"It's Kurenai."
Ren swallowed the noodles in his mouth before turning toward her with a faint smile. "We've been doing well. We completed a B-rank mission a few days ago and only returned to the village yesterday."
"A B-rank mission?" Kurenai's crimson eyes widened with genuine admiration. "That's incredible! As expected of you, Ren. Our team only received a C-rank mission, and it was the simplest kind. Honestly, it was so boring that I nearly fell asleep."
She leaned a little closer, her curiosity immediately taking over. "What kind of mission did you do? Can you tell me about it?"
As they spoke, Asuma and Namiashi Raidō approached the counter. Asuma noticed how naturally Kurenai had taken the seat beside Ren. His lips tightened almost imperceptibly before he sat down on the opposite side of the bench.
Raidō either didn't notice the strange atmosphere or simply had no interest in getting involved. He calmly took the remaining seat and turned toward the kitchen.
"Boss, two bowls of tonkotsu ramen—one spicy and one regular—and one bowl of bamboo-shoot ramen."
"Coming right up!" Teuchi called from behind the counter.
While they waited for their food, Kurenai continued asking about Ren's former classmates and the recent experiences of Team Minato. Since they couldn't reveal confidential information about a B-rank mission in such a public place, Ren and Rin carefully limited their answers to details that wouldn't cause trouble.
Obito, however, had never been particularly skilled at restraint.
Whenever Rin mentioned an obstacle they had faced, Obito immediately interrupted to describe how bravely he had handled it. Whenever Ren casually acknowledged that Obito had performed well, the Uchiha's chest swelled another inch.
By the time Teuchi placed the new bowls on the counter, Obito had already transformed a difficult escort mission into a legendary tale in which he had apparently carried the entire team on his back.
"And then," Obito declared, gesturing dramatically with his chopsticks, "I saw through the enemy's plan immediately! If I hadn't reacted in time, things might have become really dangerous."
Rin gave him a helpless look. "Obito, you fell into the trap first."
"That was deliberate!" Obito snapped. "I was testing their defenses!"
Ren lowered his head and continued eating, deciding it was best not to interfere. Kurenai covered her mouth to hide a laugh, while Asuma rolled his eyes and focused on his ramen.
Then, without warning, Obito seemed to remember something.
The excitement on his face faded, replaced by unusual seriousness. He turned toward Asuma and lowered his chopsticks.
"Hey, Asuma. Can I ask you something?"
Asuma glanced up from his bowl. "What is it?"
"Do you know about Konoha's White Fang?"
The question brought the conversation to an abrupt halt.
Asuma stared at him. Kurenai's smile disappeared, and even Raidō paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. The cheerful atmosphere surrounding the counter seemed to drain away in an instant.
Obito blinked at their reactions.
"I only knew that he was an extremely powerful ninja," he continued more carefully. "Then, for some reason, he took his own life. I wanted to ask Minato-sensei about it before, but I never found the right opportunity."
He looked directly at Asuma.
"You're the Hokage's son, so you must know what really happened, right?"
For several seconds, Asuma said nothing.
His hand remained suspended above his bowl, chopsticks held motionless between his fingers. He studied Obito's face, perhaps trying to determine whether the question was some kind of tasteless joke. Once he realized Obito was genuinely asking, Asuma slowly lowered his hand.
"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I know."
Obito leaned forward, while Rin listened silently from beside Ren.
"The White Fang was one of Konoha's greatest heroes," Asuma began. "His reputation in the village was enormous. At his peak, his prestige was said to be nearly equal to that of the Sannin."
Obito's eyes widened.
Asuma's expression grew solemn as he continued. "His swordsmanship was legendary. Some people even claimed that he could rival the demigod of the Land of Rain."
The title alone carried immense weight.
Hanzō of the Salamander had stood at the summit of the ninja world for years. He was the man who had given Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru the title of Sannin after fighting all three of them at once. For the White Fang's swordsmanship to be compared to Hanzō's strength showed just how terrifying he had been.
"As for how he died…" Asuma paused, glancing down at the steam rising from his ramen. "It isn't exactly a secret. Most of the older shinobi know the story."
His next words came more slowly.
"A few years ago, the White Fang was leading an extremely important mission. Something went wrong, and his teammates were placed in mortal danger. He was forced to make a choice—complete the mission or abandon it to save them."
Obito's expression tightened.
"He chose his comrades," Asuma said. "He abandoned the mission and brought them home alive."
For the briefest moment, Obito seemed confused. To him, that choice sounded noble. It sounded like something a hero was supposed to do.
But Asuma hadn't finished.
"The mission failed because of his decision, and the village suffered tremendous losses. Once the news spread, people began blaming him. Shinobi criticized him. Civilians cursed him. The hero they had once praised became the man everyone held responsible for the village's suffering."
