There was no doubt about it—Senju Tobirama was injured, and his wounds were severe.
His right abdomen was bleeding profusely, the blood loss alarming in its volume.
Given the demand he'd just made, the situation likely unfolded like this…
Not long ago, Tobirama had clashed with a formidable enemy. The battle left both sides battered, but Tobirama held a clear advantage, forcing his opponent to flee. He gave chase, tracking them through rugged terrain until he arrived at this camp hidden deep in the old forest. Convinced his enemy was hiding here, Tobirama stood his ground.
As someone with exceptional chakra-sensing abilities—and unwavering confidence in those skills—his assumption was entirely reasonable.
Reasonable, but dead wrong.
He needed to deal with his enemy swiftly, or all his prior efforts would be for nothing.
In such a situation, if the rogue shinobi in this camp chose to shelter his target, Tobirama would have no choice but to treat them as hostiles. That much was certain.
Ignoring Hane Genma's hollow, almost theatrical concern and warnings, Tobirama repeated himself coldly, "I'll say it again—hand them over. It's better for all of us."
Genma sighed inwardly. Better for us? You mean staying alive, don't you? Out loud, he replied, "Everyone in this camp is right here. If the person you're looking for isn't among them, then you've come to the wrong place."
Words wouldn't resolve this. There was no trust between them. Only when one side was down, ears attached to a still head, would listening resume. The question was—who'd be the one lying flat?
As he spoke, Genma gestured for his comrades to fall back. They had no reason to get involved in what came next. Otherwise, they'd just end up splattered with blood.
"Looks like we're done talking," Tobirama said.
If possible, he'd have preferred they comply outright. Now, it seemed he'd have to expend more energy.
Genma said nothing more. The air grew heavy with tension, palpable to everyone around. At his signal, the others distanced themselves from the confrontation.
Tobirama didn't stop them. He welcomed their retreat. In his mind, as long as he subdued the leader before him, the entire camp would fall under his control.
To face me alone—does he think an injured Senju is weak? Tobirama thought. Well then…
Commendable courage.
Genma's eyes locked onto his opponent. In the next instant, Tobirama's fingers tightened around the hilt of his oversized tanto. A flash of steel—Genma reacted on instinct, swinging a kunai he hadn't even realized he'd drawn.
Clang!
The blades met, sparks flying.
Genma's lips pressed into a thin line. Tobirama's speed was unreal. If he hadn't been hyper-focused, anticipating that velocity, that single strike could've ended him.
Of course, the Tobirama of this era hadn't yet developed Hiraishin no Jutsu. What Genma faced was merely his masterful Shunshin no Jutsu.
And it wasn't just speed. Fast shinobi often gave the impression of lacking strength, their attacks feeling light. Not Tobirama. He was different.
When his strike was blocked, he didn't flinch. Instead, both wrists pressed downward, forcing the tanto's weight onto Genma's kunai. The pressure surged, threatening to overwhelm him.
As expected of that man's brother, Genma thought. Tobirama's physical prowess wasn't as absurd as his elder sibling's, but his build was still a one-in-a-million marvel.
Speed and strength. Genma couldn't help but grumble inwardly. Why not go be berserkers? Why insist on being shinobi?
A head-on fight was proving tougher than expected. In a split second, Genma decided to switch to a more efficient approach.
He sensed Tobirama's intent wasn't to kill but to control him. That gave Genma room to take risks—calculated ones.
Feigning weakness, he let Tobirama's force push him off balance, stumbling backward as if unable to resist.
Tobirama seized the opening, vanishing with a flicker of Shunshin to reappear on Genma's retreat path. With effortless precision, one hand twisted Genma's arms behind his back while the other pressed the tanto's blade against his throat.
Seeing the tide turn, Genma's comrades started to rush back to help—only to halt at his sharp glance, narrowly avoiding a well-meaning disaster.
"Enough. Don't move," Tobirama said. "Hand them over—"
Mid-sentence, his gaze drifted downward, catching sight of the large scroll slung across Genma's back.
More precisely, he saw the Sarutobi Clan's emblem emblazoned on it.
"A Sarutobi Clan scroll…" Tobirama's voice carried a hint of surprise. "Wait—what's your connection to the Sarutobi?"
Unlike smaller clans that flickered in and out of existence, great clans like the Sarutobi boasted long histories and enduring legacies. That longevity fostered relatively stable relationships—sometimes hostile, sometimes amicable.
The Senju and Sarutobi, for instance, maintained a particularly strong alliance.
Great clans faced a far more predictable world than their smaller counterparts.
Tobirama had only stumbled into this forest chasing his enemy, discovering this hidden camp of rogue shinobi by chance. By all logic, they shouldn't have ties to the Sarutobi.
The emblem caught him off guard.
He was overthinking it. Genma's "connection" to the Sarutobi was less an alliance and more a matter of robbery—specifically, him robbing them.
Genma didn't answer the question. Instead, he muttered under his breath, "That Shunshin… way above average. We're about the same age—how'd you train to move like that?"
The off-topic remark snapped Tobirama back to the moment. Now wasn't the time to dwell on the Sarutobi.
With a surge of chakra, Tobirama tightened his grip, the brutal force making Genma's bones creak. He leaned in, trying to break him through sheer pain. "Cut the nonsense. Hand them over."
"I told you," Genma said, his tone patient despite the pressure, "the person you're looking for isn't here. We don't even know if they're a man or a woman."
Tobirama frowned. Something felt off. He had this man pinned, life hanging by a thread—yet why wasn't he panicking?
The answer came swiftly.
Tobirama didn't believe a word Genma said. As he prepared to escalate his methods, a wave of dizziness hit him. The world spun, strength and sensation draining from his body like water from a cracked jar.
Genma's voice reached him again, calm and unhurried. "Relax. Feeling dizzy's normal—you've lost too much blood."
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