Escaping the Mist Ninja starts with backstabbing your teacher.

Chapter 96 Neji: Father, why are you just watching?!

Leaf.

Izumi and Momona have been staying at the inn closest to the Konoha graveyard for three days.

Infiltrating Konoha itself isn't difficult; the real challenge lies in avoiding suspicion and not being targeted by the Anbu.

Izumi was prepared for this. The hotel he chose was in a remote location with few guests, and the owner was an honest man who didn't talk much.

After three days, everything was calm and peaceful.

Even if you're being targeted, when it's time to actually take action, you can leave behind a shadow clone and escape.

As for Kakashi's movements, he naturally had no way of knowing them.

The whereabouts of Konoha's Anbu ninjas cannot be obtained simply by asking around.

So he chose the simplest yet most effective method: to wait for the other party to appear in places where they frequently roamed.

The first choice would naturally be the Konoha graveyard.

Kakashi usually comes here before or after a mission.

If this person hadn't always liked to talk to himself in front of the tombstone, the tragedy of the Nine-Tailed Night wouldn't have happened.

Besides the cemetery, Ichiraku Ramen and Kimono Bookstore are also places Kakashi frequents.

However, those places are crowded and noisy, unlike the cemetery, which is quieter and makes it easier for Momona to use Kagura's Mind's Eye to perceive things.

"Sir, how much longer are we going to have to stay here?"

Momona leaned on the windowsill, gazing listlessly in the direction of the cemetery in the distance.

The windowsill was shiny from being rubbed by her elbows, clearly indicating that she had spent a lot of time lying there over the past three days.

They had been in this guest room for three days, their daily routine consisting of waiting, observing, and waiting some more.

Whenever someone appears in the distant cemetery, Momona has to be alert and use Kagura's Mind's Eye to investigate.

She found it novel for the first two days, but by the third day, the novelty had worn off.

"When Kakashi appears, memorize his chakra, then we'll leave." Izumi leaned back in his recliner, turning a page of his book without looking up.

"How long will it take?"

"At most half a month, at least—about a week." Izumi finally looked up at her back and added, "It depends on luck."

"oh--"

Momona drawled out the last syllable, her tone filled with disappointment.

She leaned back onto the windowsill, resting her chin on the back of her hand, gazing at the figures that occasionally appeared in the cemetery in the distance.

There were ordinary villagers, ninjas dressed in ninja outfits, and occasionally women who brought their children to worship, but none of them were the person they were looking for.

Izumikawa flipped through the book in his hands, unhurriedly; it was a book about the use and development of chakra.

The content isn't particularly profound, but some of the ideas are worth pondering.

His current plan is to wait methodically until Kakashi arrives, and then have Momona memorize his chakra.

Then he could take some time to contact Hiashi and, under the pretext of "training," have that man bring Neji out.

Everything was arranged, except for Kakashi's arrival.

"My lord! My lord!"

Momona's voice suddenly rose a few decibels, filled with barely suppressed excitement.

"Look at that silver-haired boy with the eye patch, isn't that Kakashi?"

Quanchuan let out a soft "hmm," put down the book, and slowly stood up.

He picked up the binoculars on the table, adjusted the focus, and looked in the direction Momona was pointing.

Before the memorial stone, a conspicuous little white-haired demon stood quietly.

He crouched down and placed a bunch of white flowers in front of the monument, his movements very light and slow, as if afraid of disturbing something.

The headband obliquely covered his left eye, and the exposed black eye was staring at a name on the monument.

Izumikawa put down his binoculars.

"It's him."

Momona immediately closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and activated Kagura's Mind's Eye at full power.

At the memorial stone, Kakashi was completely unaware of the people watching from afar.

He had lost count of how many times he had come here. Whenever he came back feeling upset or couldn't calm down in his empty home, he would come here.

Sometimes he talks a lot, sometimes he just stands silently for an hour.

His gaze fell on the name on the monument: Uchiha Obito.

The man who influenced his life also left him with an eye.

But that eye followed him, seemingly always witnessing the departure of those close to him.

His father, friends, companions, teachers—all the people he cherished—ultimately left him one by one.

He chose to join the Dark Side, turning himself into a sword that only knew how to obey orders.

Being busy can cover everything up, and tasks can fill all the gaps. As long as you don't stop, you don't need to think about those things.

Sometimes he would think that if Obito had survived, he probably wouldn't have ended up like him!

After all, that guy never seems to have any worries, he's always full of energy, and he can always find a reason to cheer himself up.

Despite being a complete failure, he always acts like he's the main character, being noisy, impulsive, and hot-blooded, not caring about anything else.

very noisy.

But it's also something to be envied.

He wanted to live like that person, but unfortunately, he could never become "him".

So he could only live in his own way, trying his best to live on for them as well, using Obito's eyes to see the world for him.

"It will probably be a long time before I see you again."

