Ch 148

They would come looking for me. Tsunade, Kakashi, maybe even Shikaku or Asuma if they were quick enough. 

I knew them well enough to know they wouldn't just sit in that room and let me disappear without a trace. Not after the way I broke down. Not after I ran. 

And that was exactly what Danzo wanted. I saw it now, clear as daylight. He didn't need to kill me. 

He just needed me to strike first. One attack, one burst of chakra, one flicker of intentnand when the others arrived, they'd see it for what he wanted them to see. 

A rogue Uchiha. Unstable. Dangerous. A threat. He could wrap it up in protocol and concern and make it seem like he had only come here to contain me. 

A manipulated girl, spinning out of control. It would be a neat little story. One that would justify locking me away, or worse. 

I stared at him, my hand still clenched around the bloodied shard of glass, my arm aching, my wounds sticky and sore. 

Every part of me screamed to throw it. To end this. To make the look in his eye stop. But if I did that, I'd prove every word he said. I'd give him exactly what he wanted. 

Not like this. 

Think. 

I closed my eyes for just a second, feeling the area of the field around me. The position of the hidden Root. The slight shift in the wind. My chakra was still flaring faintly from earlier, still too unstable to risk a full leap or jutsu without alerting them. 

If I ran, they'd follow. 

If I fought, I'd lose more than my life. 

I'd lose myself. 

I needed an exit that didn't involve blood. Mine or theirs. 

Distraction. That was my best option. Something sudden, something explosive, enough to give me cover, make them think I fled west while I circled around. 

But more importantly, I had to not attack. Not leave a mark. Not confirm their worst assumptions. I had to disappear without becoming the enemy they feared. 

Danzo was watching me too closely now, his expression unreadable, his body still. He knew I'd figured it out. Maybe he was hoping that would break me too. 

That the knowledge alone would tip me over. But I straightened slowly, lowering the shard, not dropping it, not quite ready to surrender it either. 

"You always did know how to twist the knife without touching it," I murmured. 

I let my eyes flick once more across the treeline. Five sets of eyes. Five weapons waiting for a reason. I wouldn't give them one. Not today. 

The field went still. Wind rippled through the tall grass, brushing against my legs like a warning. The sun was warm, too warm, almost mocking in how gentle it felt against the tension hanging thick in the air. 

My heartbeat had slowed, not from calm, but from clarity. I wasn't out of danger. Not even close. But I knew what this was now. 

Danzo stood across from me, hands at his sides, one eye sharp beneath the shadow of his bandages. He didn't move. He didn't need to. 

That was the game, he said his piece, planted his seeds, and now waited for me to react. To prove him right. I didn't. 

Behind us, I could feel them, his hidden Root. Five, exactly where I'd marked them. None of them breathed loud, none of them shifted, but I knew. 

My Sharingan didn't need to see them to feel the tension, the held breath of trained killers waiting for a signal. They wouldn't hesitate. And neither could I. 

I stood with the glass shard still gripped tight in my hand, blood dripping slowly from my fingers into the grass. 

I didn't lower it fully. I didn't raise it either. Just held it, balanced on a thread between threat and retreat. Danzo watched me. I watched them all.  

The first thing I noticed was the shift in the wind, not in the grass, but in the chakra. 

Two signatures. Familiar. Fast. 

Tsunade. 

Kakashi. 

I didn't know how far they were, but they were closing in, and fast enough that my instincts screamed they were coming straight here. 

My Sharingan sharpened, scanning the horizon. There, flashes of chakra movement, one heavy like a storm barely contained, the other calm and precise, like a blade already halfway drawn. 

Danzo noticed them just after I did. I saw the flicker in his eye, the way his fingers flexed ever so slightly at his side. 

And then he did it. He raised his cane, just barely off the ground. It looked like nothing. Like a man shifting weight to adjust his stance. 

But it was a signal. The moment it moved, one of the hidden Root operatives burst from cover, hands flying into seals. 

I recognized them before the jutsu was even cast. Tiger. Horse. Dragon. Boar. Snake. Tiger. 

Great Fireball Jutsu. My heart dropped. A massive sphere of flame tore from his mouth, hurtling toward me, no, past me. 

