Ninja warfare was infinitely flashier than the samurai wars of old. The sheer difference in audio-visual "special effects" was staggering. After all, traditional samurai didn't have a lick of light shows; they could scream until their throats were raw and still never match the howling roar of a single Wind Style: Great Breakthrough.
Yet, when the focus of a war narrowed down to a single defensive wall, the sight of a dense sea of heads didn't look much different from the old days. The only real difference was that this "wall" was a natural, wind-eroded mesa, the air was filled with constant explosive storms, and the attackers didn't bother with siege engines. They simply sprinted up the near-vertical cliffs, scaling the sixty-meter heights as if they were running on flat ground.
There were many distinct details, of course, but the slaughter concentrated on that single line was no different from the samurai era. Life was consumed at a staggering rate, and the moment one wave was spent, the next rushed up to take its place.
As evening approached and the sun dipped toward the horizon, a crimson glow settled over the desert. Without a single order being given, the Konoha ninjas and the Suna defenders simultaneously pulled back. The fighting ceased by unspoken mutual consent.
Over five thousand Konoha ninjas retreated at a sluggish pace. No one was jumping around; no one was talking. The silence of the column was unnerving. Every face was etched with a mixture of bone-deep exhaustion and the quiet relief of survival.
Shinobi wars usually moved at a slower, more deliberate pace. Over the course of the entire previous year, Suna's total casualties hadn't even reached four thousand. Even during the last forty days of Konoha's final push—a period Suna considered a disastrous string of defeats—only about three thousand Sand ninjas had died.
Those three thousand deaths over forty days had been enough to drive Chiyo and the Kazekage to despair, shattering their confidence in victory.
But in just the last three days, atop that single, bloody stretch of wall, the combined death toll of Konoha and Suna had exceeded seven thousand. This wasn't the "ninja war" anyone was familiar with.
This rate of attrition was horrific. Even the Konoha ninjas, who held the upper hand and had suffered slightly fewer losses, were reaching the limits of their psychological endurance.
Aburame Tetsumaru stood atop a sand dune with his three disciples. The four of them watched the winding column of Konoha ninjas with complex emotions.
Inuzuka O was the first to break the somber mood. "Teacher, are we waiting for someone?"
"That's right. I am waiting for someone," Tetsumaru smiled. The people he was looking for had finally appeared. "It's time for a long-overdue class reunion."
Inuzuka Takeshi walked with his head hanging low, his spirit dampened by the day's slaughter. Suddenly, he caught a scent—familiar yet distant. As he looked up and scanned the area, a Gadfly buzzed against his forehead. It circled his head three times before flying off toward a distant dune.
Takeshi looked up. He could just make out figures standing on the ridge. He squinted, confirming that someone was indeed waving at him. He couldn't just ignore it.
"Aburame Tetsumaru?"
"Inuzuka Takeshi!"
"Takeshi-ge!?" Inuzuka O shouted, his eyes wide. "You're here too?"
Takeshi looked at the boy, then at Tetsumaru, realization dawning on him. "O? You... you became Tetsumaru's subordinate?"
Inuzuka O pouted and began to grumble, "We've been with Teacher for over a year! You didn't even know, Takeshi-ge? You really don't care about your family at all."
"Don't get mad," Takeshi laughed, though his eyes were tired. "I've been busy. I was stationed on the eastern front this whole time and didn't have a chance to ask about you. It'll be easier to keep in touch from now on."
"Hmph. If you were too scared to ask, just say so," O replied, having picked up a bit of his teacher's thick-skinned attitude. "I didn't dare ask about you either! Hahaha!"
During a war, people often vanished without a word. If relatives weren't on the same battlefield, they often avoided asking for news. No news was good news—at least it meant there was still a sliver of hope.
"Hm?" Uchiha Hiro also spotted a familiar face. "Fueka-ge is here as well."
The relationship between the two Uchiha "brothers" wasn't close; they barely knew each other well enough to recognize one another. They exchanged a brief nod before Hiro returned to his combat preparations while Uchiha Fueka walked over to greet his classmates.
"Uchiha Fueka, you made it."
"Nara Mao, Yamanaka Ame, Akimichi Daidou... it's been a long time."
"Too long, too long."
"Mao-ge!" Nara Yoshito called out, joining the circle.
Tetsumaru, whose Domain Field Barrier gave him a visual range far exceeding the Sharingan or Byakugan, soon spotted the final member of their group. He pointed him out to Takeshi. "Look who else is here."
Takeshi, ever the Inuzuka, didn't need to look twice. He roared, "Hyuga Tokuma!"
Tokuma looked over, said something to the person beside him, and—after receiving a nod of permission—walked over. The increasingly solemn young man began to smile as he approached.
Tetsumaru saw that the two chatterboxes of the Inuzuka clan were nearly done with their initial exchange, so he dispatched a Shadow Clone to lead his three students away, allowing him to properly greet his old friends.
