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SHING!
Omoi struck first. His ninja sword became a blur of steel.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Naruban strolled through it all. A single kunai deflected every slash, every thrust. Sparks flew with each perfect, casual parry.
Steel screamed. The impact vibrated up Omoi's arm, numbing his fingers. Damn it… This brat isn't just fast. He's strong too!
Too easy, Naruban thought. I don't even need the Sharingan for this.
CLANG!
Another clash. Omoi leaped back, putting distance between them. Chakra surged. Golden lightning crackled to life around his blade.
"Listen up, Leaf rookie! No more playing around!" Omoi shouted, his voice tight. "If you get hurt or die, blame your own arrogance!!!"
SCREEEECH—!
The lightning-coated blade sheared forward. Naruban's kunai snapped clean in two. He leaned back, an inch. The electrified edge whispered past his throat.
Omoi pressed the attack. A killing lunge.
"So many openings…"
Naruban murmured. For a fraction of a second, a crimson pinwheel flashed in his eyes. Gone.
He swayed aside. The broken, blunted end of his kunai hilt shot forward. No edge. Just force.
Thump.
It sank into Omoi's gut.
Drip.
Blood welled. Began to flow.
Naruban smirked. "Is that all you've got?"
"Guh… GAH—!!"
Omoi stumbled back, one hand clamped over the wound, the other gripping his sword for support. His mind spun into overdrive.
If… if his kunai hadn't broken… I'd be dead right now! My death alone wouldn't matter… But if this got out? It could spark a war between Konoha and Kumo! A war that could engulf the entire world! Tens of thousands… no, hundreds of thousands would die! That last clash… I didn't just save myself… I saved the world! AAAAAGH, I'M A HERO!!!
Naruban tossed the bloody kunai stub aside. "Your swordsmanship is pathetic. You're not even worth killing."
"Who the hell do you think you are, you little brat?!!"
Karui saw Omoi wounded. No hesitation. She drew her own blade and charged.
"Hmph."
Naruban welcomed it. He didn't retreat. He stepped into her attack, his steps light, his movements fluid. He danced through the storm of steel.
Karui swung. Sweat poured down her face. Her blade cut only air.
Why can't I hit him?! What the hell is this?!
Omoi tore a strip from his shirt, binding his stomach. Gritting his teeth, he rejoined the fray. Two seasoned Special Jonin, against one unarmed Leaf boy.
Samui watched, her expression growing darker. She disliked ganging up on a kid… but the reality was stark. Her two capable subordinates, young prodigies in their own right, couldn't touch this boy who looked even younger. Not a single scratch.
Who… what is he? Her mind raced. Konoha has someone like this?
CRACK! CRACK!
A coordinated strike. Naruban saw it coming a mile away. His hands shot out, fingers like iron vices, clamping around both their wrists mid-swing.
"Enough. End this farce."
With impossible strength, he twisted their arms. He forced their own blades inward, driving the points toward each other's chests.
"NO—!!!"
Samui moved. A blur of speed. Her short blade flashed.
—Cloud Style: Flying Blade!
SWOOSH—!!
A massive arc of crackling lightning erupted from her swing. It wasn't aimed at Naruban alone. It cut a wide, merciless path meant to bisect Omoi, Karui, and the intruder.
"Heh."
Naruban's lips curved. In the sliver of time between thought and action, he did three things.
He released their wrists. Planted a foot on each of their stomachs and kicked off. They flew apart, gasping.
He flipped backward in mid-air. Crossed his arms.
—Uchiha Foxfire Cross Slash!
FWOOOSH! FWOOOSH!
Two waves of blue-white fire erupted, crossing in mid-air to form a blazing 'X'. It slammed into the lightning arc, tore through it, and gouged a burning cruciform trench into the ground. Flames licked up from the fissures, casting dancing shadows.
Samui's face was stone. "Konoha shinobi. State your name!"
CLANG! CLANG!
