(A/N: In the last two chapters, I spoke of all might as a skinny young me. I apologize for this error in writing.)
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The autopsy room was a scene of devastation. Smoke hung thick in the air, carrying the acrid stench of burnt flesh and scorched metal. The Kiri-nin was gone, leaving behind only a faint puddle of water—a mocking reminder of his escape. Eichi stood amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving as he struggled to steady his breathing. His body ached, his chakra reserves were nearly depleted, and his mind was a storm of anger, frustration, and guilt.
The cremated body on the table was a grim testament to the Kiri-nin's mission. It wasn't just any corpse—it was one of his own, a member of the team Tajima had fought and killed during the battle in District 69. Eichi's fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He had failed to protect his brother, failed to protect the heir, and now he was failing to even protect the remains of his enemies. The Kiri-nin had come to erase all traces of his fallen comrade, ensuring no secrets would be extracted from the body. It was a brutal reminder of the shinobi world's ruthlessness, a world Eichi had been thrust back into despite his best efforts to escape it.
But there was no time to dwell on his failures. The sound of approaching footsteps snapped him back to reality. He turned just as the door burst open, revealing the towering figure of All Might, his blond hair disheveled and his sharp eyes scanning the room with a mix of concern and urgency. The destruction was evident: scorch marks marred the walls, the floor was littered with debris, and the air was thick with the aftermath of battle.
"Where is he?" All Might demanded, his voice sharp and urgent, cutting through the tension like a blade.
Eichi didn't answer immediately. His gaze flickered to the unconscious staff member slumped on the floor, then to the ashes on the autopsy table.
After all, it was standard practice among shinobi to cremate their fallen. A corpse was a treasure trove of information: mission details, bloodline secrets, even memories that could be extracted by a skilled enough ninja. The Kiri-nin had come to ensure that no such secrets would fall into enemy hands. Eichi understood the necessity, but it didn't make the sight any easier to bear.
"He's gone," Eichi said finally, his voice low and hoarse. "For now."
Hearing that, All Might relaxed slightly, though his expression remained guarded. He had seen firsthand the sensory capabilities of the kid in front of him, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of respect—and caution. The boy was dangerous, that much was clear. But he was also injured, exhausted, and far too young to carry the weight of such a burden.
Still, All Might's kind heart wouldn't let him overlook the boy's condition. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone softer now, though no less urgent.
Eichi snorted, wincing as he pushed himself upright with visible effort. "Pretty good," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Nothing an Iryo-nin couldn't fix."
All Might frowned, his concern deepening. He stepped closer, instinctively reaching out to steady the boy, but Eichi flinched away, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. All Might hesitated, then withdrew his hand, his expression a mix of frustration and pity.
As they made their way to the door, Aizawa barged in, panting hard. His dark eyes swept the room, taking in the destruction, the ashes, and the unconscious staff member. His gaze lingered on the cremated corpse, his expression grim.
"He escaped, didn't he?" Aizawa said, his voice flat. It wasn't a question.
All Might nodded, his jaw tightening. "For now. But he won't get far."
Aizawa turned to Eichi, his eyes narrowing. "And you let him go?"
Hearing that, All Might frowned. "Aizawa, I don't think—"
But Eichi cut him off with a bitter laugh. "I didn't let him do anything," he snapped, his voice sharp with anger. "He's not some thug you can stop with brute force. Trust me, I've tried."
Aizawa stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "You were in no condition to fight. You're lucky you're still standing."
Eichi smirked, though there was no humor in it. "Luck has nothing to do with it. I've survived worse."
Aizawa's jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. As a pro hero, he had seen his share of horrors, but the idea of children being turned into killers—of a system that would force them to fight and die—was something he couldn't stomach. It went against everything he stood for.
Before Aizawa could respond, the detective from earlier entered the room, followed by a small team of armed personnel. His sharp eyes immediately landed on Eichi, and he didn't look pleased.
"What the hell happened here?" the detective barked, his voice echoing in the small room.
Eichi sneered, his expression defiant. "Your security's a joke. That's what happened."
The detective's face turned red, but before he could retort, Aizawa stepped in. "Enough. We don't have time for this. The intruder is gone, but he's not our only problem." He turned to Eichi, his gaze piercing. "You said he's here to finish his job. What does that mean?"
Eichi hesitated. He didn't owe these people anything, but he also knew he couldn't handle the Kiri-nin and his team alone—not in his current state. Reluctantly, he said, "Standard procedure for Shinobi Killed In Action. Their corpses hold valuable information—mission details, bloodline abilities, even memories. He came to make sure nothing was left behind."
The room fell silent as the weight of his words sank in. All Might and Aizawa exchanged a glance, their expressions grim. They were beginning to understand just how dangerous the situation was—and how far out of their depth they might be.
The detective's face paled as he processed Eichi's words. "You're telling me that guy came here to... destroy evidence? From a corpse?"
