Clan War

The winds burst in through the open helicopter doors as the elite Minamoto shinobi squad reassembled. Mirai maintained perfect balance despite the chopper's swaying, her hands crossed behind her back while her gaze remained fixed on the spot where Ise Heishi—the heir to the Taira Clan—had been abandoned.

One question gnawed at her thoughts: Why hadn't she killed him?

Even as she wrestled with that question, her face remained inscrutable. The relentless whir of the helicopter blades merged with her inner turmoil, rendering nearly all other sounds mute.

"Alpha," called Gamma sharply.

"Hmm?" Mirai replied, her tone cool and measured.

"Who exactly is Mirai Genji?" Gamma pressed, casting a sidelong glance.

"Do we lack vital intel?" Beta's voice was firm as he added,

"You keep secrets." Delta broke the mounting silence,

"What do you think we are? Friends?" Mirai sighed, stepping away from the chopper's edge and moving to a seat. "We are shinobi," she said evenly.

"We live, and we die." In unison, her teammates affirmed her words.

With a precise double-tap of the button behind her ear, she retracted the mask that had concealed her identity. "You may sit," she permitted, and they all complied.

Their journey back to camp was a quiet, tension-filled ride—the only sound the gust of wind thrashing against the open doors.

By the time the chopper descended onto the Minamoto helipad, the moon cast its silvery glow across the landscape, bathing every structure and soldier in its pale light. The rotor blades gradually slowed, their rhythmic thrum fading into the night as the aircraft settled onto the landing pad.

Mirai was the first to step out. Flanking her was a ceremonial line of foot soldiers: men and women in pristine white uniforms, their caps and attire adorned with intricate black patterns and gleaming golden insignias that denoted their rank.

As she strode between the ranks, a synchronized salute and stomp accompanied her passage. Yet Mirai's mind was elsewhere—focused on the enigma of the day. They were sworn enemies, and yet the man who had captured her had not struck her down when he had the chance. Instead, he had paused, listened, and even held back his force. Was he simply naive, or did his calm facade conceal an ulterior motive?

Mirai swept her hair back from her eyes. Ahead, a four-seater military jeep in a deep shade of green awaited her command.

"Hustle up," she ordered, her low voice barely audible against the roar of the wind. The trio trailing her heard every word.

"Delta, drive."

"Affirmative," came the steady, deep reply.

"Where to, boss?" Gamma asked.

"For now, we rest. At sunrise, I'll ensure that fear grips each of you," she declared, her tone both ominous and authoritative, though her thoughts remained shrouded in mystery.

"Roger that," they responded, heads raised in silent deference.

Inside the jeep, Mirai took the front seat with Delta at the wheel and the others crammed into the back. As Delta steered them smoothly back to camp, Beta broke the silence.

"Alpha, are you the heir?"

"Beta—"

"And what if I am?" Mirai interjected before Gamma could silence him.

"That changes everything," Delta remarked in a low, measured tone.

"It would explain why we were sent deep into enemy territory to retrieve a 'tool,'" Gamma summarized, exchanging a knowing look with Beta.

"I'd tell you all you want to know if you are able to best me in combat tomorrow," Mirai added softly, the tension in the jeep momentarily easing into silence.

They soon arrived at camp. The jeep veered left, allowing Mirai to step out first. Before her stood her commander: Jōnin Head Commandant Sadao Arakiq, exuding authority with his rigid posture and hands at his sides, as if receiving a dignitary.

"Commander," Mirai greeted with a steady salute.

"Jōnin S-rank Mirai, welcome back," Sadao replied, returning her salute with equal formality.

"Sir," Beta and the rest of the squad echoed in unison.

"You are all dismissed for the day. Alpha, might I have a word about your infiltration?" Sadao inquired.

"Roger that," Mirai scoffed lightly as her team dispersed.

"Yes, sir," their captain's voice grew thinner and more distant with each step they took away.

"What do you guys think?" Gamma asked, glancing around conspiratorially.

"Drop it, Hikaru," Delta murmured.

The team quickened their pace toward a large tent now in view. "It isn't unwise for him to ask, though. We'd all be able to protect the heir better if we actually knew the goddamn person." Beta grumbled, causing a brief exchange of knowing looks between the shinobi beside him. "I overstepped," he quickly added.

"Nevertheless, you make a point," Delta conceded.

"Now you get it, huh?" Hikaru teased. "So, interested in finding out more?"

"You suggesting we eavesdrop?" Jirō—also known as Beta—questioned skeptically.

"As much as I'd love to, Alpha is too self-aware. She'll know if we try," Senjuro (Delta) replied easily.

Inside the tent, four strapped beds were arranged—three on the left and one on the right.

"Besides, if you really want to know, all we have to do is defeat her in combat tomorrow," Senjuro continued.

"Yeah, except that's impossible," Hikaru whispered.

Each of the three teammates settled onto a bed on the left, leaving their team leader the separate bed on the right. A subtle hush fell over the room as they pressed the button behind their ears, instantly revealing their bare frames.

"Huh, Hikaru... your breasts are so much firmer now," Jirō announced, unabashedly letting his eyes wander to her exposed nipples.

Hikaru remained impassive, lowering her gaze just below Beta's waist. "And I see your… manhood remains disappointing," she quipped.

"Ouch," Senjuro muttered.

"Feisty... did I mention I love them feisty?" Jirō teased further, his eyes peering all round her exposed body. He watched Gamma as she bent over to put on her underwear.

His gaze lingered on her smooth, toned form, his eyes drawn irresistibly to the curve of her cleft. Desire coiled within him, and soon, his arousal became an undeniable reflection of his craving.

"Bro, what the fuck?" Senjuro chuckled as he quickly adjusted the boxers he had just put on.

"What?" Beta interjected, hastily pressing down on his growing erection in a desperate attempt to conceal it before she could catch a glimpse. But it was futile—the strain against his waistband was all too evident.

"Fuck this— I knew we should get separate rooms, you pervert," Hikaru snapped.

"Hey, don't blame me. The body wants what it wants," Jirō retorted.

"Jirō, stop being disgusting and put something on," Mirai's rigid voice cut in from behind. Immediately, he complied without protest.

"Mirai," Hikaru sighed.

"Our training tomorrow is suspended—we've been assigned a mission," Mirai explained, beginning to undress completely.

"No briefing on the mission objectives?" Delta asked lazily, reclining with his hands behind his head.

"Rest for now. Tomorrow, you'll all know," Mirai replied with a vague scoff, mirroring the relaxed posture of her team. As she settled on her pillow, legs modestly folded, she added, "Jirō, turn your face away from my legs."

"Yes, boss," Beta chuckled.

"Just rub one out if you're this worked up, Duffus," Hikaru suggested.

"Wanna help me out?" Jirō snarled with a sinister grin and a wink.

"Guys! Sleep!" Alpha's voice rang out just before Gamma could retort, cutting through the bawdy banter with finality.