The forest was dim beneath the dense canopy, sunlight filtering through in fractured beams of gold and green that danced across damp leaves and gnarled roots. Every branch seemed to groan beneath its own weight, and the distant caw of a crow echoed like a warning. The scent of moss clung thick in the air, earthy and wet, but it couldn't mask the faint tang of blood, sharp and metallic, like iron on the tongue. It lingered like a memory none of them wanted. The silence pressed close, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of shifting gear. Each breath felt heavier than the last, dragged down by the weight of what was coming. Shikamaru crouched low at the edge of a shallow ridge, knees brushing cold stone slick with dew. His fingers sank into the soil, steady and calculating, feeling for vibration, for signs. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but there was a flicker of unease beneath his usual calm, a pressure building behind his temples like a stormcloud refusing to break.

"They're close," he muttered, voice low and clipped. "Tayuya and Sakon are splitting off with the crate." His gaze narrowed, sharp as a kunai. "They're trying to draw us apart." Kiba sniffed the air beside him, nostrils flaring, his posture low and tense like a hound mid-hunt. Sweat clung to the back of his neck despite the forest's cool shade, and the earthy reek of soil, bark, and blood curled in his lungs. Beside him, Akamaru pressed close, panting softly, his ears twitching with every rustle of wind in the branches above. The pup's fur bristled, already on edge.

"Yeah, I can smell 'em," Kiba murmured, voice rough with focus. "They're only a few minutes ahead." His lips curled slightly, not quite a grin, more an instinctual baring of teeth. His pulse thudded like a drum in his ears, but it wasn't fear that drove it. It was anticipation, hot and biting. He glanced toward the treetops where shadows stretched longer with every inch the sun dipped. "If we wait for sundown, we'll have the cover to flank them." His eyes narrowed, animal sharp. "We should hit them then." There was no hesitation in his voice. Only the certainty of a predator ready to strike. Shikamaru didn't even turn his head. His gaze stayed locked on the underbrush below, eyes half-lidded with thought but sharp beneath the surface. A bead of sweat slid down his temple, but he didn't blink. The scent of damp leaves and tension clung to the air around them.

"No," he said, low and deliberate.

Kiba's brow furrowed, frustration sparking in his chest like flint. "What? Why the hell not?" he snapped, voice roughened by impatience and the thrum of looming violence.

Shikamaru's reply came cool and measured, like a blade slid gently between ribs. "We'll be fumbling blind in the dark." His tone didn't rise. It didn't need to. It landed heavy, final. "You'll lose your sense of direction without line-of-sight. Akamaru's nose won't be enough in shifting wind. And I won't be able to use Shadow Imitation. No light, no technique." The logic sank in like a stone. Around them, the forest shifted in quiet pulses, branches swaying, cicadas humming low. Kiba clenched his jaw, feeling the truth of it settle in his gut, bitter and undeniable.

"But it's the perfect chance to-!"

"No. It's not." Kiba surged to his feet, the dry leaves beneath him crackling under his boots. His fists were clenched so tightly the knuckles blanched white, breath coming hard through flared nostrils. The low growl that rumbled in his chest mirrored Akamaru's soft whine beside him.

"We can't just follow them like sheep!" he barked, frustration laced with urgency. "We're giving them the time to regroup, maybe even set traps!"

Shikamaru turned his head slowly, the motion deliberate. His gaze met Kiba's with the weight of calculation, eyes narrowing, voice cutting through the air like wire. "And if we walk into those traps, we're dead." The chill in his words was sharper than steel. "This isn't about pride. It's about survival. We're not chasing, we're intercepting." The silence that followed wasn't empty. It pulsed with the tension of clashing instincts: Kiba's fire, raw and reckless, against Shikamaru's cold, measured storm. Wind stirred through the trees above, rustling branches like quiet warnings. Below it all, the faint heartbeat of the hunt continued, fast, fragile, and unforgiving.

Naruto finally stepped forward, the weight of determination tightening his jaw and setting a fierce light in his eyes. His voice was steady, unwavering against the crackle of tension in the clearing. "He's right." Kiba's mouth opened, ready to protest, but Naruto's gaze held him firm, leaving no room for argument. "Shikamaru was picked as team leader for a reason. We're not gonna get Sasuke back if we're arguing every move. We have to trust him." Akamaru let out a low, pleading whine as he pressed his warm, furry body against Kiba's leg, grounding the tension with silent loyalty. The scent of earth and pine wrapped around them, mingling with the sharp edge of adrenaline hanging thick in the air.

Kiba's jaw clenched, teeth grinding audibly beneath a tight-lipped "Tch..." His eyes flickered, torn between stubborn pride and the stubborn pull of friendship, but the unspoken bond in Naruto's steady stance held firm.

Shikamaru sighed, the sound low and weary as he scratched the back of his head, his fingers brushing through tangled strands of hair dusted with dirt. The afternoon light filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns that flickered over his thoughtful expression. "It's not a perfect strategy," he admitted, voice steady but heavy with the weight of responsibility. "But we stay in the light, we keep the terrain on our side." His gaze sharpened, scanning the ridge below where shadows lengthened and the forest grew dense. "We engage before nightfall, before they expect it. Hit them when they think they're safe." He rose smoothly, the soft rustle of his clothing mingling with the whisper of wind through the leaves. Shikamaru pointed deliberately downhill, his hand steady despite the tension. "We circle left, move parallel, and cut through that ravine." His voice held a quiet urgency. "If we're fast, we can meet them at the far edge of the gorge before they cross. That's where we'll strike." The team's eyes followed his gesture, the air thick with anticipation and the unspoken understanding that everything hinged on this moment.

Naruto nodded firmly, his jaw set with determination, the faint rustle of his cloak mingling with the soft crunch of leaves beneath his boots. Kiba hesitated for a heartbeat, his nostrils flaring as he strained to catch any scent of danger, then gave a sharp, resolute nod. "Fine. But if Akamaru senses a trap-" His voice held a rough edge, the tension evident in the tight grip on his kunai.

"We adapt," Shikamaru finished calmly, his eyes flicking toward the dense thicket ahead, calculating and unyielding. "Now let's move." Without hesitation, the team melted into the forest, their footsteps muffled by moss and fallen needles. The air grew cooler, heavier, as if the very woods were holding its breath, watching silently as they vanished into the shadows. Heartbeats quickened, breaths steadied; every sense sharpened as they threaded carefully through enemy territory. The weight of the mission pressed on their chests, relentless and consuming.

