The next day, at Team Ten's usual training ground.
Shizune bounced over like an excited little bird the moment they gathered, unable to wait as she hopped in front of Shinichi and Kurenai, her eyes sparkling.
"Did you hear? A samurai from the Land of Iron came to the village as a client! I heard he's really young, and this afternoon he's going to spar with our village's shinobi at Training Ground Three!"
"Anyway, we don't have any missions or training this afternoon, so let's go take a look together! I've never seen a real samurai from the Land of Iron before. I wonder if they're really like in the books—super tall, super strong, all serious-faced, carrying those really long swords."
As she spoke, she used her hands to gesture an exaggerated length, her face full of curiosity.
Kurenai gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling softly as she nodded.
"I don't mind either. The samurai of the Land of Iron are known to be mysterious and rarely leave their country. Being able to observe their swordsmanship and combat style up close should broaden our horizons."
She was somewhat interested as well. As a shinobi who practiced both genjutsu and swordsmanship, Kurenai naturally had a desire to explore different combat styles.
Hearing this, Shinichi also showed an appropriate look of curiosity and nodded in agreement.
"It really is rare. The swordsmanship of the Land of Iron forms its own system, and its focus might differ from the kenjutsu and taijutsu that shinobi train in. Speaking of which, when I first started learning, I was taught the Land of Iron style by Yamashita-sensei. After all these years, I'd quite like to see for myself how their swordsmanship has evolved. Watching it might give me some inspiration."
"Then it's settled!" Shizune clapped her hands happily. "Let's go early this afternoon and grab a good spot! I heard there might be quite a crowd."
...
That afternoon, the sky was a clear, expansive blue, with only a few wisps of cloud so faint they were almost invisible.
The autumn sunlight had lost the harshness of midsummer, becoming bright yet gentle. Still, standing among a crowd for too long, one could feel a faint, warm dryness.
The wind passed through the trees surrounding the training ground, bringing a trace of coolness—but it couldn't disperse the growing heat of the atmosphere.
Shizune had underestimated the curiosity of Konoha's people.
Even though they had arrived well ahead of time, the best viewing spots around Training Ground Three had already been taken by a dense sea of people.
Villagers, off-duty genin, and even some chūnin without assignments had gathered. Heads packed tightly together, voices buzzing, they completely surrounded the large training ground.
People stretched their necks, whispering to each other, excitedly looking toward the center. The young samurai from the mysterious Land of Iron—who had spent a fortune just to find someone to fight—had ignited everyone's curiosity and speculation.
After all, it was the first time Konoha had received such a strange mission.
Someone hiring others… just to fight them.
"Excuse us, please let us through…" Shizune pulled Kurenai along while Shinichi followed behind. The three of them struggled quite a bit before finally squeezing into a spot slightly closer to the front.
Before they could even steady themselves and get a clear look at the two sides facing off, the cheering from the surrounding villagers suddenly cut off—like throats being seized by an invisible hand.
Then—
Bang!
A figure was sent flying from the center of the field, crashing heavily onto the hard ground, dust scattering into the air.
The man wore Konoha's standard green flak jacket. Thin in build, he was now curled up in pain, unable to get back up for the moment.
A young, deep voice—filled with obvious dissatisfaction and unrestrained arrogance—rang out clearly across the entire field right after the impact: "What's this supposed to be!? Didn't I say in the mission request to send a jōnin if possible? Why send just a chūnin? At this level, it's not even enough for a proper warm-up!"
On the ground, Gekkō Arashi felt his chest tighten, a metallic taste rising in his throat. He wanted to shout back that he wasn't a chūnin, but a tokubetsu jōnin who had advanced thanks to his unique swordsmanship!
But the pain and the disruption in his chakra made it impossible for him to speak.
Ah!?
A senior from the village… lost?
And lost this quickly?
Shizune froze, then quickly stood on tiptoe, anxiously looking toward the field.
At the center of the training ground stood a young man—abnormally tall and broad.
He looked no more than fifteen or sixteen, yet was more robust than many adult shinobi. Dressed in a simple, dark samurai outfit, he stood there like a mountain—heavy and immovable.
In his hand was a drawn katana, its blade gleaming coldly as it hung casually at his side.
Beneath his thick brows, his eyes shone with startling brightness as they swept over the noisy crowd, his face openly displaying his lack of satisfaction.
As if that weren't enough, he muttered—loud enough for everyone present to hear—his tone tinged with complaint: "If I'd known Konoha was only at this level, I might as well have gone next door to the Land of Wind and hired Sunagakure. I heard they've been short on money lately."
…!
How arrogant!
Shizune puffed out her cheeks, unable to hold back. Even if he was the client, those words were far too harsh.
And around her, the people of Konoha—after a brief moment of shock and silence—erupted like a lit powder keg.
"Kid! What did you just say!?"
"Where did this wild samurai come from, thinking he's invincible!?"
"You just got lucky once—what are you so arrogant about!?"
"This is Konoha! You don't get to act wild here!"
"If you've got the guts, don't leave!"
The crowd was furious. Many hot-tempered villagers and young shinobi were red-faced, pointing at Isshin and shouting. If not for the rules and the barrier of the arena, they might have already rushed in and torn him apart.
Standing among the crowd, Shinichi's face showed little emotion, but inwardly he shook his head.
These Konoha folks sure react fast—and loudly. Good. The atmosphere's heating up nicely.
Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, a Konoha chūnin in a green vest—responsible for coordinating this exchange mission—hurriedly stepped forward, wiping sweat from his forehead as he spread his arms to calm the crowd.
"Everyone! Everyone, please calm down! Sparring matches naturally have winners and losers! Isshin-sama, please be patient as well. It may be that… that we misjudged your strength. I will report this immediately and make new arrangements!"
As he spoke, he shot a look to a companion beside him. The other nodded in understanding and immediately vanished in a Body Flicker—clearly heading to report the situation to the Hokage's office.
...
Hokage Office.
After listening to the brief report from the chūnin about how the first match had ended almost instantly, the Third Hokage paused slightly as he was about to lift his teacup.
"Defeated in just two exchanges?" He raised his eyes, a trace of surprise flashing within them.
It seemed his estimation of this samurai from the Land of Iron had been off.
He set the teacup down and thought for a moment.
Gekkō Arashi's quick defeat might partly be due to underestimation or a mismatch in tactics—but there was no doubt that the opponent's strength was formidable.
Since the other party had explicitly requested a jōnin, then a steady and experienced jōnin should be sent. That would both properly test his capabilities and keep the situation under control.
"Go. Inform jōnin Kawano Ayumu to head to Training Ground Three immediately," the Third Hokage instructed.
Kawano Ayumu was an experienced jōnin, proficient in Wind Release and skilled in swordsmanship. His personality was calm, and he knew how to assess situations—an appropriate choice.
"Yes!"
That should be enough, the Third Hokage thought to himself.
After taking a sip of tea, he lowered his head once more and resumed handling the thick stack of documents before him.
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