayama handed some rations to the remaining Uchiha.

"Thank you. May I ask your name?"

"Hayama Baiyun, leader of Konoha's Seventh Combat Company, Squad Seven. And you?"

"Uchiha Fugaku. Just call me Fugaku."

Hayama nodded, silently studying the map.

Encountering Uchiha who had retreated from the Rain Country made it clear what had happened to the primary Konoha forces led by the Senju. Another catastrophic defeat seemed likely, and who could say how many would make it back alive?

For now, Hayama's mission had changed. He wasn't just on routine patrol anymore; he was to intercept and protect retreating allies. Whether he wanted to or not, failure to follow orders in combat was a severe offense.

As Hayama scrutinized the map, Fugaku quietly sized up the young captain. Though still in his teens, Hayama remained calm under pressure and swiftly made sound strategic decisions. This composure was a rare trait. Fugaku had seen many comrades who, despite their formidable skills, lost their lives in battle simply because they panicked at the critical moment.

Fugaku's estimation of Hayama rose significantly. He quickly finished his rations, followed by a chakra pill, and some color returned to his pale face.

With Fugaku ready, Hayama gestured for everyone to gather around. Using a small tactical flashlight, they illuminated the map.

Despite the dim light, Fugaku's Sharingan easily picked out the intricate markings that divided Area E into numerous smaller sectors. He silently admired Hayama's thorough preparation.

Pointing to a star-marked spot, Hayama said, "We're here." Once everyone confirmed, he continued, "Area E is densely forested, making observation difficult. I suggest we move to the marked ridge—here. It's rocky, with clear lines of sight."

Hayama glanced at Fugaku's eyes, gauging his reaction. "This ridge is not only well-suited for observation; it's also a choke point that anyone retreating to the base must pass through. With the advantage of terrain and your Sharingan, we can set up an ambush and pick them off as they approach."

Fugaku's expression turned serious. He wasn't worried about the impending battle; it was Hayama's tactical acumen that impressed him. The boy had quickly assessed the situation, utilized the strengths of his team, and identified the most strategic location—all in a matter of minutes. Without a doubt, Hayama was a capable leader.

After outlining his plan, Hayama got up to lead the way. "But Captain Hayama," Fugaku interjected cautiously, "the Sharingan can only see chakra flow, not identify allegiance."

Hayama paused for a moment. "Let's hope they're smart enough to announce themselves," he replied cryptically before heading off into the darkness.

His steady footsteps echoed in Fugaku's ears.

With a grin, Yamashiro Tatsu patted Fugaku on the shoulder before following Hayama. Fugaku hesitated briefly, then trailed after them.

Hayama's terse words made it clear: they couldn't afford to second-guess. Any unidentified presence would be treated as hostile, ensuring their own safety. In those few words, Hayama had laid bare the harsh, merciless reality of a shinobi's world.

…

The ridge, designated as "#" by Hayama, was a winding, rocky outcrop covered in slippery moss. The terrain severely limited mobility, especially on a moonless night. Even experienced shinobi risked injuries from unexpected obstacles.

Hayama had marked this location months earlier, never expecting it to become a key defensive position. Now, it was the perfect spot for an ambush.

Hidden behind a protruding rock halfway up the ridge, Hayama and Fugaku lay in wait, with Tatsu positioned nearby.

Fugaku's Sharingan scanned the direction of the Rain Country. In his field of view, everything appeared in shades of gray, except for chakra, which shone a striking blue. After several minutes of watching, he saw nothing unusual. Glancing sideways, he stole a quick look at Hayama.

Fugaku's breath caught for a moment. He had barely noticed before, but Hayama's chakra reserves were immense—far beyond what he expected from someone without a bloodline limit. The sheer volume made him feel a pang of jealousy.

Trying to push those thoughts aside, Fugaku refocused on his task.

Time ticked by. The moon remained hidden, and a light drizzle began to fall, dampening their clothes. For Hayama, the discomfort was minor; he had endured worse.

As the rain continued, Fugaku suddenly spotted faint blue glimmers on the horizon—moving steadily closer.