The crowd of angry villagers had stopped a few feet away from Renjiro, their momentum dying instantly as they caught sight of his dark green flak jacket. The symbol of Konoha's military might was unmistakable, and even before their eyes travelled to his near shoulder-length dark red hair, it was obvious who he was.
Renjiro had gained quite a reputation. He was one of the youngest jounins of the village and the only Konoha shinobi who had the Sharingan and did not use the Uchiha name. But whether that reputation was good or bad was left to be seen.
"Wait, isn't that… Renjiro?" one of the villagers muttered under his breath, his previous bravado faltering.
"Yeah," another replied in a low voice, eyeing the jounin warily. "We'd better be careful."
Renjiro glanced at the crowd briefly before his attention shifted back to the small boy clutching his cloak. Obito Uchiha stood trembling at his side, his eyes darting nervously between Renjiro and the angry villagers. Just as the boy opened his mouth to explain himself, the mob broke into a cacophony of complaints.
"He knocked over my stall!"
"He stuck fireworks inside my shop—nearly gave my son a heart attack!"
"He filled my fish pond with oil! The whole thing stinks!"
"Set off a stink bomb in the market!"
The accusations came fast and furious, each louder than the last, as the villagers relayed all the trouble Obito had caused in what seemed to be a mere span of hours.
Renjiro's expression didn't change, though inwardly, he couldn't help but marvel at the list of mischief the boy had gotten up to.
'It's barely even noon, and he's already done all that?' Renjiro thought incredulously.
He glanced down at Obito, whose face was beet red with embarrassment, his small frame quivering under the weight of Renjiro's silent scrutiny.
Sensing the pressure, Obito quickly spoke up, his voice shaky but defensive.
"It was just harmless pranks!" he stammered, looking up at Renjiro with wide, pleading eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone! It was all in good fun! I swear!"
Renjiro sighed internally, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn't help but wonder if Fujioka, Obito's father, had any idea how troublesome his son was.
The elder Uchiha had always been a serious, disciplined shinobi. To think that his son was causing so much trouble…
"Harmless or not, you've caused a lot of headaches today, Obito," Renjiro said quietly, his tone measured.
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a storage seal. With a practised motion, he activated the seal, summoning a stack of Ryo notes into his hand. The villagers, still murmuring and complaining, fell silent as they watched him.
Renjiro held up the money, his gaze steady. "I'm sorry for the trouble this boy has caused," he said evenly, addressing the mob.
"I hope this will be enough to compensate for the damage."
The tension in the air was palpable as he extended the money toward the nearest villager. However, just as the man reached out to accept it, Renjiro let a sliver of his killing intent seep into the atmosphere.
It was barely a trace, just enough to make the air feel heavier, but the effect was immediate. The villagers froze, beads of cold sweat forming on their brows as they felt the sudden shift in pressure.
Though Renjiro wasn't looking directly at them, they could sense the weight of his presence—a reminder of the lives he had taken in battle, the blood that stained his hands as a shinobi.
"Take it," Renjiro said softly, his voice as calm as ever.
The man before him gulped audibly, quickly snatching the money from Renjiro's hand without another word. The rest of the mob muttered their thanks as they accepted their compensation, each of them eager to be on their way before the jounin decided they were more trouble than they were worth.
As the villagers dispersed, Renjiro overheard one of them whisper to his companion, "Why is he covering for the boy? He's barely even talented."
"Shh! Keep your voice down," his friend hissed. "Do you want him to hear you?"
Renjiro's eyes narrowed slightly at the words, but he said nothing. Instead, he watched them leave, his thoughts briefly wandering to the future.
'If only they knew what a monster he would grow up to be,' Renjiro mused, though he kept that thought to himself.
Once the last of the villagers had disappeared from view, Renjiro turned his attention back to the small figure at his side. Obito was still standing there, staring at the ground with a mix of shame and relief. Renjiro let out a quiet sigh, folding his arms as he addressed the boy.
"Why are you causing all this trouble, Obito?" Renjiro asked, his voice stern but not unkind.
"Shouldn't you be on a mission with your jounin sensei?"
Obito's face fell at the question, and he kicked at the dirt with his foot. "Minato-sensei is busy," he muttered, barely loud enough for Renjiro to hear.