Far ahead, oblivious to the silent hunters closing in, Tayuya's curses slipped from her lips like venom, the tension in her voice betraying her growing unease. Unaware that the real hunt had only just begun, she moved forward, straight into the trap. The wind whipped through the canopy, hissing through the branches like a warning. Tayuya darted through the underbrush, her boots slicing through damp ferns and tangled roots, each step muffled by the loamy forest floor. Her sharp eyes scanned the shadows ahead, every flicker of movement setting her nerves on edge. Sweat clung to her brow beneath the edge of her headband, and the weight on her back, a heavy, iron-sealed container, thudded dully with every stride. It wasn't just cargo. It was a target, a burden pulsing with dark chakra, dragging on her spine like a curse.

Beside her, Sakon crashed through a clutch of low branches, his breath ragged and uneven. "Where the hell are Jirōbō and Kidōmaru?" he snapped, voice rough with irritation and something sharper beneath, unease. "They should've caught up by now." His eyes flicked sideways, but Tayuya didn't answer. Her jaw clenched. The silence behind them felt too loud. The forest too still. Something was wrong. She could feel it coiling low in her gut.

Ukon growled from his brother's back, twitching with frustration. "Probably still playing with their food." His tone was jagged, his irritation a physical presence between them, clawing for release.

Tayuya slowed, boots scuffing damp earth, eyes narrowing as a strange prickle danced up her spine. "Wait. Something's-" She stopped cold. The container on her back gave a sharp, sudden jolt, the straps biting into her shoulders. A dull thud followed. Then another, harder. A kick. From inside. The chakra seal flickered faintly with strain. Sakon and Ukon turned, senses bristling. The forest seemed to pause with them, tension winding tight in the silence.

"The hell?" Ukon muttered, his voice low, guttural, tight with unease. Tayuya spun the container off her back, muscles tense, the thick straps scraping against her shoulders as she crouched beside it. Her fingers hovered over the seal, breath caught in her throat, until a shift in the air stilled her. Above them, high in the tangled branches, Naruto stood like a shadow made solid. Perched with eerie stillness, his eyes sharp beneath a furrowed brow, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The wind tugged at his headband, the metal plate gleaming dully under fractured morning light.

"Shit," Tayuya hissed through her teeth, heart hammering as her hand dropped to her flute. "We've got company." Without hesitation, she backed toward the crate, boots sliding against damp moss as her pulse spiked in her throat. Fingers tightened around the edge, the chakra seals glowing faintly beneath her touch.

Sakon snarled and lunged forward, breath sharp through his teeth, the muscles in his legs bunching with violent intent. "Leave the brat to me." A wet, organic rip tore through the air as Ukon peeled from his brother's back, flesh parting with a shudder. He sprang toward the canopy, chakra lashing at his heels, only to be met midair by a blur of orange and a deafening crack of impact.

"Too slow!" Kiba exploded from the underbrush in a blur of motion, leaves scattering in his wake. Akamaru was a white streak beside him, lips pulled back in a feral snarl, chakra swirling at his paws. The pair crashed into Ukon mid-leap, sending him careening sideways with a howl of surprise. Across the clearing, Shikamaru emerged with precise calm, fingers already weaving into position. His eyes locked on Sakon's silhouette, calculating angles and distance with surgical clarity.

"What the-?!" Sakon spat, jerking around too late as shadows shot toward his feet, writhing like vipers through the tall grass. "An ambush!" he snarled, trying to leap clear, but the tendrils snagged his ankle. Tayuya cursed and lunged back, reaching for her flute, only for the crate behind her to shake again. From above, Naruto dove like a hawk, wind roaring past his ears. He launched three clones in midair, chakra tails trailing bright blue behind them. They split across the battlefield, one hurtling toward Tayuya with wild speed, another veering to intercept Ukon, and the third flanking Sakon. Naruto's own Rasengan pulsed to life, spinning with raw, compressed fury as he slammed down toward Sakon, battle cry ripping from his throat. The air cracked with chakra, and the forest lit with war.

Sakon grinned, teeth bared like a wolf sensing weakness. "Amateur." He clamped down on Naruto's wrist with crushing force, only for the Rasengan to sputter out in a flicker of smoke and blue light as the clone dispelled in his grasp. The heat of the chakra still tingled against his palm.

"Substitution?!" Ukon barked, eyes wide... Too late. A snarling blur ripped between them, tearing the undergrowth apart in a cyclone of spinning chakra and dirt. Kiba's form twisted midair, his claws gleaming with motion, fangs bared, voice a primal growl. Akamaru spun just behind him, the two merging into a tornado of limbs and fury. The attack tore through the space where Naruto had just stood, wind howling in its wake. But Sakon's instincts screamed, and he twisted hard, shoulder catching a scrape of Kiba's spinning chakra before leaping away midair. His breath hitched as he realized... Kiba hadn't been aiming for him at all.

"TAUYUA!" Sakon's voice ripped through the air, raw with panic. Tayuya's head snapped up, eyes flashing, but it was already too late. Kiba was a blur of motion, whirling forward with a snarl, his claws cleaving the air in a cyclone of momentum. The wind from his spin battered the trees, kicking up leaves and dust in a violent spiral.

She reached for the crate on instinct, fingers brushing the metal, only for her body to seize. Her joints locked with unnatural stillness, muscles tensing against an invisible force. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

Ten meters away, Shikamaru stood low and steady, hands pressed together in his signature seal, his shadow stretched like a spear across the forest floor. The tendrils clutched her own like shackles. Sweat beaded on his brow, but his voice was cool. "Got you." Kiba's spin slowed with precise control, the last coil of his chakra unwinding in a sharp gust as he halted just shy of tearing into her. He reached out instead, fingers snatching the crate from her frozen grip. With a twist and a grunt of effort, he hurled it high over the canopy, metal glinting in the sunlight as it soared.

"NOW, NARUTO!" he roared. Naruto's body arced cleanly through the air, wind rushing past his ears as he twisted mid-jump. The crate met his hands with a heavy thud, its weight jerking his arms down, but he grinned. "Nice!" he called, eyes gleaming with adrenaline.

