As Kūga stood at the river's edge, the morning sun cast a warm, golden glow across the serene landscape. The gentle breeze carried the faint crackle of his dying campfire, a soothing melody.
With a subtle flex of his Aether, he ascended, rising above the treetops to survey the surrounding
terrain. From his elevated vantage point, his keen eyes discerned a winding road in the distance.
The ancient trade route, likely traversed by small caravans and itinerant travelers, beckoned him toward human civilization. With a soft hum, Kūga drifted forward, his effortless flight blending with the landscape.
He maintained a low altitude, skimming the treetops as he traversed the deserted road. Initially, he savored the tranquil morning air and the peacefulness of the uninhabited land.
However, as minutes passed, the absence of human presence became increasingly evident. No caravans, wagons, or signs of recent travelers broke the stillness.
Only wildlife stirred beneath him: deer darting through the trees and birds soaring alongside, oblivious to the man flying nearby, a silent observer of the unspoiled wilderness.
A faint furrow creased Kūga's brow. "Still no one, not even a caravan?" he murmured, a hint of puzzlement in his tone.
Deciding to press on, Kūga surged forward, his form slicing through the air with arrow-like precision. The forest blurred beneath him as he moved with purpose.
The winding road unwound below, guiding him toward his destination. His senses remained vigilant, scanning for signs of human activity—a village, a settlement, any indication of life.
Minutes passed, and then, his keen eyes detected something in the distance. Adjusting his course,
Kūga flew toward the faint outline of rooftops.
As he drew closer, the details sharpened: smoke drifted from a chimney, signaling the presence of life. A hint of a smile played on his lips.
'Ah, a small village. That's promising,' Kūga thought, his expression transforming into a thoughtful smirk.
Kūga approached the village swiftly, slowing his pace only as he neared the outskirts. He descended silently, landing beyond the villagers' line of sight.
His footsteps casual, he walked toward the entrance, blending in as a weary traveler. Two guards, seemingly untroubled by threats, stood watch.
Their bored expressions and sheathed weapons betrayed a sense of complacency. Kūga observed them with a discerning eye, his thoughts tinged with quiet objectivity.
"Hmm, they're weak," he mused, devoid of arrogance. "Even children from the Uchiha, Senju, and lesser clans surpass these guards in strength."
He reconsidered, tempering his assessment. "Perhaps it's unfair to compare ordinary folk to clans forged in conflict..."
As Kūga approached the gates, one of the guards straightened up and stepped forward. The other followed, looking slightly more alert but not overly cautious.
"Halt," the first guard said, raising a hand. "Do you have any identification, traveler?"
Kūga smiled easily, letting the warmth of his expression produce a sense of calm. He had no intention of causing trouble, and besides, these guards seemed harmless enough. "I'm Kūga. Kūga Seiryu," he said, giving his full name as he paused before them.
The guards exchanged a look. There was a flicker of recognition in their eyes, as though the name stirred something deep within their memory. The second guard, more uncertain than the first, leaned in slightly and whispered to his companion.
"Wait... are you that Kūga?" the first guard asked, eyes widening slightly.
Kūga tilted his head, amused. "Well, I do think my name's unique, so yes, I guess?"
At that, the second guard's posture stiffened. He took a step back, clearly more on edge. "Kūga… from the Land of Fire?"
Kūga blinked, then looked at them funny. "Well, I do think that this road only connects to the Land of Fire, so maybe… yes?"
Both guards gulped, their nervousness now fully apparent. One of them—the braver of the two—nodded awkwardly and mumbled, "Well, you do have white hair..."
Kūga sighed softly, seeing their reaction grow. He had encountered this before, where the tales of his abilities spread fear rather than admiration. "Why do you seem so scared?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head. "Whatever you've heard about me is probably false."
The guards stared at him for a moment, glancing at each other again. There was an awkward silence, and finally, one of them exhaled in relief. "So... the rumor about you being able to destroy and reshape massive lands is false?"