Asuma's gaze darkened.
"And even the companions whose lives he had saved eventually condemned him."
Rin's hand tightened around her chopsticks.
Obito sat completely still.
"In the end, the White Fang couldn't endure the pressure," Asuma said. "He took his own life at home. Kakashi probably became so cold and withdrawn around that time."
The father Kakashi had lost was not a disgraced coward, but a hero destroyed by the very village he had protected.
Asuma looked at Obito with a hint of disbelief. "You were in the same Academy class as Kakashi. How did you not know any of this?"
Ren knew the story, although his knowledge came from the anime he had watched in his previous life. For Rin and Obito, however, it was the first time they had heard the full truth.
They had only been six or seven years old when the tragedy occurred.
Rin's father had merely been a chunin, far removed from the village's upper circles. Obito had lost both his parents and lived alone with his grandmother. Neither of them had been close enough to the White Fang—or old enough—to understand the rumors spreading through Konoha at the time.
Obito, in particular, had never paid much attention to gossip.
Now, fragments of old memories flashed through his mind: Kakashi's lifeless eyes, his rigid obsession with regulations, and the anger that surfaced whenever Obito spoke about abandoning a mission to save a teammate.
Obito had always believed Kakashi was simply arrogant.
He had never considered what might have created that coldness.
The chopsticks slipped from Obito's fingers and struck the counter with a clatter. His eyes slowly reddened as he stared down at his unfinished ramen.
"So that's what happened," he murmured. "No wonder Kakashi is always…"
The rest of the sentence caught in his throat.
For all his recklessness and loudmouthed boasting, Obito possessed a powerful sense of empathy. Once he understood another person's pain, he found it almost impossible to ignore.
Perhaps this was the famous bond that seemed to unite the people of Konoha.
Or perhaps Obito was simply kinder than he liked to admit.
He suddenly pushed himself away from the counter and sprang to his feet so quickly that his stool nearly toppled over.
"I have to go!"
Rin looked up in alarm. "Go where?"
"I'm going to find Kakashi and apologize!"
Before anyone could stop him, Obito turned and raced out of the shop. The entrance curtain snapped violently in his wake, leaving everyone at the counter staring at the empty doorway.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Raidō slowly lowered his bowl. Asuma blinked twice, while Kurenai looked as though she wasn't sure whether to laugh or be concerned.
Rin was the first to recover. "Will he be all right?"
"Don't worry about him." Ren picked up another mouthful of noodles as though nothing unusual had happened. "Let's finish eating."
Rin hesitated, still gazing toward the entrance. After thinking about it, she gradually relaxed.
Obito and Kakashi argued almost every day. At worst, Obito's attempt to apologize would become another quarrel. If that happened, she and Ren could intervene later. Their relationship was already so strained that it was difficult to imagine one more argument making things any worse.
"By the way, Ren…"
Kurenai's voice pulled his attention back to the counter.
She hesitated for a moment, and when she spoke again, her tone was noticeably softer. "Are you free this afternoon? I've encountered a few problems with my combat techniques, and I'd like to ask for your advice. I feel like I've reached a bottleneck recently."
Ren hadn't yet answered when Rin abruptly raised her head.
"I want to come too!"
Her unusually quick response made everyone turn toward her. Rin's cheeks reddened slightly under their attention, but she didn't withdraw.
"I've been watching you train with Kakashi and Obito every day," she explained, looking directly at Ren. "The three of you keep improving so quickly that I feel like I can't keep pace anymore. If things continue like this, I'm afraid I'll become the one holding Team Minato back."
It wasn't false modesty.
Compared to Kakashi's natural genius, Obito's Uchiha bloodline, and Ren's system, Rin's presence in the team had indeed become increasingly subdued. Her talent in medical ninjutsu gave her a clear path forward, but being a medical ninja didn't mean she could ignore combat training.
A medic who couldn't protect herself would only become the enemy's first target.
At the very least, Rin needed enough strength to survive while treating her teammates.
Asuma coughed, drawing everyone's attention toward him. "In that case, I'd like to join you too."
Ren gave him a questioning look.
"I want another spar," Asuma admitted. "I recently learned one or two new ninjutsu, but I haven't found a suitable opponent to test them against."
Ren glanced around the counter and felt a strange sense of helplessness.
The moment Obito had left, everyone's attention had somehow shifted toward him. Kurenai wanted advice, Rin wanted combat training, and Asuma wanted a rematch.
There had originally been five people sitting together. Yet Raidō remained so quiet that Ren had nearly forgotten he was present.
How could one person possess so little presence?