Above the chaos, Sakon dropped like a hawk, his teeth bared, muscles coiled to drive Kiba into the dirt. The rush of his descent tore through branches, leaves spiraling in his wake. Kiba had just landed, breath catching in his throat, too slow to dodge. But Shikamaru's eyes had never left the field. His gaze sharpened. With a sharp breath and a flick of his fingers, he released the jutsu. The shadows that had shackled Tayuya dissipated like smoke. Her body crumpled limply forward, Just as Sakon slammed down beside her, a brutal thud cracking the ground. Dirt and bark exploded outward from the impact. Kiba cursed and dove into a roll, his shoulder scraping bark and grit. He just missed the shockwave, heart hammering in his ears. The earth trembled where he'd stood a heartbeat ago.

"Go!" Shikamaru's voice sliced through the chaos, sharp and urgent. Naruto touched down beside him, muscles coiled and ready. Kiba and Akamaru flanked them, breath heavy, eyes darting for threats as they surged forward. The forest blurred past in streaks of green and brown, the rough bark scraping against their skin, the scent of pine and earth thick in their lungs. The crate thudded firmly against Naruto's chest, its weight a grim reminder of what was at stake. Behind them, Tayuya coughed violently, her throat raw, chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her senses were dulled, dizziness spinning at the edges of her vision. She struggled to push herself upright, desperation knitting her brows. Sakon's snarling figure tore through the undergrowth, veins swelling grotesquely as the cursed seal writhed like molten lava beneath his skin. The air shimmered with dark chakra, distorting the shadows and bending the light around him. His eyes burned with unrestrained fury, a wild, primal fire that promised devastation. Trees cracked and snapped in his wake, leaves and dirt exploding as his massive strides pounded the earth. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he surged forward, a living storm of rage and cursed power, intent on tearing down anything that dared stand between him and his prey. The forest itself seemed to recoil, the weight of his wrath pressing down on every branch and leaf as he gave chase with relentless speed.

The air stank of burning wood and scorched leaves, thick with smoke that clung to Sakon's throat like soot. His lungs rasped with every inhale, but he didn't slow, he couldn't. His feet slammed the earth in a relentless rhythm, each impact sending tremors through his legs as cursed chakra rippled off him in waves. Rage burned through his veins hotter than any fire, a drumbeat pounding in his skull. Just ahead, Naruto's vivid orange jacket flickered through the trees like a taunt, the crate bouncing against his back with every leap. Shikamaru stayed tight to his side, focused, calculating, while Kiba brought up the rear, glancing back every few strides. But Sakon wasn't alone. A flash of white fur darted between roots and broken branches, Akamaru. The pup's ears pinned back, eyes sharp, tongue lolling as he weaved expertly through the wreckage of their passage. With mechanical precision, he dropped slips of paper from his mouth, each one unfolding mid-fall. Chakra glimmered faintly around them, like heat rising off a forge, seals primed to explode. Their soft landings were almost silent, but to Sakon, every paper was a countdown. He skidded around one, barely missed another. A warning, or a trap. He bared his teeth, snarling through the haze. 'You think you can slow me down?' The forest creaked around him, smoke curling through the canopy. His cursed mark flared hotter, surging as he tore forward, unblinking, unstoppable.

Sakon scoffed. "Stupid mutt thinks he's clever." Then, Boom! The forest lit up in a burst of orange and white. Heat slammed against his side as the first tag detonated, a searing edge of fire licking up his sleeve and blistering the skin beneath. He dove behind a tree trunk, the bark erupting around him like shrapnel, splinters cutting into his cheek and shoulder. Smoke poured through the clearing in thick, acrid curls. He coughed, eyes wild, and bolted forward again, blood pounding in his ears. Through the haze, he saw it... Akamaru, standing alone in a break between trees, paws braced, body trembling slightly. His pink tongue hung out as he panted, flanks rising and falling in rapid gasps. His ears were low, eyes locked on Sakon but unmoving. Too slow, Sakon thought. His gaze flicked to the ground. Another tag, glowing softly, nestled beside the pup. "Oh, you're mine." His voice was a low, vicious hiss. In a blur, he appeared beside Akamaru, fingers stretched like claws. With a savage thrust, he drove his arm downward and forced his flesh to split, his chakra unraveling like tendrils of smoke. It writhed and latched onto the pup's body, worming beneath fur and skin until it anchored tight. Akamaru yelped, struggling, but Sakon had him. The parasitic technique took hold, locking them together like a vice. "There," he growled, lips curled into a cruel smile. "Let's see your master save you now."

Kiba dropped from the branches, landing hard enough to jar his knees. "AKAMARU!" His voice cracked with panic. He barely saw the glint of the tag before he launched himself forward, heart hammering against his ribs. His shoulder slammed into Sakon, ripping him away from the seal just as, KRA-KOOM! The world turned white and red. Fire surged upward in a deafening roar, the air splitting with a scream of heat and pressure. The shockwave threw birds from the canopy, their wings scattering like dark leaves, while smoke twisted into the sky in plumes. Dirt and shards of bark flew like shrapnel. For a heartbeat, there was silence, then all three figures, Kiba, Akamaru, and Sakon, vanished over the cliffside's edge, their silhouettes swallowed by falling leaves and the waiting void of the forest below.

"Kiba!" Naruto shouted, voice breaking as he skidded to a halt, breath catching in his throat.

Shikamaru's jaw tightened, fists clenching. "Damn it," he muttered, eyes scanning the smoke-veiled drop. "We can't go after him now-" Far below, the canopy ripped apart with a crash of branches. Kiba staggered through the underbrush, one hand pressed to his ribs where pain throbbed deep and sharp. His breath came in ragged bursts, the air thick with ash and sap. But before he could find his footing, the foliage behind him erupted, Sakon lunged forward, eyes wild, a savage grin splitting his face like a gash. His chakra pulsed dark and seething, and his claws gleamed with bloodlust.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that-" Sakon's voice was like a growl scraping over gravel. He lunged. Kiba ducked instinctively, the air hissing past his ear as a knee missed his face by inches. He hit the dirt hard, grit biting into his palms, but didn't get a chance to recover, Sakon's foot slammed into his ribs with brutal force. Crack. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him hurtling across the clearing. Bark and splinters tore at his back as he crashed against a thick tree trunk, the jolt rattling through his bones.