I turned mid-step, eyes widening. The fireball wasn't meant for me. It was aimed for the clearing's edge, where Tsunade and Kakashi were arriving. 

"No," I breathed, too late, too slow. He wouldn't. 

Danzo didn't even blink. He just stood there. Like this was all part of the plan. And of course it was. 

He didn't need me to attack. He just needed a fight to start. Chaos would write the rest of the story. 

I moved on instinct. No more hesitation. Ram. Rat. Snake. Water exploded from my lungs, a concentrated torrent slamming into the wall of flame. 

It hissed and cracked violently, slowing the fireball, pushing against it hard. But not enough. It still roared forward, smaller but not extinguished. 

Tsunade and Kakashi would survive it. Burned, injured, rattled but not dead. And when they looked for who started it? They'd see me. 

The moment I unleashed the water jutsu, more movement followed. Three Root operatives reacted instantly. 

Kunai flew from the trees, from the grass, sharp, fast, silent. I saw them glint midair, all aimed at my chest, my throat, my stomach. 

I twisted sideways, catching one mid-spin with my hand. The blade bit into my palm, but it was better than the alternative. 

The other two missed by inches, one tearing through the side of my shirt, the other embedding into the dirt behind me. 

Then the last Root member broke from their position, charging straight for me. No hesitation. Just the clean, brutal speed of trained assassins. 

My Sharingan spun. I dropped low, flipped backward to gain distance, heart pounding in my throat. 

I hadn't attacked anyone, but Danzo had made it look like I had. He didn't need truth. He just needed a scene. And now it was playing out exactly how he wanted. 

They were forcing my hand. Trying to push me into being the threat. But I wasn't going down like this. 

The group of fighters surrounded me, their faces set with grim determination. I raised an eyebrow, a sardonic smirk playing on my lips. 

"Five against one?" I muttered, voice sharp and ragged. "Typical." 

They didn't answer. They didn't need to. Root agents never talked. They just acted. And right now, they were acting to kill. 

My breath was already uneven. Blood ran sticky down my left arm, the deep gash from the glass burning hotter with every heartbeat. 

I couldn't move that side, not without white-hot pain ripping through my shoulder. My Sharingan spun, scanning the terrain, their chakra, their angles. 

I could see every attack a second before it came. It was the only reason I was still breathing. One Root leapt forward, katana gleaming as it slashed toward my ribs. 

I ducked, pivoted, grabbed his wrist with my good hand, and slammed my knee into his elbow with a sickening crack. His arm bent wrong, bone shattered. 

He didn't scream. He just dropped the blade and spun a kick toward my head. I dodged. Barely. 

Another agent flanked me, silent as a shadow, kunai flashing for my throat. I turned in time to block it with the back of my forearm. 

It sliced deep, drawing blood, but not fatal. I caught him by the neck and slammed him into the ground hard enough to make the dirt crack. Not to kill. Just to stop him. 

More were coming. Always more. One weaved through hand signs. A blast of wind chakra exploded toward me like a cannon. 

I threw myself sideways, rolling in the dirt as it tore up the grass and rocks around me. My side screamed. My arm was fire. I could barely push myself up before another Root dove at me from behind. 

I spun and drove the heel of my boot into her sternum, sending her flying back into a tree. She dropped, coughing, but she wasn't done either. None of them stayed down. 

Blood dripped from my lip. My body was screaming, adrenaline masking most of the pain. One caught me in the thigh with a short blade, just under my hip, I screamed, rage twisting through me, and knocked him back with a full-body spin that sent both of us sprawling. 

They meant to kill me. And I wasn't trying to kill them. Another agent lunged, this one faster, a blur of steel and chakra. 

I ducked under his swing, shoved him hard into his teammate, and sent the both of them tumbling with a water-enhanced palm strike. 

My jutsu cracked against their chests, enough to leave bruises, maybe fractures, but not kill. My left arm hung useless now, blood soaking through the shredded cloth. 

I couldn't raise it. I couldn't use it. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming again. A blade slashed at my neck. I tilted just enough, just enough, for it to graze my jawline instead. 

"Is this what you wanted?!" I shouted, fury cracking through my voice as I caught another kunai with my bare hand, the blade cutting through my fingers. 

"I'm not the one drawing blood!" But they didn't care. Their silence was as loud as screams. They fought without mercy, without hesitation. 

