Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 94

[Arata Takeshi - POV.]

The hours wore on, and I continued moving through the endless stretch of savanna, keeping just ahead of the hunters. Despite the occasional close call, they’d yet to actually catch me. I’d managed to dodge each one with a combination of careful pacing, quick reflexes, and an almost ridiculous amount of patience.

But there was a question that had been nagging me ever since Chanua left me here: ‘What was the real point of all this?’

Sure, the “don’t get caught” bit was obvious enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more to it. Maybe the Pride wanted to see how well I could keep my cool under pressure? Or maybe they just enjoyed watching me run around their territory like some sort of exotic prey.

Just as I was mulling this over, I caught sight of a large shadow circling above me—a hawk, flying so high that it was just a dark speck in the sky. It moved in slow, lazy loops, keeping a constant eye on me. This was new… I was under the impression there were only felines in this place.

The hawk let out a piercing cry that echoed across the savanna, and somewhere to my right, I heard a low growl answer back. Another hunter was moving closer, this one likely being directed by the bird. It wasn’t exactly fair, but I had to admit it was an efficient tactic.

I ducked into the tall grass, crouching down and staying perfectly still. ‘Maybe if I avoid moving altogether, I can throw them off.’

The hawk circled lower, clearly searching for any sign of me. I kept my breath steady, barely blinking as I waited for it to lose interest. After a moment, it flew off, heading in the opposite direction. I smirked slightly.

But even as I congratulated myself, I couldn’t help but wonder if this whole challenge was supposed to go somewhere. Just dodging these cats for hours seemed a little... pointless.

As I was thinking this, a familiar voice reached me from behind.

“Oh, still hiding, little cub?” Chanua’s smooth, mocking voice floated through the grass.

She managed to sneak up on me… without any problem. I know I have my sensing sealed, but I still should’ve been able to notice someone reaching me… Sighing, I straightened up, giving her a calm look as she emerged from the tall grass, looking far too pleased with herself. “If hiding keeps me from getting pounced on, I’d say it’s a good tactic. Besides, there isn’t much to do beyond hiding and dodging.”

Chanua chuckled, her tail flicking back and forth. “Perhaps. But you’re missing something important, aren’t you?”

I tilted my head, curious. “Enlighten me.”

She began circling me slowly, her golden eyes gleaming. “Think carefully. This trial isn’t just about survival. If it were, we would have ended it long ago. Don’t you find it odd that every time you dodge one of us, we just... let you go?”

She had a point. They’d been relentless but oddly lenient, they never attacked more than once or twice. I could have sworn a couple of the hunters had me cornered earlier, or had the chance to deliver a reasonable attack only for them to back off at the last second, as if they’d been giving me a chance. Almost like they were waiting for me to... do something.

“You’re saying there’s more to this than avoiding you all?”

“Exactly.” She nodded, her grin widening. “The point isn’t to simply run, little cub. We are not prey, and our summoner shouldn’t be one as well. The point is to learn, to adapt.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Adapt to what, exactly?”

She stopped in front of me, eyes glinting. “Why, to learn the ways of the Pride, of course. We’re hunters, but we’re also a family. If you’re going to be one of us, you need to stop thinking like prey and start thinking like a hunter.”

So that was it. The whole time, they’d been trying to teach me to be a hunter, not just to avoid one. It was like a twisted version of tag, except the goal wasn’t just to escape, but to understand the mind of my pursuers. Fun.

I gave a slight nod, processing this new information. “So... I need to start thinking like you.”

Chanua grinned, clearly pleased. “Yes. And maybe then you’ll realize there’s a way to end this challenge without running at all.”

I thought about that for a moment. So if running wasn’t the solution, then what was? Clearly, I was supposed to show something, but what? Strength? Wit? Confidence? Something would get them to acknowledge me as one of them, but it wasn’t going to come from sprinting across the savanna.

“So,” I said, giving her a faint smile, “if I stop running, does that mean the challenge ends?”

She chuckled softly. “It means we’ll see what you’re really capable of.”

And with that, she disappeared back into the tall grass, leaving me alone to figure out what exactly that meant.

I stood there for a few moments, mulling over her words. The Pride wanted me to stop thinking like prey. They wanted me to understand their approach, to understand that they weren’t just hunting me—they were teaching me me. Testing whether I could act like a member of the Pride, not just a meal trying to escape.

‘Let’s start with the basics,’ I thought, crouching low in the tall grass. ‘If the point is to prove myself as one of them, then maybe it’s time I see how good they are at getting a taste of their own medicine.