"Guh-!" Kiba choked, a fine mist of blood spraying from his mouth. His muscles trembled as he forced himself to stand, pain stabbing through his side like a dagger. Akamaru barked urgently from behind a moss-covered boulder, his paws scrabbling at the stone as if trying to dig through it to reach him. Kiba wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing hard. "You're gonna regret that, freak..." he growled, voice hoarse but burning with defiance.

Sakon only grinned wider. Then his skin began to ripple, bones cracked and realigned with sickening pops, his chakra flaring black and oily. A second face began to emerge from his back, eyes blinking open like something out of a nightmare. Kiba's heart thudded, but he didn't look away. He squared his stance, even as every breath seared through his ribs like fire. "I already don't." The forest held its breath for a moment. Then, BOOM. Chakra surged like a tidal wave, rattling the trees with a shrill, unnatural wind that howled through the branches. Leaves tore free and scattered like ash. The sky above the canopy darkened under the pressure. Ukon's skin blackened and cracked like dried earth, twitching as cursed chakra bled out in jagged pulses. His shoulders bulged, neck thickening grotesquely as veins writhed under the surface. Horns erupted from his skull with a sickening crunch, curling like claws skyward. His voice, when he roared, was inhuman, deep, fractured, echoing from a throat no longer meant for words. He landed beside Sakon in a shockwave of shattered roots and fractured stone, the ground groaning beneath his monstrous weight. Dust and debris lifted around their feet like a stormcloud. Their chakra twisted together, dark and corrosive, slithering out like smog, thick enough to choke on. It pressed into Kiba's lungs, heavy with killing intent. He could feel it crawling over his skin, trying to get inside him, to break him down from within.

Kiba crouched low, sweat beading on his temple, muscles coiled and trembling. Akamaru stood at his side, hackles raised, a deep growl building in his chest. Their eyes locked, no words needed. This was the moment. No retreat. No fear. Two souls, one breath, one instinct: fight or die. "Now," Kiba muttered, breath ragged, blood drying on his lips. "We'll show them what we've got." Chakra flared in a vortex of smoke and heat, kicking up dead leaves in a cyclone as man and beast vanished into light. What emerged towered over the trees,a snarling, double-headed wolf, its fur bristling with wild chakra, eyes glowing crimson like twin coals of fury. Steam hissed off its limbs with every exhale. The monster's snarl was thunder in the canopy. It howled. The cry pierced the sky and shattered the silence, sending birds scattering in a panic, the very air vibrating with primal rage. Then it lunged, muscles flexing like a drawn bow, claws leaving scorched gashes in the dirt. Wind howled in its wake. Sakon and Ukon barely pivoted in time. The beast spun, fur catching the light, claws gleaming like forged steel, and slashed. The force alone cleaved through bone. Blood sprayed in arcs, warm and wet, soaking into the roots of the earth. Bodies fell, split clean down the center, torn in grotesque symmetry. For a heartbeat, there was only silence. Even the trees seemed to recoil. Then came the squelch. The halves began to twitch, first a toe, then a jaw, then a stomach that shouldn't move. Guts slithered inward, muscles pulsed and bulged, organs dragged themselves back together in a hideous ballet of survival. Bones cracked like dry ice snapping in fire. Wet flesh reknit into shape. When they stood again, panting and hunched, their grins were feral.

"You'll have to do better than that," Sakon sneered, though his voice came out warped, wet and guttural, like it echoed from a torn windpipe still healing. The stench of iron clung to him, his skin crawling as fresh muscle knitted too fast, too wrong. The giant wolf snarled in answer, a visceral sound that rolled across the forest like thunder. Dirt burst beneath its paws as it lunged, each step cracking tree roots and flattening the underbrush. Its claws gouged deep furrows in the soil, chakra rippling like a storm around its form. But Sakon's fingers blurred through signs, his eyes narrowed. "Summoning: Rashōmon!" The ground split with a deafening crack, a violent rumble shivering the trees to their roots. With a howl of shifting stone, the iron gate surged from the earth, towering and monstrous, its demonic maw yawning wide just in time. CRASH! The wolf slammed into it with a detonation of force that made the sky tremble. Wood snapped. Leaves flew. The impact sent up a plume of dirt and shattered bark, the forest momentarily blinded by debris. In the chaos, the chakra form flickered, then burst. Poof! Smoke exploded midair as the fusion broke. Kiba and Akamaru were flung apart like rag dolls. Kiba hit the earth with a crunch of bruised ribs, breath exploding from his lungs as he rolled through mud and leaves. Pain flared sharp in his spine. He gasped, coughing hard, and pushed up on trembling elbows. Then, he saw it. Akamaru. Still. Half-crumpled near the stream's edge, fur matted with ash and water lapping at his paws.

""No- Akamaru!" Kiba's voice cracked as panic knifed through his chest. He scrambled upright, legs nearly giving out beneath him, then tore across the battlefield with reckless speed. The world narrowed to the motionless form at the water's edge, mud, blood, and the sickening scent of scorched fur thick in the air. Akamaru whimpered, the sound ragged and soft, barely more than a breath, but it was enough. Kiba dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he reached out. Crimson streaks soaked through Akamaru's flank, pooling in the wet soil. His fur clung to his body in damp clumps, twitching with each labored breath. But even wounded, even bleeding, Akamaru's lips peeled back in a snarl. He raised his leg. PSSSHHH! A foul, burning spray of acidic urine arced through the air, hissing like boiling oil as it struck Sakon's face mid-lunge.

"Gah-! You filthy mutt!" Sakon screamed, the sound raw and guttural. Smoke curled off his melting skin as he staggered back, clawing blindly at his burning eyes. His flesh sizzled, black welts bubbling across his cheeks. Kiba's stomach turned at the smell, like flesh and sulfur. Sakon reeled, stumbling toward the river with curses dripping from his tongue. He plunged his head beneath the water with a harsh splash, thrashing as he scrubbed and gasped. The current turned dark around him, carrying away blood and bile.