Eichi's expression darkened. "It's not just evidence. It's a shinobi's duty to protect their secrets, even in death. If that body had fallen into the wrong hands, it could've revealed everything—their techniques, their missions, even their weaknesses. The Kiri-nin wasn't taking any chances."
All Might's brow furrowed, his usual smile absent. "And you? Why are you involved in all of this? You're just a kid."
Eichi's eyes flashed with anger, but there was a flicker of pain beneath the surface. "I'm not just a kid. I'm a shinobi. And in my line of work, age doesn't matter when some younger than me could kill one of you."
The room fell silent again, the weight of Eichi's words hanging heavily in the air. The detective looked visibly disturbed, his face pale as he struggled to process what he was hearing.
"Shinobi?" the detective repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You mean like... ninja? Are you seriously telling me you're some kind of child soldier?"
Eichi's expression didn't change, but his tone grew colder. "I don't owe you an explanation. What matters is that the Kiri-nin is still out there, and he's not going to stop until he finishes what he started."
Aizawa stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "You keep saying that, but you're not giving us much to work with. If you want our help, you need to tell us more. Who is this Kiri-nin? What's his goal? And why are you involved?"
Eichi sighed. "The Kiri-nin is a trained killer. He's part of a team—specialists in demolition, assassination, and infiltration. They're not like the villains you're used to. They don't care about fame or power. They're here to complete their mission, no matter the cost."
All Might's expression hardened. "And what's their mission?"
Eichi's jaw tightened. "That's not important right now. What's important is stopping them before they cause more damage."
The detective stepped forward, his skepticism evident. "You expect us to just take your word for it? You show up out of nowhere, cause a scene, and now you want us to trust you?"
Eichi's eyes flashed with anger, but he kept his voice calm. "I don't care if you trust me. But if you don't stop them, you're going to regret it."
Aizawa held up a hand, silencing the detective before he could respond. "Enough. Whether we believe him or not, the fact remains that there's a dangerous groupe of individual on the loose, and they're after something—or someone. That's something we can't ignore."
All Might nodded, his expression resolute. "Agreed. Our first priority is to stop this Kiri team before they can cause any more harm."
Eichi's eyes narrowed. "You think you can stop them? You don't even know what you're up against."
Aizawa's gaze remained steady, his voice calm but probing. "You said they're specialists in demolition, assassination, and infiltration. What else can you tell us about them? Names? Numbers? Weaknesses?"
While Eichi wanted to lay out everything, he still came back to the conversation he had with the Kiri-nin. They had stopped caring about the heir, as they now had a situation that preceded the mission.
After all, they had needed the heir to make the Uzumaki surrender during the siege, but now it was unimportant to do so, as they were simply not in their world anymore.
Still, even if they had no intention to search for the heir and no interest in himself, Eichi couldn't let go of his desire for revenge—to avenge his brother and his clan, to kill them all.
So, all he had to do was manipulate them to search for the team.
Eichi's mind raced. He couldn't reveal specifics about their villages or the shinobi system—it would raise too many questions about his own origins. Instead, he had to speculate based on what he knew of their general specializations. Carefully, he said, "I don't know their names or exact numbers. But I can tell you this: the Kiri-nin is only a subordinate. He's a sensor, which means he can track energy—chakra—from miles away. The others are likely from different backgrounds, each with their own skills. One might specialize in explosives, another in stealth, and another in close combat. They're not a team you can underestimate."
The detective frowned, his skepticism evident. "You're telling us they're some kind of elite squad, but you don't even know their names? How do you expect us to believe you?"
Eichi's eyes narrowed, his tone sharp. "Believe me or don't. It doesn't change the fact that they're dangerous."
All Might stepped forward, his expression serious. "We're not doubting the threat, but we need more to go on. Where did they come from? Why are they here?"
Eichi hesitated. He couldn't reveal that they were from another world, or that they had been transported here by a failed jutsu. Instead, he chose his words carefully. "For some circumstances, they're the only shinobi left in this world. As for why they're here... let's just say they have their own agenda."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "And you? What's your stake in all of this? Why are you so determined to stop them?"
Eichi's jaw tightened. "Let's just say I have my reasons. Personal ones."
The detective crossed his arms, his tone accusatory. "You're awfully defensive for someone asking for our help. If you're not hiding something, why not tell us everything?"
Eichi's voice grew colder. "I've told you what you need to know. The rest is irrelevant."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. All Might and Aizawa exchanged another glance, their expressions grim. They were beginning to understand that there was more to Eichi than he was letting on, but they also knew they weren't going to get any more answers—not yet, at least.
"Alright, fine, we'll help you out," sighed the detective, knowing that any further interrogation would only lead to unwanted animosity between them. "However, there's still the matter of where we'd accommodate you. I'm guessing you have no place to call home now, right?"
At that, Eichi's mood grew increasingly grim. "Yes."
