I spent the entire night on guard, mulling over what had happened with our prisoner. The fact that his head was torn off was undeniable, but the reason behind it remained elusive. Sure, I understand that the seal on his tongue served as the trigger. But it wasn't just that—it was my question, and his attempt to answer, that set it off. The real question is, why was this topic so highly classified? Could it mean he was part of some top-secret group in Konoha, a faction shrouded in secrecy? It seems likely. But if that's true, what kind of group was it, and what secrets could they be hiding?
Besides, I have this nagging feeling that I didn't glean everything I could from the prisoner's body.
Yes, the technique and that peculiar recipe—even though I'm not sure it'll work—are both intriguing and useful. But maybe there was something else, something more mysterious that I missed. I'm not exactly disappointed by what I didn't uncover, but discovering something unexpected would have been a pleasant surprise.
Oh well… What's done is done. There's no use dwelling on it.
The morning in the mountains was beautiful. The sun rose slowly over the horizon, bringing a chill that settled moisture onto the ground as dew. Tiny droplets covered the earth and grass like scattered diamonds. Soon enough, warmth would arrive, dissipating this fleeting beauty.
Shiko and Ayamane were already awake, preparing food so we could continue our journey.
"By the way, Suzuki," Ayamane called to me, "where's our prisoner?"
"Oh, he's, uh…" I gestured vaguely. "Kicked the bucket."
"Did you kill him?" she asked.
"No," I replied, shaking my head. "When I questioned him on that subject, the seal on his tongue detonated, tearing his head off."
"Huh," was all she managed to say.
"What are you guys talking about?" Shiko asked as she approached.
"The prisoner," Ayamane replied. "Turns out he had a self-destruct seal."
"Really?" Shiko looked surprised, then shrugged. "Well, in that case, he was definitely part of our test and would have been executed anyway."
"Yeah," Ayamane sighed. "I just thought we'd be able to get more information out of him, not… such a small amount."
"What's done is done, ladies," I said. "Let's take another look at the map with fresh eyes and clear heads."
"Alright," they agreed, spreading the map out again.
Nothing had changed—nor should it have, to be honest. No one touched the map while I was on guard. Still, we noticed a few intriguing landmarks this time. For instance, the Bowl of Illusions lay just beyond the first peak. To be honest, it doesn't sound particularly pleasant or welcoming. Perhaps it's another part of our test. Without further discussion, Shiko folded the map and stashed it in her pouch.
"Ready to move on?" I asked.
"Let's go," Shiko replied, and Ayamane simply nodded.
Our things were already packed, so we set off. I took up the rear of our group. We moved quickly, stopping rarely for breaks. Shiko and Ayamane stayed alert, prepared for any danger. I wasn't particularly tired either, as natural energy and meditation had kept me well-rested. I kept my attention on our surroundings, prepared to respond quickly to anything interesting—or dangerous—that might come our way.
When we reached the first peak, we paused to take in the view. As shinobi, we used chakra to climb faster, bypassing obstacles that would slow or even stop an ordinary traveler.
From the mountain's summit, the world below looked as if it rested in the palm of our hand. Rivers wound down from the mountains, eventually fading into the plains. Green trees and peculiar rock formations, some cloaked in moss and others basking in sunlight, caught our eyes. You could gaze at such scenery forever.
"Let's keep moving," I said to the others after we'd savored the view. "I'd love to stay here longer, but we don't have the time."
"You're right, Suzuki," Ayamane nodded. "Though I'd have liked to linger a bit longer rather than head down into the Bowl of Illusions."
"Not the most inviting name," I chuckled.
"To say the least," Shiko agreed. "Is there any way we can avoid it?"
"Hmm," I murmured, studying our planned route. "Maybe. But I wouldn't assume it's any easier than testing our endurance in the Bowl of Illusions."
"Why's that?" Shiko asked. "We could just go across the peaks there."
"What does the map say?" I asked her.
We reopened the map and quickly noticed a wide chasm between the two peaks, as if someone had carved it out with a technique. No… maybe shinobi once clashed here, but we don't know this place's history. All we can do is speculate.
"Yeah, that's not going to work," Shiko concluded. "So, we're going through the Bowl of Illusions…"
"Everyone remembers how to release themselves from genjutsu?" I asked them.
"Of course."