Kūga raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. Then he burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the quiet road. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as his laughter subsided. "Well, I guess that part's true," he said with a grin. "But don't worry, I'm not here to destroy your village. I'm just here for a bit of adventure."
The guards relaxed visibly, though their curiosity lingered in their eyes. The thought of someone capable of such immense power casually strolling into their village was almost too much to comprehend. But Kūga's demeanor... calm, laid-back, and surprisingly warm, helped to ease their initial fears.
"Welcome then, Kūga of the Land of Fire," one of the guards said, stepping aside. "Enjoy your stay."
Kūga gave them a nod of appreciation before walking through the village gates. He could feel their eyes on him, probably still in disbelief, but he let it slide.
The village was small, but the simple charm of it appealed to him as he continued his walk, ready for whatever this adventure might bring.
.
Kūga strolled around the village with an air of curiosity and purpose, his senses heightened as he discreetly activated his Aetheric abilities. The pulse of his Aether expanded outward, covering the entire village as he searched for even the faintest trace of someone who might possess the same mysterious energy.
His brow furrowed as the scan completed, yielding nothing. No sign of Aether.
He sighed, shaking his head in mild disappointment. For a moment, he hoped this village might reveal someone who carried the same latent power. But it was just as he suspected; there was nothing here.
A woman walking down the same street caught sight of him, her features set with disdain as she noticed his shaking head.
She was dressed in what could only be described as luxury by this village's standards... a shabby but clearly expensive dress compared to the simpler attire of the villagers around her. Her nose turned up slightly as she approached him with an air of arrogance.
"My my," she said in a haughty tone, her lips curving into a smirk. "It seems someone is disappointed with my village's appearance."
Kūga, however, wasn't paying attention. His mind was elsewhere as he activated his Aether once more, stretching it further beyond the village limits. His focus sharpened, sweeping across the surrounding areas in search of even the faintest residue of Aether.
Nothing.
He shook his head again, his expression a mixture of frustration and boredom.
The woman's smirk vanished, replaced by a look of indignation. "I don't know who you think you are, brat," she snapped, her voice rising as she took a step closer. "But-"
She stopped mid-sentence the moment Kūga turned his head and faced her fully.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and the words died on her lips as she took in his face—his strikingly handsome features, the sharpness of his gaze.
'Handsome...' she thought, momentarily taken aback.
Her demeanor shifted almost instantly, the anger melting away as she fluttered her lashes. "Oh my, why don't yo—"
"Hm? Who's this ugly?" Kūga interrupted, his tone casual, as if he were commenting on the weather.
The woman's face froze, the shock visible as her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She blinked in disbelief, completely stunned by the sheer audacity of someone calling her ugly.
No one had ever spoken to her like this. She had always been the center of attention in the village, known for her looks and married to the wealthiest man around.
"You... You dare!" she shrieked, regaining her voice, her face now flushed with rage. "Do you know who I am?! My husband owns this entire village! He could have you thrown out, or worse! You've made a big mistake, brat!"
Kūga glanced at her briefly but found himself too bored to entertain her rant any longer. Her threats rolled off him like water off a duck's back.
He barely paid attention to the details of her ranting, his eyes drifting elsewhere. His gaze landed on a small tavern down the road. Without a word, he turned and started walking toward it, leaving the enraged woman standing there, sputtering in disbelief.
"Just you wait!" she screamed after him. "You'll regret this!"
Kūga didn't look back, his pace unhurried as he approached the tavern's entrance.
He could still hear her shouting in the distance, but it was nothing more than background noise now.
As he stepped inside, the scent of stale ale and roasted meat greeted him.
The tavern wasn't particularly busy, but a few people sat around, occupying the dining tables while others stood at the edges of the room, quietly talking amongst themselves.
His entrance momentarily caught the attention of the patrons. Conversations paused as they glanced at him, their eyes briefly lingering on his white hair.
A few exchanged whispers, but after a few moments, they returned to whatever they were doing, as if he were just another traveler passing through.
Kūga walked up to the counter, leaning in slightly as he slid a single ryo across to the tavern keeper. The man behind the counter was older, his face lined with age, though his sharp eyes betrayed that he missed very little.