Kiba turned back toward Akamaru, chest heaving, each breath like fire in his lungs. Dirt clung to his face, sweat stinging his eyes as he dropped to his knees beside his partner. His hand trembled violently as he reached out, fingers brushing over matted fur sticky with blood. "Hang on, buddy," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Just hang on a little longer..." But then, he froze. A wrongness rippled through him. Not just fear, but a deeper, more primal alarm. His stomach lurched. His skin prickled as if spiders were crawling beneath it, threading through his veins. His pupils dilated. Muscles spasmed. Something was inside him. Then came the voice. Not his. A low, coiling whisper, slick with malice, slithering through his skull like oil on glass. Kiba's eyes went wide. His breath caught. He jerked back from Akamaru instinctively, one hand clawing at his own ribs. The chakra inside him felt foreign, invasive, wrong. A sickness in his core.

"Found you," Ukon whispered, the voice impossibly close, inside. Kiba's breath hitched as a cold shiver knifed down his spine. His heart pounded against his ribs, erratic and wild. His hands twitched involuntarily, muscles locking up as if strings were being pulled by someone else. A sickening warmth spread through his torso, like hot tar oozing beneath the surface of his skin. His veins burned. He could feel Ukon there, bones twisting into his, nerves fusing like tangled wires. Ukon's face began to press through his shoulder, half-formed and grinning. "You're weak now," Ukon hissed, each syllable pulsing in his skull like a migraine. "I'll take over everything, your body, your mind." Kiba's vision blurred. He tried to scream, but his jaw clenched against his will. "I'll wear your skin..." Ukon's breath was cold in his ear, "...and kill your mutt with your own hands." Kiba's stomach turned. A wave of nausea crashed over him as his arm moved without command, fingers twitching toward Akamaru. The scent of blood and fur was thick in his nose. He grit his teeth, growling deep in his throat, not in rage, but desperation. No. Not him. Not Akamaru. His chakra surged erratically, fighting the invasion, but Ukon kept pushing, deeper, closer, until Kiba couldn't tell where he ended and the enemy began.

"No..." Kiba's voice was rough, ragged, barely more than a whisper, but his resolve burned fierce beneath the tremble. His breath hitched in shallow gasps, chest rising and falling unevenly as adrenaline fought against the shock flooding his veins. He stared down at the kunai clenched in his trembling fingers, its cold metal slick with grime and blood, edges nicked from countless battles. It felt heavy, yet steady, a lifeline in the chaos unraveling inside him. His eyes flickered downward, meeting the dark stain spreading across his shirt. The searing agony blossomed like wildfire, hot and raw, twisting through his gut as the blade pierced flesh, right where Ukon's poison clung, feeding on his life. The pain screamed in every nerve, but Kiba's jaw locked tight, teeth clenched hard enough to taste iron. He didn't let himself scream. He couldn't. A harsh grunt tore from his chest, ragged but fierce, a warrior's cry of defiance. His vision blurred at the edges, sweat stinging his eyes, but beneath the torment was a stubborn flame, 'I will not lose Akamaru. Not like this.' The metallic scent of blood mixed with earth and broken leaves, grounding him in the battle that still raged around them.

Inside, Ukon's scream echoed, a raw, furious howl that twisted like a blade through Kiba's mind. "You idiot! You'll die!" The venom in his voice was thick with desperation and rage.

But Kiba's response was steel, unwavering even as his body convulsed violently. "Then I'll take you with me!" His entire frame shook with the force of his will and pain, crimson dripping from cracked lips and staining the earth beneath him. He collapsed forward, the kunai still lodged deep in his gut, each breath a ragged struggle that pulled at his shredded muscles. The metallic taste of blood coated his tongue, mingling with the acrid scent of sweat and dirt in the humid forest air. Akamaru's whimper cut through the chaos, a raw, strained sound, before the ninken dragged himself painfully closer, pressing his warm body against Kiba's side, offering silent comfort amid the storm. Inside Kiba, Ukon's presence writhed, coughing and gagging violently as the self-inflicted wound forced a brutal separation. Blood gushed from his mouth in dark, ragged spurts, his form flickering like a dying flame. Finally, half-phased out, Ukon collapsed onto the leaf-strewn ground beside Kiba, twitching with spasms, gasping for breath that barely came, clinging tenuously to the last threads of consciousness. The forest held its breath, the distant calls of birds drowned beneath the heavy thud of hearts fighting to survive. The river's gentle murmur was a fragile counterpoint to the heavy scent of blood that hung thick and coppery in the damp air. Kiba lay sprawled against the mossy earth, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths that rattled like dry leaves in the wind. Each inhale sent sharp, burning agony rippling through the torn flesh of his side, the searing pain a cruel reminder of how close he'd come to the edge. His trembling hand moved with the weight of exhaustion and determination, fingertips brushing against the matted, blood-slicked fur along Akamaru's flank. The ninken's low, pained whimper was a fragile sound, but the warmth of his body pressed against Kiba offered a sliver of solace in the wilderness of pain. Then, a sudden movement broke the tense stillness. Kiba's eyes snapped open, wild and alert, just as Ukon's grotesque, half-corporeal form lurched free from the wounded host with a sickening, wet tearing noise that seemed to echo in the still forest. Ukon collapsed onto the damp ground, his pale, mottled skin stretched thin over a fragile, flickering frame, as if the very essence holding him together was fraying. A weak, guttural snarl escaped his cracked lips, eyes blazing with a mixture of fury, desperation, and a grudging respect.

"I underestimated you..." Ukon wheezed, voice ragged and brittle, his breath shallow and labored, the fight draining from his twisted form but his spirit still burning fierce enough to warn, this battle was far from over. "Sakon," Ukon rasped, his voice barely more than a rasp, ragged and desperate, carrying the weight of pain and need. "Help... me..." His words trembled in the humid air, fragile as a whisper on the breeze. From the riverbank, Sakon staggered forward, every step heavy, his eyes swollen and raw from the acid's searing burn, glistening with moisture that refused to fall. The sharp sting of his wounds didn't slow him; driven by blood and bond, he crouched beside his brother, his breath ragged and uneven. Sakon's trembling hand, slick with sweat and stained crimson, found Ukon's chest. The moment their skin touched, a shudder rippled through their bodies, unnatural and sickening, muscles and sinew seeming to dissolve and merge, as if flesh became smoke, slipping effortlessly into lungs. Ukon's broken form collapsed inward, swallowed by Sakon's, disappearing beneath the surface with a wet, chilling sound. The cursed mark flared violently along Sakon's arm, a dark blaze of twisted chakra swallowing the raw agony and knitting their tortured souls together once more, steadying the fragile bond that kept them alive, and dangerous. Kiba's vision blurred around the edges, the world tilting as nausea and exhaustion clawed at him. The sharp sting in his side pulsed with every breath, a cruel reminder of his limits. Still, his grip didn't falter as he hauled himself upright, muscles trembling beneath ragged breaths that tasted metallic with blood. The weight of Akamaru pressed heavily into his arm, warm and trembling, the faint whine cutting through the pounding of his heart. The ninken's rough tongue grazed his chin, grounding him despite the searing pain.

