Chapter 13 - 13: Konoha’s ANBU
Zeldris stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing slightly as a dozen chakra signatures rapidly approached from the west.
He tilted his head.
"...Huh."
Sasori glanced at him. "You know them?"
Zeldris didn't answer right away. He just smiled—that lazy, slightly amused kind of smile that usually meant someone was about to regret their life choices.
"Yeah," he said eventually. "I know them."
That was all the warning Sasori needed. With an experienced hand, he gently set down his puppet body and stood ready, quiet and calm beside Zeldris.
Moments later, they appeared—twelve masked figures cloaked in black ops gear, fanning out over the sand like shadows.
Even from a distance, their movement screamed military precision. Coordinated, efficient, and fast.
But Zeldris wasn't impressed.
"Wow," he muttered. "They really went all out. Either I'm flattered or someone's real desperate."
Sasori raised a brow. "Those masks..."
"Konoha's ANBU," Zeldris confirmed, like he was talking about a particularly persistent brand of mosquito.
Sasori frowned. "In the Land of Wind?"
He looked sideways at his new "boss."
Just what kind of person had he decided to follow?
The lead ANBU stepped forward, tone cold and clipped.
"Captain Zeldris," he said. "The Third Hokage has summoned you. We request that you return with us immediately."
Sasori's head jerked slightly.
...Captain?
He blinked at Zeldris. "You were ANBU?"
"Captain," Zeldris corrected, mildly. "Youngest in Konoha history. Cute title. Didn't pay well, though."
Sasori stared harder.
Okay, now he was really glad he hadn't tried to fight this guy back at the cave.
The ANBU's tone was sharp, clinical. There was no respect in it—just protocol.
Which made Zeldris's smirk widen.
"You know," he said slowly, "for a guy giving a polite invitation, you brought a lot of friends."
No one laughed.
He tilted his head. "And I'm guessing you're not here to throw me a retirement party."
The ANBU leader didn't flinch. "You're a valuable asset, Zeldris. But you've gone too far. The Third Hokage has deemed your actions... concerning."
Zeldris chuckled. "Concerning? That's the word we're using now? What was it last time—'borderline war crime'?"
He stepped forward slightly, his expression cooling.
"You're not here to escort me. This is a cleanup mission. A hit job."
He let that hang in the air.
None of the ANBU denied it.
"Danzo must've been drooling when he greenlit this," Zeldris added, half to himself. "Old man Sarutobi probably signed it with a sigh."
The lead ANBU's silence was answer enough.
Zeldris's smile dropped.
"I'm not stupid. I was in the system long enough to know how it works. You don't send twelve elite ANBU to 'negotiate.' You send them to erase."
Still, his tone stayed calm. Too calm.
Sasori said nothing, but his respect had gone up a notch. Zeldris wasn't just powerful—he knew the game. And he'd clearly walked away from it without flinching.
The ANBU leader spoke again, colder this time.
"You were strong. No one denies that. But strength doesn't make you untouchable. You're just a jonin, Zeldris. You think you can take on twelve of us?"
Zeldris blinked. Then looked over at Sasori.
"Did he just call me just a jonin?"
Sasori shrugged. "Some people learn slow."
Zeldris turned back, expression mock-thoughtful.
"Okay. Serious question. Do they not brief you guys anymore? Or did they just assume I forgot how to vaporize people?"
The ANBU didn't flinch.
But then Sasori decided to speak.
"You Konoha types are awfully confident," he said, brushing sand off his cloak. "Marching into the Wind Country like you're on a sightseeing tour."
The ANBU leader turned, unimpressed.
"And who are you supposed to be?"
"Local," Sasori replied flatly. "And not a fan of uninvited guests."
"Don't worry," the leader sneered. "Once you're both dead, we'll clean it up. No one will ever know we were here."
Zeldris gave a low whistle. "Wow. Real classy. Nothing screams 'noble Hidden Leaf' like 'bury the bodies and deny everything.'"
But then something shifted.
One of the ANBU stiffened, his eyes narrowing behind the mask.
"...What's that?" he muttered.
The others turned.
Lying in the sand behind Zeldris and Sasori was a body.
Blue hair. Slumped. Blood dried to dust.
The leader took a step forward.
His breath caught.
"...No."
Another ANBU gasped.
"That's—!"
They all froze.
The Third Kazekage.
Dead.
The realization hit like a kunai to the chest.
Twelve elite shinobi, trained not to panic, suddenly felt something rare clawing at their spines.
Fear.
Zeldris tilted his head. "Oh, that. Yeah, I forgot to clean up. My bad."
He dusted his hands off like someone who had just taken out the trash.
The desert wind howled softly.
The ANBU didn't speak.
Not because they didn't want to—but because suddenly, none of them knew what to say.
Zeldris stepped forward.
"You came here to erase me," he said calmly. "But you brought the wrong number."
He smiled.
"Because twelve's not even close to enough."
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