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Chapter 173: Something Is Wrong
🕑 Added 2025-12-11 09:01:21 +0000 UTCThe road narrowed as Team Eight, led by Kurenai, and Team Ten under Asuma moved deeper into the trees.
Gone were the wide patrol paths and familiar landmarks of Fire Country’s inner regions. Here, the forest thinned unevenly, the soil rough and dry beneath their feet, patches of tall grass swaying lazily under the pale glow of the moon.
A small settlement finally came into view.
Not a village in the grand sense—no walls, no watchtowers. Just a quiet town tucked into a forgotten corner of the Land of Fire, where wooden houses clustered loosely around a single dirt road.
Paper lanterns hung from posts and door frames, their light dim and sickly, flickering as if even the flames were tired.
The creepiest and most suspicious thing was how quiet the place was.
Even though night had fallen, it wasn’t nearly late enough for the area to be this silent.
The wind drifting through the empty streets and the heavy atmosphere made Kiba flinch slightly—only for him to jump when Akamaru brushed against his leg.
He quickly straightened, forcing a serious expression.
“…This place feels dead,” Kiba muttered.
With a quick leap, he landed atop a large boulder and scanned the area from above.
“You sure people actually live here?”
Akamaru’s ears flattened slightly.
Shino tilted his head slightly.
“Further confirmation,” he said in his usual calm, even tone.
“Insect activity is abnormally low.”
After a brief pause, he added flatly,
“For a place that should be inhabited… this is unnatural.”
Kurenai slowed her steps, her gaze sweeping over the silent streets.
“…Settlements like this are usually quiet at night,” she said evenly,
“but not to this extent.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“If even the insects are gone… then this place isn’t just asleep.”
Asuma took a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing briefly in the dark.
“…Yeah,” he said quietly.
“Even rural towns make noise.”
He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, eyes steady.
“This kind of silence means something’s wrong.”
“Well yeah...no point standing around talking here,” Kurenai said quietly.
“Let’s meet the man named Rinzō—the one who requested this mission.”
With their guard still raised, Team Eight and Team Ten stepped onto the main road, eyes sweeping the surroundings as they moved.
--
Wooden signs creaked faintly as they swayed overhead. A roadside stall stood abandoned, its cloth canopy sagging, the goods beneath it left untouched—still fresh at a glance, as if the merchant had only stepped away moments ago.
Doors were shut tight. Windows closed. Curtains drawn.
It was as though the entire town had collectively decided to stop breathing.
Ino hugged her sleeves closer to herself, a chill crawling up her spine.
“…It feels like we’re intruding,” she whispered.
Chōji swallowed, chewing slowing to a stop as his eyes darted toward the darkened houses.
“Y-Yeah…” he muttered. “Like we shouldn’t be here…”
Shikamaru only shrugged, hands buried in his pockets.
“Or like we’re late,” he said flatly.
‘Pfft… even now, Shikamaru-kun’s still in the mood to joke,’ Airi thought, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.
The sound came suddenly...
“Kgh—!”
A sharp, wet cough echoed from further down the street.
Everyone froze.
Akamaru’s fur bristled as he let out a sharp bark, muscles tensing.
“Woof—!”
Kiba reacted instantly, dropping into a half-crouch, eyes snapping toward the sound.
“Hey—did you hear that?” he hissed, teeth clenched.
Ino flinched, grabbing Chōji’s sleeve.
“T-That sounded really bad…”
Chōji nodded rapidly, face pale.
“Like… really bad.”
To be fair, it wasn’t their fault.
If they’d been sent to deal with bandits or enemy ninja, they could handle that—even fear would be manageable. But this place… this atmosphere was different.
This kind of silence, this heavy stillness, wasn’t something Ino and Chōji were suited for at all.
Only Asuma and Kurenai remained composed, instinctively shifting positions—one hand on a cigarette, the other lightly raised—both already guarding their teams as their eyes locked onto the darkness ahead.
A hunched figure slowly emerged from the shadows between two houses—an old man leaning heavily on a wooden cane, his shoulders trembling with every unsteady step. He shuffled forward a little more, moving into the dim lantern light…
Then he coughed suddenly, loud enough to echo down the street.
“Cough—cough—!!”
Airi flinched instinctively.
“Sir—!”
The man lifted a trembling hand, motioning weakly for patience, lungs fighting for air as he struggled to straighten.
“…Shinobi…” he rasped, eyes lifting toward their forehead protectors. “From… from the Leaf?”
Kurenai stepped forward, her expression calm and composed.
“Yes,” she said gently. “You wouldn’t happen to be Mr. Rinzō, would you?”
She inclined her head slightly.
“We’re here on a joint mission—one you requested. Can you tell us what’s going on here?”
The old man let out a weak, broken laugh that dissolved into another coughing fit.
“…What’s going on?” he repeated hoarsely.
“Cough… cough…”
He wiped his mouth with trembling fingers before straightening slightly, leaning harder on his cane.
“…Yes,” he rasped. “I’m Rinzō. The one who sent the request.”
His gaze drifted over the silent street, voice dropping.
“…People started getting cursed… one after another.”
Asuma’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Cursed?” he asked. “What do you mean by that?”
Rinzō let out a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging as he leaned on his cane.
