Evening in Konoha brought an unusual buzz to the streets and taverns.
"You missed it today, man. Big mistake!" A red-faced villager slapped his friend's shoulder, spitting as he talked. "That samurai from the Land of Iron? Guy's the real deal. Bit rough around the edges, sure, but he took down Jonin Makoto and Jonin Hizashi like it was nothing!"
"No way. Those two?" His friend nearly dropped his cup.
"Damn right. But the best part came later." The villager's eyes lit up. "Our boy Shinichi stepped up. Higashino Shinichi. You should've seen it—he went toe-to-toe with that monster. Sword snapped clean in half, then bam, he just waved his hand and the whole damn field turned into a sea of fire. No hand seals. Nothing."
He took a long swig, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. "Then came the real kicker. He dropped this blazing red sun of a Rasengan straight on the guy. The samurai went full bronze statue just to survive it. And after all that? The bastard actually clapped. Told the whole stadium Shinichi was a once-in-a-generation genius. Said he wanted to call him the strongest. Made a promise to settle it for real once they're both at the top of their worlds."
"The strongest? Kid's only ten!" his friend sucked in a breath.
"Future strongest in the shinobi world. With talent like that? He's gonna run this era."
Conversations like that rippled through every corner of the village, thick with pride, excitement, and raw disbelief.
Inside the Hokage's office the lights burned bright.
A mission desk staffer stood before the Third, finishing his report.
"Lord Third, the client Mr. Isshin settled the full payment at the desk. He said the exchange was worth every ryo. On top of the base five hundred thousand, he added the maximum bonus—two million more. Total two and a half million ryo. It's all been logged."
Hiruzen Sarutobi nodded from behind his desk, a small, satisfied smile on his face. "Good. The whole thing got messy, but it worked out in the end."
He tapped his fingers once, thinking. "Since Shinichi fought the final match and earned the client's respect, credit the entire special mission to him. Record and payout both go under his name."
"Understood, Lord Third. I'll handle it right away."
The staffer hesitated, an odd look crossing his face.
"Also… before he left, Mr. Isshin asked a question."
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. "What kind of question?"
The man cleared his throat. "He asked if Konoha would need mercenaries once the war starts. Said he'd be willing to fight for us. Price negotiable."
Hiruzen blinked, then let out a short, amused breath. Mercenaries? Usually villages hired people. Not the other way around.
He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment, then gave his answer.
"Tell him we appreciate the offer and the generous payment. As for mercenaries… Konoha has always relied on its own shinobi. We're confident we can handle whatever comes. Also remind him the Land of Iron is a neutral country. A famous samurai signing on with one of the Great Villages could cause complications for both sides. We'll pass on the kind offer."
The staffer bowed. "Yes, Lord Third. I'll deliver the message exactly."
After the man left, the office fell quiet again. Hiruzen rubbed his temples, then spoke to the empty air.
"You two. Keep an eye on Root. Make sure nothing unnecessary happens these next few days."
Two soft acknowledgments came from the shadows. Then nothing.
Hiruzen sighed. Hopefully it was just paranoia.
Isshin didn't know about the quiet orders. Wouldn't have cared if he did.
Right now he was at Ajino Takumi, working through massive plates of grilled meat and Shinichi's signature mapo tofu like a man who hadn't eaten in days. He ignored the mix of fear and awe on the other customers' faces.
When he was done he dropped a few bills on the table, shouldered his massive halberd, and walked out under the owner's nervous goodbye.
The streets were lit up. Cool night air brushed past.
His tall frame and the huge weapon made people step aside without being asked. Whispers followed him.
"That's him…"
"Shh. Keep it down."
Isshin didn't slow down. He just kept walking, long strides eating up the road toward the main gate. His face stayed relaxed, almost lazy, like he hadn't just turned the entire village upside down and made a promise to fight the strongest again someday.
Root? Danzo?
Bunch of little punks.
They could go cry to his summoning contract.
He looked like an easy target walking out alone, but the exit strategy had been ready for days.
Two nights ago, back in the forest with the main body, everything had been set. The summoning contract was signed. Two shadow clones had already been sent northwest, one of them carrying a vial of the main body's blood.
Timing was perfect. The moment he cleared the gate and put enough distance between himself and the village, the main body would dispel one clone. The other clone near Kusagakure would get the message instantly.
Then it would use the blood to reverse-summon him straight out of Konoha's reach.
Simple. Clean. Foolproof.
The great gates of Konoha loomed ahead. The guards gave him complicated looks but checked his papers and let him through without a word.
Isshin glanced back once at the glowing village and the distant Hokage Rock. A small, satisfied smirk tugged at his mouth.
Then he turned and walked into the dark.
The guards watched him disappear around the bend and quietly exhaled.
Good riddance.
Half an hour later, deep in a forest on the edge of the Land of Grass, white smoke burst and faded.
Isshin stood there, halberd resting on his shoulder, looking back toward Konoha with a grin.
Mission complete.
The shadow clone that had cast the summoning jutsu gave its final report and popped out of existence.
Isshin absorbed the memories and chuckled.
Interesting.
Thirty minutes after that, the same forest edge looked like a war zone.
Trees lay snapped at the roots. The road was torn up. Seven Kusagakure corpses were scattered across the wreckage—clean kills, mostly. Crushed skulls, bisected bodies, one poor bastard smashed flat by raw strength.
Isshin sat on a clean rock, halberd stabbed into the dirt beside him, still wet with fresh blood.
In front of him stood a young couple, red hair bright even in the dark. They clung to each other, shaking.
The man was lean, wearing round black glasses, looking bookish and pale. The woman had the same striking red hair and ruby eyes. Both looked maybe twenty.
"Thanks… thank you for saving us," the man said, voice still shaky. He bowed deeply, pulling his wife down with him.
Isshin studied their red hair and the woman's healing ability he'd just witnessed. He already had a pretty good guess who they were.
"Grass ninjas wanted you two pretty bad," he said. "Why?"
The couple exchanged a look. After a moment the man answered honestly.
"We're survivors of the Uzumaki clan. I'm Uzumaki Dōsaku. This is my wife, Uzumaki Kaede. After our country fell we wandered for years and finally settled here in the Land of Grass. We opened a small clinic. Everything was quiet until a few days ago."
He explained how a dying Kusa ninja had been brought to them. Kaede had used her ability to save him. The man reported it. Now Kusa wanted to take them—especially her—by force.
Isshin nodded. Figured.
"So what are you gonna do now?"
The couple looked at each other, lost.
They couldn't stay. Wandering again was dangerous. Especially with her ability drawing attention.
Isshin stood up, shouldered the halberd, and started walking into the trees without looking back.
"Nowhere to go? Then follow me. Up to you."
His steps didn't slow.
Dōsaku and Kaede stared after him, then at each other.
Stay and risk everything?
Or trust the terrifying warrior who had just saved their lives?
Dōsaku tightened his grip on his wife's hand.
"We're going with him, Kaede."
She nodded, fear still in her eyes but resolve settling in.
Together they hurried after the tall figure disappearing into the forest.