"Cthulhu?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Shinko Aburame's voice didn't sound human at the time. He could only make out some bits and pieces words."
Might Guy's story left the group in stunned silence. No one knew how to respond, so they shoved three-colored dango into their mouths, letting the sweetness on their tongues ease their rattled nerves.
"Oh, right, I need to get back to do the chores and clean in our dojo business. Seniors, I'll take my leave for today."
"Oh—uh, sure. See you later."
A flicker of relief crossed Might Guy's face—not because Hayate was leaving, but because his timely exit softened the tense atmosphere.
Orimaru bowed politely to the three still seated in the dango shop and followed Hayate out.
"What an adorable little brother," Kurenai said with a smile, watching Orimaru and Hayate walk away.
Asuma, a twinge of jealousy flaring, quickly changed the subject. "So, who do you think could pull off something like that? What kind of ninja could do this?"
"A ninja?" Might Guy, who had witnessed the chaos at the village gates the previous day, wasn't convinced a ninja could be responsible.
But in this world, who else but a ninja could wield such terrifying power?
So, it had to be a ninja, right?
"Probably genjutsu," Kurenai offered, picking up the thread of speculation. "But a genjutsu that ignores distance and carries such overwhelming power? I've never heard of anything like it. It must be some mysterious, incredibly potent technique."
As the most skilled genjutsu user among her peers, Kurenai came from a family renowned for illusion techniques. If she deemed it a powerful genjutsu, it was undoubtedly so.
"But if it is genjutsu," she added, "only that clan could pull it off."
Kurenai's words hung in the air, and both Guy and Asuma knew exactly which clan she meant.
The Uchiha.
Since the Nine-Tails incident last year, tensions between the village and the Uchiha clan had worsened. To prevent further escalation, the Third Hokage had ordered all ninja to tread carefully when discussing the Uchiha, avoiding anything that might stoke conflict.
But it was undeniable: the village's trust in the Uchiha was crumbling.
"No matter who's behind it, Kurenai, I'll protect you," Asuma declared, standing and thumping his chest.
"You…" Kurenai's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but her heart fluttered with quiet joy.
At the table, Might Guy tactfully averted his gaze, only to catch sight of several dark figures darting across the rooftops across the street.
The Anbu.
Leading them was a figure whose face was hidden by a mask, but whose unmistakable white hair Guy recognized instantly.
"Kakashi…"
---
Midnight at the Moonlight Dojo.
Beneath the pale glow of the moon, a lone figure diligently practiced sword swings in the center of the dojo.
"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-eight."
"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine."
"Ten thousand."
Training complete, Tsukikage Hayate sheathed his blade and walked to the side of the dojo. He picked up a towel, wiping the sweat from his brow.
It had been over seven months since he inherited the dojo from his parents.
Hayate and Orimaru's parents had perished in the Nine-Tails incident the previous year. As the eldest son, Hayate's inheritance of the dojo was only natural.
A reluctant inheritance, but an inheritance nonetheless.
The Moonlight Dojo was a training ground dedicated to teaching Konoha's ninja the Konoha-Style Swordsmanship.
This swordsmanship, created by the Second Hokage, was one of the few techniques he developed that could be passed down.
Originally one of his personal trump cards, the Second Hokage taught it to several Konoha ninja to preserve it and strengthen the village.
The Tsukikage family was tasked with carrying on this legacy.
Though it was now publicly claimed as the Tsukikage family's secret technique, in truth, any Konoha ninja could learn it at the Moonlight Dojo—for a fee.
Perhaps the least secret of all "secret techniques."
After the Nine-Tails incident, many ninja came to see the Konoha-Style Swordsmanship as inadequate. Its promise of lethal precision seemed impressive, but in the face of overwhelming power, it only led to senseless sacrifice.
Hayate's parents were proof of that. Some were swatted away by the Nine-Tails' tails before even reaching its body; others who got close saw their blades shatter and their lives end in an instant.
Konoha-Style Swordsmanship required as much training as any ninjutsu, yet its grim outcomes deterred new students. After the Nine-Tails incident, the dojo's enrollment plummeted, leaving only one student.
But Hayate didn't curse his fate.
At times, he wondered if the decline of Konoha-Style Swordsmanship was inevitable, if the dojo itself might one day close its doors. Yet the thought of that single remaining student kept him going. Every night, he trained until midnight, ensuring his skills stayed sharp so he could teach with the authority of a master.
Even if that student was only a year younger than him.
After a moment of reflection, Hayate made his nightly visit to Orimaru's room.
He gently slid the door open, the moonlight streaming through the window providing enough light to see.
Orimaru lay on his side, his back to the door, hiding his sleeping face from Hayate.
Seeing his younger brother's small frame, Hayate's heart stirred with mixed emotions.
After the Nine-Tails incident, Orimaru had fallen gravely ill for a month, teetering on the edge of death. The doctors had warned that his survival depended solely on his will to live.
For that month, Hayate never left his last remaining family member's side, praying fervently for his recovery.
Then, one day, a miracle happened. Orimaru survived.
But the brother who awoke was different. Gone was the childish innocence he once had. Though he sometimes spoke like a child, Hayate sensed it was a deliberate act to ease his worries.
Along with this change came a spider.
Hayate approached the desk in Orimaru's room. Instead of books, it held a large glass terrarium.
After his recovery, Orimaru had spent every ryo he'd saved over the years to purchase this terrarium from the Aburame clan.
But it didn't house ordinary insects.
Inside was a spider.
A massive spider with a grotesque, human-like face.
(End of Chapter)