Month 5 of Being ROOT ANBU Soldier
(Machi POV)
The whole damn country smelled like shit. Wet earth, rotting leaves, and the faint, coppery stink of blood. The Land of Grass. What a miserable, soggy cesspool, stuck between the stone-headed apes of Iwagakure and the self-righteous pricks in Konoha. For six goddamn weeks, this purgatory had been our home.
Official records called us Recon and Sabotage Unit Sigma of Konoha's ANBU. A real mouthful of crap. We were Root. Danzō's personal little knives, sent here to bleed Iwa one quiet cut at a time. It was a dirty, thankless job, but at least the killing was straightforward.
Life here had a rhythm, if you could call this monotonous bullshit a rhythm. A week in the field, moving through the rain-soaked hills like ghosts, wrecking Iwa supply lines and gutting their patrols. Then we'd crawl back to this forward-operating base—a glorified hole in the ground under a big-ass tree—for three days of getting bitched at by our captain, Shin, resupplying, and more mind-numbing drills.
They call me "Cat." Fucking stupid, but whatever. It means I'm the one who has to do all the thinking. I plan the routes, pick the targets, and call the shots when the shit hits the fan. My senses, hammered into me by months of Shin's unforgiving training, were sharp enough to smell the ozone off an earth jutsu or hear a shuriken slicing through the rain fifty yards out. My Kekkei Genkai, my chakra threads, were good for two things: picking locks and strangling assholes in full armor.
Judai is "Fox." More like a dog on a leash, and I'm holding it. After they dragged him off for his two-week 're-conditioning,' he came back… wrong. They didn't get rid of his new powers; they just buried the idiot I knew under a mountain of cold, hard obedience. He moves when I signal, a terrifying mix of raw power and lethal grace. A perfect soldier. A perfect tool. Every time I look at his empty blue eyes, I want to puke. They scooped his brain out and left a perfect, obedient puppet.
Today was supposed to be a debriefing day. We sat in the cold, damp briefing room, a concrete box lit by a single, flickering fluorescent bulb that was giving me a headache. Shin stood before us, a map spread on the table. Just listening to his grating, monotone voice was enough to make me want to grind my teeth down to the gums.
"A new directive has come from Lord Danzō," he droned. "High-priority target. An ANBU Captain from Kumogakure, codenamed 'Viper'. Intel suggests he is meeting with an Iwa envoy two klicks east of here, near the old Kannawa ruins. Success could mean having Iwa and Kumo turn on one another, failure meant a war from three sides. The meeting is scheduled for 2200 hours tomorrow."
He tapped a point on the map. "Viper is a high-value intelligence asset. He is not to be captured. He is to be eliminated. His Iwa contact is also to be eliminated. You will retrieve any documents or scrolls from their persons and return to base. This is a level-four clandestine operation. No witnesses. No survivors. Failure will result in... severe consequences."
His dead eyes flickered to Judai for half a second. The threat was as subtle as a punch to the face. Fail, and I'll turn what's left of his brain to mush.
"Cat," he said, turning to me. "Formulate the plan. Report to me in one hour."
"Tch. Whatever," I muttered, grabbing the maps.
The Kannawa ruins were a tactical nightmare—a collapsed temple full of hiding spots and ambush points. Going in head-first was for morons. We needed a lure. The plan was simple, because anything too complicated would probably fry whatever's left of Judai's brain. Fox and I would approach from the west. We'd set explosive tags along their northern escape route. Then I'd use a piss-ant genjutsu to make a sound, draw the big Iwa meathead out, and separate him from the snake. Fox would take out the meathead. While Viper was busy wondering where his friend went, I'd gut him.
Shin approved it with a nod. The prick probably couldn't have come up with a better plan himself.
The next night, we moved. The rain had stopped, but the forest floor was slick mud. We moved in sync, two shadows in stupid porcelain masks. We set the traps and took our positions, overlooking the crumbling courtyard.
Right on schedule, two figures appeared. One was a hulking Iwa-nin, a big dumbass built like a brick shithouse. The other was slighter, moving with a slithery grace. Kumo flak jacket, viper mask. Figures.
