The shinobi who had attacked him had been a ragtag group, some still sporting slashed-through Kiri symbols and some seemingly having cast off village affiliations altogether. Sasuke had read the briefing -- it was his first major task as a Chuunin; he'd read the briefing front to back several times -- and he'd been aware of the existence of bloodline-racists. The reports had even indicated that shinobi visibly belonging to a bloodline had been attacked before, and he'd been advised to find clothing without the Uchiha crest on it, a task that had proved surprisingly difficult in the compound.

It seemed he'd been anticipated, however. He'd drawn a kunai when the misty wood around him had grown silent, but it hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough, new-minted Chuunin or not, when the attack had come from all directions.

And he hadn't been ready for the expressions of unadulterated hatred on the faces of the shinobi around him. That had been what had thrown him off-guard in the end, enough time for him to be wounded one arm, and then there had been multiple attacks coming at his face --

His eyes --

His hands scrabbling for a weapon, and then the men holding him down were crumpling with howls of agony, the woman closest to him collapsing as if her strings had been cut. For a second he couldn't understand how it had happened, but then he'd seen the newcomer. He was still staring when one of the smaller ninja who had been hanging back on a tree branch was dropping down at the woman's seemingly-unprotected back.

"Watch out -- !"