*Gulp~*
Ryuuji swallowed hard, his throat dry. The gulp echoed louder in his head than it had in reality. His imagination spiraled as he pictured himself mastering the legendary Flying Thunder God Technique. The possibilities were endless: teleporting across battlefields, saving allies at the last second, or defeating enemies before they even knew what hit them. It was like the stories he used to watch in the movies—he could become the hero who always arrived just in time.
The thought made his heart race.
"But, Grandfather," Ryuuji asked, curiosity mingling with awe,
"If you don't mind me asking... how did you learn the Flying Thunder God Technique? Were you a disciple of the Second Hokage?"
"Huh? Me?" Jima barked out a dry laugh, one that carried more mockery than amusement. "A disciple of that man?" His expression twisted into one of disdain, his tone dripping with contempt. "Don't make me laugh, boy. Even if that so-called 'genius' begged me to become his disciple, I would've refused outright."
Ryuuji blinked, startled by the vehemence in his grandfather's voice. "Why, though? The Second Hokage was a genius, right? He invented so many incredible jutsu."
Jima's eyes narrowed, his face hardening like stone. "A genius, yes. But he was also the King of Discrimination! It's because of him and his twisted ideas that the Uchiha Clan has been treated like criminals by Konoha's higher-ups. You may have learned about his accomplishments in the Academy, but the truth? That man was no friend to the Uchiha."
The bitterness in Jima's tone hung heavy in the air, and Ryuuji hesitated before speaking again. "If you weren't his disciple," he ventured cautiously, "then how did you learn the Flying Thunder God Technique?"
Jima's sharp gaze shifted to his grandson, and a sly smile crept onto his lips. "Isn't it obvious? I stole the scroll detailing the jutsu."
Ryuuji's jaw dropped, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. "Wait, you... stole it? The Flying Thunder God Technique? How? No, wait a second..." His voice trailed off as his mind raced. A distant memory from the Academy surfaced, something he'd heard from his classmates. He stared at his grandfather, his expression turning to one of shock and awe.
"Grandpa..." Ryuuji's voice was barely a whisper. "Are you... the Great Robber of Darkness?"
Jima raised an eyebrow, then tilted his head back in thought. "Great Robber of... oh!" A spark of recognition lit up his face. "That's what they started calling me after I... borrowed some scrolls a few decades ago. Hah! I'd almost forgotten about that." His expression softened into one of nostalgia, as though recalling a fond memory.
'Didn't you just say you stole the Flying Thunder God Technique?' Ryuuji thought.
Ryuuji, on the other hand, was anything but calm. "W-what!? You mean to say it was you who stole all those jutsu scrolls?"
"Yes," Jima said, completely unfazed.
"And not just from Konoha, but from the Hidden Cloud as well!?"
"Yes," Jima repeated, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.
"Why would you do that?" Ryuuji's voice cracked slightly, his disbelief rising with each word.
Jima leaned back against a tree, crossing his arms as though settling in for a story. "It's simple. I wanted to learn more and grow stronger. But the Uchiha Clan's knowledge could only take me so far. I needed to expand my horizons, and unfortunately, the best jutsu weren't just lying around. So, I decided to... borrow a few from Konoha and Kumogakure."
Ryuuji sighed deeply, massaging his temples. "Borrow. Sure, let's call it that." He paused, then looked back at Jima with renewed determination. "Okay, I have another question."
Jima groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You and your endless questions are going to drive me mad."
"Well, it's not my fault you've done so many dubious things!" Ryuuji shot back.
"Dubious?" Jima snorted. "It wasn't dubious. I merely borrowed a few things. Now, out with your question."
Ryuuji shook his head, muttering something under his breath before speaking. "Fine. Is it also true that the Great Robber Of Darkness a.k.a. you fought the Third Raikage head-on?"
As a fan of the original series he always wondered how strong was the Third Raikage. After all, The Third Raikage was the strongest Kage in the Cloud Village's history, who boasted the feat of taking on an entire army of 10000 shinobi all by himself. Although, he died in that battle.
'Honestly, I found the Third Raikage stupid for trying to take on an entire army by himself when he could've just escaped using his Lightning Release Chakra Mode.' Ryuuj thought to himself.
"Oh, that?" Jima said, his lips curling into a smirk. "Yeah, I fought him. He tried to stop me when I was... uh... borrowing Kumogakure's scrolls."
Ryuuji's eyes lit up with a mix of awe and curiosity. "How strong was he? I mean, he's supposed to be the strongest shinobi Kumogakure ever produced, right?"
Jima's smirk faltered slightly, his expression darkening as his mind drifted back to the past. "Hmm... not half bad," he said after a moment. "But I expected more, considering his reputation. Haah..." He sighed, his eyes clouding with memory.
***
Decades Ago,
The battlefield was alive with tension. The Third Raikage stood tall, his imposing figure radiating raw power. His voice boomed like thunder.
"You!" the Raikage barked, his piercing gaze locked onto the masked intruder. "Return those scrolls this instant! Do so, and I promise to grant you a swift death."
The cloaked figure didn't flinch. Dressed in black robes and an oni mask that concealed his features, he stood as still as a shadow. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, calm, and steady.
"Look, I don't want to kill you all. I'm just borrowing these scrolls. Once I've learned what I need, I'll return them. But if you don't back off..." His voice dropped an octave, his tone turning icy. "I'll send you home, like meat in plastic bags—and I might just keep the scrolls."
The crowd erupted in outrage.
"Hah! This fool thinks he can take us all on!"
"Arrogant bastard!"
"You're going to die here!"
"This place will be your grave!"
"You think you can take all 300 of us? Even if you can, we have the Raikage with us! You can't escape!"
"What you gonna do, you dickhead!?"
The tension in the air was palpable as the shinobi drew their weapons, the circle around the masked man tightening.
"Enough!" the Raikage's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. His subordinates fell silent, their gazes turning toward their leader. The Raikage stepped forward, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the cloaked figure. "This is your last chance. Hand over the scrolls. You are surrounded, outnumbered, and reinforcements are on their way. Surrender."
The figure tilted his head slightly, as though considering the offer before speaking.
"Hmm... Nah... I don't want to. Although, I do agree the size of the crowd has increased. How about we-" Then, in an instant, he disappeared, leaving behind only a faint gust of wind.
"Where is he!?" one of the shinobi shouted, panic creeping into his voice.
"Find him!" another yelled.
The Raikage's eyes narrowed as his senses strained. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a voice spoke, low and deliberate, from directly behind him.
"How about we... go somewhere quieter? Just the two of us."
The cloaked figure's hand touched the Raikage's shoulder, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished.
***
A/N: The MC might seem childish for now, but he will mature as time goes by, so be patient.