The moment Ren's words dropped into the clearing, the air froze in stunned silence.
Three armies had just completed a high-stakes resource exchange that could've tipped into war at any moment. Legends had arrived, Jinchuriki had walked free after being captured, fortifications had been negotiated.
And now…
The future Hokage of the Leaf was challenging the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki to a rap battle in an open field.
No one had prepared for this scenario, absolutely no one.
But the two people standing in the center of the clearing didn't seem to care.
Ren stood there with a lazy grin, sunglasses catching the light. Killer B looked back at him, one eyebrow raised.
Then slowly, very slowly, a grin began spreading across B's face.
The Cloud forces groaned in unison, they knew that expression.
"Ohhh!"
B cracked his knuckles lightly, stepping forward, boots grinding softly against the dirt like he was about to enter an arena instead of a diplomatic clearing.
"Yo, little Leaf kid, you got guts, I respect that vibe,
But you playin' with the master of the Eight-Tails tribe.
You grill good meat, sure, you flex real clean,
But you can't outrhyme the Raikage's rap machine!"
A few Cloud shinobi physically sagged.
Darui tilted his head back and stared at the sky.
'Why are you doing this to me,' he thought with deep exhaustion. 'This is worse than handing over millions of ryo to the Leaf.'
His eyes drifted sideways and he saw Itachi was also looking up at the sky.
The two locked eyes briefly then they shared the smallest, most dignified nod of mutual suffering.
Ren, meanwhile, grinned wider.
He rolled his shoulders once and actually began doing exaggerated hand motions, like he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.
"Machine? Nah, you glitchin', old rhythm outdated,
Your flow so predictable, it's practically narrated.
You talk 'bout tails, talk 'bout beast inside,
But I tamed whole borders while you were takin' pride."
A ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the Leaf side.
Killer B stepped closer, rolling his shoulders dramatically, as if warming up for a concert stage instead of neutral territory.
"Borders? Kid, that's paperwork fame,
I drop real heat, set the whole world aflame.
You strong with fists, I'll give you that spark,
But in a mic war? I hunt in the dark."
Ren snapped his fingers once, stepping into the rhythm without missing a beat.
"Dark? Please, you glow like a disco storm,
Lightning loud but your cadence deformed.
I don't need tails, don't need rage in my chest,
Just three fists in, puttin' legends to rest."
The Cloud line visibly shifted.
Some shinobi were mortified, others were biting their lips to avoid laughing.
Roshi stood off to the side, arms folded, watching with the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. He had lived long enough to see countless political tensions, yet even he had never seen this.
On the Leaf side, the reactions were equally split.
Some ANBU stood rigid, pretending none of this was happening. A few younger jonin were openly enjoying it, shoulders shaking.
Homura, however, looked like he had just aged five more years.
He turned slowly toward Itachi, face completely blank, and motioned subtly with his eyes toward Ren, an unmistakable "Bring him back. Now."
Itachi noticed, and then very deliberately pretended not to.
Homura's eye twitched.
He glanced around, hoping for support.
Every Leaf shinobi within sight suddenly found something extremely interesting to look at, cloud formations, distant hills, their own sandals.
A few genuinely wanted to escape.
A few were enjoying this far too much.
Darui lowered his gaze from the sky and rubbed his temple slowly.
This was absurd and yet, it wasn't hostile, there was no killing intent, no chakra flaring. Just two monsters testing each other in the safest battlefield available: rhythm, and yet, the tension of hostility had almost vanished. He looked at Ren thinking something and his eyes almost had a faint hint of approval.
B rolled his shoulders once more, clearly enjoying himself now. He lifted a finger toward Ren like he was conducting lightning.
"Okay, okay, you crazy Leaf spark,
Your mouth real reckless, your humor dark.
But when I drop bars, they shake the terrain,
My flow bring thunder, my voice bring rain!
You clever with tongue, I give you that props,
But I'm jinchuriki, I never get topped!"
A few Cloud shinobi straightened up at that line, pride briefly overriding embarrassment. That was their B, loud, unapologetic and untouchable.
Ren didn't hesitate.
He stepped forward half a pace, adjusting his sunglasses like he was about to close a deal instead of throw a rhyme.
