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After running for three days and nights, Shikamaru and his team arrived in the Land of Silence.

The Land of Silence was a small nation on the western edge of the continent. About 70 percent of the land was surrounded by mountains and forest, while the plains that made up the remaining 30 percent dotted the various regions of the country. The towns built on these plains were village-sized at best. For the three ninja, coming from Konohagakure in the Land of Fire, one of the five great nations, this nation seemed like nothing more than rustic countryside.

The village of Tobari, the capital of the Land of Silence, was in the middle of the country. Once they crossed the border, Shikamaru and his team slipped through hills and fields to arrive there near the evening on the fourth day after leaving Konoha.

Although it was a poor country, the village at its heart did have a certain urban air to it. Unlike the straw roofs of the houses in the other villages they had seen, even the smallest of the houses in Tobari had wonderful tiled roofs. There were also many buildings of reinforced concrete, and the town was neatly arranged into sections.

The streets were in the shape of a spiderweb. On land subdivided into layers of concentric circles with roads radiating outward from the center, civilian homes and apartment buildings stood side by side. At the center of these circles was a conspicuously large building. When seen from outside the village, this building alone protruded from the cluster of homes and other structures. Rising up a dozen or more floors, the building was adorned with deep red roofs to demarcate each story, with a gold lion at every corner of the dazzling tiled roof coloring the top floor.

“It would appear that this structure is this land’s castle.”

“Quit with the smug observations. Like, we can all see that it is.”

Walking along a large road that led into the heart of the village, Shikamaru listened to his companions with one ear as he looked up at the castle.

They had long since taken off their Konoha ninja gear. When the customs of the country changed, so did the ninja gear. For the gear they would need to sneak into the village, the two members of the Anbu had proposed that local procurement would be best, and he had agreed, so they had slipped into the wealthiest-looking mansion in a village along the way to Tobari and found some clothing they could change into.

They closed robes at the chest, tightened obi belts at the hip, and wore something like wide hakama trousers on their lower halves, stuffing these into knee-high knit boots and tucking in the hems. This was apparently the dress of the Land of Silence. The robe was extremely staid, without the slightest hint of a pattern or design. And it wasn’t that the robes Shikamaru and his team had stolen happened to be plain; the people walking through the village of Tobari were also all in sober colors, browns and blacks and grays.

The signs of the shops were also subdued in color, with not a hint of anything resembling neon. It was a city, but there was none of a city’s vibrancy.

“Do you gain a sense of it, Lord Shikamaru?” Ro said, walking in front of him. Shikamaru walked, wedged between the two members of the Anbu, who excelled at infiltration. Ro was guarding the front.

Ro’s question was just too vague. With no limit on exactly what he should be sensing, he couldn’t answer. When he stayed silent, Ro answered his own question, as though he had had it ready right from the start.

“There is no sign of any subordinates who would be serving the daimyo.”

“You’re right about that.”

As they spoke, their feet carried them directly toward the castle. They didn’t have any particular aim in heading in that direction. Their feet simply turned toward the largest building. They wouldn’t be foolish enough to recklessly charge into it or anything like that.

“It is only citizens who stroll through the town. That we could come this far and see nothing of attendants is mysterious,” Ro announced in his peculiarly old-fashioned way, an observation that was quite accurate.

The daimyo were the ones actually ruling over the nations of the continent; the ninja never stood on the public stage of government. It was only natural that the daimyo would have their residence in the village at the center of that nation, and that the daimyo’s stronghold would be home to any number of attendants taking care of the daimyo. And attendants who served the daimyo were distinct from ordinary citizens. They were more splendidly adorned than the average person, with a slightly haughty demeanor. It was strange that they hadn’t seen any such attendants as they walked through the town.

“Maybe there’s, like, no daimyo,” Soku whispered. Some of the smaller nations had no actual daimyo; they ran their governments through citizen conferences.

But this nation was not one of those. Certain of this fact, Shikamaru kept his eyes on the castle as he spoke, not looking back at Soku behind him. “Sai’s report said this country’s ruled by a man named Gengo.”

“Maybe he’s, like, not a daimyo.”

“Right.” Shikamaru caught sight of a man up ahead of them with a sharp gaze and clad in a long jet-black coat. His look was clearly different from the garb of the Land of Silence that Shikamaru and his team were wearing. His clothing resembled that worn by the Akatsuki, but his coat did not have the red cloud design, nor a collar that hid the neck up to the mouth like the coats of the Akatsuki. The closure was different from those fasteners too, with five large buttons decorated with silver attachments in a line from neck to waist. “Don’t you think we’ve come across a fair number dressed like that guy?”

“I would state that I have also noticed this fact.”

“Is it normal to just jump on board with whatever anyone says after the fact?”

“That look… That look is mayhap our target.”

“Like, shut up. Seriously, old man.”

Shikamaru ignored Soku’s jab and continued. “You ever see that guy before, Ro?”

Shikamaru turned his eyes on the couch set up on the red carpet in front of a tea shop in the corner of the street. Ro glanced back over his shoulder briefly before turning his face toward the tea shop, as if following Shikamaru’s gaze. “I-it cannot be.”