Yamanaka Ame nodded solemnly. "After a whole year of war, it's a miracle that none of our close friends have fallen. To be reunited here in the Land of Wind... we're lucky."
Uchiha Fueka added, "Yeah. We all seem to be Chunin now. Oh, wait—except for Tetsumaru. He's already a Jonin. A veteran one, at that."
Tetsumaru waved his hands dismissively, self-deprecatingly saying, "Tch. Just a Tokubetsu Jonin. Basically just a senior Chunin."
Nara Mao disagreed. "The Tokubetsu Jonin rank is about to become an official permanent grade, and it's considered part of the Jonin corps."
"It makes sense. There are plenty of monsters among the Chunin who just haven't made the jump to full Jonin yet."
During the catch-up, two Genin approached Uchiha Fueka, received an order, and departed.
"Fueka, you've finally become a squad leader. Congratulations," Tetsumaru noted. "Was that your Uchiha squad?"
Fueka shook his head. "They are my subordinates, but my unit isn't called an Uchiha squad. It's the Mitsui Squad."
"Captain Mitsui..."
Fueka's eyes reddened slightly, and he gave a silent, forced nod.
The mention of the fallen opened a floodgate of somber memories.
"Does anyone remember Tairyu? The chubby guy?"
"Dead. Killed by the Mist last year."
"What about Hiroji?"
"Gone in the Land of Ta. Bad luck—he ran into a Kumo Jonin while on patrol."
"..."
Yamanaka Ame asked softly, "So... out of our entire class, there are only six of us left?"
She looked at Nara Mao, hoping he would contradict her. The others turned their hopeful gazes toward the smartest member of their circle.
Mao shook his head sadly. "No one else. There were four other classmates alive until three days ago, but they were lost on the walls of Suna. This isn't how war is supposed to be fought. Between Suna and Konoha, too many people have died these last three days."
Silence fell over the group.
"Actually, the fact that six of us are left is already a good ratio," Uchiha Fueka said, trying to comfort them. "The class next to ours had it worse. Even my cousin, Hideki, is gone."
"You mean the poor guy who got hit by Tetsumaru's itching powder back in school? He's gone too?"
"The Uchiha have taken heavy losses," Akimichi Daidou said in surprise. "I thought you guys would have fared better."
Hyuga Tokuma sighed. "How could we? Our enemies are Great Nations and Great Hidden Villages. Even coming from a prestigious clan doesn't offer much advantage. On the contrary, it makes you a bigger target. It's more dangerous."
It seemed the Hyuga had suffered significantly as well.
"Tokuma, you were the first of us to become a Chunin. Are you a squad leader now?"
"I'm currently serving as a guard for Lord Hiashi."
"A guard for the heir of the Main House? Damn, that means they view you as a Jonin-level asset. You're moving up fast."
Tetsumaru rubbed his chin and probed, "I heard Hiashi is set to become the next Hyuga Clan Head soon. Congratulations on backing the right horse."
Tokuma's eyes widened in shock. "How do you know that?"
Nara Mao answered lazily, "We guessed. The Hyuga love their 'pointless' secrets. The only member of the Main House active on the battlefield? It's too obvious."
Tokuma: "..."
The Main House elders and Branch House elders had spent countless meetings stressing the importance of secrecy, and it turned out to be a complete waste of time. Should I report this when I get back?
Forget it. If I say nothing, nothing happens. If I speak up, I'll probably just get punished.
"Alright, let's leave the sad topics behind. Everyone, go get some rest," Tetsumaru said. "It's my turn to take the stage."
"Be careful. Don't be the first one among us to kick the bucket."
"Don't worry. I'm not going up there myself," Tetsumaru said. Suddenly, he vanished in a puff of white smoke.
"A Shadow Clone? Since when!?"
Hyuga Tokuma saw the others looking at him for an answer. He scratched his cheek. "A while ago. Right at the moment it turned completely dark."
Takeshi was outraged. "You knew? And he told you?"
"He gave me a signal before he left, told me to keep it quiet."
"He told me too."
"Me too..."
"Son of a—!"
The five of them were livid, vowing to settle the score with Tetsumaru later.
"He owes us ten rounds of BBQ! Minimum!" Unsurprisingly, this was Akimichi Daidou's suggestion.
"Agreed."
Takeshi roared, "I want a serious spar with him! I want to see just how strong a 'Tokubetsu Jonin' really is."
Uchiha Fueka rolled his eyes and turned to leave. "Idiot."
"Takeshi, use your head," Nara Mao added helpfully. "Do you think the very first Tokubetsu Jonin is going to be the same as a regular one? Don't be stupid. Tetsumaru is in a different league now."
Mao walked off with Ame and Daidou. Takeshi stood there, stunned, and looked at Tokuma, the only one who hadn't left yet. "Aren't you going to say something?"
