"Jonin Senju Akira, reporting for duty, sir."
A young man, far taller than he should be at his age, stood with his head bowed as he announced his presence with a calm tone.
"Hm...Akira, it seems like you have gotten even better at concealing your chakra. I remember the first time we met - it's hard to believe the troublesome child sensei used to get mad over is now a jonin," a shorter yet older man sat in the Hokage's chair, stroking his brown goatee and his eyes glazed over as he reminisced with the past.
"Hokage-sama is too kind. My chakra control has yet to deserve such praise from you, my lord."
And indeed he had changed, quite drastically may I add. Gone was the childish innocence and baby fat that clung to his cheeks, and what came was a still soft, but more handsome, matured look.
His appearance hasn't been the only thing that changed though. His personality's was just as flip-sided, and you would have thought they were two different people with coincidentally similar looks. Before, he had been a mischievous kid, storming into the Hokage's office as if he owned it. Now, he entered through respectfully and even bowed to the Sandaime (yes, 'even'), as well as spoke with a conscious effort.
"Hahahahahaha! Don't be so rigid, will you? What happened to the child who always made the Lord Second so uncomposed?"
His constant reminders through the hearty laughter were a boulder crushing his dignity as Akira tried his best to fight back a blush that was starting to show.
Although he had been a cheeky little rascal when he was younger, but needn't Hiruzen joke about it now!
"My apologies Hokage-sama. I was a child back then, please excuse my behaviour. If I may, please explain the mission details you have called me for."
Akira, slightly embarrassed
"Yes, yes, I have indeed wasted too much of our time. The mission is not urgent, but I'd advise you to go immediately. It involves your younger brother, Senju Nawaki, I believe."
At 'younger' Akira's head shot up faster than a bullet, and at 'brother', he had already body flickered to the table where a mission scroll was.
No longer than two seconds passed before he excused himself with a hasty apology and bow.
"Please forgive me once again, but I must make haste to my mission."
A swift bow followed suit before he once again body flickered out through the window.
"Hehehehehehe...the brat really does care about brat number two doesn't he? And it seems his body flicker is getting better by the day as well..."
.
.
.
'Damn it! If I find so much a graze on his clothes, I will burn Kusagakure to ashes!'
The mission scroll contained only a few sentences. Akira only paid any attention to two, and the rest were simply ignored.
'Senju Nawaki along with his team and jonin instructor was sent on a mission outside the Land of Fire, in the Land of Grass, near the Hidden Grass Village...
...A signal has been sent requesting immediate backup with the rank of at least another jonin.'
And now that brings us to the present, where Akira was currently body flickering in and out of existence, so fast there wasn't even a blur of movement seen. While doing so consuming chakra like crazy, he had the wonderful benefit of being both a Senju and Uzumaki, both of which clans were known for their absurdly high chakra reserves.
But the heavens were not fair, and the gods were not benevolent. If anything, they gave humans power merely for their own entertainment, a sick form of joy in hopes of easing their boredom.
Perhaps they thought they would give him more power in exchange for worse luck, whichever one was better was not up to him to choose.
'Ugh...why can't I be faster? What if Nawaki's in danger already?'
.
.
.
"Not good!"
At least fifty shinobi, all with a Kusagakure hitai-ate but marked with a kunai, surrounded a considerably smaller group. This group consisted of:
Nawaki, who held up a kunai in defense, his hand and body shaking.
An Aburame, named Natsu, who stood back to back with Nawaki, his insects poised and crawling out.
A normal civilian girl with long flowing brown hair, named Furuya Sakiko.
And finally, their jonin sensei, a young and tall shinobi with a cut on his upper cheek, probably from defending his students.
"Katsuo-sensei!"
The three young genin exclaimed in unison, voices laced with utter panic yet also relief.
"Stay behind, Nawaki, Natsu, Sakiko. I'll handle these guys."
And though he said this with eyes burning in determination, his words were more to assure himself than anyone.
He was a jonin for sure, but he had only been recently promoted, and his age made his lack of experience a clear problem. Another factor to this fight was the enemy ninja's own status.
A fight against fifty shinobi was already hard, even if they were just self-trained with little jutsu, much less these former-hidden grass village ones.
Kusagakure wasn't a big nation like Kiri, Kumo, Iwa, or the others, but it wasn't just any village either. If you split them into three ranks, with the Five Great Nations at the top, and normal villages at the bottom, Kusa could be considered at the peak of the middle ranks.
Not only that, but from what Katsuo could sense, at least two of them were jonin, and maybe another two were Tokubetsu jonin.
A smirk formed at the corner of his lips of one of the leading shinobi.
"Hehe, only a jonin and his little brats? This will be a easy job!" He laughed, voice dripping with arrogance.
'I can probably take care of most the genin and chunin, but with them to take care of...'
He glanced back at his three students, standing back-to-back and each holding up a kunai as a meager defense.
'...the jonin and special jonin will be even harder to take care of.'
Then, with a resolute gaze, Katsuo spoke up seriously, catching the three's attention, "You three will run while I hold them off, alright? Don't look back and just run!"
"Katsuo-sensei-!"
"Listen to me! If you stay back, you'll only be hindering my performance!"
"B-but!"
"No buts! I am your jonin instructor, my word is law and I command you to run!"
After a heavy look back at their sensei, though hesitantly, they turned and never looked back, just like what he asked.
But the enemy wasn't just going to let them go like that, right?
"How noble - sacrificing yourself in order to save three little worthless brats. Too bad you'll all die, and I'll be the one to personally send you to hell!"
After that, he quickly formed a few hand signs before shouting out.
"Suiton - Ryūsuisō!"
Several spears made of water materialised, the raindrops on the ground adding to the ninjutsu.
"Damn it! Doton - Doryūheki"
A wall of earth suddenly rose up, blocking the attacks, stalling for time for Nawaki and his teammates to escape.
The attacks did not cease, yet instead increased in number as more nuke-nin joined in the attack.
"Let's take him down!"
"Yeah, yeah! Once the jonin's down, the stupid genin will be defenseless!"
"It'll be a lamb to the slaughter!"
Of course, as a jonin, he still couldn't be taken down that easily.
.
.
.
"Huff, huff..."
"Tch," a middle-aged man, around 30-40 stepped out of the debris, looking very annoyed, "I'd admit - you're impressive."
Katsuo was now littered in wounds, deep and shallow, and his chakra was severely depleted, with only about enough to release one more jutsu, and even then it would be suicidal.
"Given a few more years and you could be an elite jonin for sure," he continued, a ugly smile forming, "But that's not going to happen. Go to hell!"
Just as he was about to pierce a kunai through his heart, suddenly, as if it was a force of nature, his body ceased all movement.
"?!"
"What?! I can't move my body! What kind of jutsu is this?! Tell me!"
Katsuo was equally confused.
At first, he thought death was certain, but now something, or someone had saved him.
Then, a certain blonde-haired male stepped out, his hands forming a 'ram' sign.
All blood drained from the frozen man's face as he realised what jutsu it was - knowledge obtained through the harsh truths of war against the Uzumaki clan.
"This is-!"
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Words ~1412
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