Naruto rebirth! Xenoverse!

Chapter 57: The Survivors' Tale!

The forest path wound through increasingly dense undergrowth as Team 15 followed Minato's carefully placed markers deeper into the wilderness. The subtle chakra signatures embedded in select trees were nearly invisible to the naked eye, but Kōzaru's enhanced senses could detect them clearly—small beacons guiding them toward their sensei and the convoy survivors.

"How much further?" Tatsuma asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as they moved through the shadows between towering oaks.

"Not far now," Kōzaru replied, his nose twitching as new scents reached him. "I can smell... blood, fear, and..." He paused, his expression growing troubled. "Pain. Old pain and fresh wounds."

Yuki and Riku pressed closer to their master's sides, their own senses detecting the mixture of human suffering that lay ahead. Both ninken moved with heightened alertness, their ears swivelling at every sound and their hackles slightly raised.

"There," Aotaka pointed ahead to where a faint glow filtered through the trees. "Firelight."

The small clearing came into view gradually, revealing a carefully concealed camp that spoke to Minato's tactical expertise. Natural barriers of fallen logs and dense bushes provided cover from multiple angles, while the fire was positioned to minimise smoke and light signature. It was the kind of defensive position that could be abandoned quickly if necessary, but would provide adequate protection for wounded civilians.

"Sensei," Kōzaru called softly as they approached the perimeter.

"Come in," Minato's voice replied from the shadows. "Keep your voices low—we don't want to attract any more attention than necessary."

As they entered the clearing, the full scope of their mission became immediately apparent. Three figures huddled near the small fire, their conditions ranging from wounded to utterly exhausted. The medical supplies that had been the convoy's cargo were stacked nearby, partially unpacked to tend to the survivors' immediate needs.

"Team 15," Minato said, emerging from his position near a large boulder, "meet our survivors."

The first was clearly one of the medical personnel—a woman in her thirties with dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. Her medic's vest was torn and bloodstained, and her left arm rested in a makeshift sling. Despite her injuries, her eyes remained alert and professional as she assessed the new arrivals.

"Ayame Sato," she introduced herself with a slight bow of her head. "Medical Corps, Third Division. I... I'm grateful you found us."

The second survivor was an older man with grey-streaked hair and calloused hands that marked him as the convoy's civilian driver. His clothes were dirty and torn, and a nasty bruise covered the left side of his face. Unlike the medic, his eyes held the haunted look of someone who had witnessed things no civilian should ever see.

"Hiroshi," he said simply, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. "I... I drive supply convoys. Or I did, anyway." His voice carried a note of uncertainty, as if he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to handle the responsibility again.

The third figure was younger, probably in his early twenties, and wore the remains of what had once been medical assistant's clothing. His right leg was wrapped in bandages, and he kept glancing nervously at the treeline as if expecting enemies to emerge at any moment.

"Kenji Matsuda," he said, his voice tight with barely controlled fear. "Medical assistant, first deployment to the front lines. My first... and hopefully my last." He said biting his nails.

Minato gestured for Team 15 to settle around the fire, his expression grave as he prepared to brief them on what they had learned. "The survivors have provided some disturbing intelligence about the attack and the enemy alliance we're facing."

"What happened out there?" Tatsuma asked gently, his voice carrying the compassion that had always been one of his strongest qualities.

Ayame's hands tightened into fists as she began to speak, her professional composure wavering slightly. "It was a coordinated ambush. Stone and Cloud ninja working together—something we never anticipated. They knew exactly when and where our convoy would be, down to the minute."

"Inside information, you think?" Aotaka said, his voice carrying grim understanding. "Someone told them about your route perhaps."

"That's what we're afraid of," Hiroshi said, his voice trembling slightly. "They knew about the medical supplies, about the personnel count, even about our escort strength. This wasn't a random attack—it was planned!" He yelled, angry and upset at what had happened.

Kenji's nervous glances toward the forest intensified as he added, "They weren't just trying to steal supplies. They... they wanted to know about our medical techniques, our treatment protocols, even our field surgery procedures."

"They interrogated you," Kōzaru said, his enhanced senses detecting the lingering scents of fear and pain that clung to the survivors.

"For hours," Ayame confirmed, her voice breaking slightly. "They had specialists—ninja trained in extracting information. They wanted to know everything about how we treat wounded shinobi, what medicines we use, how we transport critical patients..."

"Intelligence gathering for future attacks on our medical infrastructure," Minato said grimly. "If they understand our medical capabilities, they can target our weaknesses more effectively."