"Got any news on anything strange here?" Kūga asked quietly, keeping his tone casual.
The tavern keeper didn't even look up, his expression blank as he continued polishing a cup.
"No," he said in a low voice, barely audible over the murmur of the tavern. "But I did hear some travelers talking about some bounty on a slave trader…"
Kūga's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of a slave trader. He hadn't expected to hear about something like that, but in a world still ruled by warlords and powerful clans, it wasn't exactly surprising.
'A slave trader? In this world? Well, it's not impossible,' he thought, contemplating the implications. "Tell me more."
The keeper stayed silent for a moment, his face unmoved, as if he was gauging whether or not to continue.
Realizing this, Kūga pulled out a small pouch from his robes and placed 20 ryo on the counter.
"Here," he said, smiling slightly. "Give me a shot of sake. And get one for yourself."
The tavern keeper's demeanor changed at once. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he nodded, quickly pouring two shots of sake. He slid one toward Kūga and took the other for himself.
"It isn't really a secret," the keeper began, taking a sip of his drink. "Yūji Tanaka. That's the guy's name. It's rumored that he's got all sorts of people enslaved. Different types of people, for different kinds of buyers. Some come from wealthy families looking for servants, others from the darker sides of power, interested in unique 'quirks.'"
The tavern-keeper downed his sake in one go before continuing. "People passing through here are always looking for him, or so I hear. Last I heard, he's moved on to the Land of Wind."
Kūga's brow furrowed at the mention of the Land of Wind.
It was one of the largest, most desolate regions in the known world.
It's the perfect hiding place for someone who didn't want to be found.
"The Land of Wind, huh?" he muttered, thinking it over.
The tavern keeper nodded. "That's the rumor, anyway. It's a harsh land. Perfect for cruel people like him."
Kūga finished his shot of sake, feeling the warmth of the alcohol settle in his chest. He placed the cup back on the counter and nodded at the keeper. "Thanks for the information."
As he turned to leave, the tavern keeper called out one last piece of advice. "If you're going after him, look for the guy with a big stitch on his neck. I heard he got it from a nasty fight, and it'd be hard to cover up."
Kūga didn't look back, but he raised his hand in acknowledgment, stepping out into the sunlight as the door swung shut behind him.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he considered his next move.
A slave trader in the Land of Wind… it sounded like a challenge worth his time, plus the money too. 'Well, I don't how much his head's worth but I definitely won't turn down a bit of extra money.'
.
Kūga stepped out of the tavern, the sun casting long shadows across the dusty streets as he casually adjusted his cloak.
As he made his way down the road, the distant murmurs of the villagers faded into the background, leaving only the wind rustling the trees.
His thoughts briefly lingered on the tavern keeper's words about the slave trader, Yūji Tanaka. It piqued his interest, but he wasn't in any particular rush.
Adventure had always been his way of passing time, and now, with no immediate objective, he found himself drifting from one curiosity to the next.
He was just about to take flight again when a group of men appeared, stepping out from an alley and cutting off his path.
Kūga slowed to a halt, glancing at them with mild curiosity.
Their leader, a hulking figure standing head and shoulders above the rest, caught his eye first. He was a massive man, rippling with muscle, with a large sword strapped to his back. A weapon that looked strikingly similar to Zabuza's, though lacking the iconic holes.
Despite his size and the intimidating aura he carried, Kūga didn't really care.
The man's hair was balding in the middle but thick on the sides, a look that caused Kūga to smirk internally. 'Must be all that stress from his wife,' he thought, recalling the screeching woman from earlier.
One of the men stepped forward, clearly the leader, his steps heavy on the ground as he addressed Kūga. "I heard you and my wife had a... misunderstanding."
Kūga's eyebrows raised in mild surprise, but he didn't lose his carefree attitude. His lips curled into a smile as he responded, "You could say that."
He paused, pretending to think deeply, then with an exaggerated air of contemplation, he said, "Ah... I forgive her, if that's what you're here for." His smirk widened as if the entire encounter were a joke to him.
