I, Uchiha, will not be whitewashed!

Six months later.

The focus of the war shifted from the western front to the eastern front.

Rock Village is crippled, Cloud Village is exhausted, Sand Village has fallen, leaving only Mist Village still lying there, like a crocodile that won't let go once it's bitten.

Konoha's troops were being moved eastward in waves, and the supply lines stretched from the heart of the Land of Fire all the way to the coastline, with a transit station every thirty miles along the way.

-

When Shuoge received the transfer order, he was wielding his knife in the forest.

In just six months, his knife became even sharper.

It's not about speed, it's about rhythm.

The techniques that Hatake Sakumo taught him had become ingrained in his bones—drawing the sword meant killing, and sheathing it meant returning it to its sheath, with no unnecessary movements in between.

Kakashi is no longer his match, not because of the difference in swordsmanship, but because of his mentality.

Sakumo Hatake saw this most clearly, but he didn't say it out loud.

The transfer order was delivered by Uchiha Kaze. He stood at the edge of the open space, waiting for Sakugo to sheathe his sword and hand over the scroll.

"Eastern route. Hidden in the mist. Departing in three days."

Shuoge unrolled the scroll, glanced at it, closed it, and stuffed it into his ninja tool pouch.

I didn't ask any more questions.

After resting for more than half a year, Sakumo Hatake received his transfer order and left a few days ago.

He figured his transfer order would arrive soon.

Three days later, Shuoge met up with the team at the village entrance.

Feng led the team, with Yan accompanying them, along with two other Uchiha Jonin, making a total of four people.

Shuoge followed in the middle of the group.

Five people, their Sharingan eyes gleaming a dark red light in the morning glow. Kakashi didn't come to see them off; he had already gone ahead to the eastern front, setting off with Hatake Sakumo.

-

The team set off before dawn.

The morning mist shrouded the streetlights at the village entrance, their glow dissolving in the fog like a blurry eye. Shuoge walked in the middle of the group, his knife behind his back and his hands at his sides.

Behind them lay Konoha, and ahead lay the battlefield.

-

The eastern camp is located on the east coast of the Land of Fire, near the mouth of the Land of Rivers.

The camp was much larger than the western one, with tents densely covering the entire highland, looking like a gray mushroom from a distance.

The sea breeze blew in from the east, carrying a salty, fishy smell and fog, making visibility very low.

Shuoge arrived in the evening.

The fog was thicker than during the day; you couldn't see a face more than three steps away. Feng went to report to command post, Yan went to find barracks for assignment, and Shuoge stood at the camp gate waiting.

A figure emerged from the mist. He wore a green bodysuit, had a watermelon-shaped haircut, and a headband. It was Kai.

He saw Shuoge, paused for a moment, and then grinned.

"Shuoge! You're here too!"

Shuoge looked at him.

Six months ago, Kaby had gained weight; her shoulders were broader, her arms were thicker, and she had a faint scar on her face, running from her left eyebrow to her cheekbone. The mark was very faint and should fade completely soon.

I don't know if it was left over from training or added on the battlefield.

But it's clear that Kai has grown.

"When did you arrive?" Kai's voice was still as loud as ever.

"Just arrived."

"Great! Kakashi is here, Obito is here, and Asuma, Rin, Kurenai, so many people are here!" Guy clenched his fists, his eyes shining like two lamps.

"The eastern front is going to get interesting!"

Two more people emerged from the fog.

Obito walked ahead, his goggles pushed up to his forehead, hands in his pockets, chin slightly raised. When he saw Sakugo, he didn't stop, but merely raised his chin as a greeting.

"Yo, Shuoge." His tone was arrogant, as if to say, "I'm here too, it's no big deal."

Shuoge glanced at him. The goggles were still the same goggles, and he still walked with that same carefree attitude.

Exactly the same as six months ago. No change is the biggest change—it means this guy hasn't been badly beaten on the battlefield yet.

Shuoge withdrew his gaze and did not respond.

Obito's lips twitched slightly. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, then put it back in, pretending not to care.

Rin followed behind Obito, carrying a first-aid kit in her hand and a backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw Sakugo and smiled. The smile was light and faint, like a touch of warmth in the sea breeze.

"Long time no see," she said.

Shuoge looked at her and nodded.

There were two more people standing in the distance through the fog, not coming over.

Asuma stood with his hands in his pockets, looking this way.

Hong stood beside him, arms crossed, her gaze sweeping over Shuoge before shifting away.

Kai was still talking about youth, about hard work, and about how he was determined to surpass Kakashi this time.

Obito, standing nearby, was sabotaging her, saying that he always talked the talk but never walked the walk. Rin was smiling, not a loud laugh, but the kind of smile where the corners of her mouth twitched but her eyes shone.