Tokuma had already taken a few steps. He stopped and sighed at the bewildered Takeshi.
"Do you remember when Tetsumaru sent a Shadow Clone to lead his team away?"
Takeshi nodded repeatedly. "Yeah, so?"
"He didn't just send one. He sent two. After that, he kept creating Shadow Clones—every single time our eyes weren't on him, he made another. Every. Single. Time."
Takeshi stared at Tokuma, his eyes full of question marks. What are you talking about?
Tokuma let out a long sigh and spelled it out. "In the time we were talking, he dispatched over thirty Shadow Clones. Do you have any idea how much chakra that requires?"
"And every time he made one, he timed it perfectly with the exact moment all five of us were looking away. He didn't mess up once. He didn't miss a single opening. Do you realize what kind of terrifying observation skills that takes?"
"Aburame Tetsumaru... as a ninja, he's probably already surpassed the Jonin level."
If the Konoha ninjas had left the battlefield drenched in exhaustion and relief, the Suna ninjas were waiting for the next clash in a state of wooden despair.
After three days of unprecedentedly fierce combat, followed by a night of relentless insect harassment, the Sand were at their breaking point.
The moment the sun dipped below the horizon was their only brief window of peace. They numbly drank water and chewed on dry rations. Some were too exhausted to eat, simply collapsing on the mesa to sleep; others focused on sharpening their weapons.
The instant the sun vanished completely, tens of thousands of "sand fountains" erupted around Sunagakure. The sand hissed as it shot up to the height of a man. From the vantage point of the mesa, it looked as if the entire desert were erupting.
Two seconds later, the fountains transformed into a swarming mass of insects. The deafening buzz of their wings was overwhelming.
"He hid them right under our noses," Chiyo muttered in shock. "That cunning insect-user."
"Our losses are going to be even worse now. We should have spread poison earlier."
The Kazekage cut off his subordinate's grumbling. "Stop the useless talk. Those bugs likely tunneled here during the day. If we had spread poison, he would have just had them emerge somewhere else."
The Kazekage turned and gave the order. "Let them begin."
"Yes, sir!"
Over four hundred Molotov cocktails were launched into the sky by mechanical catapults. In mid-air, the bottles were accurately shattered by Wind Style, and the fuel was dispersed by a violent gust, turning into a massive chemical cloud.
Just as the locust swarm flew into the fuel-cloud, several incendiaries streaked into the mist.
Tetsumaru realized Suna's intent instantly. A manual thermobaric bomb?
He immediately issued a command to his three disciples via their link. "Everyone! Prepare for the shockwave! Cover your ears, open your mouths, and crouch! Do NOT lie flat on the ground!"
A blinding flash lit the desert, followed by a mountain of rising dust. Visibility on the battlefield dropped to zero instantly.
For a moment, it seemed like no one near Sunagakure could hear a thing. Ordinary civilians felt a sudden pressure in their heads before losing consciousness.
The Suna ninjas didn't pass out, but they were hit with a wave of nausea. It was a small price to pay—they watched with glee as the swarm that had blanketed the sky was incinerated into ash in a single heartbeat.
Morale surged. The Sand ninjas stood and cheered.
"Die, you damn bugs!"
"Finally! Those things were more annoying than flies. Burned to a crisp!"
"Teacher, what do we do now?" Nara Yoshito's voice crackled through a small Telephone Snail (Communication Snail) perched on Tetsumaru's shoulder.
Tetsumaru took the prototype snail in his hand. "Do not enter the blast zone," he said softly. "It is currently a vacuum—a dead zone where you cannot breathe."
"I will use a jutsu to clear the zone. After that, you are to command the swarm to launch a full-scale assault. Send in everything, including the Scythe-Mantises. I want every inch of that wall covered in bugs."
The Suna cheers died down quickly as silence returned to the field, broken only by the whistling wind and the pitter-patter of falling sand.
"Attention! Southwest! Massive chakra signature!"
Several sensory ninjas shrieked the alarm at once. Every Suna ninja stared into the darkness and dust, but they could see nothing.
Sixteen versions of Aburame Tetsumaru stood in a spread-out line. With perfectly synchronized movements, they wove a series of hand seals, their chakra resonating in unison.
Wind Style: Super Air Current!
It was the debut of his "Single-User Shadow Clone Legion Jutsu"—a solution Tetsumaru had designed to overcome his limitations in chakra output efficiency. A single mind was far better at synchronizing with itself than a group of different people. It was a success on the very first try.
A violent gale tore through the vacuum, clearing the dust and replenishing the air, reopening the path to the mesa.
The swarm that had been hovering at the edges, hesitant to move, felt the command of the three disciples. They surged forward once more. The sound of millions of chitinous exoskeletons clashing together was so loud not even the howling wind could drown it out.
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