All Might, despite knowing the boy was wary of them, placed a comforting hand on Eichi's shoulder. The boy tensed at the contact but didn't pull away. "Don't worry," All Might said, his voice warm and reassuring. "I have an idea of what to do with you."
The three turned to him, their expressions questioning. "You have a plan?" asked Aizawa.
Smirking, All Might simply said, "I know someone who might be interested in him." Turning to Eichi, he asked, "You're fourteen, right?" Eichi nodded, and All Might continued, "Well, your luck is quite good. I could ask some individuals to create a file and background for you and enroll you into U.A."
After finishing his statement, Aizawa, ever aware of the schemes of the higher-ups, stayed silent. He knew exactly whom All Might was referring to—and who would be responsible for crafting Eichi's new identity.
However, the sentiment wasn't shared by the detective, who grew visibly irritated. "All Might-sama, as much as I want the kid to integrate himself, the public still expects some sort of response regarding the massacre that happened in District 69. Yes, the media doesn't have exact footage of the boy, but it can't be ignored that another battle of the same magnitude happened at another location altogether."
Instead of seeing it as a problem, All Might laughed. "Don't worry, Naomasa-san. The person I'm talking about knows how to spin things." He glanced at Eichi from the corner of his eye, his smile faltering slightly as he continued, "Also, it's time for the kid to experience a normal life. If what I've seen and heard is any indication of how he was brought up, he definitely needs it."
Eichi's reaction was minimal, save for the slight twitch of his eye. After all, it wasn't his entire life that he had been a shinobi. Yes, he had fought battles and had been a genin for three years before the war, but before that, in his opinion, he had lived enough as a carefree boy.
Still, he remembered his father's words as Tajima grew annoyed by his carefree attitude during a fireside chat, where he shared stories about their past.
"They deserve to enjoy their childhood before facing the harsh realities of being shinobi."
Eichi sighed. If All Might's words hinted at anything, it was perhaps a school life—something he wasn't opposed to. He knew he could train while a clone handled the classes, and the government could focus on searching for the individuals in question.
"All right, all right," sighed Naomasa—the detective—slumping his shoulders in resignation. "I'll see what I can do about the media and the public and try to keep... this under the rug."
---
In a dark, seemingly empty room, time seemed to stand still. The air was thick with dust, swirling faintly in the dim light that barely seeped through the cracks of the tightly shut windows. The silence was absolute, broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards, groaning under the weight of neglect. Shadows stretched across the walls, their shapes distorted and unfamiliar, as if the room itself was alive, watching, waiting.
Suddenly, a figure appeared, materializing out of the shadows as if stepping through a veil. Two other figures flanked him, their presence as sudden and unsettling as his own. The first, clad in gray, stood with the casual posture of a man bored by the world, yet his body was coiled like a spring, ready to explode into action at the slightest provocation.
"Relax, it's me," said the gray-clad figure, his voice dripping with disinterest. His expression was one of perpetual boredom, but his sharp eyes betrayed a predator's alertness.
"I thought we agreed for you to knock first, Teikei," snapped the brown-clad figure, a kunoichi whose sharp features were twisted into a frown. Her voice carried an edge of irritation, though her stance was as tense as her companion's.
Teikei, a Chunin from Kirigakure, had been assigned to this operation for his unparalleled sensory abilities and mastery of stealth, particularly the Hiding in the Mist Jutsu. Like many from Kirigakure, he was bloodthirsty and sadistic, harboring a deep disdain for bloodline abilities. Secretly, he was a staunch supporter of the Mizukage's Bloody Mist era, often taking missions as a spy for factions opposing its reform. His presence was a constant reminder of the dark undercurrents that flowed beneath the surface of their uneasy alliance.
"Fuck off, Aiko," Teikei retorted, his tone mocking. "It's obviously me. After all, no one else would be stupid enough to sneak into this dump."
Aiko, the kunoichi from Iwagakure, was a prodigy of the Demolition Brigade. At just fourteen, she had already earned her place as a Chunin, mastering Explosion Release and earning a reputation for her fiery temper and unyielding pride in the Will of Stone. Her village's stubbornness and resilience were etched into her very being, and she had little patience for Teikei's provocations.
Hearing his taunting tone, especially from someone of another village, Aiko's chakra flared, her hands twitching as she took a step toward him. "You bastard—"
But before the confrontation could escalate, the air in the room grew heavier, the oppressive silence thickening into something almost tangible. The temperature seemed to drop, and a cold, suffocating pressure settled over them. Both Teikei and Aiko froze, their blood running cold as their bodies instinctively tensed.
The source of the phenomenon stood at the center of the room, his presence commanding and unnerving. Clad in white, the squad leader of this joint special operation—now gone disastrously wrong—was Takeda Yotsuki, Jonin of Kumogakure and clan leader of the Yotsuki clan. His sharp, calculating eyes swept over his subordinates, his expression unreadable but radiating authority.
"Teikei," Takeda said, his voice low and measured, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Report."