Naruto: Desert Phantom

Sabaku fought his way through his training schedule day after day. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. He grew stronger, faster, deadlier. 007 drilled into him everything a true Anbu needed to know—the art of silence, the anatomy of death, the balance between patience and precision. He had learned to kill without hesitation, to move without being seen, to become a ghost among men.

Sabaku had become a shadow—more than just a shinobi, more than a mere soldier. A true ninja, like those who had once walked the blood-stained battlefields of ancient Japan. No flashy jutsu, no dramatic shouts of technique names. Just efficiency. Just the cold, unrelenting purpose of a blade finding its mark.

Half a year had passed. And he was no longer the same. Harder. Sharper. The man he had been before felt like a distant memory. The sarcasm was still there, buried beneath the surface, but the cynicism had faded. There was no place for it anymore. He had arrived in this world. Fully.

---

Senju Narui woke up with a burning headache, his skull throbbing like a drum. His mouth was dry, the taste of sand clinging to his tongue, and for a moment, he struggled to recall where the hell he was.

Then it hit him.

A puppet. A fucking puppet had come out of nowhere, attacking without a sound. His partner—Taneka—had been with him. They hadn't even been on duty. They were just... blowing off some steam. Two old friends sneaking away from the frontlines for a moment of selfish relief.

'And who would say no to a quickie in the desert?

If only the fucking sand wasn't everywhere afterwards. And I meant everywhere.'

But his bitter humor faded just as quickly as it came.

'Taneka.'

Narui shot upright, his body moving before his mind had fully caught up. Pain spiked through his skull for half a second, then vanished completely—another bad sign. Adrenaline had kicked in. His body knew something was wrong before his brain could process it.

His eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings. He was in a tunnel, narrow and dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of dry earth. The walls were packed sand, brittle and uneven. Small pebbles crunched beneath his fingers as he adjusted his footing. A tunnel. Underground. That meant they'd been taken.

But where was she?

His heart pounded against his ribs, ice cold fear creeping into his veins. He strained his ears, hoping—praying—for some sign of movement, a voice, anything.

Nothing.

The tunnel split ahead, two paths stretching into the darkness.

'Fuck! Why didn't I ever learn an Earth Release jutsu?! ', he cursed. That would've been useful right about now. No way to sense the terrain, no way to shift it in his favor. He was blind, defenseless, and alone.

He clenched his fists.

'I have to find Taneka.

A captured kunoichi is nothing but war spoils to those bastards. Fucking sandrats!'

His stomach churned at the thought.

That couldn't be her fate.

'If it's not already too late…'

He shook the thought away violently. No. He wouldn't accept that.

'Fuck, Narui, get your shit together.'

He would find her. He had to.

And then, they'd get the hell out of here.

Without hesitation, he took the right tunnel and ran.

---

"Today's training scenario is also a test for you," Lion's voice was calm, as always, detached and unwavering.

"We've captured three Chunin from Konoha, as well as a Jonin, and released them in the tunnels. Your task is to kill all the Chunin without the Jonin stopping you."

Sabaku listened in silence. He had faced scenarios like this before—tracking, ambushes, silent kills—but never with a Jonin in the mix.

"That Jonin was released right next to one of them," Lion added. "So do your best."

Sabaku didn't move. He processed.

'Shit.'

Even if the Jonin wasn't his target, he'd still be a massive problem. High-level shinobi had honed instincts, sharper than a blade. Even an average Jonin would react faster than a Chunin could scream for help.

'I can't afford a single mistake.'

The thought of killing no longer sent a shiver through him. The hesitation had been burned out of him months ago. He'd spilled blood before. The first time had been messy—clumsy, uncertain. The way the man had twitched when Sabaku slit his throat, the warmth of the blood running over his fingers… It had stuck with him longer than he liked to admit.

But after that? It got easier. Too easy.

He used to wonder how protagonists in fanfictions adjusted to killing so fast. Now, he understood.

It was simple. A mix of adrenaline, village propaganda, raw, primal survival instinct and in his case... a ton of memories from the original Sabaku about his one year at the frontlines.

Sabaku exhaled slowly and formed a Ram sign with his right hand. His chakra flared for half a second, distorting the air around him like heat waves on sunbaked stone.

'Shinkirō no Jutsu.'

Lion's chakra field expanded as he tested the area. The man's gaze flickered, searching for any trace of his student. But there was nothing. The only remnants left behind were the fading whispers of expelled chakra from the Mirage Jutsu and the faint pulse of a Shunshin.

Sabaku was already gone.

The hunt had begun.

---

Sabaku moved like a ghost through the tunnels, his presence reduced to nothing but a whisper in the darkness. His breath was controlled, his heartbeat steady. Every movement was precise, calculated—his body in perfect sync with the mission ahead.

He found his first target quickly.

A Chunin from Konoha sat slumped against a tunnel wall, dazed, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. He looked disoriented, still trying to make sense of his surroundings. The way his fingers twitched toward an weapon pouch told Sabaku everything he needed to know. He was vulnerable right now.

Sabaku remained still. Only a few meters separated them. The Chunin had no idea he was already marked for death.

Sabaku could have ended it immediately, but he waited. He wanted to feel it—the absolute control, the certainty of the kill.

'Maybe i'm going crazy?! Am i starting to enjoy this?!'

The Chunin exhaled shakily and rubbed his temple.