Shuoge stood there, listening to those sounds.

The sea breeze dispersed some of the fog, revealing the distant horizon. Gray sky, gray sea, gray waves.

He looked at it for three seconds, then looked away.

"Where are the barracks?" he asked.

Kai pointed east. "Over there, the tents by the sea. Uncle Feng saved you a spot."

Shuoge turned around and walked in that direction.

Kai followed, and Obito hesitated for a moment before following as well.

Obito took a couple of steps, then resumed his arrogant demeanor, putting his hands back in his pockets and raising his chin, as if he were the one who wanted to walk this path, not following anyone else.

Lin walked at the very back, her steps very light.

Asuma and Kurenai were still standing in the same spot.

Asma pulled his hand out of his pocket, watched the figures of those people disappear into the mist, and whispered, "Shogo."

Hong didn't say anything, and turned to walk in another direction.

Asuma put his hands back in his pockets and followed.

The sea breeze blew in from the east, and the fog thickened again. The outlines of the tents in the campsite were faintly visible in the fog, like a lonely island floating on the sea.

In the distance, there was the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, one after another, like a heartbeat.

-

The fog on the eastern route was so thick that it was impossible to distinguish between day and night.

Shuoge stood at the edge of the camp, his knife beside him. The sea breeze blew the mist into fine droplets, which clung to his hair, clothes, and scabbard.

Someone was laughing in the distance; it was Kai's voice, strong and clear, piercing through the fog.

Obito said something beside them, and Kai laughed even louder. Rin's voice was also there, soft, like a thread in the wind.

Shuoge listened to those sounds but did not go over.

From ninja academy to the battlefield, he has seen too many people.

Classmates, teammates, campmates.

Some people he didn't even remember the names of, and some he remembered, but they were no longer around.

Nakabayashi, Tetsuya, Kurosawa—every face was etched in his mind, not by conscious effort, but because he couldn't forget them. Those people spoke to him when they were alive, and after they died, they became a picture in his mind, hanging on the wall, impossible to remove.

He was never a warm-hearted person.

I don't make friends at school, and I go home right after class.

When someone tries to talk to him, he replies with just one sentence, no more, no less.

Kai was the only one who would chase him, from the riverbank to the school, from the school to the battlefield. It wasn't that he chose Kai; it was that Kai chose him. He

However, he did not dodge when Kai caught up.

Now they've all arrived.

Kai, Obito, Rin, Asuma, Kurenai.

And Kakashi is already on the Eastern Front.

There were other classmates, most of whom I vaguely remember but can't recall their names, and very few whose names I do remember...

Shuoge looked at the blurry figures in the fog—he had changed squads several times.

Every time we change teams, it's because of staff reductions. Not because of promotions, not because of transfers, but because someone died.

Someone died, the position is vacant, and a new person needs to fill it.

This is war. Not school. Not play house.

He looked down at his hands. These hands had killed many, and saved many. But most of the time, he could do nothing. When Nakabayashi fell, he was killing Iwa ninja. When Tetsuma detonated the explosive tags, he was killing Iwa ninja.

He killed all the enemies in front of him, then turned around and saw that his teammates were gone.

Then he switched to a new team, met new people, watched those new people die, and then switched teams again.

He doesn't want to change again.

It's not that I'm afraid of dying, it's that I don't want to see any more new faces.

He had memorized too many names, far too many.

Every face is a name, every name is a painting, and every painting hangs on the wall, never to be taken down.

He didn't want to add any new paintings.

So he didn't initiate conversations with Kai, didn't seek out Obito, and didn't approach Rin. It wasn't indifference; it was that he didn't want to remember. In case they died, he didn't want to have another painting hanging on the wall.

Through the fog, Kai's laughter rang out again. Obito was shouting, "Who's calling the loser?" and Rin was laughing.

Shuoge turned around and walked back to the barracks.

The knife was behind his back, his hands were at his sides, and his steps were neither fast nor slow.

He pushed open the tent flap, went inside, and sat down. Dao leaned against him, closing his eyes. The laughter outside was still there, muffled and muffled through the canvas, as if separated by a layer of water.

He didn't want to remember. But he already did.

……

……

……

We rested for a day.

The next morning, at the eastern camp, the fog still hadn't lifted.

When Shuoge came out of the tent, Kai was already running outside.

The green bodysuit appeared and disappeared in the fog, like a frog being blown about by the sea breeze.

Obito leaned against a tent pole, yawning, his goggles pushed up against his forehead, his hair sticking up—he had clearly just woken up. Rin squatted beside the fire, cooking porridge, stirring it gently with a wooden spoon.