Naruban flung the two captured ninja swords aside. He reached up, ripped the Leaf forehead protector from his brow. A small flame bloomed in his palm, melting the metal plate into a sizzling puddle of slag.
"This body's name carries little weight," he said, almost bored. "Fourteen years old and still a nobody. Fine."
He looked up, a sharp, arrogant grin spreading across his face. "Listen well. I am… Madara."
Karui blinked. "Madara…? Who's that?"
The grin faltered.
Omoi winced, thinking hard. "Madara, Madara… Sounds familiar. Ah! Inuzuka Madara?!"
The last trace of humor vanished from Naruban's face. His head lowered. A low, dangerous murmur escaped his lips.
"Of course. This generation, untouched by true war… has forgotten. Then let me re-carve that name, and the terror it brings, into your very souls."
The air chilled.
His head snapped up.
SHIIIIINNNE!!
The kaleidoscopic pattern of the Mangekyō Sharingan blazed to life.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
In the mental landscape of Samui, Omoi, Karui, and Ji, the same horrific vision manifested. A spectral giant, its colossal hand closing around their fragile mental images, crushing their will.
The sheer, overwhelming force of the genjutsu was too much. For Omoi, Karui, and Ji, their minds simply shut down. They collapsed, unconscious.
Only Samui, a full-fledged Jonin, held on. She dropped to one knee, her body trembling, her eyes wide with pure dread as the black-clad boy, radiating killing intent, walked toward her.
M-Madara…? Not… not the legendary… Uchiha Madara? But that's… a Warring States era figure. He's been dead for decades! How… why is he a child?!
Her hand shook violently as she tried to raise her blade, to stab her own leg—anything to break the illusion!
Move! Damn it, MOVE!!
Crunch.
Naruban's foot came down on her wrist, pinning it to the ground. He looked down at her, his gaze utterly devoid of warmth.
"A weak woman like you… on a real battlefield, you'd only be defiled. I'll grant you a chance to live. Has Kabuto Yakushi been here?"
"I… wouldn't know."
Naruban studied her eyes. The genuine confusion there was all the proof he needed.
"I see. Then you're useless."
Huummmm.
A black rod materialized in his palm. He gripped it, raised it high, and drove it straight down toward Samui's skull!!!
FWOOM!
A sharp whistle tore through the air from his blind spot!
"Tch!"
Naruban jerked his head aside. A streak of lightning grazed his cheek, opening a thin, bleeding line.
He glanced at the object now embedded in the ground beside him. A pencil.
He slowly turned his head.
The bull-shaped stone pillar at the base of the temple steps was gone. In its place stood a tall, dark-skinned man in sunglasses. A giant bandaged sword was strapped to his back. A rolled paper plug was stuffed in one nostril. His songbook was open, a fresh verse already scribbled down.
"Angry kid starts throwin' hands~?" he rapped, his body already moving to a silent beat. "Cool uncle steps up to the stands!~ Don't be like him, good kids~ Do be like him, bad kids!~ Uncle's got flytrap-flavored lollipops, Nine-Tails Fox~! Get in sync with the Octopus Fashion beat, pop that cute lil' booty, swing that sassy lil' tail~! Come on and move your feet~! Wiggle wiggle, SHAKE IT NOW~!!!"
Naruban stared, utterly deadpan. "What… is this thing?"
Swish, swish.
Black Zetsu oozed from the ground beside him. "Hehehe… The Eight-Tails Jinchuriki, Killer B! What an unexpected prize! You came for Kabuto, Master, but found the Eight-Tails instead! Obito has been searching everywhere for him… and we found him first!!!"
Naruban's interest ignited. "Oh? So this is the fool who made that loser Obito dance to his tune."
He touched the cut on his cheek, then licked the blood from his thumb. A predatory light entered his eyes.
"He drew my blood with a lightning-infused pencil."
—"At last… I can cut loose!"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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