They met in the center of the courtyard, murmuring to each other. Time to go to work.
I flicked a bit of chakra at a pile of rocks, making it sound like a rat scurrying around.
The Iwa-nin's head snapped around. "What was that?" he grunted.
"Stay focused," Viper's voice cut through the air. "It is nothing. A rat."
"I will check it," the big idiot insisted, lumbering off. What a moron.
I gave Judai the signal. Target separated. Kill it.
Judai melted into the ground with the Hiding Like a Mole Technique and popped up right behind the Iwa-nin. No flashy jutsu, no wasted movement. Just a single, chakra-infused slice to the back of the neck. The big man dropped like a sack of rocks, his spine snapped. One down.
In the courtyard, Viper spun around. "Show yourself!"
My turn. I dropped from the trees, kodachi out, aiming to end this fast.
I underestimated the bastard.
He didn't panic. He just flowed backward, impossibly fast, drawing two trench knives. He was a blur, meeting my attack with a fluid, defensive dance. Our blades screeched, spitting sparks in the dark. I pressed, a whirlwind of Root's deadliest taijutsu, but he was a slippery son of a bitch, his knives a wall of steel. He wasn't just a Jounin. He was elite. Shit.
"A Root child soldier," he mused, his voice infuriatingly calm. "Danzō sends children to do his dirty work now? How pathetic."
"I'll show you pathetic when I shove this blade through your fucking mask!" I snarled, feinting high and sweeping low with a kick at his knee.
He saw it coming. He leaped over it, twisted, and smashed the pommel of his knife into my shoulder. Pain exploded through me, hot and sharp, and my arm went numb. I stumbled back, my kodachi clattering against the stone.
Judai moved to intercept, but Viper was already backing off.
"You are skilled, little Cat," he said, and I swear I heard pity in his voice. "But you are out of your depth."
He flashed a single hand sign. Lightning Release: Flash Pillar.
A blinding column of light and electricity erupted between us. The air crackled. When I could see again, he was gone. Vanished. Not a goddamn trace.
We failed. Fucking great.
The walk back to base was silent. The weight of this screw-up was crushing me. I could already imagine the look on Shin's smug face.
He was waiting for us, of course. He listened to my report, his expression blank.
"You failed," he stated. No shit, you blind fuck. "You underestimated your target. You allowed your emotions to create an opening." He glanced at my shoulder. "You are flawed."
He turned his dead-eyed gaze to Judai. "And you. You were hesitant. You are also flawed."
"The target was better than your shitty intel suggested," I shot back, stepping forward. "It was my plan. If you want to punish someone, punish me, you bastard!"
Shin's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Oh, you will be punished. But not in the way you think." He looked at Judai. "Subject Fox, your re-conditioning is insufficient. Your attachment is a liability. It must be purged."
Two Root grunts grabbed Judai's arms. He didn't even flinch. Just stood there, empty.
"No," I whispered, the rage catching in my throat. "Leave him the hell alone! It was my fault!"
"Your punishment, Cat," Shin said, his voice a venomous hiss, "is to watch."
They forced Judai to his knees. Shin walked over, dark chakra crackling around his hand, and placed his palm on Judai's head.
Judai's body went rigid. A choked, strangled sound ripped from his throat. His eyes, empty for so long, went wide with pure, unadulterated agony. His body convulsed as Shin's chakra fried his nervous system, rewriting his mind with brute force.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. I was frozen, forced to watch them torture him, destroying what little was left of the boy I knew. Hot tears of rage streamed down my face. I was crying for him, and for the useless weakness that let this happen.
Every choked gasp he made was another reason to hate them. Every twitch of his body was a promise. The girl who cried, the girl who thought she could save him—she was dead. Burned away by the rage. What was left was cold, hard, and sharp.
I would never fail again. I would become so strong, so perfect, so utterly ruthless that no one could ever touch him again. I would become the weapon they wanted. And one day, I would turn that weapon on them. I am going to burn Root to the goddamn ground, and I'll start with the monster standing right in front of me.
This wasn't about revenge anymore. This was a promise carved in hate. I would build our path to freedom on a mountain of their bones.