"Fuck… what the hell is going on…?" he muttered under his breath.

Sabaku silently pulled a kunai from his pouch. No rush. No hesitation. He took a single step forward. Then another.

The Chunin stiffened slightly, as if sensing something was wrong. His body tensed—

Sabaku struck.

The kunai plunged into the Chunin's skull with brutal precision. The man jerked violently, his body spasming for the briefest of moments before going limp. A quiet, strangled gurgle left his lips. Blood trickled from the wound, soaking into the sand.

Sabaku held his kunai in place for a moment, feeling the last tremors fade from the body. Then, with a practiced motion, he pulled the blade free, wiped it on the corpse's uniform, and disappeared back into the shadows.

He was invisible. Unsensable.

He didn't made a sound.

The chunin never stood a chance to resist.

It was over before it even began.

"Maybe I am crazy... but i want to survive this world...at all costs" Sabaku whispered and continued his hunt.

It didn't take him long to find the next two.

The Jonin, according to his west, stood against the tunnel wall, every muscle in his body coiled and ready to react. His stance was casual, but Sabaku could see the tension in his shoulders, the slight flicker of his eyes scanning the darkness. Even in a situation like this, he wasn't letting his guard down.

A young woman stood in front of him—a female Chunin. She was speaking softly, barely above a whisper. Sabaku didn't bother trying to make out her words. It didn't matter.

What mattered was the Jonin.

Sabaku crouched in the shadows, watching. Waiting.

He wouldn't strike blindly. A Jonin wasn't like the others. A single mistake, a miscalculation of timing, and this mission could turn into a bloodbath. Propaply his death.

He know he wasn't ready to fight a jonin. At least not in a fair fight.

So he waited. Consealed by his mirage jutsu and his Gekkei Genkai.

He would strike when the moment was right.

When death came as nothing more than a whisper in the dark.

---

Narui stumbled through the tunnels, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his hands slick with sweat. He had no idea how long he had been running—all he knew was that he had to keep going.

Then he saw it.

A body.

His stomach twisted violently.

A Chunin. Konoha.

Narui took a step closer, and for the first time, he noticed the wound. A deep, clean puncture straight through the skull. Blood had pooled beneath the corpse, staining the sand a dark crimson.

The kill had been methodical. Precise.

A shiver ran down Narui's spine. His instincts screamed at him to turn back, to move with caution. But his mind was consumed by a single thought.

'Taneka. I have to find her…'

He tore his gaze from the corpse and ran.

His feet pounded against the sand, kicking up dust as he sprinted deeper into the tunnels. The air was thick, dry, suffocating. His legs burned, but he didn't stop.

Then—

A voice.

Her voice.

Narui felt something in his chest loosen, his breath hitching as relief crashed over him like a wave. He turned the corner without thinking, his eyes locking onto two figures standing just ahead.

Taneka. And a man.

A Jonin.

Narui's knees nearly buckled.

'Thank fuck…'

"Taneka!" he gasped, stumbling forward.

The Jonin's body tensed instantly. His head snapped in Narui's direction, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Narui barely noticed. He was too overwhelmed with relief, too blinded by the sheer joy of finding her alive.

But the Jonin noticed.

Something was wrong.

His instincts screamed at him, the kind of warning that had kept him alive through years of battle. His chakra flared outward, reaching, scanning.

Something—

A sudden, wet gurgle.

Narui froze.

The Jonin spun around just in time to see Taneka stiffen. Her body trembled, her hands twitching as a kunai was driven through her lower jaw from behind.

Her eyes widened in shock. Blood trickled from her lips, dripping onto the sand.

Narui's mind refused to process what he was seeing.

'No. No. No.'

His breath hitched. His limbs locked.

Taneka opened her mouth as if to say something—then crumpled.

The Jonin's face twisted in horror.

'What the hell—?!'

The trap had been sprung.

The Jonin reacted instinctively. Without hesitation, his hands blurred through the necessary seals as his chest filled with chakra.

"Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku!"

A massive wave of fire erupted from his mouth, roaring down the tunnel like an unstoppable inferno. The flames devoured the female Chunin's corpse in seconds, casting flickering shadows along the walls and filling the narrow space with scorching heat.

He didn't care.

His instincts screamed at him. The real enemy was still here.

He didn't know exactly where—but somewhere in this damn tunnel, the murderer was lurking.

For the briefest fraction of a second, he felt it.

A flicker of movement. A tiny pulse of chakra.

Shunshin.

His gaze snapped to the side, but there was nothing. His battle-hardened eyes searched desperately, but there was no silhouette, no flicker of movement, not even a shift in the air. Yet he felt it.

The killer had just moved—straight to the other Chunin, who had only moments ago stumbled into the tunnel.

And then—nothing again.

Absolute silence. No chakra. No sound.

Not even a sensor like him could detect this bastard.

His heartbeat quickened.

'Some kind of jutsu…? Not invisibility. Perfect concealment.'

His muscles coiled tight. He had fought assassins before, killers who thrived in the dark, who made the shadows their home. But even the best couldn't simply vanish.

But this one?

This killer didn't exist.

His eyes snapped to the Konoha Chunin, whose face was frozen in confusion. The kid was still standing in the same spot, unaware that death had already reached for him.

"GET OUT OF THERE!" the Jonin roared. "NOW! MOVE!"