The duel ended.
Kyosuke walked up to Obito, looking down at the boy's devastated, humiliated expression. He bent down and extended his right hand, making half of the Seal of Reconciliation.
Since Kyosuke's ultimate goal was to be noticed and groomed by the village higher-ups, his character and temperament were just as important as his talent. Therefore, he behaved perfectly, showing no signs of mockery or arrogance.
Besides, it was just a schoolyard fight between kids. Kyosuke wasn't about to get cocky just because he beat up a six-year-old.
"Damn it! I will definitely defeat you in the future!"
Obito stared at Kyosuke's extended hand, his expression twisting constantly between anger and shame. His tone was utterly indignant, but after a moment of hesitation, he reached out and completed the Seal of Reconciliation.
Their fingers locked together. Thinking of the reality-bending power of Obito's future Mangekyo Sharingan, Kyosuke sincerely agreed with his words. "I have a feeling you're going to become a ninja who shocks the entire world."
"Hmph! I don't need your hypocrisy!"
Despite his harsh words, being praised by the guy who just beat him made Obito feel a little better. He pouted stubbornly, ripped his hand away, and stormed off the playground, trying his best to look disdainful.
The entire exchange was witnessed by the teachers in the windows and the parents in the crowd. Although the physical strength Kyosuke displayed was nothing extraordinary, his incredibly calm combat mindset and humble, forgiving nature made them look at him in a new light. He seemed like a highly reliable companion.
If he didn't die young, he would surely grow into a remarkable shinobi.
The crowd finally dispersed. Guy was ecstatic about the victory and dragged Kyosuke back to his house for a celebratory dinner, an offer Kyosuke naturally didn't refuse.
Later that night, when sleep finally took him, Kyosuke entered the Dream Space and shared the events of his first day at the Academy. The others immediately began analyzing the situation.
Tasaka Sensuke, who understood the inner workings of hidden villages the best, strongly approved of Kyosuke's actions.
"Not bad at all. Above-average talent, a calm personality, and a clear respect for the rules—these are the exact traits the village higher-ups look for in a subordinate. If you act like an uncontrollable maverick, management will despise you. Even if you're strong, they'll just intentionally use you as cannon fodder on the front lines."
Kiichiro, however, offered a grim warning. "Be careful, Kyosuke. Konoha's leadership isn't just the Third Hokage. They also have Danzo Shimura. You absolutely do not want to be noticed by him."
Mishu crossed his arms and snorted coldly. "There's no such thing as a perfect, risk-free plan in this world. Instead of being an unknown meat shield, it's better to show off and gamble for power. If you die, at least you die swinging."
"Speaking of dying... why hasn't Shin arrived yet?" Kyosuke asked, looking around the misty space. "Could he be in danger?"
The others fell silent, a collective knot of worry tightening in their chests. Shin had never been this late.
But trapped in the Dream Space, they were entirely helpless. All they could do was pray that the harshest life among them hadn't just been extinguished.
In a dilapidated, abandoned village in the Land of Rain, Ooka Shin lay buried beneath a pile of rubble and trash, desperately holding his breath to conceal his presence.
Just at dusk, he had accidentally crossed paths with two Rogue Ninjas and had been hunted ever since.
From a brief glimpse of a scratched-out headband, Shin knew his pursuers were missing-nin from Kusagakure—the Village Hidden in the Grass.
The Land of Rain was a miserable meat grinder sandwiched between the Land of Earth, the Land of Wind, and the Land of Fire. Its strategic location was too important to ignore, so every major country constantly funded proxy wars and rebel factions within its borders. The resulting chaos made it a haven for violent Rogue Ninjas looking for easy prey.
Shin knew exactly what these men wanted. They wanted to capture a healthy war orphan to sell into slavery, or worse, harvest his organs for the black market.
Cold, relentless rain poured from the pitch-black sky, soaking the ruined village. Shin was buried in freezing mud. His muscles screamed in protest, but he didn't dare make the slightest movement.
Through the dense curtain of rain, his vision was severely restricted. He could only make out a single gray silhouette slowly stalking through the ruins.
Is that a clone? Or the original? Are they using it as bait to flush me out?
Shin's mind raced. Real shinobi were full of tricks and used every dirty tactic available in battle. He had to consider every angle. He needed to find the perfect opening to strike without falling into a fatal trap.
Dirty rainwater seeped into his eyes, burning fiercely, but Shin didn't dare lift a hand to wipe them. He kept his eyes blown wide open, terrified that blinking would cost him his life.