"Never get topped? Bold declaration,
But I just climbed you with verbal elevation.
You Eight-Tails strong, yeah physical might,
But I just turned Cloud into open mic night.
You legend in rap? Sure, crown on your head,
But I'm that intrusive thought nobody said.
So take this L gentle, don't spark a dispute,
I ain't beat the Eight-Tails, I roasted the host, dude."
There was an audible ripple through both camps.
Even some Stone shinobi who had no stake in this were openly staring now.
Inside Killer B, the Eight-Tails shifted lazily.
'Hmph. The incompetence of my host should not reflect upon me.'
B just laughed harder.
"HAHA! Aight, Leaf boy, you bold, I'll give you that crown,
But I ain't losin' a duel in some border town.
Next time we meet, bring more than a stare,
I'll bring the thunder, split open the air!"
Ren raised both hands in exaggerated surrender, smirk wide.
"Deal, B. Next round, same stage,
But I'm still takin' the lyrical wage."
For a moment there was silence.
Then, expectedly, B threw his head back and laughed loudly, the sound booming across the clearing like actual thunder.
"HA! You crazy, Leaf brat. I like that!"
He stepped forward and extended his hand in a quick dap and Ren met it without hesitation.
The sharp clap of palm against palm echoed strangely clearly in the open field.
And just like that, the tension between three great villages dissolved into something almost absurdly normal.
Both Ren and B were openly grinning now, shoulders relaxed, no killing intent, no chakra flaring, just two monsters acknowledging each other in their own ridiculous way.
Homura finally snapped.
He stepped forward briskly, face composed but eyes sharp.
"That is quite enough."
At nearly the same time, Darui moved in from the Cloud side, expression tight with long-suffering patience.
He physically positioned himself between B and Ren.
"This concludes whatever that was," Darui muttered flatly.
Ren tried to lean around him with a grin. "C'mon, we were just-"
"Enough," Homura repeated.
B raised his hands innocently. "Yo, we peaceful, man!"
Darui shot him a look.
"You are a national asset," he said dryly. "Please act like one."
B snorted but allowed himself to be guided backward.
Across the clearing, formations began reforming properly, orders were issued, shinobi moved out in disciplined lines once more.
The three sides began returning to their respective territories.
But something had shifted.
The negotiations would be remembered, of course. The financial concessions, the border restrictions, the public acknowledgment. Scholars and tacticians would analyze it for years.
Yet, oddly, that wasn't what would spread fastest.
Word traveled quickly in the shinobi world.
By the time the delegations were halfway home, rumors had already begun to outrun them.
"Killer B challenged by a Leaf kid."
"Future Hokage spitting bars at the Eight-Tails."
"Border treaty ended with a rap battle."
Within weeks, it would become the most talked-about moment in recent shinobi memory.
For years, Killer B had reigned uncontested as the rap king of the shinobi world. His eccentricity was legendary. His confidence unshaken.
And now, a white boy from Konoha had stepped into the clearing and dared to challenge that crown.
This even caused Ren's old nickname to resurface, The Blue Menace of the Leaf.
Some used it mockingly, some used it admiringly, but everyone used it.
People began debating who had won. Some swore B still held the throne, others insisted Ren's sharp delivery had tipped the scales.
But more importantly, people were excited, not about war or retaliation, but about the next match and somewhere between the humiliation of resource loss and the tension of military standoffs, something rare had happened.
Three great villages had walked away from the brink, not with bloodshed or grudges sharpened, but with a story.
As Ren and Itachi walked back toward the Fire border, Ren adjusted his sunglasses once more.
"You think I edged him out?" Ren asked casually.
Itachi glanced at him.
"You were… adequate."
Ren scoffed. "Adequate?"
Itachi's lips curved faintly.
"For a white boy from the Leaf."
Ren burst out laughing.
~~~
Stone Village
Tsuchikage's Office
The air inside the Tsuchikage's office was heavy.
Onoki floated slightly above his seat, as he often did when thinking deeply, his old back refusing to tolerate too much time on solid ground. Kitsuchi stood near the large stone desk, arms folded, while Roshi leaned against one of the pillars carved directly into the chamber walls and Yuito sat on the chair.