I shifted my weight carefully, scanning the area for any signs of movement. Soon enough, a shadow moved through the grass up ahead, pacing back and forth. It was one of the lynxes I’d seen earlier, the one who’d been taunting me from a branch. I took a slow, silent breath, moving through the grass as quietly as I could, creeping closer until I was just a few feet away.

The lynx flicked its ears, sensing something nearby. I froze, holding my breath. After a moment, it settled back down, clearly assuming I was too far to notice. ‘Perfect.’ I inched forward, keeping my movements smooth, fluid, until I was practically on top of it. Then, without a sound, I reached out and— My hand made contact with soft fur, and I gave the lynx a firm pat on its head.

The lynx froze, every muscle in its body tensing as it realized it had been caught off guard. It whipped its head around, glaring at me with wide, shocked eyes.

“Hello, friend,” I said calmly, scratching it behind the ears. “Got you.”

The lynx let out a bewildered hiss, but it didn’t move to escape. It seemed frozen between indignation and confusion, and before it could decide, I’d given it another few affectionate pats. Eventually, it slinked away, casting me a glare over its shoulder, as if to say, ‘This isn’t over.’

But I grinned, satisfied. ‘One down.’

This wasn’t so bad after all. I’d even call it fun. And honestly, if these cats weren’t meant to be friends, then why were they all so friend-shaped? It only made sense.

My next target was a leopard, one of the bigger hunters that had tried to corner me earlier. It was patrolling a little further off, its steps slow and confident. I moved through the grass, keeping low, letting the rhythm of the wind cover my movements as I crept closer.

The leopard paused, looking over its shoulder, clearly not expecting anyone to be this close. I seized my moment and lunged, landing a hand squarely on its back and giving it a good scratch between the shoulder blades.

“There you are!” I said cheerfully, scratching it as if we were old friends. “Bet you didn’t expect this, did you?”

The leopard whipped around, clearly stunned. It gave me a low, offended growl, but it made no move to attack. Instead, it just sat there, as if processing the fact that a kid had just ambushed it. I offered it one last pat on the head before stepping back, giving it room to run off with its dignity mostly intact.

‘Two down’, I thought, moving on, trying to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

I continued through the savanna, searching for my next target, when I spotted another familiar figure lurking nearby—Chanua herself. She was stalking gracefully through the grass, her tail flicking with anticipation, clearly waiting for the right moment to strike. She had no idea I was closing in on her, completely oblivious to my approach.

‘Well,’ I thought, ‘if she didn’t want me thinking like prey, then let’s see how she handles being on the other side.’

I crept closer, moving as silently as possible, until I was practically on her tail. She hadn’t noticed a thing. I reached out, my hand hovering above her head, and— My hand made contact with her fur, and I gave her a firm pat.

Chanua froze mid-step. She turned her head slowly, her eyes widening in shock as she looked back at me, a mixture of confusion and indignation flickering in her gaze.

I grinned. “Got you.”

She blinked, clearly not used to being caught so off guard. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, she just sat there, looking utterly baffled.

“You wanted me to stop thinking like prey,” I said, giving her an extra pat for emphasis. “So, here we are.”

Chanua finally seemed to find her voice, but all she managed was a low, disbelieving growl. I could almost see the mental gears turning, as if she were wondering how exactly she’d ended up in this situation. After a moment, she shook her head and slinked off, clearly trying to recover whatever dignity she had left.

Three down.

I kept moving, blending into the grass as I searched for more members of the Pride. Each time I spotted one, I approached slowly, quietly, until I was close enough to pounce. And every time, I managed to get in a good scratch or pat before they realized what was happening.

A lion cub, lounging near a tree, was my next target. It looked up at me, eyes wide with curiosity, and I couldn’t help but give it a quick scratch behind the ears. It purred, blinking up at me with a look that said it didn’t mind the interruption at all.

Then came a cheetah who was watching from a rock, completely oblivious to my approach until I gave it a light pat on the side, startling it so much it nearly fell off. I held back a laugh as it stared at me, tail lashing as if offended that I’d managed to sneak up on it.

With each new encounter, I was becoming more comfortable, more attuned to the Pride’s movements. The initial tension faded, replaced by a quiet confidence.

By the time I’d ambushed nearly a dozen of them, word seemed to have spread. The remaining Pride members were watching me warily now, keeping their distance. I could see the faint glint of eyes in the tall grass, the flick of tails as they moved back.

As I straightened up, feeling rather pleased with myself, I caught sight of Chanua watching me from a distance. She was still visibly baffled, but there was a hint of something else there too—a flicker of respect.

“Alright, little cub,” she called, her tone begrudgingly approving. “Maybe you do have some fangs after all.”

I smirked, giving her a nod. “Does that mean I can pet you?”

Chanua shook her head, “Never again, cub!” though I could tell she was holding back a smile.