Raizen sat quietly by the riverbank, the water flowing lazily over smooth stones, the silence almost indulgent. Half a month had passed since he had beheaded Ueshi Tokusei, and these days were for training, sharpening chakra, and letting his mind rest for a moment. Time here moved differently—slowly, painfully, like a low-level grinding session in an endless game.
He tapped the flat stone beside him, eyes narrowing as a memory surfaced. "Ah… haven't done this in ages," he muttered. Back on Earth, he used to skip stones across ponds like a pro. On a whim, he bent down, picked up the flat rock, aimed, and sent it skimming across the water.
Flap! Flap! Flap!
The stone bounced three times before plunging into the river. He frowned. "Three skips? Seriously? Back then I could get eight or nine."
Raizen shook his head, muttering, "Technology has definitely regressed."
He was still grumbling when a sudden splash startled him. Before he could fully turn, another stone shot through the air, bouncing across the water twice before sinking.
"So that's how it's done," he said with a grin, turning to look for the culprit.
Standing there, cheeks flushed from exertion, was a boy of about nine with a spiky hairdo—hedgehog-like in style. Raizen squinted, something tugging at his memory. "Are you… Madara?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.
The boy's initial annoyance melted as recognition dawned. "Ah… long time no see, Raizen!"
Raizen chuckled. "Not bad just now. You got two skips."
The boy, puffing out his chest, huffed. "I wasn't careful! Next time, I'll beat you for sure!" He bent down, grabbed another stone, and threw it—slap!—it sank immediately.
Raizen laughed outright at the boy's misfire. Red-faced, Madara shot him a glare and shouted, grabbing yet another stone. Slap… slap… The flat rock danced across the water four or five times, finally snapping onto the opposite bank.
Both Raizen and Madara turned toward the forest, eyes narrowing. From the shadows emerged a teenager, stooped slightly, a faint grin on his face. His light green tunic fluttered in the breeze, triangular scarf knotted neatly around his neck, and—most notably—a watermelon-shaped headpiece perched atop him. With one fluid motion, he had sent a stone sailing across the river effortlessly.
"When skipping stones, all you need is a slight flick, and the rock will carry itself to the other shore," the boy said, smiling brilliantly, that easy confidence radiating like chakra.
Madara scowled, her irritation clear. "Do you really think we need lessons from you?"
The watermelon-headed boy chuckled. "Oh, I think I count as your opponent now. That one landed perfectly on the other side, didn't it?"
Madara's face twisted in indignation, and before she could retort, Raizen stood, squinting at the boy with amusement. "Long time no see… Hashirama!"