Kitsuchi spoke first.
He explained everything in detail, how the joint deployment unfolded, how they had expected to test Ren's limits rather than fully commit, how quickly the situation spiraled out of control.
He described the moment Ren entered the battlefield, the speed, the overwhelming force. The way their formations collapsed like they had been predicted beforehand.
He did not exaggerate, he did not downplay, he simply recounted how Ren dismantled them.
Onoki listened without interruption, fingers steepled beneath his chin.
Then Yuito spoke, he described the aftermath, the negotiation posture, the calculated unpredictability, and finally… Roshi talked about the rap battle.
At that part, both Kitsuchi and Onoki's lips twitched involuntarily.
The absurdity of it did not erase the humiliation, but it did underline something important.
The boy was fearless.
Onoki finally exhaled slowly.
"The kid has gotten far too powerful in far too little time," he said quietly. "Even Minato was not this strong at twelve."
It was not praise but an assessment from a man who had seen too many of leaf's geniuses.
Roshi remained silent but Kitsuchi shifted slightly.
"There might still be opportunities-" Kitsuchi began.
Onoki raised a hand sharply.
"No."
The single word cut through the room.
"It is too late."
He floated down slightly, eyes narrowing.
"We have already lost the window to remove him quietly. When he was younger, before he consolidated influence, before he was named successor."
He shook his head faintly.
"It is highly unlikely we will get another such chance."
Kitsuchi's jaw tightened but Onoki continued.
"His strength is one problem. But it is not the main problem."
He looked directly at Kitsuchi now.
"He is too intelligent."
Kitsuchi blinked once.
Onoki's voice grew firmer.
"In negotiations, he played the fool, the reckless brat, the unstable fire."
He tapped the desk lightly.
"That was deliberate."
Yuito gave the faintest nod as Onoki's eyes sharpened.
"I have seen man like that before. The Second Hokage thought three steps ahead of everyone in the room, the boy thinks the same way, the blood really doesn't lie."
The room fell quiet.
"Do not be fooled by his theatrics," Onoki continued. "That was not madness, that was control."
Kitsuchi leaned back slightly, exhaling.
"You think he calculated even the rap battle?" he asked quietly.
Onoki snorted faintly.
"I think he calculated the tension relief. I think he understood that after such a heavy exchange, allowing hostility to linger would benefit no one. So he shifted the tone."
He paused.
"And he did it without losing dominance."
That was the part that bothered him. He had negotiated with Kage, he had fought in wars, he knew something was off when his gut told him.
Ren Senju did not behave like a child intoxicated by power. He behaved like someone who knew exactly how much power he held.
Onoki closed his eyes briefly.
"From this moment forward," he said slowly, "I am ordering the immediate removal of Ren Senju's bounty from the Stone side."
Kitsuchi looked up sharply.
"Father!"
Onoki's gaze hardened.
"He is far too dangerous for ordinary Stone forces. Sending hunters after him is not courage, it is suicide."
Kitsuchi fell silent.
Onoki floated slightly higher again, decision made.
"His physical strength is already approaching Kage-tier."
He looked at Roshi.
"His mind is worse."
Roshi gave a quiet hum of agreement.
Onoki waved his hand once and a Stone ANBU dropped from the ceiling, kneeling silently.
"Pull back Ren Senju's bounty immediately," Onoki ordered. "Effective today."
The ANBU bowed his head.
"Order our remaining spies within Konoha to distance themselves from him."
The ANBU nodded again.
Onoki hesitated only briefly before speaking the next sentence.
He hated it.
He had only said something similar once before in his life and that had been about Minato Namikaze.
"No Stone shinobi is to confront Ren Senju without direct authorization."
He took a slow breath.
"Issue a flee-on-sight directive for Ren Senju."
~~~~~
{Hehehehe, I wanted to do this for quite some time, and as I tick away the things I had always wanted to do in the fic, I am slowly realizing we're already half way done with the fic.
It's been over a year since I began writing this fic, and so many things happened, now that the first half is about to end, I've got some mixed feelings, mostly good though so don't worry.}
{Also, rewards soon.}