The streets of the Fire Capital were in pure chaos.
Jiraiya bolted ahead like a startled rabbit, shouting half-formed excuses while a mob of furious bathhouse women chased behind him with buckets, slippers, and anything else they could weaponize. Kakashi and Uchiha Souji, dragged helplessly into the mess, ran after him only because they had no choice. If they stopped now, the crowd would probably beat them too just for being nearby.
But on a quiet rooftop overlooking the street, a pale young man sipped tea calmly, unfazed by the screaming and crashing below. His half-lidded eyes briefly studied the chaotic trio—Jiraiya in front, Kakashi in the middle, and Souji sprinting behind them with a backpack bouncing violently.
He didn't care about Kakashi.
He didn't care about the civilians.
His eyes paused—just for a second—on Uchiha Souji.
Then they focused fully on Jiraiya.
He murmured something inaudible, set his cup down, and vanished from the rooftop like he'd never been there.
---
Souji senses danger
Meanwhile on the ground, Uchiha Souji suddenly stiffened.
A strange chill slithered down his spine and finally settled in his lower back. It was such a sharp, uncanny feeling that he involuntarily glanced around.
And then he sniffed the air.
Sniff, sniff.
His eyes narrowed.
"Why do I smell a snake…?"
But nothing unusual was visible around him—only normal people staring at Jiraiya's path of destruction.
Souji clicked his tongue.
Must've been nothing.
Kakashi and Jiraiya finally stopped running at the plaza, well out of reach of the screaming bathhouse mob. Their ninja speed ensured no civilian could ever catch up, and within seconds the chase dissolved into confused yelling behind them.
Safe—for now.
Kakashi shot Jiraiya a glare so sharp it could cut stone.
---
Kakashi: truly suffering inside
"Master Jiraiya…" Kakashi groaned. "Can you please be more discreet the next time you—"
"Gather material for my writing?" Jiraiya finished proudly, slapping Kakashi's shoulder. "Relax, relax. This is all valuable experience, my boy! Good for inspiration!"
"Experience?!" Kakashi nearly choked.
Was this really his teacher?
Beside them, Souji had already arranged his expression into a polite, respectful smile. He bowed slightly when introduced.
"Hello, Lord Jiraiya."
"Oh?" Jiraiya tilted his head when he noticed the Uchiha crest on Souji's back. "A kid from the Uchiha clan? Interesting… So the old man is trying to rebuild trust between Konoha and the Uchiha after all."
Before Kakashi could answer, a small voice cut through the conversation.
---
"Are you a samurai? Or a ronin?"
Souji blinked.
He turned around, expecting an adult.
What he found instead was a small boy—barely his height—with messy hair, dirt-smudged cheeks, and a wooden practice sword tied to his waist.
The kid was staring directly at Souji.
Aggressively.
And Souji's brain went flat.
A brat?! Right now?!
He absolutely hated dealing with children—except cute ones like Hinata. But this kid? No. Absolutely not.
"I asked you something!" the boy snapped.
Souji raised an eyebrow.
Ah. A street kid. That explained the attitude.
"I'm not a samurai," Souji replied calmly. "And not a ronin either."
The brat snorted loudly and wiped his nose with his thumb. Disgusting.
"Then why are you carrying a katana?! Only samurai do that!"
Souji touched the sheath of Third Generation Onitoru at his waist.
Even without drawing it, he knew the sword spirit inside was already annoyed.
He tried the laziest lie possible.
"Oh, this? Just a decoration. Part of my clothing. Not a real sword."
The brat's eyes narrowed.
"Liar. I can tell by the way it hangs. It's heavy. That's a real sword."
Souji froze.
Kakashi choked back a laugh.
Jiraiya raised his eyebrows like he'd found a new source of entertainment.
The brat pointed directly at Souji and declared with full arrogance:
---
"Fight me! If you lose, give me your sword!"
(Bold = important scene)
Souji nearly coughed blood.
A seven-year-old being challenged by an even smaller seven-year-old.
What kind of humiliation was this?!
He forced a strained smile.
"Uh… I don't know swordsmanship, and I'm hungry. I want to eat, not fight."
He shot Kakashi a desperate look.
Save me. Please. Do your job as a responsible adult.
Kakashi finally stepped forward and waved at the boy dismissively.
"Hey kid, go play elsewhere. This is Lord Jiraiya."
The brat completely ignored Kakashi, pointed at his own chest, and introduced himself proudly:
"My name is Takeda Izo! Fight me!"
Souji's eyebrow twitched.
Takeda Izo didn't stop.
"Aren't you afraid? Huh? If you don't dare fight, just give me the sword! It looks crazy strong!"
Souji slowly inhaled through his nose.
Then exhaled.
Then turned to Kakashi again.
His expression said:
"Kakashi-senpai… if I kill him, will I go to prison?"
Kakashi avoided eye contact.
Jiraiya watched with genuine amusement. He even took out a notebook—as if preparing to record this for the next volume of Make-Out Paradise.
Takeda Izo poked Souji's thigh.
"Hey! Answer me! Are you deaf? Hellooo? Hellooooo?"
Souji's face twitched.
His eye twitched.
Even the Third Generation Onitoru in his mind whispered:
"Master… he is provoking you. Let me handle—"
"NO," Souji hissed internally.
Then finally, finally, Kakashi made a decision.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and whispered to Souji:
"You can duel him… just don't go too far. This is the capital of the Land of Fire."
Souji stared at him.
A full betrayal. A complete abandonment of moral support.
Kakashi looked away, pretending he hadn't just thrown Souji to the wolves.
Takeda Izo grinned widely, showing a missing tooth.
"Good! Come fight!"
Souji finally lost his patience.
He cracked his knuckles.
A menacing smile spread across his young but very experienced face.
And he whispered:
---
"Kid… you picked the wrong Uchiha."
Takeda Izo gulped—but it was too late.
The duel was on.
.
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