I smashed one to the ground with a brutal elbow to the temple. Another I swept off her feet with a low kick that sent her sprawling, breath knocked from her lungs. 

Still another threw a barrage of shuriken, I shielded myself with a mud wall that only barely held. They were trying to wear me down. 

And it was working. I was slipping. Bleeding. Slower every second. My Sharingan blurred with sweat and tears. 

But I refused to let it end like this. Blood streaked down my left arm, mingling with dirt and sweat as I dodged another strike from the Root member closest to me. 

My shoulder was on fire, and I could barely feel my fingers anymore. Still, I fought. I had to. I twisted midair and slammed both feet into one operative's chest, knocking him backward into the one behind him. 

It bought me a breath, nothing more. I spun again, Sharingan whirring to keep pace with their every movement, and locked eyes with the agent nearest me. 

Got you. 

His body froze mid-step. I surged chakra into the genjutsu, forcing the illusion over him like a veil, images of a collapsing ground beneath his feet, vertigo, his teammates vanishing. 

His stance wavered. I didn't hesitate. I struck him hard in the chest with a kick that sent him flying backward. 

But then, he blinked. The genjutsu shattered. 

My eyes narrowed. Of course. I'm not an expert. And the others weren't stupid, they avoided eye contact, focused on my feet, my hands. They knew not to look. 

My Sharingan could only help so much when they refused to give me the opening. They weren't just killers. They were trained to kill people like me. 

And I was slipping up. Another knife came close to slicing my thigh. I spun out of range, but it was too close. 

I grunted as another Root member came at me with a jutsu, wind again, sharp enough to cut skin. I hit the dirt and rolled, just avoiding the worst of it. 

Then, out of instinct, I glanced to the left. I felt their chakra before I saw them. Tsunade. Kakashi. They were here. Close enough now to see. 

I locked eyes with Kakashi, his visible Sharingan narrowed in concentration. Watching. Tsunade beside him, mouth set in a grim line. 

I could see the fury in her body, the way her chakra churned, controlled but deadly. They saw everything now. 

Good. 

But that brief second of distraction cost me. A shriek of pain tore from my throat as a kunai embedded itself in my shoulder, deep. 

My knees nearly buckled. My fingers twitched, and the world blurred for a second. White-hot pain took over my entire body. 

The one who threw it moved to follow up, but I snarled and lashed out, my fist connecting brutally with his jaw. 

I felt it give under my knuckles. Bone cracked. I didn't stop to check if he dropped. I jumped back, chakra surging, but it was weak now, flickering. 

Every breath hurt. My shoulder felt like it was on fire. My left arm was useless. My legs were trembling. 

I was losing. I knew it. So did they. 

And even though Tsunade and Kakashi were close, so close, I didn't know if I could hold on until they got here. Or if I could stop myself from snapping. 

But then, it happened. Everything... shifted? 

A flicker of darkness crawled into the edges of my vision. My ears rang. The air around me changed, sudden and suffocating. 

I couldn't see where it came from at first. Then I felt it, someone behind me. A grip around my waist. I gasped. Not in pain. In shock. 

The scent of smoke filled my lungs. A smoke bomb detonated at my feet, swallowing everything in a thick, choking fog. 

Chakra flared around me, familiar, but not hostile. A whisper of motion. Someone fast. Root agents shouted, a sharp command in their cold, impassive tone. 

I heard steel slice air, the rush of steps, then, nothing. Just smoke and pressure. Arms tightened around my middle. They were strong. Firm. 

And then we were gone. Pulled into the air, high and fast. My heart was still racing, every nerve screaming. 

My shoulder throbbed with the blade still lodged in it, and my vision blurred from pain and exhaustion. 

I blinked into the smoke. All I saw was the blur of movement and the fading chaos behind me. The sound of blades. Yells. Then nothing. 

Everything dulled, like a dream half-remembered. Whoever held me didn't speak. They just moved, precise, smooth, fast. 

Their chakra masked, but familiar. I didn't have the strength to struggle, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. 

I didn't know if I'd been saved... or captured. But I knew one thing for sure. I was out of time. 

A/n Now this is a treat for you all!!! Today is my birthday and I decided to gift you all a super long chapter!!!! Enjoy~