As early as the second week after that dinner gathering, Minato Namikaze had already left Konoha on a classified mission outside the village.
The rumors spreading through the shinobi ranks were grim.
The southwestern border was becoming increasingly unstable. Sunagakure had begun deploying its main puppet corps, and their attacks against the Land of Fire's defensive lines were growing more frequent and more vicious. Again and again, their forces struck like an endless swarm of locusts, chewing away at the border and forcing Konoha to respond on multiple fronts.
The atmosphere in the village slowly changed.
It was subtle at first.
A few more patrols.
A few more tense conversations.
A few more shinobi returning to headquarters with tired eyes and bloodstained vests.
The shadow of war had not yet fully fallen over Konoha, but everyone could feel it creeping closer.
At this point, the village had not yet entered the worst phase of the conflict. It was not trapped in the nightmare of a full four-front war, and compared to the chaos that would come later, manpower was still relatively sufficient.
But the Land of Fire was vast.
It bordered too many dangerous regions—the Land of Rain, the Land of Rivers, the Land of Grass, and the Land of Hot Water. Even with border posts and stationed shinobi, there was no way to completely lock down every route in and out of the country.
That meant trouble always slipped through.
Rogue ninja.
Missing-nin.
Enemy spies.
Bandit groups emboldened by unrest.
As the war cloud thickened, all of them became more active.
Because of that, newly promoted genin teams like theirs were no longer given only simple village errands. Their routine had changed. Now they handled daily patrols within a hundred-mile radius of Konoha, investigated suspicious individuals, suppressed scattered bandit groups, and ensured the safety of the logistics routes that kept supplies flowing back toward the village.
These were not especially difficult missions, at least not on paper, but they were no longer harmless either.
Each team had been given signal flares. Usually, no squad would operate more than ten kilometers away from another. If they encountered an enemy they could not handle, they were to fire a flare immediately and wait for support from nearby teams.
Team Minato, however, had yet to use even one.
That was no surprise.
With Kakashi and Ren acting as the pillars of the squad, they were rarely pushed into a corner. Kakashi took charge of Obito whenever things became messy, while Ren naturally supported Rin or held the line wherever pressure was greatest. Unless a real jonin-level enemy appeared, most of their battles ended the same way.
Like chopping melons and slicing vegetables.
Quick.
Clean.
Decisive.
Usually, the only variable was whether Ren wanted to take things seriously.
And lately, he hadn't.
During recent missions, he had deliberately held back from relying on the Three Basic Techniques or his Great Fireball Technique too often. Instead, he had focused on using Phoenix Sage Fire Technique, Dragon Fire Technique, and the Hatake sword style, grinding them through repeated live combat in hopes of raising their favorability through real battle.
Unfortunately…
Most of the enemies they met were painfully mediocre.
Some were little more than armed thugs.
Many couldn't even use ninjutsu.
Quite often, by the time Ren had properly settled into the rhythm of a fight, it was already over. Either Kakashi had cut through the core of the enemy group, or Obito had blown something up loudly enough to make the rest scatter, or Rin had calmly neutralized whoever tried to flee.
Because of that, Ren's favored techniques had been left strangely dissatisfied.
Phoenix Sage Fire Technique especially seemed almost offended by the lack of worthy targets.
Dragon Fire Technique wasn't much better.
If those techniques had mouths, they would probably be complaining every night about how unsatisfying these missions had become.
As a result, whenever Ren returned to Konoha, he still had to continue training afterward to make up for the part of their growth that came from actual practice.
That day was no exception.
After escorting the abducted civilians they had rescued back to a nearby town, Team Minato finally began the return journey to Konoha. The mission report would be filed, the civilians would be handed over, and life would resume its strange balance between ordinary training and wartime preparation.
Once back in the village, the team naturally split up.
Kakashi headed toward the Mission Hall to submit the official report.
Rin went straight to Konoha Hospital to assist with medical work, as she often did.
Obito had run off midway, loudly declaring something about needing a heroic meal after another successful mission.
And Ren—
Ren went alone to the training ground in the southern part of the village.
Even though their team training still continued during this period, it was no longer as concentrated or intense as it had once been under Minato's direct supervision. Their schedules were looser now, and they didn't always train together. Missions, personal development, and the demands of the village had begun pulling them in slightly different directions.
Ren didn't know exactly how far Kakashi or Obito had progressed in their own training.
But he knew what he himself needed.
He had already begun working on a far more dangerous form of chakra control.
Water walking on violent currents.
Not calm ponds.
Not still rivers.
But surging rapids.
And now—
A waterfall.
This kind of training was risky even for experienced shinobi. One mistake in chakra flow, one unstable moment under pressure, and the force of the water could smash a body against stone hard enough to break bones. The only reason Ren dared to push himself this far was because he still had two reliable safety nets: the Substitution Technique and the Transformation Technique. With those as insurance, he could train closer to the edge than most genin would ever dare.
By the time he reached the waterfall, the sun had already begun to slope lower in the sky.
The Naka River roared like a wild beast before him.
Water crashed down from the cliff dozens of meters above, pouring into the pool below like a silver dragon descending from the heavens. The sound alone was overwhelming, a constant thunder that shook the air and turned the surrounding rocks slick with mist.
Ren stopped at the edge and looked up.
His dark eyes followed the curtain of water from top to bottom.
Then he exhaled slowly.
Without another word, he removed his outer clothes and shoes, setting them on a dry stone to one side. Only then did he step forward.
