Chapter 11: The Retrieval Team Sets Out
The hawk arrived just after midnight, its wings beating a frantic rhythm against the window of the Hokage’s office. Naruto unrolled the tiny scroll from its leg, his eyes scanning the coded script that resolved into Kankuro’s unmistakably messy hand.
Mission success. Acquired the Fangs of Kaguya, the Earth-Cutter Sword, and the Sunfire Whip. Package secure. En route to Leaf immediately. Do not, repeat, DO NOT kill us for the amount of money we just spent. The number has too many zeroes. I feel ill. – K
Naruto stared at the message, then let out a sharp, surprised bark of laughter that echoed in the quiet room. A genuine, sweat-dropping smile split his face. “Those crazy bastards actually did it,” he muttered, shaking his head. The relief was a physical unclenching in his shoulders, a tension he hadn’t fully acknowledged until it was gone. No casualties. A clean, if obscenely expensive, win.
He looked at the estimated cost scrawled in the margin, the number circled with what looked like a trembling hand. His smile turned into a wince. “Okay, yeah. That’s… wow. The Council is gonna yell for a week.” But the price was just money. His people were coming home safe, and three legendary weapons weren’t in the hands of a shadowy cult. He let out a long, slow sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. For a moment, the weight of the hat felt a little lighter.
The relief was short-lived.
He turned from the window. The wide, polished surface of his desk was no longer visible beneath a sea of paper. Scrolls, files, and aging parchments formed a topographical map of frustration. Shikamaru sat slumped in a chair on the other side, fingers steepled, staring at the chaos with the grim focus of a man trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
“They’re on their way back,” Naruto said, tossing the message scroll onto the only clear corner.
“Good,” Shikamaru replied, not looking up. “The quicker those things are behind our walls, the better.”
Naruto sank into his chair, the brief euphoria evaporating. His gaze fell back to the sprawled evidence of their other, more nebulous mission. Hours spent combing through old orphan records, cross-referencing village intake logs from the turbulent period after the Third Shinobi War. The trail of the last Shōkan was colder than a tomb.
“Still nothing?” Naruto asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Nothing definitive.” Shikamaru picked up a single, slim file. It was conspicuously, suspiciously thin. “Tenten’s record is the strongest candidate. Orphaned as an infant, brought to the Leaf. That checks out. But everything before that? Parents’ names, clan affiliation, even the location where she was found… it’s all been meticulously erased. Not lost. Erased.”
He dropped the file. It made a soft, final sound on the desk. “It’s too clean. That’s what screams. Someone went to a lot of trouble to make a little girl disappear into the system.”
Naruto leaned forward, elbows on the desk, his face serious. “But we can’t just walk up to her and say, ‘Hey, by the way, you might be the last heir to a mythic clan of weapon-whisperers that a bunch of dangerous fanatics are hunting. We have no proof, just a house and some missing paperwork.’ She’d think we lost our minds.”
“And she’d be right to,” Shikamaru sighed. “It’s speculation. Dangerous speculation. Without concrete evidence, telling her is just loading a burden onto her shoulders for no reason. Maybe Sasuke will find something.”
The mention of Sasuke was another low-grade worry in the room. “He hasn’t checked in,” Naruto said, his voice dropping. “It’s been days. He’s either hit a wall so solid he’s trying to punch through it, or he’s onto something and can’t risk a message.” The not-knowing itched at him. His best friend was out there in the dark, chasing ghosts that were becoming increasingly real.
He made a decision, the kind that came easily now after years in the chair. Action over inertia. “We’re not waiting. The weapons are the priority, and now they’re a moving target.” He grabbed a fresh scroll and began writing, his strokes quick and sure. “I’m ordering them to proceed straight home, full speed. No detours. And we’re sending a retrieval team to meet them halfway, provide an extra layer of security. Eyes on the package from all angles.”
He finished the message, sealed it with a flare of chakra, and summoned another hawk. As it vanished into the night sky, he looked at Shikamaru. “You’re heading the team. Take Lee and Shino. Lee’s speed for rapid response, Shino’s tracking and insects for perimeter surveillance. You coordinate. Get those weapons and our people home.”
Shikamaru didn’t complain about the trouble. He just nodded, a quick, efficient dip of his head as he processed the variables—routes, timing, potential ambush points. It was all there in his eyes, the calculations flickering behind a veneer of tired annoyance. “Understood. We’ll leave now. The less time they’re in transit, the better.”
Within ten minutes, three figures stood on the rooftop outside the Hokage’s tower, backlit by a sliver of moon.
“The youthfulness of the mission fills me with passion!” Lee announced, his teeth a bright flash in the darkness. “We shall ensure our comrades’ safe return with fiery determination!”
Shino Aburame adjusted his glasses, the hum of his insect colonies a subtle vibration in the air around him. “My kikaichū will deploy in a five-kilometer radius upon rendezvous. Nothing will approach unseen.”
Shikamaru looked from Lee’s blazing enthusiasm to Shino’s cool precision. A decent team. “Let’s move. They’re on the River Road. We’ll intercept them by the Stone Maw Pass at dawn.” He gave no other order. They were professionals.
The three shinobi vanished from the rooftop in a silent rush of displaced air, merging with the shadows of the sleeping village before shooting out into the deeper darkness of the forest beyond. Their pace was relentless, a steady, ground-eating rhythm that spoke of urgency.
Back in his office, Naruto watched them go, a silhouette against the wide window. He looked down at Tenten’s woefully empty file, then out to where the retrieval team had disappeared. He thought of Kankuro’s scrawled plea about the money, of Tenten’s normally unshakable practicality. He thought of the erased history, and of Lord Saito, a name now firmly etched in his mind as a threat.
Shikamaru, Lee, and Shino raced through the night, unaware that the danger wasn’t just following the weapons. It had already stepped in front of them, introduced itself, and brushed a Keeper’s hand with a polite, calculating smile. They raced to secure three treasures, completely ignorant that the fourth, and most important, treasure was the woman carrying them, who was finally, blessedly, hearing nothing but silence.