"I got you," Kiba whispered, voice rough but steady, each word a fragile promise. "Don't worry. We're getting out of here. Together." The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, shadows deepening with the dying light. With agonizing slowness, Kiba moved through the underbrush, careful to keep their chakra sealed tight, a threadbare cloak of invisibility against detection. The cold rush of the river greeted him as he stepped in, water swirling around his legs, numbing but cleansing, washing away the blood that threatened to betray them. Each step was a battle, muscles screaming, lungs desperate for air, but he pressed on, driven by a fierce, silent determination to survive, for Akamaru, for himself.

Behind him, Sakon's form stirred with unsettling rigidity, the subtle twitch of his limbs betraying a predatory awareness. His head lifted slowly, neck bones audibly cracking in a harsh rhythm that echoed faintly against the surrounding trees. His narrowed eyes caught the faint scent carried on the humid breeze, the sharp tang of blood and suppressed chakra. "...They're running," he hissed, voice low and dripping with venom. "They won't get far." The river's current slowed as it curved gently, the water becoming shallow and sluggish, exposing the muddy bank like a trap. Kiba's heavy body dragged itself forward, muscles screaming with every movement, limbs weighted down by exhaustion and pain. His hands sank into the cold, slick mud as he pulled Akamaru close, the ninken collapsing beside him with a soft, desperate whimper. Akamaru's side heaved raggedly, breaths shallow but steady, while the damp earth pressed cold against Kiba's scraped skin. Each throb behind Kiba's ribs felt like a hammer pounding, relentless and unforgiving, yet beneath the agony burned a fierce resolve, they could not stop now.

"Just a little farther," Kiba panted, his voice rough and ragged, the rasp of his breath catching in the cool air as he tightened his jacket around Akamaru's trembling body. The ninken's fur was damp with sweat and blood, matted where it clung to aching muscles. "We'll stay low, out of sight." His eyes flicked nervously toward the dense shadows that lay ahead, knowing every rustle could mean danger. "They'll lose our trail in the water." Carefully, Kiba eased them beneath the gnarled limbs of a low, twisted tree. Its ancient roots wove together in a thick, tangled thicket, a natural fortress that muffled their presence. The bark was rough and cool against his back as he collapsed onto the dirt, heart hammering in his chest. He struggled to draw steady breaths, each inhale sharp with pain, his ribs protesting. His fingers rested gently but firmly on Akamaru's head, a silent promise of protection. The dog's ear flicked weakly under his touch, muscles twitching as if answering the unspoken bond between them. Around them, the forest whispered with the distant call of night creatures, but the threat of pursuit pressed like a shadow over their fragile moment of reprieve. Just the shallow rasp of Kiba's breathing mingled with the soft, rhythmic drip of river water falling from slick leaves overhead. The forest seemed hushed, every sound magnified in the heavy silence. Then, footsteps. Light, deliberate, almost ghostlike against the damp earth. Kiba's senses flared, every nerve taut. He snapped upright, eyes scanning the dense underbrush, nostrils flaring as he searched for any trace, any scent. But there was nothing. No smell, no hint of presence. That was impossible. Heart pounding, he pressed Akamaru closer, feeling the dog's shallow, uneven breaths against his side. Slowly, carefully, he inched backward around the thick roots of the twisted tree, muscles coiled to spring. A soft crunch of broken twigs underfoot echoed sharply in the quiet. Kiba spun, kunai flashing in his hand, but it was already too late. From the shadowed branches above, Sakon dropped like a shadowy vulture, silent and lethal. His boot slammed into Kiba's stomach with brutal force, a sharp, bone-jarring impact that stole the air from Kiba's lungs and sent him crashing to the cold, hard ground. The world blurred as pain radiated through his torso. Akamaru barked weakly, struggling to his paws, dragging himself toward his master, only for Sakon's merciless leg to sweep through the air, kicking the injured ninken aside like a discarded toy. The cruel echo of the blow rang out as Akamaru landed hard, whimpering in the shadow of the relentless predator looming above.

"Impressive trick," Sakon said, his voice cold and mocking as he twirled a crumpled piece of fabric between his fingers. Kiba's eyes widened in shock when he recognized it, his own torn jacket, soaked and muddied from the river. The fabric smelled faintly of earth and water, but beneath that was unmistakably his own scent, sharp and raw. "Masking your scent with river water... smart," Sakon continued, his dark eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "But you left this behind. Had your scent all over it. Perfect for blending with mine." He let the jacket drop at Kiba's feet, the heavy thud echoing in the tense silence. The fabric pooled against the dirt, a silent accusation. Kiba's throat tightened; he coughed violently, blood splattering across the ground beside him, warm and sticky against the cool earth. Every breath was a jagged struggle as he forced himself to push up, pain lancing through his ribs with each movement. His vision blurred slightly, but his jaw clenched in defiance. Sakon's words cut deep, but the fire in Kiba's eyes refused to die.

"I'm not done," Kiba growled, each word ragged but fierce, the stubborn fire in his chest refusing to be snuffed out despite the sharp sting radiating from his wounded side. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, mixing with the damp earth's heavy scent and the faint rustle of leaves overhead. Sakon crouched down beside him, fingers twitching with unnatural precision, his eyes gleaming coldly as they locked onto Kiba's strained form. The kunai in his hand caught the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, the blade's edge gleaming like a sliver of night itself, silent, deadly, inevitable. He lowered his weight, the soft scrape of his boots against the forest floor barely audible, eyes narrowing with cruel anticipation. The blade hovered directly above Kiba's exposed throat, the cold steel inches from skin, a promise of sudden, sharp finality. Kiba's vision blurred, red bleeding into black at the edges, muscles heavy and sluggish, locked in a desperate, powerless stillness. Then, CLANG. A burst of iron and wood slammed into Sakon's striking arm with a harsh crack, the shock jolting through his bones and sending the kunai spiraling from his grip. It spun through the air and thudded deep into a nearby tree trunk, the heavy thunk echoing faintly in the stillness.

