Kawaki Aoba's Gamble
Kawaki Aoba knew full well that if even Kurenai-sensei couldn't gain the upper hand, then his shadow clones stood even less of a chance. But that didn't stop him from trying.
He was determined to use the lives of his clones as decoys—to create a fleeting opening for Kurenai-sensei to approach Akasuna no Sasori's real body.
However, no matter how they attacked, no matter how much chakra they poured into their tactics, their efforts barely scratched the surface. Reaching Sasori's true body seemed impossible.
Before they could fully retreat, they had already exhausted themselves trying to stall Sasori within the confines of Daiku Lake City.
Both Aoba and Kurenai felt the weight of futility pressing on them. Against a puppet master of Sasori's caliber, with his near-immortal puppet body and mastery over poison and traps, their chakra reserves and cloning jutsu offered little advantage. They lacked decisive offensive power.
All they could do was sacrifice their clones one after another.
Frustration simmered within them—and within Sasori as well.
He couldn't understand how two relatively unremarkable Konoha shinobi could possess such large chakra reserves, enough to create wave after wave of shadow clones to delay him.
Together, the chakra they had expended was comparable to that of a Jinchūriki.
---
Yuhi Kurenai's Ambition
"So, I finally got rid of all of them," Sasori muttered, his expression clouded as he used Hiruko to crush the last of Kurenai's clones.
He had reached the outskirts of Daiku Lake City. As expected, footprints were scattered in every direction. The squad hadn't even tried to cover their tracks—either because they didn't care, or they knew it wouldn't matter.
Unwilling to gamble on which direction they'd fled, Sasori turned back toward the center of the city. If memory served, one of their companions had been left behind.
Konoha ninjas always talk about how much they value their comrades, he sneered inwardly. Looks like that's just talk.
He reached the motionless Konoha operative and dispatched him with a single, cold strike. Harvesting parts from the body, Sasori vented his irritation. Though he had the means to extract intel through interrogation or poisons, he couldn't be bothered.
Starting wars over sentimentality or politics never interested him.
As he was preparing to return to his underground lair to collect his materials and leave, something caught his eye.
A ball of compacted iron sand surrounding a rare-earth magnet.
A neodymium magnet?
It was coated in finely ground iron particles—clearly used to disrupt magnetic-based chakra techniques.
So this was used to counter the Third Kazekage's Magnet Release? Sasori thought, intrigued. The magnetic signature is... unusual.
Curious, he collected all of the magnets Kawaki Aoba had scattered during the battle and stored them away.
---
A Narrow Escape
Under the blanket of night, two figures—one tall and one small—hurried across the dunes, each carrying an unconscious body.
While there was a small chance Sasori might pursue them, neither was willing to risk it. They fled as fast as their legs could carry them.
Only at dawn, after crossing the border into the Land of Rivers, did they dare to stop.
"This mission was insane, huh, Kurenai-sensei?" Aoba exhaled deeply, slumping against a rock. "But getting a firsthand look at Sasori... we got more intel than we hoped for."
Across from him, Yuhi Kurenai scowled darkly.
"How long are you planning to hold your teacher, brat?"
"Oh—sorry! Sorry!" Kawaki Aoba stammered, hastily putting her down. Her cheeks had turned a noticeable shade of red.
In truth, he had known for hours that Sasori had stopped chasing them. His advanced sensory skills—his version of Kagura Shingan—extended for over twenty kilometers. But... he had pretended otherwise, just to hold her a little longer.
Still, he couldn't afford to take chances. He hadn't forgotten what had happened to their comrade.
He had "seen" it clearly through his sensory field—how their left-behind companion was executed.
In truth, they could have taken him. There had been just enough chakra to spare a clone. But last night, the man had seen too much.
And Aoba, betrayed once by a comrade he trusted, wasn't willing to make the same mistake again.
Yet what surprised him most was that Kurenai-sensei hadn't tried to save the man either. That, more than anything, lingered in his thoughts.
Unbeknownst to him, Kurenai had already begun to view Aoba as something far more than a subordinate. He reminded her of someone dear—and she would not risk his life for a stranger again.
She also had her own ambitions.
Kurenai Yuhi had seen too many good shinobi fall prey to the hidden politics of the village. Her mind drifted to a former classmate from a minor clan who could animate ink into reality. They had been forced into an alliance with Danzo's Root during the Second Shinobi War... and the clan had vanished soon after. Their techniques ended up in Root's archives.
She never learned the full story, but it was a cautionary tale she never forgot.
Now, this boy, Kawaki Aoba, possessed a mysterious potion—one that seemed to flood him with chakra, almost mimicking the effects of a Tailed Beast Cloak.
She had seen it on the battlefield. That chakra surge, the bubbling aura—it was no ordinary drug. There was more to it.
And if the potion could be mass-produced...
Kurenai's thoughts grew bolder.
Aoba is an orphan... talented... loyal. If he marries my daughter, and we form a clan... with that kind of foundation...
Everything he possessed could become the cornerstone of a new bloodline.
But how much of that potion does he have left?
If there was enough, perhaps together, they could craft a secret technique powerful enough to rival the Jinchūriki. A legacy born not from the Will of Fire, but from pure talent, cunning—and ambition.
Yuhi Kurenai had always been confident in her talent. As a kunoichi who rose from a civilian background, she worked hard to master and innovate powerful genjutsu. Her achievements had surpassed many of her peers.