Kakashi's voice was very soft, as if afraid it would be blown away by the wind.

"There's a mission that requires traveling to a very far place. It'll probably take quite a while."

He remained silent for a while, seemingly considering what to say, or perhaps simply unsure where to begin.

Finally, he glanced at the name one last time, then slowly stood up.

As dusk settled and the cemetery was almost empty, he was the only one left.

In the end, he slowly turned and left, because he had other things to do.

Izumikawa put down his binoculars and glanced at Momona beside him.

The girl kept her eyes closed, her brows slightly furrowed, and then she opened them.

"Got it?"

"Um."

Izumi didn't speak again, but just looked out the window at the silver-white figure that was gradually disappearing into the distance, with a slight smile on his lips.

"It's about time to notify them of the daily mileage."

He withdrew his gaze, thought to himself, and began to contact the Japanese envoy.

The Hyuga clan's territory, the courtyard of a branch family.

Hijiki sat on the corridor, his gaze fixed on the small figure in the courtyard who was vigorously waving her soft fists.

-

Three-year-old Neji was already quite skilled in his moves, his little face full of seriousness, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but he showed no sign of stopping.

genius?

maybe.

At least in Hizashi's mind, his child was a genius.

Neji mastered Gentle Fist much faster than he had at the same age.

Not only in cultivation, but also in his studies, he rarely had to worry about him.

After being pointed out a few times, the child can find the mistake on his own, silently correct it, and never make the same mistake again.

That's why he wanted to send Neji away.

Hizashi clenched the bone in his sleeve slightly; it was a communication token left by Izumikawa.

He has received the message from the other party, and they have agreed on the time and place for today. Everything has been arranged.

He looked at Neji's tense little face as he threw a punch, and all the memories of the other man from childhood to the present flashed through his mind.

I clearly remember how this child would get up on his own every time he fell.

Although he was reluctant to part with it, he understood.

Before long, the curse mark of the caged bird will be etched into those innocent eyes, just like the one on his forehead, and it will never be erased.

Hijiri sighed deeply, his hesitation surging like a tide. After a moment, the struggle in his eyes gradually subsided and transformed into a resolute determination.

Neji.

He called out in a low voice.

The small figure immediately stopped, turned around and looked at him with a hint of doubt in her eyes.

"Father, have I practiced something wrong?"

Rishima shook his head, a relieved smile appearing on his lips: "No. You've cultivated very well; you're ready to try other cultivation methods."

He paused, then stood up.

"Go change your clothes and get ready. Then come find me at the entrance, and I'll take you somewhere."

Having received his father's approval, Neji's little face immediately lit up with a bright smile. He responded loudly, turned around, and ran into the house.

Hijiri watched his retreating figure with a complex expression.

During this period, he was indeed somewhat anxious. He wanted to ensure that Neji mastered the fundamentals of Gentle Fist as much as possible within the limited time available.

Therefore, he became much stricter with Neji, even to the point of being somewhat inhumane.

He knew the child had sensed it, and he knew the child had been working hard, waiting for his approval.

Now, he has given it.

Neji doesn't yet understand what lies behind this recognition.

A dark night, at the edge of Konoha, in a forest.

The bright moonlight spilled through the trees, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, casting dappled shadows in the woods.

Swaying shadows.

This place is remote during the day, and even more secluded at night. The occasional chirping of insects only makes the surroundings seem even more quiet.

Hizashi held Neji's hand and stood in the agreed-upon open space.

Neji looked around curiously, not understanding why his father had brought him to such a place.

The night breeze blew through his freshly washed clothes, carrying a slight chill.

He looked up, wanting to ask his father a question, but found that his father's expression was different from usual. His father's face, which was always stern, was now filled with something he couldn't understand.

"You're a little late."

An unfamiliar voice rang out, its origin unknown.

"This isn't like you, Hitsashi!"

Neji felt his father suddenly loosen his grip on his hand.

Before he could react, he was lifted off his feet by a gentle yet irresistible force.

"Father--!"

He instinctively tried to struggle, but his body suddenly froze as a hand precisely pressed on his pressure points, rendering him unable to move.

He turned his head and desperately looked in the direction of Hizashi.

Under the moonlight, his father stood still, motionless.

"Father—" Neji's voice trembled, filled with disbelief, "Father—save me—"

The daily rate remained unchanged.

His gaze fell on Neji, his lips were slightly pursed, but he did not take a step.

The moonlight shone on his face, and his stern face remained unchanged, except that his hands, hanging at his sides, were slightly clenched in his sleeves.

Neji's voice gradually faded, and the light in his eyes slowly dimmed.

"Why—" he murmured, his voice filled with a bewilderment beyond what a three-year-old should have heard, "Why are you just watching, Father?"

"Your father doesn't want you anymore."

Izumi's voice came from above, light and airy, with a hint of deliberate intent, sounding just like an adult scaring a child.

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