The moment he entered the waterfall's range, he felt it.
A terrifying impact.
The falling water slammed into him like a physical wall, battering his shoulders, skull, and chest all at once.
Splash—!
Only a few seconds later, his chakra control slipped just enough.
That was all it took.
His footing broke, and the water threw him violently downward.
Cold river water engulfed him, dragging at his limbs and spinning him sideways. Fortunately, Ren reacted immediately. He activated the Substitution Technique and reappeared safely off to the side on a protruding rock.
He stood there for a few moments, catching his breath.
Then he went again.
And again.
And again.
Time passed slowly beneath the endless roar of the falls.
At first, he could only hold out for three seconds before being thrown back.
Then five.
Then seven.
Gradually, he began to adapt. His chakra control grew steadier under the impact. He learned how to anchor it not just to the rock beneath his feet, but to his shifting center of gravity, adjusting instinctively as the falling water tried to crush his balance.
After that came the next stage.
Not merely enduring.
But moving.
A step to the left.
Half a turn.
A shift backward.
A controlled correction.
Each tiny improvement was won through repetition, failure, and another bruising plunge into freezing water.
And Ren accepted all of it.
Because this was the kind of training that sharpened real survival.
This was the kind of control he would need one day in battle.
Eventually, after being knocked down once more, he surfaced with wet black hair plastered against his forehead and dragged himself back onto the rocks at the side of the pool.
He was just about to pause for a short breather—
When something in him tightened.
It was not a sound at first.
Not even a clear presence.
Just a faint disturbance.
A sense.
Almost instinctively, Ren turned his head toward the bushes to the right of the waterfall.
And in that brief glance, he saw it.
A flash of white.
Something that looked like a mask.
Then—
Swish!
A piercing sound tore through the air.
Ren moved by pure reflex, jerking his body sideways.
A flash of cold metal shot past his face, so close that he felt the chill of it against his skin. The kunai missed him by mere centimeters before plunging into the waterfall behind him. It struck the smooth rock with a sharp ting and was immediately swept away by the current.
Ren's pupils contracted.
He flipped backward in one motion, landing on a raised stone with his center of gravity low and his body tense.
"Who's there?!"
His gaze locked onto the thicket beside the waterfall.
That was where the kunai had come from.
And that was where he had seen the mask.
Mist drifted between the trees. Branches swayed in the river wind.
At first glance, it looked empty.
Too empty.
Then suddenly—
Whoosh—!
A violent gale burst through the dense spray without warning, like an invisible battering ram smashing through the air. It tore across the water's surface, carving out a fan-shaped vacuum in its path as it came straight for him.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
The attacker finally made their move.
Ren's hands blurred into seals.
This was not the right place for a frontal Fire Release clash. The waterfall, the river, the humidity, the overwhelming volume of water in the environment—using fire here would create dense steam and blindness, possibly giving the hidden attacker exactly what they wanted.
So instead—
"Water Release: Water Wall Technique!"
At once, chakra surged through his body.
The nearby water answered instantly.
The deep pool beneath him and the rushing waterfall beside him became a perfect source. With a violent splash, a thick circular wall of water rose around him, spiraling upward just in time to meet the incoming gale head-on.
Inside Ren's mind, the familiar emotional voice of the technique rang out like an eager oath.
[Water Wall Technique: Has the time finally come for me to protect you? Rest assured—I will give it everything I have!]
[Water Wall Technique Favorability +2!]
Then—
Boom!!!
Wind and water collided with thunderous force.
The water wall shook violently. The surface twisted, rippled, and nearly tore apart under the attack, while countless splashes burst outward in all directions like shattered glass.
But in the end—
It held.
Not perfectly.
Not easily.
But enough.
Ren narrowed his eyes behind the curtain of water and spray, trying to locate the enemy in the trees.
Nothing.
No clear silhouette.
No exposed chakra trail.
Whoever this was, they were cautious.
Disciplined.
And experienced enough not to reveal themselves after the first failed strike.
Then the second attack came.
Several sharp sounds sliced through the air at once.
From the river below the waterfall, multiple compressed streams of water rose upward, twisting at high speed into spear-like fangs. They hissed toward him like venomous snakes, shrieking as they cut through the mist.
Water Release: Water Fang Bullet!
This time, Ren didn't hesitate.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A massive fireball burst from his mouth, swelling to seven or eight meters in diameter as it surged forward in blazing orange-red light.
Not white-hot.
Not his absolute limit.
There were reasons for that.
First, a few hundred degrees of heat was already enough for defense here.
Second—and more importantly—his attacker's identity was deeply suspicious.
This didn't feel like a foreign infiltrator.
It felt too deliberate.
Too controlled.
Too close to home.
There was a strong chance the person hiding in the forest was not an outside enemy at all, but one of the ugly rats lurking within the village itself.
If that was the case, Ren had no intention of exposing too many of his true cards.
The giant fireball crashed into the incoming Water Fang Bullets.
Steam exploded outward.
The waterfall itself seemed to vanish behind a churning white cloud.
In an instant, the entire battlefield became a blur of heat, mist, and roaring water.
Ren's eyes sharpened.
If he couldn't find the attacker by sight—
Then he would stop looking in the obvious way.
Better to use the smoke and steam as a blind spot.
Better to turn the terrain into a shield.
And better still—
To retreat the moment an opening appeared.
Because whoever had come for him today…
Wasn't here by accident.
And that meant this attack was only the beginning.
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