"What-?!" Sakon snarled, eyes wide with sudden alarm as he stumbled backward, heart pounding. In that instant, a humanoid puppet dropped between them with a sharp hiss of smoke and the faint hum of taut chakra threads. Karasu landed solidly on the forest floor, its joints creaking as segmented plates shifted over its limbs, reflecting the mottled light like shards of obsidian. The puppet's presence filled the space with a tense, metallic stillness. Kiba blinked, caught between relief and disbelief, as the towering figure loomed protectively in front of him. The sharp scent of aged varnish mixed with the faint copper tang of dried blood and the dry, gritty aroma of scorched sand rose to Kiba's nose, grounding him amidst the chaos. His breath hitched slightly as the puppet's mechanical gaze fixed on Sakon, an unyielding sentinel ready to strike.

Then a voice rang out from above, smooth and cold as steel, cutting through the dense, humid air of the forest like a sharpened blade. "You picked the wrong corpse to toy with." Sakon spun abruptly, his heart skipping a beat, eyes darting upward into the shadowed canopy where rustling leaves whispered secrets. From a sturdy branch high above, Kankurō emerged, crouched low, his dark eyes glinting with resolute determination. The fabric of his flak vest stretched taut over lean muscles, the familiar crest of Sunagakure boldly displayed, this was no longer division between the two villages, but of unity with Konoha. "I'm not here for pleasantries," Kankurō said, his voice steady yet carrying the weight of hard-won trust. With a fluid motion born of countless battles, he leapt down to the forest floor, the impact muffled by the soft earth and scattered leaves beneath his boots. The faint scent of damp moss and the sharp tang of pine filled the air as his puppet, Karasu, clicked into motion beside him, its joints emitting a subtle, insectile whine that sent a chill skittering up Sakon's spine. The mechanical limbs moved with unnerving precision, the dark lacquered wood gleaming dully in the filtered sunlight. Without hesitation, Kankurō's hands danced through the air, weaving intricate chakra threads that shimmered faintly like silver strands in the dappled light. Karasu's head snapped forward, mandibles clicking with a metallic rasp as it lunged, a blur of calculated menace. Sakon barely had time to react, raising his own chakra threads to meet the assault, the two sets of threads clashing with a sharp, crackling sound like brittle twigs breaking underfoot. The tension in the air thickened, charged with the fierce energy of opposing wills. Sakon's heart hammered painfully, adrenaline flooding his veins as Karasu's sharp claws sliced through the space inches from his face. He twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike, the scent of scorched wood and earth filling his nostrils where a puppet's attack had grazed. His own threads lashed out, attempting to bind the puppet's movements, but Kankurō anticipated each strike, fluidly pulling Karasu back and forth like a deadly marionette. The ground beneath them shifted with every step, leaves crushed and twigs snapped in their violent ballet.

"I'm here as an ally of the Leaf," Kankurō repeated, voice hardening as Karasu's form flickered with energy. His movements were a blend of ruthless efficiency and carefully measured control, the years of puppet mastery evident in every motion. Sakon's breath came fast and shallow, the weight of this unexpected betrayal, friend as a Sand-nin to the Sound-nin during Konoha Crush, now turned foe, burning in his chest as the clash intensified beneath the watchful gaze of the ancient trees.

Sakon sneered, the cold edge of contempt curling his lips as his gaze locked onto Kankurō. "A Sand shinobi? Here to help him?" His voice dripped with scorn, sharp enough to cut through the tension like a blade. The air around them seemed to tighten, charged with unspoken threats. Kankurō's dark eyes flicked briefly toward the battered form of Kiba, sprawled on the mossy ground, and the bloodied Akamaru, trembling weakly at his side. The scent of iron and sweat mingled with the damp earth beneath them, heavy and oppressive.

Kankurō's expression remained unreadable, a stoic mask etched by years of hardship, but the slight hardening of his posture betrayed a steel beneath the calm. His fingers twitched, raising a single hand as the chakra threads coiled from his fingertips, shimmering with a faint violet glow that pulsed like a heartbeat against the dim forest light. "We were enemies once. Doesn't matter now." His voice was low, resolute, carrying the weight of a promise forged in the fires of past conflict. The subtle hum of chakra filled the space between them, a quiet storm before the coming battle. "Touch either of them," he warned, "and I'll make sure there's nothing left to bury." The threads snapped taut, quivering with lethal intent as Karasu's eyes glinted, reflecting that cold violet light with predatory focus. Sakon's smile wavered, faltering as the reality of Kankurō's conviction pressed against him like a physical force. His breath hitched, sharp and quick, the taste of iron thick on his tongue as the puppet master prepared to strike. The forest held its breath, leaves rustling softly as the first clash of chakra threads erupted between them once again, tense, crackling, a deadly dance of wills woven through the shadows.

Kiba, barely conscious, let out a strained chuckle that rasped through cracked lips, the sound fragile yet defiant. "Took... your time... puppet freak." His voice was thick with pain and exhaustion, each word a small victory against the creeping darkness of unconsciousness. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the damp earth around him, mingling with the faint rustle of leaves stirred by a restless breeze.

Kankurō's smirk curled knowingly, sharp and unyielding, his dark eyes never leaving Sakon's twisted form. "Yeah, well. Figured I'd make an entrance." The confidence in his tone carried the weight of countless battles, a silent warning that he was far from finished. Sakon's muscles twitched involuntarily, tension rippling beneath his skin as the cursed seal flared in jagged pulses, black veins snaking like living shadows under his flesh, burning with dark, unstable chakra. Beside him, Ukon groaned deeply, his emergence from Sakon's body violent and ragged, breath hitching in harsh gasps. The air grew thick and heavy, charged with raw, erratic energy that crackled and shimmered like a storm about to break. The forest seemed to pulse in response, the ancient trees swaying subtly as if sensing the imminent clash of lethal forces. The ground trembled faintly beneath their feet as Sakon struggled to steady himself, his cursed chakra coiling wildly, a tempest barely restrained. Kankurō's fingers tightened around his chakra threads, ready to snap into lethal action. The faint creak of Karasu's limbs accompanied the sudden surge of power, the puppet poised to strike with mechanical precision as the battlefield braced for the storm to erupt anew.