Tatsuma felt a chill run down his spine as the implications sank in. "They're not just trying to win battles—they're trying to cripple our ability to recover from them."

"What about the others?" Aotaka asked, though he dreaded the answer. "The rest of the convoy?"

The silence that followed was answer enough. Hiroshi's eyes filled with tears as he struggled to speak. "The escort... they fought bravely. But they were outnumbered three to one. And the other medical personnel..."

"They didn't survive the interrogation," Ayame finished, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dr. Yamamoto tried to resist, tried to give them false information. They... they made an example of him."

The weight of that revelation settled over the clearing like a suffocating blanket. These weren't just casualties of war—they were fellow Leaf shinobi who had died protecting vital information that could save other lives.

"I'm sorry," Kenji said suddenly, his voice cracking with guilt. "I should have been stronger. I should have resisted more. But when they started... when they began using their techniques..."

"You survived," Minato said firmly, his voice carrying the authority of absolute conviction. "You protected information that would have cost more lives if it had fallen into enemy hands. There's no shame in enduring what you endured."

"But I told them about the supply routes," Kenji continued, his self-recrimination evident. "I gave them information about other convoys."

"Under torture and Genjutsu," Ayame said, reaching out to place her good hand on his shoulder. "Information extracted under duress isn't betrayal—it's survival. You aren't a shinobi. And now we can warn those other convoys."

Kōzaru studied the three survivors, his enhanced senses picking up the complex mixture of emotions radiating from each of them. Fear, guilt, determination, and something else—a desperate need to believe that their survival had meaning, that the sacrifices of their comrades hadn't been in vain.

"What's our timeline for reaching the medical outpost?" he asked Minato, shifting the conversation toward action and away from the painful memories.

"Half a day if we push hard," Minato replied. "But with wounded civilians, it could take longer. We'll need to balance speed with their physical limitations."

"I can manage," Ayame said firmly, though her pale complexion suggested otherwise. "My injuries aren't severe enough to slow down the mission."

"My leg's not that bad," Kenji added, though his winces when he shifted position told a different story. "I won't be the reason more people die."

Hiroshi just nodded, his weathered face set in lines of determined resignation. "I've driven through worse. Just... just tell me we're not going back the way we came."

"Absolutely not," Minato assured him. "We're taking a circuitous route through terrain that should be clear of enemy patrols. It's longer, but safer." He said, trying to put them more at ease.

"Safer being a relative term," Aotaka observed, his hand unconsciously moving to his sword hilt. "If they had inside information about the convoy, they might know about alternative routes as well."

"Which is why we'll be staying alert," Minato said, his gaze moving to each of his students in turn. "This mission has the potential to become much more dangerous than a simple escort. You'll need to be ready for anything."

Tatsuma looked at the three survivors, seeing not just mission objectives but people who had already suffered more than anyone should have to endure. The weight of responsibility was different this time—not just the abstract duty to complete a mission, but the very real obligation to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

"We won't let anything happen to them," he said, his voice carrying quiet conviction.

"None of us will," Kōzaru agreed, Yuki and Riku barking softly in support of their master's determination.

"They've been through enough," Aotaka added, his own experiences with loss lending depth to his words. "It's our turn to carry the burden."

Minato smiled slightly at his students' responses, pride evident in his expression. "That's exactly the attitude we need. These people have given everything for the village, and now it's our responsibility to make sure they get home safely."

As they prepared to break camp and begin the journey to the medical outpost, each member of Team 15 felt the weight of their mission settling around them like a mantle. This wasn't about glory or experience points—it was about honour, duty, and the fundamental promise that Leaf shinobi made to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The survivors gathered their few possessions with careful movements, each gesture betraying their physical and emotional exhaustion. But there was something else in their expressions now—a flicker of hope that hadn't been there when Team 15 had first arrived.

"Let's move out," Minato said quietly. "Stay alert, stay together, and remember—our primary objective is getting these people home safely. Everything else is secondary."

As they left the concealed camp behind and melted back into the forest, the weight of their responsibility settled over Team 15 like never before. Behind them lay the evidence of enemy brutality and coordination. Ahead lay a dangerous journey through hostile territory.

But for the first time since this mission had begun, the survivors weren't alone. They had protectors now—young shinobi who had already proven themselves in battle and were prepared to do whatever it took to honour the sacrifice of those who hadn't made it home.

The forest embraced them as they began their careful journey toward safety, but the weight of responsibility was heavier than any of them had anticipated.

