The night air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth as Ogata crouched on a high branch, his porcelain cat mask gleaming faintly under the pale moonlight. His black anbu uniform made him nearly invisible among the dense canopy.

His target was close.

Ogata surveyed the area below. The forest clearing was vast, a perfect kill-zone if he played his cards right. His sharp black eyes caught movement—two figures, one moving with a purpose, the other more cautious, aware of the danger lurking in the dark.

Ogata tapped his fingers lightly on the hilt of his sword. Patience. This was what separated him from the others. He wasn’t going to rush in like some hot-headed genin. No, he’d wait for the perfect moment—when they were vulnerable. When they least expected it.

Ogata’s eyes narrowed behind his mask as he focused on the taller shinobi. That one... looks like trouble. He needed to confirm their abilities first. One wrong move and this could turn into a drawn-out battle—something he wasn’t in the mood for.

A sudden flicker of movement caught his eye. Another anbu operative, lurking just beyond the treeline. Ogata’s lips curled into a faint smirk beneath his mask. He didn’t mind working with someone else—so long as they didn’t get in his way. But knowing Konoha’s higher-ups, they probably didn’t trust him to handle this alone. Tch... babysitting again.

Ogata’s hand moved to form a half-tiger seal, his chakra flowing smoothly as he prepared a shadow clone jutsu. One clone would be enough to draw attention away while he lined up the kill.

The clone materialized beside him in a puff of smoke. Ogata gave it a curt nod, and the clone leaped down from the branch, landing silently on the ground below. It moved swiftly through the underbrush, positioning itself just within the enemy’s range.

Ogata’s real body stayed perched above, eyes narrowing as he focused on his target through the thick foliage. He could feel the pulse of chakra in his fingertips, ready to release a precise strike at any moment.