Ren had planned to spend the afternoon testing the Death Mark, but it appeared those plans would have to wait.
He drained the last of his broth, placed the bowl on the counter, and wiped his mouth.
"All right. Training Ground Thirteen at three o'clock."
Kurenai smiled, while Asuma gave a satisfied nod.
Ren turned toward Rin. "I'm going home to take a nap first. Are you coming back too?"
"Of course!"
---
At three o'clock that afternoon, sunlight filtered through the towering trees surrounding Training Ground Thirteen. Countless rays broke through the leaves, scattering shifting patches of gold across the grass and packed earth.
The training ground was quiet except for the rustling canopy and the distant chirping of birds.
Ren, Rin, Kurenai, and Asuma arrived from different directions and gathered near the center of the field. Raidō had apparently decided not to come, preserving his remarkable ability to vanish from everyone's awareness.
Ren looked at the three people before him.
"Who wants to go first?"
A brief silence followed.
Kurenai glanced toward Asuma. When he made no move to volunteer, she took a steadying breath and stepped into the clearing.
"I'll go first."
Ren walked opposite her but made no attempt to draw a weapon. Instead, he stood empty-handed and crooked one finger in invitation.
"Come on."
Kurenai's brows drew together. "Aren't you going to use a weapon?"
"Not yet," Ren replied. "First, I want to see how much your taijutsu has improved since our last match."
Kurenai stared at him for a moment. His relaxed posture felt almost provocative, but there was no mockery in his expression.
"All right," she said, tightening her grip on a kunai. "Then don't blame me if you get hurt."
Her final word had barely left her mouth when her arm snapped forward.
Several shuriken tore through the air, their polished edges flashing beneath the afternoon sun. Rather than aiming directly at Ren, they spread across different angles, sealing off his easiest escape routes.
Ren shifted sideways.
That was the opening Kurenai had been waiting for.
The moment his weight moved, she disappeared in a burst of speed.
Leaves exploded from the ground behind her as she used the Body Flicker Technique to close the distance. Her figure reappeared at Ren's flank, and the kunai in her hand transformed into a silver streak aimed directly at his left shoulder.
The attack was fast, precise, and ruthless enough to resemble a real assassination attempt.
Ren twisted at the final instant. The kunai slipped past his clothes by a hair's breadth, its cold edge close enough for him to feel the air it displaced.
His left hand shot toward Kurenai's wrist.
"Too slow!"
Kurenai sharply rotated her hand, turning the failed thrust into a downward slash aimed at Ren's exposed fingers. The transition was smooth, with no wasted movement.
Ren immediately abandoned the grab.
His palm changed direction and struck the outside of Kurenai's forearm with a crisp slap.
He hadn't used his full strength, but the impact still sent a painful numbness from her wrist to her elbow. Kurenai's fingers nearly lost their grip on the kunai.
She reacted without hesitation.
Pushing off the ground, she leaped backward and opened several meters of distance between them. Her sandals scraped over the dirt as she landed, eyes fixed warily on Ren.
Rin watched from the edge of the field with her hands clasped before her chest. Asuma's expression had also grown serious.
Kurenai's taijutsu was genuinely impressive.
Her movements were light, agile, and swift. Instead of relying on brute force, she attacked with precision, using shuriken and kunai to threaten joints, tendons, and vital points. Every movement was designed to force a reaction that could be exploited by the next attack.
That talent was why, in Ren's previous life, Kurenai had eventually received such a high taijutsu rating in the official records.
Even during her brief confrontation with Itachi Uchiha, her adaptability had never been the true problem. She had been suppressed because the gap in their physical abilities was simply too large. Without a powerful bloodline, her raw strength couldn't withstand Itachi's attacks, no matter how quickly she reacted.
The situation before Ren was similar.
Kurenai was fast and technically skilled, but Ren remained calm and stable. Most of the time, he merely defended, redirecting her attacks with minimal movement. Yet whenever he took a single step forward, the pressure forced her to retreat or scramble to reorganize her stance.
The difference between them was already painfully obvious.
Before obtaining the system, Ren's taijutsu had only been slightly better than Kurenai's. Now, even while holding back and fighting without a weapon, he could control the rhythm of the entire battle.
There was nothing unfair about it.
He had been given an extraordinary advantage. If his strength were still comparable to Kurenai's after receiving the system, then the system might as well have never appeared.
Across the clearing, Kurenai tightened her grip on her kunai until the numbness in her arm began to fade. Ren still hadn't changed his relaxed stance.
He hadn't drawn a weapon.
He hadn't used ninjutsu.
And he hadn't even begun to fight seriously.
Kurenai drew a slow breath, lowered her center of gravity, and prepared to attack again.
The real spar was only just beginning.