That was the answer I wanted to hear. I figured they should be as capable with this as I am. So, we'd manage somehow. We began our slow descent, and almost immediately, I felt as though someone was watching us. It was unnerving; no matter how hard we tried, we couldn't locate the gaze. To make matters worse, I could no longer sense Captain Kiochi or Kakashi. That could only mean one thing… in this test, we were entirely on our own.
Gradually, everything around us took on a grayish tint, as if the air itself had absorbed the last remnants of daylight, leaving only darkness and a thickening fog. It coiled around us in thin, barely visible wisps, like ghostly fingers gliding across our skin. Shiko and Ayamane exchanged glances more frequently, their eyes filled with anxiety and confusion. Honestly, this eerie atmosphere was starting to get to me too, sending shivers down my spine.
The temperature dropped steadily, and a bitterly cold breeze swept over us, forcing us to pull our clothing tighter for warmth. The wind grazed our skin like icy fingers, bringing with it an unsettling sense of dread.
Crack!
We froze at the sound. Kunai appeared in our hands instantly, ready to defend against any threat. Our heads turned in every direction, scanning for the source of the noise, but the fog did its job, concealing whatever might lurk within it. A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision… or did I imagine it? I wasn't even sure.
"A skull," Shiko murmured quietly.
She had stepped on a skull, and it had cracked underfoot, creating the sound that had made our hair stand on end. Unexpected, honestly. Very unexpected. Shadows began to gather around us, more and more, as if they were alive.
"Hmm," I murmured, forming a concentration seal with my hands. For a moment, I paused the chakra flow in my body, thinking I might be in a genjutsu. But no… nothing changed. "Let's keep going."
We resumed our journey, descending further, then climbing again. The fog around us thickened, filling the air with a heavy, deathly silence. The ground beneath us was strewn with black stones, interwoven with remnants of lifeless nature—withered branches and twisted roots, like fingers reaching out to ensnare us.
Among the stones, shadows swirled like a vortex, twisting and crawling, creating the illusion of movement in the windless space. It felt as if they were playing dark games, ignoring us as mere intruders in their shadowy realm. Occasionally, ghostly figures flickered between the stones, blurry and indistinct, yet their ominous presence felt tangible.
But all of this turned out to be a strange yet understandable deception. As soon as I used natural chakra, I saw the truth—there were no beings among the stones. Just… stones and nothing more. It was an amazing place, capable of inspiring such fear through mere illusion.
Using Sage Mode to cross the Bowl of Illusions was straightforward—for me, at least. Shiko and Ayamane, however, struggled immensely, looking pale and frightened, their eyes wide and alert for any hint of danger—even though, in reality, there was none. With my mode, I could navigate easily.
"Alright," I said, stopping Shiko and Ayamane. I released a bit of natural energy into the surrounding space so they could feel it too, just a little. "Focus on me."
Shiko and Ayamane looked at me, though their gazes often wandered, and I had to gesture to pull their focus back.
"Stay close and hold onto me," I instructed. "I think I know how we can get out of here."
"Alright," Ayamane replied, trying to steady herself. But it wasn't easy for her—or for Shiko.
I handed them a rope, tying their hands and attaching it to myself. That way, they wouldn't drift off if they saw something strange or frightening. If real danger appeared, I'd let them know. If not, there was no need to worry.
"Are you sure this will work?" Shiko asked, her voice tinged with doubt. "What if there's actual danger or we encounter an enemy?"
"Don't worry," I replied. "We'll respond if necessary."
"I hope so," she muttered.
After that, I took the lead. With Sage Mode active, I moved forward calmly, avoiding particularly challenging areas. Occasionally, Shiko or Ayamane would freeze in place, their eyes wide—wider than I'd ever seen. I don't know what illusion they were experiencing, and frankly, I don't want to know. Why would I, when I can just keep moving and stay in Sage Mode? When I return, I'll have to thank Jiraiya and the Old Toad several times for their training. Without them, this would have been much harder.
We continued onward. Once we reached the bottom, things became especially challenging because neither Ayamane nor Shiko were remotely coherent. I had to calm them down. At the bottom, the fog was so dense it barely allowed any light through. My companions were gripped by fear, unable to think clearly.