"He got a mission from the Hokage, so he gave us a couple of days off…"
Renjiro raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And did Minato give you days off to train, or to cause havoc around the village?"
Obito squirmed under the weight of the question, unable to meet Renjiro's gaze. "I… I was going to train!" he said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"But then I… well… I got distracted."
Renjiro remained silent, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "Stay out of trouble, Obito," he said firmly. "And keep training. Don't waste the time you've been given."
Obito looked up at him, his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, it seemed as though he was going to argue, but then he nodded, his expression softening.
"Okay," he said quietly.
Renjiro turned to leave, his hand still resting on the staff slung across his back. However, before he could take more than a few steps, Obito's voice called after him.
"Wait! Renjiro!"
Renjiro glanced back over his shoulder, his brow furrowing slightly. "What is it now?"
Obito hesitated for a moment, shifting from foot to foot before blurting out, "Where are you going?"
"I'm heading to the weaponsmith," Renjiro replied, already turning away again. "I need to get my weapon fixed."
At that, Obito's eyes lit up, his face brightening in an instant. "Can I come with you?" he asked eagerly, his previous nervousness forgotten in the face of his newfound excitement.
Renjiro stopped in his tracks, considering the boy's request. He didn't particularly relish the idea of having company, especially when his mood was still so heavy from his earlier thoughts about Senjutsu.
But before he could come up with an excuse to say no, he saw the hopeful look in Obito's eyes—so full of youthful energy and optimism, despite the scolding he had just received.
"Fine," Renjiro said with a sigh. "You can come."
"Yes!" Obito pumped his fist into the air, grinning from ear to ear as he fell into step beside Renjiro.
But Renjiro soon regretted his decision.
The moment they started walking, Obito began talking—and he didn't stop.
The boy chattered away non-stop, bouncing from one topic to the next without any regard for Renjiro's growing exhaustion. He recounted every mission Minato's team had taken, every training session, every sparring match. He even told Renjiro about the infamous bell test, the one that Minato had apparently used to gauge his team's teamwork.
"And then, during the bell test, Minato-sensei told us we had to work together to get the bells! But I couldn't figure out what he meant at first, so I just kept trying to grab the bells on my own. But of course, that didn't work, and I—"
Renjiro mentally checked out somewhere between the bell test and the description of Minato's chakra control exercises. But what finally pushed him to the edge was when Obito, completely unprompted, started talking about Renjiro's former squad leader—Obito's father, Fujioka—and how his parents were trying to give him siblings.
"You know, my mom and dad are talking about having another kid!" Obito said with a grin.
"They say they want to give me a little brother or sister. Isn't that cool?"
Renjiro nearly tripped over his own feet. He fought the urge to facepalm himself, settling instead for a quiet groan.
"That's… great, Obito," he muttered, barely keeping the exasperation out of his voice.
By the time they reached the weaponsmith, Renjiro had learned far more about that Uchiha household than he had ever wanted to know. He quickly handed over his Bō to be repaired, grateful for the brief reprieve from Obito's constant chatter.
However, the moment they left the shop, the boy's excitement bubbled over once again, and he turned to Renjiro with wide, eager eyes.
"Hey, Renjiro?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically serious.
Renjiro raised an eyebrow, his patience already wearing thin. "What is it now, Obito?"
Obito hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground before he spoke. "How… how can I become stronger?"
Renjiro regarded him quietly, studying the boy's face. It was a simple question, but one that held a weight far beyond Obito's years. After a long silence, Renjiro finally asked, "Why do you want to become stronger?"
Obito looked up, his expression earnest. "Because… because I want to become Hokage," he said with conviction. "I want to protect the village and make everyone acknowledge me."
"That's a noble goal," Renjiro said, though his tone was more contemplative than encouraging. "But why do you think I'm the right person to ask?"
Obito blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"
"If you want to know how to get stronger, wouldn't the best person to ask be your sensei?" Renjiro pointed out. "Minato is one of the strongest shinobi in the village. Or even Kakashi—he's your teammate, right? He's got more battle experience than most."
At the mention of Kakashi's name, something shifted in Obito's expression. His face darkened, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fists at his sides. Which Renjiro immediately saw.
'Why should I ask that bastard?' Obito thought bitterly, though he kept his anger to himself.
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