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Chapter 49 Clans Don’t Lose
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 03:00:06 +0000 UTCThe main battlefield had changed from a wet forest to a broken and battered field filled with raised earth from earth-style ninjutsu, large gauges cut into the ground by wind ninjutsu, and pools of water from water-style use.
The ground was filled with blood, fallen trees, broken puppets, and bloody remains.
We moved carefully, not wanting to step on any poisonous weapons that had been thrown around and now littered the area.
Above us, the sky was just beginning to pale, the moon receding behind the veil of ash that still lingered from Arata’s last few strikes.
We gathered at the center, beneath the twisted remains of what had once been a tree. Koji dropped a barely conscious Suna Chuunin onto the ground with a grunt, and Kuro padded in beside him, blood still drying on his muzzle. Arata followed a moment later, dragging the paralyzed Jōnin.
I looked around at my team—bloodied, exhausted, but standing. We had won. But that wasn’t the same as being safe. Not when a small scratch could result in death.
“Status,” I said, my voice even.
“Koji’s got a cracked rib,” Haruto said, pointing with a thumb. “He’s pretending he doesn’t.”
Koji grinned, teeth white against the grime. “Nothing a good meal and a nap won’t fix.”
“Arata?”
He held up his left hand. Two fingers bent stiffly. “Fractures, maybe. Lightning feedback. I’ll splint them later.”
“And you?” Haruto asked me.
I blinked once. “Uninjured. But low on chakra”
“We’ve got two prisoners,” I said, kneeling next to the wind Jōnin and checking the chakra suppression seal I’d placed earlier. “He’s still locked down. But not forever.”
“What do we do with them?” Arata asked.
I paused for a moment, thinking about it. The Chuunin was worthless, just lucky to survive, and given their injuries, wouldn’t be alive for long. The Jōnin was still alive, and only mildly injured, though for now, out cold due to chakra shock.
Captured Jōnin were valuable; they were leaders who knew secrets and held valuable information. They were valuable treasures, dead and alive, and far more so alive.
Yet, given our current situation, deep in hostile lands, without support, lugging around an enemy wasn’t easy, or wise. Leaving them at the camp was dangerous; taking them with us even more so.
“We aren’t in a position to be taking prisoners, we give them a quick death, and keeping the heads of Jōnin only, as well as puppet remains. So gather everything together.” I finally decided on the only real course of action.
Koji nodded immediately, face hardening. He didn’t flinch, didn’t question. Haruto looked away, jaw tight but silent. It was Arata who hesitated.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “The Jōnin… he might have intel we can’t get anywhere else.”
“He also might be carrying a suicide seal we haven’t spotted yet,” I replied coldly. “Or be traced the moment his chakra flares. Either way, dragging him with us is a liability.”
Arata grimaced, but gave a nod. “I’ll do it.”
There was a big difference between killing someone in the heat of battle and killing people who are defenceless and captured. Yet, as distasteful as it was, we had to do it.
We quickly cleaned up the battlefield, gathered the bodies, looted them, and then had Haruto use a big earth-style ninjutsu to pull everything underground, be it bodies, weapons, or fragments; everything was taken deep under.
“Alright, we are all hurt and or low on chakra, so let's make our way back to basecamp, we need rest.” I said as I attached a sealing scroll to my hip.
The others had nothing to add, and so Koji started leading back towards camp. It was a long trip, running all night. But we had no choice, either run now or wait somewhere else. And with his nose and my eyes, we had no problems finding out way through the thick darkness.
As we ran, there wasn’t much sound; our footsteps were muffled, barely making a sound, so only the sound of the many small rivers and streams passing through the land accompanied us.
“Remind me again,” Koji said over his shoulder, “why we chose a base so far away from the action?”
“Because,” I replied, “I like to be able to rest when I sleep, which means not doing so right under Suna’s nose. It might not be as sharp as your nose, partner, but it would still sniff you out, dog boy.”
Koji stumbled slightly, nearly missing a foothold on a slick root, and Kuro huffed beside him—whether in laughter or exasperation, I couldn’t tell.
“Would it kill you to stop calling me that?” he muttered.
“Dog boy?” I asked innocently. “But it suits you. Loyal, sturdy, occasionally smells like wet fur—”
“Partner,” he snapped, shooting a look over his shoulder. “You keep saying that word like you’re trying to get me exiled.”
Arata let out a quiet snort, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Too late. The clan elders probably already think you’re married.”
“Oh no,” I said, mock-gasping. “Does that mean I’ll have to start attending Inuzuka family dinners?”
Kuro barked once—loud and sharp. Haruto chuckled, the sound strained but genuine.
“You know,” Koji grumbled, “for a Hyūga, you’re really good at being annoying.”
“Why, thank you, partner,” I said sweetly. “I was worried I wasn’t Hyūga enough, not enough stick up my ass, but good to hear I’m still doing just fine.”
Kuro seems to have found that particularly funny, because he barked up a storm, and given Koji’s reaction, whatever he did say seemed to have been gold.
Koji groaned, but I caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth. A smile, barely fought down.
We moved in silence again for a while after that, weaving between narrow creek beds and tall stone outcroppings. The mist had begun to thin, burned away slowly by the rising sun. The early morning light cast everything in dull gray and blue hues, the world caught between night and day.