"You really think some broken wood and wires can stop us?" Sakon growled, voice low and thick with contempt, his breath misting faintly in the cool, shadowed forest air. His eyes narrowed, burning with bitter defiance as the cursed seal throbbed beneath his skin like a dark heartbeat, sending sharp pulses of pain that both fueled and drained him. The scent of damp earth and crushed leaves filled his nostrils, mingling with the metallic tang of blood lingering on his lips. Kankurō said nothing. Instead, he extended his hand deliberately, fingers twitching with controlled precision as dozens of shimmering chakra threads flared to life, weaving intricate patterns in the air with a faint, electric hum that vibrated through the surrounding silence. The faint rustle of leaves and the soft mechanical clicks signaled Karasu's restless shifting behind him, its insectile eyes gleaming with cold calculation. But that was not all. From the dense underbrush came a sudden, heavy thud that shook the loose soil and sent a plume of chakra-tinged smoke curling upward. Emerging fully into view was a new puppet, towering and menacing. Its segmented armor gleamed in black lacquer, the surfaces polished to a deadly sheen, accented with sharp red trims that caught the dappled light like blood drops frozen in motion. Its arms were jointed in reverse, moving with an uncanny, almost unnatural precision that made the joints emit subtle, whispering clicks as they flexed and twisted. Thin vents along its back hissed softly, releasing steady pulses of steam that steamed in the cool air, adding an ominous, mechanical breath to the forest's quiet.

Sakon flinched involuntarily, the tension in his body tightening as his eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise. "What the hell is that?" His voice cracked, a rare hint of uncertainty piercing the otherwise fierce bravado. The new puppet shifted forward with deliberate menace, its movements eerily fluid yet mechanical, each step causing dry leaves to crunch underfoot. The air grew heavier, charged with the promise of violence as the two sides readied themselves for the inevitable clash, metal, chakra, and will colliding beneath the watchful canopy.

Kankurō's voice was level, cold, devoid of mercy. "Meet Kuroari's upgrade." The name struck like a verdict. As he spoke, the puppet's armored chest split open with a harsh, metallic clang, like a bear trap snapping wide, revealing a nest of chakra-forged spikes, each one glowing faintly with killing intent. The scent of scorched resin and chakra smoke drifted from the mechanism, mixing with the earthy musk of disturbed soil. "I rebuilt it for scum like you." Without another word, Karasu lunged forward, limbs blurring into motion. The concealed blades in its wrists hissed out with a metallic shhk, slashing in a low arc toward Sakon's legs. The sudden movement kicked up leaves and dirt in its wake. Sakon cursed and leapt back, his boots slamming into the forest floor with a harsh thud. But Kuroari was already moving, its limbs slicing through the underbrush in swift, inhuman motions, scuttling like a mantis poised for the kill. Steam hissed from its vents, puffing rhythmically with each motion, like the beast itself was breathing in anticipation.

Ukon staggered, his body flickering as he tried to sink back into Sakon's form, but Kankurō's fingers snapped sharply through the air. "Too late." The threads ignited with violet light, humming with violent tension. In that instant, Karasu's arms detached mid-air, crack, splitting into six independent segments that spun like shuriken through the trees. One thread-wrapped claw clamped around Ukon's throat with brutal precision, lifting him clear off the ground; another slammed into Sakon's shoulder, dragging him sideways with a pained snarl. The chakra threads shimmered like strands of spider silk in the filtered light, pulling tighter, tighter, until both brothers were stretched apart, bodies forced into exposed, helpless angles. Then Kuroari struck. With a sound like a collapsing steel gate, its chest snapped shut, BOOM, trapping the twins inside its gleaming cavity. The chakra-lined barbs drove inward with deadly precision, piercing through flesh and muscle in a blur of crimson. Their screams tore through the trees, raw and guttural, echoing off trunks and branches with a haunting resonance. Blood sprayed across the puppet's armor in brief, arterial bursts before sizzling on the red-hot chakra spikes, the stench sharp and acidic in the air.

Kankurō's eyes darkened, their sharp gleam swallowed by the weight of finality as he formed the last seal with one hand, fingers moving with absolute precision. "Game over." His voice was flat, resolute. With a sharp tug of his wrist, the threads jerked taut, and Karasu's jaw snapped open with a hiss. A black smoke bomb launched from its mouth, detonating with a muffled whump that sent a thick, inky cloud billowing into the air. The forest was momentarily swallowed in the shroud, acrid and stinging, the scent of burning oil and metal choking the space. Inside Kuroari, the hidden vents hissed once more, this time releasing a pale, green-tinged mist. The chakra-forged poison spread with eerie grace, seeping into every crevice of the sealed puppet. From within came the sounds of strangled coughing, frantic thrashing, Sakon's ragged gasps, Ukon's claws scrabbling against the metal, then a sickening silence, abrupt and absolute. The stench of blood and toxin leaked from the sealed chest like rot blooming in a closed room. Kankurō exhaled through his nose, the breath slow and heavy. He lowered his hand, the glow of the chakra threads fading into stillness. The puppets stood frozen where they were, weapons stained, limbs glinting faintly in the aftermath. The forest, too, had gone still, only the distant rustle of wind stirred the canopy now, as if nature itself recoiled.

Behind him, Kiba groaned and pushed himself up on shaky elbows, his fingers trembling in the dirt. Blood had dried in a crust across his side, stiffening the fabric of his jacket, and his eyes were wide with something between awe and disbelief. "You... killed them?"

Kankurō gave a curt nod, his gaze fixed on Kuroari's sealed chest, his posture unwavering. "Didn't come all this way to let you die." His voice held no pride, only the cold finality of a mission completed. "Sunagakure doesn't leave debts open." Slowly, his head turned, and he glanced over his shoulder, just enough to show he was watching, calculating. "Now let's get you out of here before the next one shows up." His tone was calm, but beneath it ran the pulse of tension, a readiness honed on a hundred battlefields. The air still tasted of iron and smoke. The woods hadn't finished bleeding.