[Scene – Academy Courtyard, Dusk]
The fog clung lower than usual that evening. The courtyard, usually a place for drills and spars, had been transformed. Rows of academy students stood in silent formation, instructors looming like shadows.
Koruba, the scar-faced jōnin instructor, stepped forward with a weathered scroll in his hands. His voice was low and unfeeling:
"Only one year remains. But not all of you will make it that far. Before final graduation, each of you will receive a mission—independent, unassisted, unaided."
He held up a bundle of sealed scrolls. Each bore a different crest, inked in red.
"You succeed, you're eligible for early promotion to genin. You fail…"
A pause.
"…You're no longer our problem."
No one asked questions. No one dared.
One by one, the scrolls were handed out. The students' expressions shifted—fear, determination, shock. When Koruba reached Riku, he lingered for a moment, then handed over a scroll sealed with wax shaped like a crystal beetle.
"You're not from here," he muttered. "But this will prove whether you belong."
[Scene – Riku's Apartment That Night]
Riku unrolled the scroll slowly under the light of a single lamp. His mother wasn't home. Kōten sat on the window ledge, antennae twitching.
The scroll read:
Mission Objective:
Eliminate a rogue genin hiding in the Marshlands of Silence. Former Hidden Mist operative. Armed and considered unstable. No assistance. Retrieve proof of kill.
Optional Bonus Objective:
Recover any intel on who smuggled them out of Kirigakure.
Riku stared in silence. His hands were steady. But his heart twisted.
"A person. Not a beast. Not a bandit. A shinobi."
He'd trained for this. Fought. Grown stronger. But something still recoiled in him. Mei's words echoed in his mind:
"Restraint is strength. But hesitation is death."
Kōten fluttered down beside him.
"This tribute is blood, isn't it?"
"Yes," Riku replied. "But maybe it doesn't have to be senseless."
[Scene – Meanwhile: Shiroku's Assignment]
Inside the mist-shrouded Hōzuki compound, Shiroku unsealed his own scroll with practiced fingers. His mission was different.
Mission Objective:
Infiltrate a rival clan's outer post suspected of withholding tribute to the Mizukage. Leave a warning. Use lethal force if met with resistance.
The clan head stood behind him, arms crossed.
"You are no longer a child, Shiroku. This is your first step into the role you were born for. And remember… however you act out there reflects the Hōzuki name."
Shiroku didn't flinch. "Then I won't disappoint."
But as he stared at the scroll, one name floated back into his mind—Riku.
"I won't lose to you, crystal boy. Not now. Not ever."
[Closing: Two Paths Set in Motion]
The students sleep little that night.
Some cry in silence.
Some polish weapons.
Some pray.
And some—like Riku—watch the mist outside their window, the silence of the village broken only by the soft buzz of a beetle's wings and the weight of what must be done.
END