"Yo, kid! You're pretty good at hiding!" a raspy voice echoed through the ruins. "You've made me stand out in the rain for an hour. When I finally find you, I'll make you beg for death!"
The Rogue Ninja irritably wiped the rain from his face. Gripping a wickedly sharp short sword, he slowly advanced toward Shin's pile of rubble.
Damn it, Shin cursed internally. If I just had a little money to buy some explosive tags or ninja wire, I wouldn't be stuck playing defense like this!
Even though the five of them shared the physical gains of their training, they were still fundamentally six-year-old children. Their bodies hadn't fully developed, and none of them had real combat experience against adult shinobi. Shin genuinely didn't know if he could survive this.
"Found you!"
The Rogue Ninja suddenly snapped his head toward Shin's exact position. His eyes gleamed with a terrifying, bloodthirsty light.
Shin's heart stopped. He felt like he had just been locked onto by a savage beast. Panic overrode his logic, and he exploded out of his hiding spot.
The trash and debris flew everywhere as Shin turned and sprinted blindly into the rain.
"Heh. A kid is still just a kid," the Rogue Ninja chuckled. "Couldn't even hold out against a simple bluff."
The man casually flicked the rainwater off his short sword and followed Shin at a leisurely, mocking pace.
"The rain will sap his body heat soon enough. A starving brat running frantically through the mud won't have much stamina anyway. This is the perfect time for a game of cat and mouse."
Because they lived in a constant state of life-and-death paranoia, many Rogue Ninjas developed deeply twisted personalities. This one clearly enjoyed the psychological torture of the hunt.
Sure enough, after ten agonizing minutes of sprinting, Shin's speed drastically dropped. Gasping for air, he stumbled on a slick piece of rubble and collapsed hard into a muddy puddle.
"Tsk, tsk. The slave trade hasn't been paying well lately, so I'll just have to part you out for organs," the Rogue Ninja sneered, coming to a stop just behind Shin. He watched the boy desperately try to crawl away on his hands and knees.
Grinning maliciously, the rogue raised his blade, aiming perfectly for the back of Shin's right thigh. "Nobody buys limbs anyway, so there's no need to keep them attached!"
He thrust the sword down.
Poof!
The blade pierced the boy, but there was no sickening resistance of flesh and bone. The crawling child instantly dispersed into a faint cloud of white smoke.
The Rogue Ninja's eyes widened in sheer horror. A clone?!
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
From the shadows of a nearby collapsed roof, the real Ooka Shin, who had been waiting in ambush this entire time, expelled a massive breath of Chakra.
A violent gale erupted from his mouth, sweeping up the torrential rain and slamming it directly into the Rogue Ninja. The pressurized water lashed against the man's face like a whip, forcing his eyes shut. The wind was so strong he lost his footing, blindly jumping backward to escape the blast zone.
Shin didn't hesitate. Gripping a rusted dagger he'd scavenged weeks ago, he launched himself from the roof.
The Rogue Ninja managed to open his eyes just as a small figure plummeted toward him. Panicking, he swung his short sword in a desperate arc, slashing the figure clean in half.
Poof!
Another clone.
Before the rogue could even process the trick, the real Shin slid out from his blind spot. With a feral scream, Shin drove his rusted dagger directly between the man's ribs, burying it to the hilt, before immediately rolling backward to dodge a wild counter-slash.
"Gah! Damn it!" The Rogue Ninja stumbled back, his face twisted in agony. He gripped his sword with one hand and clutched his bleeding side with the other, glaring at the boy across the rain-slicked street. "I didn't expect a rat like you to know Ninjutsu! You got lucky!"
Thick, dark blood continuously flowed from between the man's fingers, washing away in the heavy rain.
After a few tense seconds of a standoff, the Rogue Ninja's legs buckled. He let out a wet, rattling gasp and collapsed face-first into the mud.
Standing at a safe distance, Shin watched the fallen body in absolute silence. He didn't turn to run, nor did he cautiously approach. He simply stood in the freezing rain and waited.
If the Rogue Ninja was dead, waiting a few extra minutes wouldn't hurt.
If the Rogue Ninja was faking it, Shin would simply wait until he bled out. He was absolutely certain he had slipped his blade between the ribs and punctured a lung or an artery; the man was going to die sooner or later.
The reason Shin didn't immediately flee into the night was simple: he had his eyes on the dead man's short sword.
In the brutal slums of the Land of Rain, a high-quality steel weapon was a lifeline. He could use it for self-defense, or at the very least, trade it for enough food to survive the week.
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