Two hours into their journey, the group had settled into a careful rhythm. Minato took point, his sensory abilities scanning for threats while maintaining a pace the wounded could manage. Team 15 formed a protective perimeter around the survivors, with Kōzaru and his ninken providing rear security while Tatsuma and Aotaka flanked the group.

"How are you holding up?" Tatsuma asked Kenji quietly as they navigated around a fallen log.

"Better than I expected," the young medical assistant replied, though his slight limp suggested otherwise. "It's strange... I thought I'd never feel safe again after what happened. But having proper shinobi protection..." He trailed off, his gratitude evident.

Ayame had been walking beside Hiroshi, occasionally checking his injuries with professional concern. Despite her own wounded arm, her medical training compelled her to monitor the group's physical condition. "We should rest soon," she said to Minato. "Hiroshi's showing signs of exhaustion, and Kenji's favouring that leg more than he admits."

"There's a small clearing about half a kilometre ahead," Minato replied. "We can take a short break there."

Aotaka found himself studying the survivors as they walked, particularly noting how they supported each other despite their own injuries. Ayame's constant vigilance over the others, Hiroshi's determination to keep pace despite his obvious fatigue, and Kenji's efforts to hide his pain—all of it spoke to a different kind of strength than what he was used to seeing.

"They're tougher than they look," he said quietly to Kōzaru as they walked.

"Different kind of tough," Kōzaru agreed, his senses constantly monitoring their surroundings. "We train for combat, but they... they survived something that broke other people."

It was a sobering thought that stayed with them as they continued through the forest. The survivors weren't shinobi, weren't trained killers with enhanced abilities and deadly techniques. They were ordinary people who had endured extraordinary circumstances and somehow found the strength to keep going.

"You know," Tatsuma said to the group as they walked, "when we first heard about this mission, I was excited about the challenge. The chance to prove ourselves on a real C-rank assignment."

"And now?" Ayame asked, her tone carrying genuine curiosity.

"Now I realise it's not about us at all," Tatsuma replied. "It's about getting you home safely. That's more important than any personal achievement."

Kenji looked at him with something approaching wonder. "How old are you three?"

"Eight," Kōzaru answered, taking a moment to think about it, forgetting how old he was in this body for a minuet.

"Eight years old," Kenji repeated slowly. "And you're... you're willing to risk your lives for people you just met."

"That's what it means to be a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf," Aotaka said simply. "We protect those who can't protect themselves."

The conversation was interrupted by a sharp bark from Yuki, followed immediately by Riku's low growl. Both ninken had frozen in place, their attention fixed on something ahead.

"Contact," Kōzaru whispered, his senses immediately sharpening. "Multiple hostiles approaching from the northwest."

Minato raised his hand, bringing the group to a halt as his own sensory abilities confirmed the threat. "Six individuals, moving with purpose but lacking coordination. Bandits, most likely."

"How can you tell the difference?" Tatsuma asked quietly.

"Movement patterns, and chakra strength," Minato explained, his voice barely audible. "Shinobi move with discipline even in irregular formations. These are opportunists who spotted our group and saw potential victims."

Through the trees ahead, rough voices became audible as the bandits approached.

"Look at this! Injured travellers with a nice pile of supplies!"

"Easy pickings! The kids probably can't even fight!"

"And that medical equipment will fetch a good price!"

Kōzaru's enhanced senses locked onto their levels immediately—six bandits, all around level 3. Against normal civilians, they would indeed be dangerous predators. Against Team 15, they were about to learn a very different lesson.

"They're not very strong," Kōzaru whispered to his teammates. "Level 3, all of them."

"Orders, sensei?" Aotaka asked, his hand already moving to his sword hilt.

"Protect the survivors," Minato said simply. "Show them what Leaf shinobi are capable of. But remember—these are just bandits, not enemy ninja. Don't let the ease of victory make you careless."

As the bandits emerged from the treeline, their confident swagger immediately faltered when they got a clearer look at their intended victims. Six men with mismatched weapons and crude leather armour suddenly found themselves facing shinobi whose gear and bearing spoke to serious training and dangerous capability.

"Maybe we should rethink this," one of them muttered, taking in Minato's jōnin vest and the professional stance of Team 15.

"Too late for that," their leader snarled, raising a rusty sword. "We can't let them report our position. Kill them all!"

The battle that followed would be a stark demonstration of the gulf between trained shinobi and common criminals—a lesson that the survivors would remember long after they reached safety.

That's the end of this chapter! Remeber to check out my P.atreon if you want more, over 16 chapters ahead! Custom art work of the characters and more! Thank you and have a great day!