**Chapter 4: The Beginning of the Mission**
Under the vast expanse of a star-filled sky, Gabimaru moved silently through the fields, his sandals pressing softly against the dew-kissed grass. Each step was measured, the quiet rhythm of his footfalls a testament to his honed skill in remaining undetected. Above him, the heavens glittered with a thousand silver lights, the stars scattered like distant whispers across the velvet night. A pale, ethereal moon cast its cool light over the landscape, illuminating his path and casting gentle shadows upon the ground. The night air was crisp, carrying a delicate breeze that swayed the blades of grass around him and stirred the fringes of his white hair.
His shōzoku, the dark attire of a shinobi, clung to him like a second skin, perfectly tailored to conceal yet allow freedom in every movement. As the wind caught the edges of his clothing, he took a breath and glanced up at the moon, its cold light reflected in the deep gold of his eyes—a gaze calm yet burdened, as if questioning the journey he was about to embark upon.
A faint shuffle of footsteps broke the serenity, drawing his attention. Gabimaru turned slowly, without urgency, his eyes narrowing as he watched the familiar figure approach—a man with a stooped posture, a cane tapping the earth with each careful step. It was Falco, the elder shinobi leader, his worn face bearing the marks of wisdom and countless battles. In his hand, he held a small slip of paper, folded neatly, its edges frayed.
For a long moment, Gabimaru held Falco's gaze in silence, but the elder broke it, offering a warm yet knowing smile as he extended the paper. "Your assignment," he said, his voice gravelly but gentle, the words hanging between them in the chilled night air. "Consider this information essential as you begin your life at U.A."
Gabimaru took the slip of paper, his fingers tracing the worn edges before he unfolded it. His eyes scanned the words, but it was the photograph tucked inside that made him pause—a young girl, seemingly his age, with striking golden hair, soft yet vivid, cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes, an arresting shade of crimson, held a quiet warmth, though a scar marked her right eye, a subtle reminder of hardship. Yui. That was her name.
"A girl?" Gabimaru's voice barely rose above a whisper, his eyes lingering on the photograph, unable to dismiss the faint hint of vulnerability captured in her expression. "Am I meant to… eliminate someone like this?"
Falco's gaze hardened, though a glint of understanding lingered in his eyes. "Feeling uneasy, are we?" he murmured, not unkindly. He knew the turmoil that simmered behind Gabimaru's stoic mask, but he said nothing more, only nodded, giving Gabimaru a moment to collect himself.
With a steadying breath, Gabimaru folded the slip of paper and tucked it away. "No. I will proceed as planned," he replied, the words resolute yet subdued. His voice held a reluctant strength, a vow of duty he could not ignore.
Falco's eyes softened at the young shinobi's determination. He reached into his robe and pulled out a sealed package—a set of U.A. Academy's distinctive uniform, neatly folded within its protective wrap. "This arrived with the acceptance letter," he said, holding it out to Gabimaru. "You'll need it to blend in. And don't worry about this." He gestured to the slip of paper. "I'll burn it myself. We can't risk any loose ends."
Gabimaru took the uniform, the package cool and smooth beneath his fingers. He glanced down at it for a long moment, then looked back up at the elder shinobi, nodding in silent agreement. "Thank you," he murmured, the gratitude subtle but genuine. He didn't need to say more; both understood the weight of the path ahead.
As the first rays of dawn began to pierce the sky, Gabimaru donned the U.A. uniform. He placed his shinobi garments into a bag and stepped out of the compound, leaving behind the hushed corridors and shadowed rooms of his past. The air was crisp and carried a sense of promise, a quiet whisper of the future awaiting him beyond the familiar grounds of the shinobi. Taking a deep breath, he shut the door softly behind him, the cool morning light bathing his face as he set forth.
"This mission will be brief," he muttered to himself, exhaling a cloud of white in the brisk air. "I'll complete it swiftly and return." Yet as he took his first steps down the wooded path, a faint shadow of doubt crept into his thoughts, lingering there as he strode onward.
The journey took him along narrow forest trails, the undergrowth still wet with early morning dew. The rising sun cast a golden glow upon the world, turning the leaves overhead into a living canopy of color and light. He crossed rivers, their waters reflecting the sky's growing brilliance, and wound his way through open fields where the wild grass waved gently in the morning breeze. It was a beautiful yet solitary path, one that only a shinobi could appreciate in silence.
Soon, he reached the village station, where a train awaited. Gabimaru boarded, settling by the window, the uniform feeling both foreign and suffocating against his skin. Yet he remained silent, eyes fixed on the passing landscape. Trees, mountains, villages—they slipped by in a blur, symbols of a world he was sworn to protect yet kept at arm's length. His fingers rested against his chin, a distant expression on his face as he pondered the task ahead, the image of Yui's face surfacing unbidden in his mind.
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels seemed to echo the beat of his heart, steady yet uncertain, propelling him toward an unknown future. His gaze drifted out the window, lost in thought, as the sun continued its ascent.
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