Granted, her performance during the encounter with Akasuna no Sasori was poor—but that wasn't entirely her fault. Sasori's abilities were simply too effective against her skillset.
Moreover, Sasori had deliberately avoided letting her get close, aware of the threat posed by her close-range genjutsu.
As for long-range genjutsu—Kurenai had tried. But against Sasori, a master puppeteer with Jonin-level puppets and a high resistance to illusions, such techniques were either ineffective or easily countered. In that intense battlefield, there was barely any room to initiate another move.
While the team rested, Kurenai had no idea that her father was already thinking of the future—of building a family legacy through her potential bond with Kawaki Aoba.
But that wasn't what concerned her at the moment.
Looking from her father to Kawaki Aoba, she summoned her courage and asked, "Father, didn't we leave someone behind just now? And wasn't he the very target of our mission? Does that mean... we've failed?"
It was the first mission failure their team had ever faced. It was hard not to care.
Nearby, Asuma Sarutobi, who had been silent since their retreat, finally looked up.
Kurenai's words triggered a memory—of the companion they had left behind... the very objective of their mission.
He also remembered one of his classmate's fathers from the Academy.
Hatake Sakumo—the White Fang of Konoha. A shinobi who was once disgraced for abandoning a mission to save his comrades. He had later taken his own life over the shame.
Their team had done something even worse—not only had they failed the mission, but they had also abandoned their objective, a fellow shinobi.
Wasn't this far more disgraceful than Sakumo's choice?
Kurenai and Aoba both understood the concern weighing on her. But in truth, her worries were unfounded. Kurenai Yuhi wasn't in danger of becoming a scapegoat like the White Fang.
Still, Kurenai couldn't deny the sense of shame gnawing at her. She knew she didn't have the prestige or protection that Sakumo once had. If the village chose to turn her into a scapegoat, she doubted there'd be any mercy.
As a Jonin, Kurenai had enough political awareness to sense the truth behind the White Fang incident—it wasn't just about the mission. It was a maneuver in a larger power struggle within Konoha's leadership.
And White Fang didn't have to die. The village higher-ups might be heartless, but few likely wanted his death. Who would've thought a shinobi as powerful as Hatake Sakumo could be so "fragile"?
It had been a tragedy—an accident no one wanted.
Kurenai shook off her thoughts and turned toward Kawaki Aoba.
She appreciated his potential—his strength, calm judgment, and ruthlessness when necessary. But she wanted to test his thinking.
"Aoba, this is the first failure since our team was formed. What's your take on it?"
Kawaki Aoba hesitated for a moment, thinking Kurenai was asking for Yuhi's sake. He answered frankly, "I feel ashamed that we failed the mission and couldn't save that Konoha operative. But if I had another chance, I'd still make the same choice. It was the right one."
"You all saw the puppet Sasori used—the Third Kazekage, right? Reporting that intel to the Hokage is more important than the original mission."
He paused, adding his personal thoughts. Though the exact timeline of the Third Great Ninja War eluded him, he knew the disappearance of the Third Kazekage was a major trigger.
Now they had seen Sasori, who had not only defected but turned the Kazekage into a human puppet. The war could start at any time.
Kawaki Aoba was sure Konoha didn't yet realize the seriousness of the situation. His proof stood right before him.
He glanced at Sarutobi Asuma.
If Hiruzen Sarutobi truly anticipated the coming war, would he have allowed his son on such a risky mission without even assigning Anbu protection?
Before he could go on, Asuma interjected.
"Are you saying intel is more important than the mission or comrades? That's too extreme, Aoba." Asuma frowned, displeased.
Kawaki sensed the frustration in his voice—but it played right into the discussion he wanted.
"Asuma, there's no absolute in these things. Priorities shift. When it comes to companions, there's a difference between close and distant ones."
"For example, if any of you were in danger, even if it meant I couldn't bring back intel, I'd risk everything to save you."
"But strangers? People I don't know? I'm sorry, but I wouldn't risk my life for them."
"In the case earlier, the intelligence we could deliver far outweighed the life of that operative."
Hearing the first part of the sentence, Asuma felt a flicker of relief—his friend wasn't completely cold. But when Aoba emphasized sacrificing others for the intel, he felt tightness in his chest.
"You're about to argue, aren't you, Asuma?" Kawaki said with a soft smile, having sensed his friend's emotional shift through observation—perhaps even with Kenbunshoku Haki.
Asuma was left speechless.
The entire team turned to Kawaki Aoba as his smile faded.
"Instructor Kurenai, what do you think happens to a village that loses its Kage?" he asked.
Kurenai frowned. He had pondered that question earlier—what would Sunagakure do after losing their Kazekage?
Recalling the Hokage's instructions before departure, Kurenai answered cautiously, "They'll probably stir border conflicts to vent unrest and demonstrate strength."
That was all he could speculate from the limited intel they had.
But Aoba wasn't satisfied.
"Even you underestimate the significance of this information, Instructor. I believe the Third Shinobi World War is about to begin."
"Cough... Aoba," Kurenai said, visibly uneasy. "I get that you want to express your views, but this is going too far. Yes, Sasori turned the Kazekage into a puppet—shocking, no doubt—but to say that'll trigger a world war…"
He trailed off, unwilling to say more.
Kawaki Aoba got the message. It was frustrating. He knew the truth, yet his age and status left even his own Jonin instructor skeptical.
What a helpless feeling.