Chapter 13: How to Start a Gang and Lose at Othello
(From the Journal of Naruto Uzumaki, Future Local Gang Lord and Possible Othello Champion)
You know those days where everything seems fine—like birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and your friend hasn't accidentally told you about underground crime syndicates that could erase your existence like you're an embarrassing search history? Yeah. That was not today.
"Issei, you need to be careful about that. Don't you know how scary the Yakuza can be?" Kenichi said in his super-serious voice. The one he uses when he's about to drop terrifying facts like a horror podcast. "They're hidden in plain sight. They're in politics, real estate, media—probably your dentist too. They could make you disappear and turn your funeral into a sushi party."
I blinked. "...Okay, first, that's not helping my anxiety. Second, you have way too much information on this."
Turns out, Kenichi's room was basically a conspiracy theorist's paradise. Books, files, probably a hidden drawer of tinfoil hats. I'd asked one innocent question about gangs and now I knew five different ways to make someone vanish—none of which I ever wanted to test. Ever.
He was even ordering more books. Because I showed interest. What kind of nerdy madness had I unleashed?
I tried to listen—really, I did—but halfway through a tragic story about a ramen shop guy who got on the wrong side of the mob (which, honestly, sounded suspiciously like a movie plot), my brain checked out and started spiraling.
I wasn't scared for myself. I mean, if I had my old body—chakra-filled, frog-summoning self—this would've been a Tuesday. But now I was stuck in a teenage body that came with aches, homework, and a depressing limit to how high I could jump.
And most of all, I was scared for them.
Kenichi. Honoka. The dojo folks. This weird little slice of life I'd found in this world.
I couldn't let anything happen to them.
That's when my eyes drifted to the poster on Kenichi's wall. Right between Shaolin Training for Kids and How to Build Confidence Without Getting Punched was a poster of Hitman Reborn.
A mafia anime.
Something clicked. Something... beautifully stupid.
"I can make my own gang," I whispered like some Disney villain just realizing he had a magic lamp. "And conquer this area. If I rule it, nothing can hurt them."
Yes. That was it. I'd be a boss. I'd protect them the only way I knew how.
With overwhelming force, charisma, and possibly matching jackets.
"Issei, what are you thinking?" Kenichi asked with the wary tone of someone who had seen me think before and regretted it deeply.
I turned to him with what I assumed was a calm, thoughtful smile but might have looked like the Joker auditioning for a rom-com.
"Nothing much. Just that we should get more friends, so we can have more fun and play more games."
Translation: Recruitment begins tomorrow. Bring snacks.
Before Kenichi could interrogate me further, his little sister Honoka burst into the room like a sugar-powered missile. "Big brother! Let's play!"
She hopped onto the bed with zero concern for personal space or impending gang wars. Honestly? She was adorable. Tiny, energetic, and already smarter than both of us combined.
She was like the little sister I never had. (No offense, Hanabi. You're great too. But Honoka doesn't punch my solar plexus when she loses.)
"Come, you demon," I said, striking my most heroic pose. "Today, I shall vanquish you in Othello!"
"Oh hero," she said with a dramatic gasp, "you shall know defeat once again!"
She dove onto the bed like a true warrior.
Kenichi sat at the edge of the chaos, smiling. "I'm next."
We played. We laughed. I lost, twice, and maybe pretended I let her win. (I didn't.)
And for a little while, I forgot about gangs, Yakuza, or dangerous decisions.
Just three people, a board game, and a whole lot of yelling about black and white discs.
Kenichi watched us like he was studying a strange new species. Maybe he was. After all, I wasn't normal. I was Naruto Uzumaki.
And I was going to protect this new life.
Even if I had to become the king of delinquents to do it.
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Some conversations start normal. Like, "Hey, what's for dinner?" or "Do you think sensei will notice if I skip training for a week?"
This was not one of those conversations.
We were perched on a tree branch—because apparently sitting on actual chairs is too mainstream for us. The breeze was cool, the view was solid, and nothing had exploded in the past ten minutes. A miracle, really.
That's when Issei, who was sitting beside me like a wise old squirrel, said:
"So you're telling me, I might be a Don when I come back home?"
I tilted my head. "Yeah?"
"Damn, bro, that's so lit! I never even thought of that! I'm gonna walk into my school like, 'Yo, bow before your boss!'" He jumped up like a kid who just found out his favorite anime was getting a sequel. "Now I can act like a boss!"
I had to laugh. The guy was basically vibrating with excitement. Like someone had plugged him into a chakra battery and then given him a double shot of espresso.
"Thanks," I said with a smile. "I'll try not to get in trouble while you're living your Don fantasy."
"No problem, bro! You gave me this amazing body—now I gotta aim for something big. I mean, how can I not?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Like what? You gonna open a ramen empire?"
"Pfft. Bigger." He crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. "I'll become the emperor of the continent before we switch back!"
I blinked. "You sure about that?"
