[Scene – Marshlands of Silence | Dawn]
Riku crouched in the marsh grass, breath low, eyes focused ahead.
The fog here was heavier than usual. Thick enough to blur outlines. Dead quiet except for the buzzing of insects and the occasional splash of distant water.
Kōten clung to his shoulder, wings folded.
"He's close. Movement—ten meters west."
Riku nodded.
The rogue genin was on the run, but not far. His trail had been erratic—signs of chakra depletion, half-eaten rations, discarded gear. Whoever he was, he'd been alone for a while.
And now he was cornered.
[Flashback – The Night Before]
"You don't have to kill," Kaede had said carefully. "But if you hesitate… you may not get the chance to choose again."
Riku hadn't answered. But he remembered what Mei told him when they trained in the garden:
"Restraint doesn't mean kindness. It means knowing when to hold back. And when not to."
[Scene – Close Encounter]
A low whistle from Kōten snapped Riku into the present.
"He's moving. Right to left. Trying to double back."
Riku leapt silently across a patch of mossy stone, landing in a crouch behind a broken tree stump. His chakra signature was masked. His crystal blade, compact and sharp, hummed faintly in his hand.
Then—there.
A flash of movement. A boy no older than sixteen, clothes torn, eyes wide and twitching with paranoia. He held a blood-crusted kunai in one hand, his Mist forehead protector slashed straight through.
Their eyes met.
"You're… another one of them, aren't you?" the rogue hissed. "They sent a kid to kill me. What a joke."
Riku didn't answer.
The boy lunged.
Desperate. Sloppy.
But fast.
Riku parried once—twice—then feinted right and slammed his palm into the ground.
"Crystal Style: Prism Spike."
A single sharp crystal pillar erupted beneath the rogue's feet—not lethal, but enough to blow him back and down.
Riku landed above him. Blade raised.
"Wait—WAIT!" the rogue screamed, scrambling backward. "I didn't betray the village. I was—trying to escape! The blood purges! The missions—they make you KILL—!"
And for a brief moment, Riku froze.
His muscles locked. His breath caught.
He saw the boy's eyes.
Panic. Not unlike his own after his first kill. Not unlike the memory he still carried like a scar.
"Please… please…"
[Internal Monologue – Riku]
This isn't strength.
This isn't mercy.
This is weakness—mine, and his.
If I hesitate now…
He remembered Shiroku's sneer. The moment of pain and shock when his blade had landed in the wrong chest. The silence that followed.
Not again.
Not this time.
[Decision – One Stroke]
The crystal blade fell.
Clean. Quiet.
Right through the boy's heart.
No scream. Just a gasp—and stillness.
Riku stood over him. Breathing hard. Then knelt and placed a hand over the boy's eyes, closing them.
"You chose your path. So did I."
[Scene – Return to Kirigakure]
The body was gone. Burned to ash in the marshfire. All that remained was the slashed headband, and a tattered scroll of notes retrieved from the boy's pouch.
Riku delivered both to the Academy instructors.
Koruba said nothing at first, then simply nodded.
"Mission complete. You passed."
Riku didn't flinch.
Didn't speak.
But something in him shifted.
This wasn't a game anymore. It hadn't been for a long time.
[Scene – Riku and Kōten That Night]
Back in his room, Riku sat alone, fingers stained faintly with dried blood. Kōten landed beside him.
"You didn't hesitate."
"No," Riku said. "I couldn't."
"Do you regret it?"
"I don't know. But I understand now."
He stared at his hands.
"Mercy… has to be earned. And strength doesn't always mean holding back."
[Closing Thought – Riku's Inner Voice]
There's no honor in killing.
But maybe there can be purpose.
I'll carve mine in crystal.
END