Their faces were as pale as chalk, their eyes darting around wildly. Occasionally, tears streamed down their cheeks, accompanied by desperate sobs. Between these fits, they would whisper incoherently or cry out. Honestly, I wasn't a fan of the situation, but I understood the fog was to blame. It conjured these fear-driven illusions. I soon realized that the fog's effect wasn't heavily chakra-based but seemed more physiological, like a narcotic substance.
It appears there's a source of this substance somewhere, keeping this area sealed off. Natural barriers likely isolate it from the outside world, allowing the fog to concentrate and amplify its power.
After that, we began our ascent, which was extremely challenging. I had to lead the girls, who resisted, terrified of something imagined ahead. Fortunately, they didn't have the strength to resist me physically guiding them. With each step, they grew more stubborn, but I kept them moving, unwilling to leave them behind. If they stayed, they'd surely die of fear.
All around us, scattered bones, skulls, and occasional intact skeletons were stark reminders of the unlucky travelers who'd attempted this path without the ability to control natural energy. Without my Sage Mode, who knows how things would have turned out for us. Perhaps positively, perhaps disastrously. I don't want to dwell on it now.
At one point, the girls began moving like somnambulists. Their legs barely moved, their heads hung low, and their hands dangled limply. Their eyes were unfocused. Determined to keep going, I continued dragging them up the slope, hoping we'd reach the top soon.
As we climbed higher, the fog around us grew thinner. A clear blue sky began to appear, and a refreshing breeze swept over us. Feeling a surge of energy, I pushed Shiko and Ayamane forward with renewed enthusiasm. They didn't resist and even started to follow willingly—though, honestly, that wasn't a good sign. I hoped they'd snap out of it once we reached the summit. I needed my teammates alert, not in some strange, trance-like state.
When we finally broke free from the fog, I paused in relief. The sun warmed my face, dispelling the remnants of anxiety and moisture. I felt an urge to change into something clean, something untouched by the Bowl of Illusions.
"Shiko, Ayamane," I called, turning to the girls, but they still looked like zombies. "Hmm… I guess you two won't be doing much right now. A break will do us good. We've got time, after all."
And indeed, we had time. I settled them on a rock, quickly made a fire with nearby materials, and began preparing food. In one pot, I cooked a simple porridge with spices. In another, I brewed a relaxing, soothing tea. While everything cooked, I set up tents and took out two sleeping pills I kept in my pouch—something I hadn't anticipated needing for this situation.
After feeding the girls and giving them tea, I sent them to the tents with the pills. They took them without protest and soon drifted into sleep, slipping into realms that, hopefully, would restore them—be they magical, unsettling, or simply restful.
Once they were settled, I found myself outside again, looking quietly down into the Bowl of Illusions, still blanketed in thick fog. What an incredible place. Closing my eyes, I slipped into meditation, tuning into the senses that had sharpened since mastering natural energy. At the edge of my perception, I felt three chakra sources moving quickly toward us. They were genin but already adults. I had a feeling I recognized one of them. They definitely weren't genin from Konoha; I knew my village's chakra signatures well.
Opening my eyes, I made myself comfortable and waited for the guests. With the girls recovering from their ordeal, running was out of the question. And honestly, there was no point in fleeing. From whom? Some genin? And even if I did run, how would that look? Leaving my teammates behind? I'd surely get more than a slap on the wrist for that.
Within a minute, three genin landed on the rock nearby. They did look familiar. One of them was the guy who had once tried to intimidate me so he could hit on Shiko and Ayamane—and promptly got shut down. Could he really be here to test his luck again?
"So, we meet again," he announced loudly. "There's nowhere for you to run now."
"Run?" I replied, feigning surprise. "Why would I? Running wasn't part of my plan."
I shrugged and hopped down from the rock. Adjusting my uniform, I gave the group of genin a closer look. They had weapons, but none made of chakra-conducting metal.
"Then step aside," he said, "and we'll let you rest once we're done. You realize they're just using you, right? You're the one on guard, cooking, cleaning, while they get to relax."
"Are you sure you're not confusing this team with another one?" I responded. "Or maybe not?"
"I won't forget this, kid," he muttered, with a poorly disguised anger.
"Are you going to keep babbling, or are you finally going to prove you're not weak?" asked an unfamiliar genin impatiently. "I'm tired of chasing you."
The first guy's expression hardened, clearly irritated by his companion's remark. He let out a low growl, visibly annoyed.
"Grr…"