“That’s what most of the villagers believe,” he said quietly. “They think it’s a curse from the gods. But I don’t believe that myself.”
He paused, gathering his breath.
“As for what it does… at first, it starts with coughing,” Rinzō continued hoarsely.
“Then a fever. Then breathing becomes painful.”
His grip slipped on the cane for a moment, but he steadied himself and went on.
“…After that, they stop waking up.”
Airi sucked in a sharp breath.
“…Dead?” she whispered.
Rinzō nodded once.
“…Too many,” he said. “Young and old alike—no one was spared.”
His voice dropped even lower.
“That’s why people came to call it a curse.”
Kiba clicked his tongue, teeth clenching as he forced his not-so-reliable brain to work.
“…Could it be Poison?” he asked.
The old man hesitated, his eyes clouding as he looked away.
“…That’s what the rumors said at first,” Rinzō admitted. “And… even now, I still believe it might be true—though that could just be the stubbornness of an old fool.”
He tightened his grip on the cane.
“Someone was spreading something. No one ever saw it—but people started turning on each other.”
His voice sank lower.
“Old grudges. Fear. Panic.”
Another coughing fit seized him.
“Cough—!!”
Kurenai stepped forward instinctively, reaching out to steady him
...but Asuma lifted a hand, stopping her.
His gaze remained fixed on the old man, sharp and assessing, the casual edge in his expression fading.
“…Rinzō-san,” Asuma began slowly.
He didn’t finish the question, but his meaning was obvious.
If this really was an infection—or a curse—getting too close without understanding it would be reckless. Not just for him, but for his team… and for Kurenai.
Rinzō seemed to notice immediately.
He let out a small, weary breath and waved a hand faintly.
“…No,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not infected.”
He gave a short, humorless chuckle that nearly turned into another cough, but he held it back.
“This sickness of mine is old,” Rinzō continued. “It’s been with me long before all this started. You don’t need to worry.”
His grip tightened around the cane.
“I wouldn’t have called shinobi here if I thought I’d put you at risk.”
“...”
“I’m sorry for being so straightforward, Rinzō-san,” Asuma said, letting out a quiet sigh.
“I also have a responsibility to the people under my care.”
After a brief pause, he asked again,
“…Is there anyone else you know who’s infected?”
Rinzō’s expression darkened. He nodded weakly.
“…My wife,” he said. “Nazuka.”
He asked them to wait, then turned and slowly made his way back into one of the houses. After a short while, he returned—this time with a woman beside him.
Her posture was straight despite the pallor of her face. A shawl was wrapped tightly around her shoulders, as if she were holding herself together through sheer will alone.
She coughed softly once before bowing her head.
“…I’m Nazuka,” she said quietly. “Thank you for coming.”
Shino watched her closely, already alert. During the time Rinzō had gone to fetch her, he had prepared himself for the possibility of exposure.
“When did the symptoms begin?” he asked.
“…Two days ago,” Nazuka replied. “At first, it was barely noticeable.”
“….”
Shino hesitated, lips parting as if to ask something more—but stopped himself. The question felt… intrusive.
Nazuka seemed to sense it anyway.
She gave a weak, forced smile.
“…After two days,” she said softly, “the patient dies.”
Airi’s breath hitched.
“Then that means, Nazuka-san would tomorr—”
Before she could finish, Shikamaru placed a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder, silently signaling her to stop.
Airi froze, color draining from her face.
“Ah—! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I really didn’t—” she rushed out, flustered and embarrassed.
Nazuka shook her head slowly, her expression calm.
She didn’t seem offended.
Shikamaru let out a long, quiet breath.
“…This is really troublesome,” he muttered.
“And worrying.”
Asuma nodded slowly, his expression easing just a little.
“…Thank you for answering our questions, Rinzō-san and Nazuka-san” he said. “And… apologies if I came off blunt. I needed to be certain.”
He tilted his head slightly, voice steady.
“For now, we’ll need a moment to talk among ourselves.”
Rinzō seemed to understand immediately. He dipped his head in return.
“…Of course,” he said quietly.
He turned toward Nazuka, offering his arm. She took it without protest, leaning lightly against him as they began to make their way back toward the house they had come from.
“Please,” Rinzō added over his shoulder, “take your time.”
The door slid shut behind them with a soft, final sound.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Ino crossed her arms tightly, brows furrowing.
“…I don’t know,” she said in a low voice. “Something about him feels off.”
Kiba glanced at her, his superior brain not quite catching on.
“Off how?”
“I can’t explain it,” Ino replied, lips pursed. “He talks like he knows more than he’s telling us.”
Chōji frowned, shifting his hands into his pockets to pull out a bag of snacks.
“Really?” he said uncertainly. “He seemed… honest. Just coughing a lot. Like a normal old guy who’s lost too much.”
“…Both can be true,” Shikamaru muttered, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the darkened street. “People usually leave things out when they think it’ll make things worse.”
Shino adjusted his glasses, falling into deep thought.
He had never heard of a disease that progressed this quickly. And from the brief exposure alone, the symptoms gave him no clear answers.
Earlier, he had already released a small number of kikaichū.
They had brushed against the air around Rinzō and Nazuka, sampled their breath, even traced the lingering scents on their clothing—searching for toxins, spores, or foreign chakra residue.
So far… nothing definitive.
That, more than anything, unsettled him.