The leader, however, didn't seem to find it amusing. His tone hardened, and his eyes narrowed. "You forgive her? You called her ugly. You damaged my ego."
Kūga's smile faltered for a second before he burst into a loud, mocking laugh, doubling over as if the statement had struck him as the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
His laughter echoed down the street, drawing the attention of nearby villagers, though no one dared approach.
The big man stood silent, allowing Kūga his moment. Once the laughter subsided, his expression remained deadly serious. "In this world, you must be careful who you offend. Unfortunately for you, you've offended me."
Kūga's eyes gleamed with mischief as he straightened himself, still smiling but with a sharper, more dangerous edge. "Be careful now," he said, his voice low. "Just as you said, be careful who you offend."
The leader tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his muscles flexing as the weapon slid off his back. He stepped forward, brandishing the blade with both hands, leveling it toward Kūga.
The tension in the air thickened for them, but Kūga's expression remained calm, still radiating a carefree attitude despite the looming threat.
"My name is Jirō Ikeda. Remember that name when you meet Kami."
Kūga yawned dramatically, clearly unimpressed. As Jirō readied himself, Kūga just stood there, waiting, looking utterly bored as the man continued his speech.
His eyes flicked over to the blade, noting its size and weight, but ultimately, it didn't concern him in the slightest.
When Jirō finally lunged forward, his sword raised to strike, Kūga didn't even blink. The blade came crashing down with all of the man's strength, aimed directly at Kūga's head. But just as the sword reached him, a shimmering barrier of Aether flickered into existence, stopping the attack cold.
The massive blade shattered on impact.
Jirō's eyes widened in shock as the sword he prided himself on snapped in two, the broken half falling to the ground with a loud clang.
His men stood frozen in disbelief, staring at the scene before them as if unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Kūga's smile returned, more amused than ever. "Well," he said with a lazy shrug, "the name's Kūga... and I definitely won't remember your name, Jinō Yamada." He waved his hand dismissively, clearly mocking the man's earlier introduction.
Before Jirō could respond, Kūga raised his hand. "Aether: Pushing a Weak Man," he said calmly, making the name up on the spot, the air around him barely rippling.
Jirō, still standing there in a daze, managed to stammer out, "That's not my na—"
He never finished the sentence.
A powerful, invisible force slammed into him with such strength that it sent him hurtling backward at incredible speed, crashing through the side of a nearby house with a thunderous impact.
The building's walls crumbled as his body smashed through them, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the structure.
Kūga blinked, looking at the damage with a faint smile of amusement. "Oops. That was a little too hard," he said casually. He glanced at the group of men still standing nearby, now staring in shock at the destruction their leader had caused.
Kūga scratched the back of his head and asked innocently, "Uh… who's house was that?"
One of the henchmen, still in a state of shock, stammered out, "T-that was Ikeda-sama's..."
"Ah, Jiho Tamaka's!" Kūga's smirk widened into a full grin. "Well then, no need to apologize!"
He waved dismissively and turned his gaze upward. With a light step, he floated into the air, hovering a few meters above the ground.
The men stared at him, their jaws hanging open in disbelief. Kūga flashed them a carefree smile, his voice light. "Bye now."
And with that, he took off, breaking the sound barrier with a deafening boom as he soared westward, disappearing into the sky within moments. The sonic boom sent a gust of wind across the village, rattling the houses and shaking the trees.
Jirō's henchmen stood frozen for what felt like minutes, their minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed.
Their leader, a man who had created peace between clans in this little village, their strongest warrior, had been defeated without Kūga even lifting a finger.
They snapped out of their stupor and ran toward the wreckage of the house, shouting Jirō's name as they dug through the rubble to pull him out.
His massive form lay amidst the debris, unconscious, his body bruised and battered from the impact.
As they lifted him up, one of the men leaned in close to check his breathing. Just as he did, Jirō groaned, barely conscious, muttering under his breath.
"...that's not my name…"