As a member of the Uchiha clan, it was only natural that interrogation duties fell upon Uchiha Kai.
The Uchiha were widely recognized for their proficiency in Genjutsu, largely due to the Sharingan's innate abilities. However, this perception was misleading—while many Uchiha excelled in illusionary techniques, not every member of the clan was a Genjutsu specialist. Even among those who awakened the Sharingan, mastery of Genjutsu was not guaranteed. The dojutsu only provided an advantage, allowing its user to see through illusions and cast them with greater ease.
Uchiha Kai conducted his interrogation with unsettling composure. His captive, though strong-willed, was already in a weakened state—seriously injured by Aya Hyuga. His mind clouded by pain and fatigue, he was vulnerable. Kai did not hesitate to exploit this, weaving Genjutsu and employing subtle psychological manipulations.
It took a full day, but Kai eventually extracted the information he sought. In the process, he stumbled upon an unexpected piece of intelligence:
"There's an escort team transporting Konoha prisoners of war to the rear lines of Iwagakure."
Kai would not act alone. He relayed this intelligence to his comrades but withheld certain details, choosing to reveal them gradually.
The Naruto world was a complex and contradictory one. In his thirteen years within the Uchiha clan, Kai had mostly encountered negativity—especially the hostility directed toward his people. He recalled the fate of Hatake Sakumo, the renowned "White Fang of Konoha," who had taken his own life after being ostracized for prioritizing his comrades over a mission.
Yet, the stories passed down in the village painted a different picture. They glorified the concept of "bonds" and emphasized that "comrades are more important than the mission." But was that truly the case?
On the battlefield, comrades were only as valuable as the lives they saved. They were often nothing more than human shields against kunai and jutsu. The reality was harsh: history was written by the victors. Kai understood why Sakumo had been condemned. In times of war, there was no place for personal sentiment—only results. If not for the overwhelming power of figures like the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, or Uchiha Madara, the village system itself might not have survived.
Sakumo's ideals had merit, but he was born in the wrong era. And perhaps, his downfall had been orchestrated by someone like Danzo Shimura, ever eager to eliminate perceived threats. His death served as a grim lesson: fail the mission, and you die. Hesitate, and you die. The village comes first.
But times were changing. The war was nearing its end, and Hiruzen Sarutobi was preparing to pass the mantle of Hokage to Namikaze Minato—a man whose ideals aligned more closely with Sakumo's. Unlike his predecessors, Minato valued his team above all else, shaping the next generation with a different philosophy. Without a constant war, the importance of comradeship naturally increased. It was, in a way, a means of ensuring loyalty to the village. If a shinobi had deep bonds within Konoha, the likelihood of them defecting decreased.
Kai would usually ignore such considerations—he was too busy ensuring his own survival. But he knew that with the war ending, the political landscape was shifting. If he wanted a future in this world, he needed to start making calculated investments.
Aya Hyuga interrupted his thoughts with a sneer. "Captain, don't tell me you're planning to rescue them?" she challenged. "Have you forgotten our mission, or are you trying to be the next Hatake Sakumo?"
Kai remained unfazed. "We'll follow them into enemy territory," he stated coolly. "With luck, we'll uncover more valuable intelligence along the way."
"You're insane," Aya scoffed. "That's a death sentence. Do you want to end up in Konoha's prison awaiting trial?"
Kai smirked. "Hardly. Think about it—we've survived this long, haven't we? That alone proves we know what we're doing. We all want to make it back alive, so let's cooperate. Agreed?"
Aya fell silent. Even Kenta Imai, who typically wore a nonchalant expression, turned his gaze toward Kai, his usual smirk fading slightly. They understood the unspoken truth: the three of them were bound together by circumstance. Their survival depended on mutual trust, even if it was built on pragmatism rather than genuine camaraderie.
Still, Kai was already thinking ahead. If he played this right, this mission could serve as more than just another battlefield task—it could be a stepping stone toward political leverage in the future.
Aya exhaled sharply and sat down, idly flipping a kunai between her fingers before launching it at their half-conscious Iwa-nin captive. "Alright, let's hear it. If you're suggesting an attack on the enemy's rear lines, I'm out. I don't have a death wish."
"I'm not reckless," Kai replied, shaking his head. "Iwanin is transporting prisoners, but according to the intel we got from this guy, they've also been holding others in separate locations."
Aya narrowed her eyes. "That's standard procedure," she admitted. "It's stupid to keep all prisoners in one place—Iwa isn't known for its sealing techniques."
Halfway through her sentence, she stopped. A realization flickered across her face, and she shot Kai a wary glance. Even Kenta's smirk had disappeared.
The implications were clear. By separating prisoners, Iwa minimized risk, but it also meant many captives were held in lightly guarded locations. If they moved fast, they could capitalize on this weakness and rescue their people.
"How much time do we have?" Aya finally asked. "And what's this guy's rank?"
Kai's smirk deepened. "A Chunin assigned to guard the prisoners. Two days ago, he received orders to move to the front lines. We ran into him yesterday."
Aya hesitated, then exhaled in resignation. "That gives us a narrow window… but it might just be possible."
"Then let's do it." Kenta finally spoke, his usual grin returning. "Rescue our comrades and complete our mission. Sounds fun."