"One hundred percent! With this body? Dude, the only limit is imagination. I can feel it—my training's already getting insane. Shadow clones, healing factor, ridiculous chakra reserves? I'm basically a cheat code wrapped in blond hair."
He was flexing now. Not in a "look at my muscles" way, more like "witness the glory of this cosmic gift" way. Honestly? He was kind of adorable when he got this hyped.
"Bro, you have no idea how much this body levels up. It's like, in the time it takes you to finish a bowl of ramen, I've already learned three new jutsus. One day's work feels like months if I use shadow clones right!"
I whistled. "Wow. That's actually impressive."
"Right? Like, I'm doing months' worth of training every day. I'll be able to punch mountains by the time I'm seventeen!"
He was practically glowing with self-confidence. Or chakra. Possibly both.
But I had to ground him a little.
"Calm down, Issei. Don't let it get to your head. There are people out there who'll actually kill you if you go showing off like some overpowered anime protagonist."
He shrugged. "I know, I know. I won't go full shonen. But this place… this little break from the madness? It's the first time I've felt really free."
And I got that. I really did.
Back in our world, things were always life-or-death. Wars, demons, world-ending threats. Here, things were simpler. There were no tailed beasts rampaging across villages. Just friends, games, weird conversations in trees, and dreams of mafia glory.
We sat in silence for a moment, the kind of comfortable silence where you don't need to fill the air with words.
Then Issei added with a grin:
"Also, I've decided our gang needs a name. Something cool. Something dangerous."
I gave him a sideways look. "Like... what? Shadow Storm? Ramen Raiders?"
"No, no! That's too food-themed. How about... The Nine Blades? Sounds edgy, right?"
I groaned. "Bro, if we go with that, people are gonna think we're cosplayers who got lost on the way to a convention."
"Okay, okay, work in progress. But I am getting jackets. That's non-negotiable."
I snorted. "Fine. But mine better have a fox logo."
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Sometimes, you just want a peaceful afternoon. Sit on a tree, talk about dreams, maybe throw in a few anime references. But nope. That's not how Uzumaki Naruto and Issei "Let's Get Serious" Hyoudou operate.
It started with a single line. Harmless enough.
"Hmm… I guess so. Wanna fight?" I said, jumping back with a grin.
And just like that, the bromance turned into a battleground.
Issei cracked his knuckles and his neck with an exaggerated, villain-level growl.
"Bro, let me apologize in advance—but you will be tasting the dust once we're through!"
The dramatic energy was strong with this one.
I laughed. "Issei, I've been doing this kind of fighting since before you were stealing glances at Rias's thighs. A week of shadow clone training doesn't make you a taijutsu master."
He didn't reply. Just grinned like a madman and took a stance. I could respect that.
Since we were in the dream world—our personal training ground with no death, no rules, and a lot of yelling—holding back was pointless. The stats were equal. The pain was real. And the healing was instant. So why not break a few bones?
I dashed forward, low to the ground like a chakra-powered baseball slide. My move caught him off-guard—he was expecting something flashier, probably a Rasengan to the face. Instead, I slipped under his defenses, grabbed his leg mid-fall, and twisted.
"AGH—FUCK!" Issei bit his tongue and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
I didn't let up. I vaulted up the tree, launched off a higher branch, and came down like a thunder immortal with my knee pointed squarely at his back.
CANNON STRIKE!!
It sounded better in my head. Still, his spine made a crack that echoed through the woods. Issei groaned and flopped like a broken marionette.
"You okay down there?" I asked, already walking away.
No answer. I assumed that meant he was just catching his breath… or blacked out for a few seconds.
While he rebooted, I got to work. I summoned a single clone and held out my hand.
The Rasengan spun to life, but…
"Still need two clones to stabilize it," I muttered. "Tch. Not good enough."
I tossed the ball of chakra. It whomped into the ground and exploded like a chakra grenade. Satisfying? Sure.
"But not cool enough," I said, squinting at the smoke cloud. "I want to shoot it. Like—" I made finger guns. "Pew pew. Beam. Laser. Ki blast. Something flashy."
I focused, imagining a gun firing a bullet. Tried to push the chakra through my palm like it was a barrel. But my chakra—stupidly massive as it was—refused to play along. Instead of shooting, it puffed. Like a party balloon letting out air.
"Seriously?!" I growled. "Why is chakra like this?!"
And then… WHAM!
A punch slammed into my face and launched me into a bush like a ragdoll.
"Wha—?!"
I rolled to my feet and looked up. Issei was grinning. His arm… stretched. Like a certain rubbery pirate.
"HOW did you—?!"
"Beat me again and I'll tell you," he said smugly. Then—WHOMP—his arm extended again and I barely jumped back in time.
"Oh, you're gonna regret that."
"Don't care!" he shouted, arms swinging like helicopter blades. "Gomu Gomu Barrage!!"
I barely dodged as fists rained down like meteorites.
"STOP COPYING ANIME POWERS!" I yelled, hiding behind a tree.
"NEVER!!"