Once the distance was shortened to a manageable extent, Akira raised a hand, signaling everyone to slow down. The team eased into stealth mode, careful not to alert the Sand Village ninjas ahead. The element of surprise was their greatest weapon.
"One... two... three... four. Four targets," Akira murmured after focusing his gaze through the spinning tomoe of his Sharingan. The world around him sharpened into vivid detail, chakra patterns flaring to life in his vision like lanterns in the dark. "It looks like a squad focused on intelligence gathering."
From his concealed vantage point, Akira confirmed there were no reinforcements or hidden traps nearby. These four appeared to be operating independently—likely akin to Team Guy in the original timeline, a unit trained in reconnaissance and rapid-response tactics.
Though such teams were usually not meant for direct combat, Akira was well aware of the shinobi world's unpredictability. Even an innocuous-looking scout could be harboring deadly jutsu or a trap. Underestimation led to death.
Akira retreated several silent paces back to where Kosuke, Anko, and Hayate were waiting. The foliage rustled faintly as he crouched and began to relay the intel.
"That's definitely a Sand Village squad," Akira said, his voice low but steady. "Based on their chakra signatures, the leader is a Jōnin. The other three are Chūnin-level."
Kosuke nodded solemnly. His years on the battlefield had taught him to read such situations with a practiced eye. "If we're aiming to extract intelligence, then the Jōnin is our key. The others will likely know far less. We'll need to eliminate the Chūnin quickly—cleanly."
Akira considered this and gave a short nod. "I think you're right, Senior Kosuke. Let's go with that."
Kosuke leaned forward and drew lines in the dirt with a kunai, sketching out a rapid battle formation.
"We'll use the plan we've tested before. I'll engage and restrain the Jōnin. Anko, Hayate, each of you take a Chūnin. Akira, your task is to eliminate the remaining one with speed and precision. Once they're down, help me with genjutsu support. Understood?"
"Understood," the three younger shinobi echoed in quiet unison.
With their plan set, Akira moved swiftly into ambush position, cloaking himself in silence and concealment jutsu. The others dispersed to their positions, awaiting his signal.
The Sand Village team advanced with caution, their eyes scanning the surroundings but unaware they were already prey. They believed themselves unseen, their subtle movements shielded by technique and terrain. But they hadn't accounted for Akira's sensory abilities or the penetrating gaze of the Sharingan.
As the targets neared the designated ambush zone, Akira raised his hand sharply, the signal clear.
"Now."
Kosuke emerged from the trees, hands a blur of seals. "Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique!"
A thunderous roar erupted as a twisting serpent of water surged forward, its maw open in a furious snarl. The Sand ninjas were caught off guard, barely managing to scatter. The attack lacked pinpoint destructiveness but served its purpose—it broke their formation.
The moment the water scattered across the earth, it shimmered unnaturally.
The Sand shinobi had no time to ponder the anomaly. Their chakra began to drain from the contact points, the moisture acting as a conduit. Kosuke's technique wasn't just flashy—it was draining them of their power.
Seeing his chance, Akira struck.
Cloaked in blue arcs of lightning, he became a blur, moving faster than the eye could follow. One of the Chūnin barely turned before Akira was upon him.
'Chakra Scalpel.'
Akira's hand glowed faintly, a blade of chakra forming at his fingertips—precise, sharp, and deadly. Originally designed for surgical precision, under Akira's control it had become a silent killer's weapon.
The Chūnin's eyes widened as he recognized the danger. But before he could react, he locked eyes with Akira.
Three tomoe spun hypnotically. Time seemed to slow for the unfortunate shinobi.
Frozen by genjutsu, he stood helpless. Akira didn't hesitate. He swept his arm across the enemy's throat in a clean, practiced arc.
Blood fountained into the air as the Sand ninja's body shuddered, his hands reflexively reaching for his gaping wound. But the light in his eyes was already fading. He collapsed with a thud, lifeless.
Akira didn't flinch.
This was war.
Kosuke had engaged the Jōnin and was trading fierce blows. Anko and Hayate had locked their respective targets in a tense dance of kunai clashes and jutsu exchanges.
But the moment of peace was shattered when the Jōnin locked eyes on Akira's face.
His voice broke through the din.
"Y-you're... the Lightning Flash of Konoha—Uchiha Akira!"
Akira winced internally at the moniker. It had spread faster than he expected.
He had never sought fame. He had secrets, burdens too dangerous to risk in the public eye. But it was already too late to stay hidden. The battlefield didn't care for secrets.
The Sand ninjas had learned the hard way—Akira's speed, his mastery of genjutsu, and his eerie calm in battle had earned him a title that struck fear.
After his near-solo ambush that wiped out eight Sand ninjas and ruined their poison strategy, the Sand Village had marked him. He was a priority threat. His mastery of medical ninjutsu, his precision, and his uncanny speed were burned into their intelligence reports.
Even back in Konoha, his abilities were drawing attention. Word of his Three-Tomoe Sharingan had reached Uchiha Fugaku, who promptly demanded Akira's return for protection and deeper training within the clan.
Akira had refused.
He didn't want to be a pawn in the clan's politics. He didn't want to be seen as the Uchiha's rising star. He just wanted to fight, survive, and protect the people he cared about without being shackled by reputation.
But fate had other plans.
As the Jōnin barked orders to his remaining men, his voice trembled.
"He's got the Three-Tomoe Sharingan. Don't look him in the eyes! Avoid eye contact or you'll be caught in genjutsu!"
The two surviving Chūnin froze, momentarily distracted by the news that one of their own had already fallen. Sweat ran down their faces as they diverted their gazes away from Akira.
But it was too late.
The battlefield had shifted.
Akira was no longer a hidden prodigy.
He was the Lightning Flash.
And he was just getting started.