“Huh?! What d’you mean? I, like, don’t follow.”

“So you have, huh?” Shikamaru let Soku’s words slide by and spoke to Ro. “You’ve seen him before.”

The two looked at the man sitting on the couch, spine ramrod straight, drinking tea with his eyes closed. He, too, was wearing a long coat. The man called for someone in the shop. An elderly man, apparently the shop owner, came out, bobbing his head up and down over and over in a bow. The way he deprecated himself to the point of servility was the manner of a citizen currying favor with a daimyo or one of his attendants.

“That is Minoichi, who was a member of the Anbu.”

“That man—”

“He was, like, supposed to have gone missing in the Great War,” Soku muttered, cutting Shikamaru off. The three of them averted their eyes to prevent Minoichi from noticing them and passed by the tea shop.

“This’d all be way faster if I just asked him directly.” Fireworks shot off in his heart, and the corners of Shikamaru’s mouth turned upward naturally.

∞

“Don’t go moving anymore,” Shikamaru said matter-of-factly to the man grinding his teeth, face tensed far more than necessary. They were in a cul-de-sac.

Shikamaru had deliberately chosen a place between reinforced concrete buildings that was damp and clammy even during the day; not a soul was around.

Ro and Soku were on lookout at the entrance to the cul-de-sac. Anbu masters who had infiltrated any number of places, the pair hid themselves in the shadow of a building and held their breath as they concentrated all their attention on the road, as darkness more intense than the gloom of the building’s shadow oozed out from Shikamaru’s feet. Crawling out from either foot, the darkness twined itself around the body of the man before him, creeping along the ground like two inky snakes. The snakes wound themselves around the man’s torso before changing shape into an enormous hand, the fingers of which were slowly approaching the man’s neck.

Suffocating Darkness.

The House of Nara that Shikamaru had been born into was a family that had, for generations, excelled in the art of manipulating shadows. Suffocating Darkness was a jutsu that bound his opponent’s movements with his own shadow, a shadow that had physical power. Thus, not only was his enemy’s body restrained, he could also inflict damage directly.

“I could strangle you with my shadow.”

“I-impossible… Why are you…”

“You know who I am?” According to Ro, this man was a ninja in the Konoha Anbu. It would have been no surprise to learn he knew of Shikamaru. “I know your name, y’know. Minoichi.”

“I-I don’t know that name.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re originally a Konohagakure shinobi, right?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He put more strength into his shadow as it crawled along Minoichi’s body. The hand-shaped shadow hovering around his neck latched on to his Adam’s apple.

“Kaah!” Minoichi cried out in anguish.

“If you were born in Konoha, then naturally you’re aware of just what I can do with this jutsu of the House of Nara, aren’t you?”

I could keep tightening this noose and kill you. That was the implied threat.

“What are you doing in here dressed like that?”

“I-I’m not a ninja anymore,” Minoichi said in a hoarse voice, glaring at Shikamaru. “I’m a revolutionary. All of you living your idle lives in the stagnant world of the ninja couldn’t possibly understand our noble intentions.”

“What kind of nonsense is this? I’m asking you what a ‘revolutionary’ is, got it?” The shadow fingertips tightened their grip.

“Ngh!” Minoichi groaned.

“I don’t care if I end up strangling you to death, y’know,” he spat, feeling like he might throw up himself. His heart was being invaded by darkness.

“Even if I did explain it, you wouldn’t under—Hngh!”

Shikamaru pushed the shadow into the Adam’s apple with an added burst of strength. “If you’re just going to talk garbage, then I really will do you in.” His pupils were wide open as he stared at Minoichi.

“U-understood…”

“Don’t you mean ‘understood, sir’?”

“Understood, sir…”

Shikamaru eased his shadow grip, and Minoichi coughed violently with teary eyes.

“Now, answer. What’s a revolutionary? You guys used to be shinobi. What are you trying to do now?”

Minoichi’s eyes darted in confusion at the rapid-fire questions. He looked at Shikamaru’s cool face, instantly grasped that not a single wasted word would be permitted, and took a deep breath before starting to talk in a rush.

“This nation is ruled by us, the revolutionaries. There are none of such humble birth as the daimyo here. Revolutionary is the title used for those who were once shinobi, but who have since had their eyes opened by Lord Gengo’s divine will. Our objective, together with Lord Gengo, is a true revolution in this world. No matter what you shinobi might plan, you are powerless before Lord Gengo. Whatever you might hear from me, however you might try to learn the truth of this land, it is in vain,” Minoichi said, and laughed.

“No!”

Minoichi slammed his jaw shut in an attempt to bite off his own tongue.

No.

Before his teeth could finish the job, something shot through Minoichi’s neck.

“I pierced the chakra point to make his whole body go to sleep. He’ll be out for, like, three days. Won’t be able to move,” Soku said, having come up to stand behind him at some point. “Revolutionary, huh? Thinks he’s, like, fancy or something. Totally, like, creepy.” Pursing her lips, Soku stared down at Minoichi on the ground, his face peaceful as if he were truly asleep.