Someone was calling out names in the camp. Not calling, but reading them out—a messenger was going from tent to tent, holding a list. He walked up to Shuoge and glanced at the list in his hand.

"Chunin, Uchiha Sakugo?"

"Um."

"Your squad: Genin, Might Guy, Kurenai Yuhi."

After the messenger finished reading, he looked up at Shuoge, then at Kai running in the distance, and then at Hong standing beside the tent. "Three-person squad, wartime formation. You are the captain."

Shuoge remained expressionless. He took the task sheet, glanced at it, and stuffed it into his pocket.

The messenger left.

Uchiha Sakugo found Kakashi and handed him the same notification.

Kakashi leaned against a tent pole, his silver hair damp from the mist and plastered to his forehead. He took the mission sheet and glanced at it.

"Genin, Uchiha Obito, Nohara Rin." His voice was flat.

Obito poked his head out of the tent, paused for a moment when he heard his name called, then put his hands in his pockets and raised his chin. "Hmph, Kakashi can actually be a captain?"

Although it's very frustrating, this is a battlefield.

On the battlefield, there is only obedience.

"I'll surpass you sooner or later," Obito mumbled.

Apart from Shuoge, nobody took it seriously.

Kakashi didn't look at him.

Rin stood up from the fire, brushed the ash off her apron, walked up to Kakashi, and smiled. "Nice to meet you."

Kakashi nodded.

Asma was not on the squad roster. He was called to command post alone.

On the way back, Hong ran into him and asked him a question.

Asma put his hands in his pockets and looked away.

"I'm on standby at the camp. They'll call me if there's a mission."

Hong glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.

She turned and walked away, her steps neither fast nor slow, her ninja tool pouch swaying gently at her waist.

Asma stood there, watching her figure disappear into the mist. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it again.

The fog was thick, and the red figure quickly disappeared from sight, leaving only the sound of footsteps, growing fainter and fainter until finally swallowed by the sea breeze.

Asma pulled his hand out of his pocket and turned to walk toward the barracks.

-

Hong was the only unfamiliar person in Shuoge's team. She stood beside the tent, arms crossed, gazing into the distance.

In fact, apart from Guy and Kakashi, the people Sakugo interacted with the most were Obito and Rin—Obito was a member of his clan, and they often met at the Uchiha compound; Rin was his former classmate.

But Hong was different. She didn't talk much in school, and after graduation, they had even less contact.

However, Schogor does not need to "meet" someone to understand them.

He was a time traveler, and he already knew the names, abilities, and even fates of the people in front of him.

Standing here, Kurenai was not a stranger to him as a genin, but a future master of illusion, a potential survivor on the battlefield.

When Shuoge walked over, she turned her head and glanced at him. That glance was faint, like someone examining something—full of inquiry.

Kurenai Yuhi, as a fellow student, had naturally heard of Uchiha Sakugo's genius reputation, and had heard it so many times that she was sick of it.

"Kurenai Yuhi," she introduced herself.

Shuoge nodded and walked past her. "Take your ninja tool kit and meet at the camp entrance in ten minutes."

Kurenai didn't answer and turned to get her ninja tool pouch.

Kai emerged from the fog, drenched in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. Hearing the announcement, "Assemble in ten minutes," he paused, turned, and ran towards the tent, shouting as he ran, "Wait for me! I need to change!"

Ten minutes later, at the camp entrance.

Shuoge stood in the fog, his knife behind him and his hands at his sides.

Kurenai stood to his left, her ninja tool pouch hanging at her waist, a kunai in her hand, which she twirled between her fingers before putting it away.

Kai emerged from the fog, now wearing a new green bodysuit and his headband neatly tied.

"Here!" Kai's voice was so loud that half the camp could hear it.

Shuoge glanced at him, then at Hong.

"The mission is to patrol the eastern coastline. It's fifteen miles from the camp, with three outposts along the way. Return before dark."

He turned and left.

Kai followed, with Hong following behind.

Three people, three pairs of footsteps, treading on the wet sand, making a soft, crunching sound.

The sea breeze blew in from the east, and the fog thickened again. The outlines of the tents in the campsite were faintly visible in the fog, like a lonely island floating on the sea.

The distant sound of waves was low and deep, coming in waves.

-

From the moment you leave the camp, every step you take is no longer secure.

Ahead lies fog, the sea, and an unseen enemy.

You think you control the knife, but you can't even control your breathing.

Life and death are no longer determined by oneself, or even by strength—they are left to luck, the weather, whether the fog clears or not, and whether the enemy has eaten enough today.

This is war.

It's either you die or I live, but more often than not, you don't know who will die.