The exhaustion had settled deep in my bones now—not enough to slow me, but enough to dull the sharpness of thought, the edge of focus. I wasn’t the only one. Haruto’s gait had grown more rigid. Arata’s steps were shorter. Even Koji wasn’t bouncing between branches like usual.
Thankfully, I had enough chakra to use Byakugan, so we weren’t at risk of getting into combat. Which is the only reason I allowed us to get into this poor a state.
And then, as the sun reached the highest point in the sky, we finally reached our makeshift home away from home.
“Home sweet hideaway,” Arata muttered.
“Same as last time, leave the loot outside, we will use clones to go through it later, for now, I want you to bury it Haruto, nice and deep, so we won’t have any surprises.” I said as I finally allowed myself to turn off the Byakugan.
Haruto gave a weary nod and stepped forward, rolling his shoulders with a faint wince before forming the hand signs. The ground responded instantly to his chakra, pulling itself open like parting lips to swallow the bloodstained scrolls and bagged puppet remains.
Once buried, he sealed the earth tight with a firm stomp, the chakra humming faintly before going still.
It likely wasn’t needed. Both Koji and Kuro had made sure there wasn’t any suspicious scent leaking out, and I watched out for chakra. But, I just wanted some rest, so I took no chances.
“That’s it for today, we can take it easy, but no need to lower your guard, we wouldn't want to die because we got careless.” I reminded them as we all crawled into our little shelter.
The shelter had changed much from the first, simple little tarp-covered bit of mostly mossy ground. Now we had built proper earth walls to keep wind and rain out. We had sunk it halfway into the ground, so as not to stand out too much, and allow the natural overgrowth to cover it.
Moss had been collected and treated until it was soft, and neither too dry nor too wet, just perfect to use as a bed.
There wasn’t a ton of room, but enough that we didn’t have to sleep in one big pile; we could sit down, stretch our legs, or lie down, and even have a fire pit in the middle. We mostly just had some embers down there, keeping us warm without making smoke.
We moved like ghosts—silent, deliberate, weighed down by fatigue and the lingering echoes of combat. None of us spoke as we stripped off armor and unwrapped bindings.
Haruto finished sealing the last of the loot, then collapsed into one corner with a tired grunt. Arata sat down opposite him, already working on splinting his fingers with practiced, jerky motions.
Koji didn’t say anything, just sat cross-legged near the fire pit, running a hand through Kuro’s fur as the big ninken dozed beside him, rising and falling with each slow breath.
I sat last, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion crash over me as I was finally able to relax after setting out a few days back.
“We might not have found their camp, but with such a large patrol, there has to be one for sure.” I finally said, breaking the silence as I fished out a candy bar from my private rations.
The wrapper crinkled softly as I peeled it open, and for a moment, the faint scent of chocolate overpowered the burnt musk of scorched moss and old blood. I took a slow bite, enjoying the sweetness.
I didn’t have many of them, so I had to treasure each bite.
“It was a dangerous right; most teams our size wouldn’t have been able to take them on.” Arata said, his voice low, with a hint of admiration.
I didn’t reply right away. I took another slow bite of chocolate, savoring it. Let the silence sit for a breath.
Then Koji stretched out, arms behind his head like he hadn’t nearly died twelve hours ago. “Well, I’m here,” he said casually, “so naturally we beat them.”
Kuro barked at his remark.
“And Kuro too, so don’t worry, even three times their size we would be fine.” He boasted, we all knew what it was, just empty words.
Because it was indeed a risky move, attacking that group. They far outnumbered us, and they had as many Jōnin as we had people, not counting Kuro.
Haruto groaned. “Don’t feed it, Arata. It gets stronger.”
“I’m just saying,” Koji continued, completely undeterred, “I bring balance to the team. Power, looks, charm. It’s a heavy burden.”
Kuro let out a quiet snort that might’ve been laughter or disagreement. I wasn’t sure which was more accurate.
“You forgot humility,” I said, deadpan.
“I don’t carry things I don’t use,” Koji replied with a straight face.
Arata shook his head, amused. “Seriously, though. We shouldn’t have won that fight. Not the way we did.”
“That’s where you are wrong,” I disagreed. “This is what separates clan shinobi from civilian-born ones. And separate small clans from big ones.”
It was a simple fact that the clans were far superior to normal shinobi. And clans such as Hyūga, Uchiha, and Senju were on their own level entirely. We had centuries of knowledge backing us. A fighting style perfectly balanced for efficiency.
The Gentle Fist might be worthless in front of Susano or a tailed beast, but against a normal Jōnin? It was nearly unbeatable.
More so since I was hardly a normal Jōnin, and even Koji, while still a Tokubetsu Jōnin, was slowly reaching the level of a normal Jōnin, so he could deal with normal Jōnin together with Kuro.
Arata nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I guess when you put it like that... the way you dealt with three of their Jōnin while still able to defend and assist the rest of us, few back home can do that, at least among those I know.”
“Well, there is a reason this team is put together like this. So we can deal with all the teams, one way or another.” I said as I leaned back against the wall.
(End of chapter)
Clans OP, that’s hardly news, just look at the original cast… everyone is from a clan, except Sakura and Lee, and well, Tenten I guess, but Tenten is worthless, Lee is… a nightmare, and Sakura has the most plot armor in the whole show.
