Naruto looked at him.
Something was moving in those blue eyes.
He thought of himself.
Ever since he was a child, the people in the Village called him a monster. No one wanted to get close to him. No one wanted to talk to him.
But he still wanted to protect this Village.
Why?
Because Iruka-sensei was good to him. Because Sandaime-jiji was good to him. Because there were people here he wanted to protect.
"I understand," Naruto said.
Nobunaga looked at him.
"What do you understand?"
Naruto grinned.
"That Neji guy, he doesn't really hate. He just has no choice. No choice but to change, no way to resist, no way to—"
He paused.
"No way to do whatever he wants, like we do."
He looked at Nobunaga.
"You're right, he needs someone to pull him out of that shell."
Nobunaga didn't speak.
Naruto turned and walked toward the arena.
After two steps, he stopped.
He didn't look back.
"Nobunaga."
"Yeah."
"Even though I don't like that he attacked Hinata, you're right, this guy isn't a bad person."
He paused.
"I'll help him."
He continued walking forward.
Walking into the sunlight, onto the arena, and into everyone's gaze.
Nobunaga stood where he was, watching that golden figure from behind.
The second match was Nobunaga versus Ryoko.
"Nobunaga of Konoha Village, versus—"
The proctor's voice echoed across the arena.
"Mizukage Ryoko of the Hidden Mist Village."
A slight commotion broke out in the crowd. The name of the Hidden Mist Village wasn't unfamiliar in Konoha, but not many people had actually seen a Mist Ninja fight.
Many people craned their necks to look at the arena, wanting to see what kind of skills this Ninja from the 'Village Hidden in the Bloody Mist' actually had.
Nobunaga stood up and walked toward the arena.
He didn't walk fast. Every step was steady.
When he reached the edge of the arena, he stopped for a moment.
He looked up at the stands.
Three people were sitting there.
The Third Hokage sat in the very center, puffing on his pipe with a gentle smile on his face. The sunlight fell on him, clearly illuminating the wrinkles on his face. His gaze fell on Nobunaga with a hint of scrutiny and a bit of curiosity.
Sitting next to him was the 'Kazekage'—the Fourth Kazekage from the Hidden Sand Village.
But Nobunaga knew who was hidden beneath that face. Orochimaru.
One of the Sannin, an S-rank rogue ninja. At this moment, he was smiling as he watched the arena, his snake-like pupils narrowing slightly in the sunlight as if he were sizing up some interesting prey.
And next to him.
Mei Terumī sat there.
She wore the formal robes of the Mizukage, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, and her emerald eyes like two deep pools.
Sunlight streamed down from the skylight, bathing her and casting a faint golden glow around her entire being.
She just sat there, her posture elegant and her expression calm.
But those eyes were looking at him.
Nobunaga met her gaze for a second.
Then he withdrew his gaze and stepped onto the arena.
On the arena, Ryoko was already standing there.
She was wearing the standard Mist flak jacket, her dark blue short hair shimmering in the sunlight.
A ninja sword hung at her waist, its scabbard black and the hilt wrapped in white bandages.
Seeing Nobunaga walk up, she smiled.
That smile was very sweet. So sweet it made one's skin crawl.
"Nobunaga," she said.
No '-kun'. No feigned politeness. Just those two simple words.
Nobunaga didn't speak.
Ryoko reached out and drew her ninja sword from her waist.
The blade glinted coldly in the sunlight. The blade was slender, the tip sharp, and the bandages on the hilt were wrapped neatly.
It was a very standard Mist-style ninja sword.
But if one looked closely, they would find that this sword was slightly different from ordinary Mist swords.
The curvature of the blade, the angle of the tip, the shape of the tsuba—
"Does this sword look familiar?" Ryoko asked.
Nobunaga looked at the sword.
Of course it looked familiar.
It was exactly the same as the one he had thrust into Mei Terumī's heart on that wedding day in the dream simulation.
He reached out and also drew his own ninja sword from his waist.
The blade also glinted coldly in the sunlight.
A similarly slender blade, a similarly sharp angle, a similarly shaped tsuba.
The two swords reflected each other in the sunlight.
"It's the same style as the one back then," Nobunaga said.
His voice was very calm. So calm it was as if he were talking about something very ordinary.
"I know whatever I say now is useless," he continued, "but I still want to tell you—"
"I don't want to hear it!"
Ryoko rushed forward.
Fast.
Very fast.
A flash of sword light aimed straight for Nobunaga's throat.
Nobunaga sidestepped to let it pass, his ninja sword blocking horizontally.
The two swords clashed in mid-air, producing a crisp metallic sound.
Sparks flew.
Ryoko didn't stop. The first strike was blocked, and the second was already coming down. The third, the fourth, the fifth.
The sword light was like snow, dense and impenetrable.
Nobunaga blocked them one by one.
Stepping back, he evaded a horizontal sweep. Raising his sword, he parried a downward slash. Twisting his waist to the side, he dodged a thrust.
The two of them were locked in a struggle on the arena, a blur of sword light and shadows that left everyone dazzled.
On the sidelines, the spectators watched without blinking.
"So fast!" someone exclaimed.
"Is this really the level of a Genin?"
"Are all Mist Ninjas this strong?"
Naruto stood on the sidelines, his eyes wide.
"These two... are amazing!"
Sakura was also watching, her brow slightly furrowed. She didn't understand sword techniques, but she could feel the pressure.
Every collision between those two on the arena felt as if they were trying to tear each other apart.
Sasuke leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowed.
He stared at every move Nobunaga made, and every strike Ryoko launched.
There was a light flashing in those dark eyes, as if he were calculating something.
"Interesting," he whispered.
But someone saw something different.
Shikamaru leaned on the edge of the crowd, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the arena.
His brow was slightly furrowed.
"Strange..." he muttered.
Choji, who was eating potato chips next to him, heard his words and looked up.
"What's strange?"
Shikamaru didn't speak.
He just watched.
Watching Nobunaga's sword. Watching Ryoko's sword.
Those movements—
They were too fast, so fast that ordinary people couldn't see them clearly at all. But Shikamaru's mind worked fast; he could see.
He saw Nobunaga slash out, and Ryoko block with an almost identical angle.
He saw Ryoko thrust her sword, and Nobunaga sidestep to dodge with an almost identical posture.
He saw both of them retreat at the same time, sheath their swords at the same time, and rush forward again at the same time.
Those movements looked like they had been taught by the same person.
"Their swordsmanship..." Shikamaru murmured, "how can it be so similar?"
A Chunin nearby heard him and also frowned.
"Now that you mention it... it really is a bit similar."
Kakashi stood in another corner, his one visible eye narrowing slightly.
He saw it.
It wasn't just'similar'.
It was the same swordsmanship.
The same starting stance, the same way of exerting power, the same blocking angles, the same counterattack routes.
It was just that the two used it with slightly different styles.
One was sharper, the other more steady.
One was more like it was meant for killing, the other more like it was meant for defense.
But the foundation of that sword style was the same.
"Interesting," Kakashi said softly.