The cave was dark, but not enough to hide what was in front of me.
I didn't lower my guard. Never did. People always had something hidden, a last trick, a desperate move. And desperate men were the most dangerous.
The girl was tied up. Too tight. Ropes dug into her neck, chest, and thighs, wrapped around her body like someone had been more interested in restraining her than keeping her alive. Chains clamped around her ankles, another locked around her neck.
She wasn't even fifteen.
The stench was thick sweat, filth, and something worse. A white stain trailed down her leg.
I exhaled through my nose, forcing my grip to stay steady on my katana.
Then—
A glint of steel in the dim light.
My body moved before my mind did. The kunai clashed against my blade, sparks flashing between us. The man's face twisted, shock, fear, but not hesitation. His free hand was already moving, fingers flicking toward me.
Dirt.
I stepped back, blade twisting mid-air. The edge caught his wrist, forcing his hand down before the dust could reach my eyes. He stumbled.
A mistake.
I didn't waste time. One sharp movement a clean slice.
His breath hitched.
Blood gushed from his throat, hot and dark. His mouth opened like he wanted to speak, but nothing came out except a wet gurgle. His knees buckled. He hit the ground hard, fingers twitching as his body fought to stay alive for just a few seconds longer.
Then nothing.
Silence.
I turned back to the girl. She hadn't moved. Didn't even flinch when the body hit the floor.
Either she was too weak… or she'd already accepted her fate.
She didn't react when I stepped closer. Just lay there, body limp, breath so shallow I almost mistook her for dead.
"Can you hear me?"
Nothing.
I crouched, eyes scanning her rope burn on her wrists, bruises in places that told the whole story without words.
"I know you're alive." My voice was calm, steady. "Do you want to live?"
A faint sound, barely a breath. But still, she didn't move.
I didn't trust it. Even like this, a shinobi could still kill. A well-timed bite, a hidden blade, a last-ditch explosive tag it wouldn't be the first time someone tried to take their captors down with them.
I stepped closer. Watched. Waited.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"Kill…"
Her voice cracked. Weak. Brittle. Like her body wouldn't even let her finish.
She swallowed, a dry click, and tried again.
"Kill me."
It was a plea. Not desperate. Not afraid. Just empty. Like she wasn't even asking for death—just confirming that it was already coming.
Should I feel sorry for her? Yes.
Can I do something? Maybe.
Will I do something? No.
I didn't think twice. My blade slid in smoothly, cutting flesh like it was nothing. Blood ran warm over my hands, soaking into the fabric of her ruined clothes.
Pain flickered across her face. But she didn't scream.
No she smiled.
A final word left her lips, so faint I almost didn't hear it.
"…Thanks."
Then she was gone.
I didn't hesitate. There was no room for sentiment. I pulled out the Echo Card and pressed it against her cooling skin.
A glow.
Then her body crumbled white particles, scattering like sand, swirling for a moment before being sucked into the card's surface.
The card, now holding everything she once was, dropped to the ground with a quiet thud.
I picked it up, wiped my blade clean,grabbed everything useful kunai, pills, scrolls, a headband shoved it all into my pack, and bolted.
Shinobi were assets, even the weak ones. Even genin.
In war, no one got left behind. Dead or alive, the village always came looking. Too many secrets in a body to let it go to waste.
So if she was here, it meant one of two things.
Either they'd written her off.
Or they were still searching.
And I wasn't about to stick around to find out which.
Especially when she was from Konoha.
One of the Five Great Nations. The kind that didn't just "lose" their own.
I didn't know why she was here. Didn't know why she was unconscious when they found her.
I could guess. But guesses wouldn't change a damn thing.
Even if she had begged for her life, I would have killed her anyway.
She wasn't a person to me.
She was just another resource to be exploited.
A genin, maybe a chunin at most. Clan or civilian, it made no difference.
With her template, I could now be a shinobi.
That's all that mattered.
Morality? Humanity? None of that meant shit if you were dead.
Survival came first. Always.
And I wasn't about to pass up a chance to stack the odds in my favour.