Minato's hand hovered near his kunai pouch, his sharp blue eyes locked onto the young man before him. Every instinct told him to remain cautious. This wasn't just some ordinary stranger.
And that feeling was only reinforced when the young man, noticing Minato's guarded stance, slowly raised his own hands into the same guarded stance Minato had.
At first, Minato thought he was performing a jutsu or perhaps getting ready to fight hand-to-hand, but instead, something far stranger happened.
From the young man's palms, two daggers began to grow.
The blades sprouted first, twisting out from his skin as if they had always been part of him. Vines coiled around the base, small white flowers blooming along the grip.
The blades themselves were not metal but wood, sharpened to a fine edge and gleaming in the dimming light, looking as though, they were made by the steady hand of a woodworker rather than the heavyhanded blacksmithers.
Minato's eyes widened ever so slightly. 'What the hell? Wood Style?'
He had only ever heard of one man who could wield such a technique, and that man had been dead for decades. The implications sent another sharp alarm through Minato's mind. If someone new had inherited such an ability, why had there been no whispers about it? No intelligence reports?
The young man smirked, twirling the wooden daggers between his fingers with a lazy ease, clearly unbothered by Minato's scrutiny. His bright green eyes shone with mischief, catching the light as he tilted his head slightly.
"You're staring pretty hard, blondie. If you're that interested, just ask. I promise I won't bite," he teased, his tone lighthearted, almost amused.
Minato let out a slow breath. 'Playful.' That was the first word that came to mind as he observed the stranger's demeanor.
Despite the tension between them, the red-haired young man didn't seem hostile. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying this.
Ever cautious but diplomatic, Minato slowly lowered his kunai and hands, though he didn't relax completely. "I've never met someone who could wield Wood Style before," he admitted, his voice calm but probing.
The young man, Arashi, as he introduced himself, grinned. "Yeah, figured that'd catch your attention, especially since you're a Leaf shinobi."
He spun one of his daggers before lazily pointing it toward Minato. "Before you ask, no, I don't belong to anyone. No village, no clan, no affiliation or anything, since that's all you shinobi seem to ever care about."
Minato's gaze remained steady. He didn't miss how Arashi had chosen his words carefully. No village. No allegiance.
"You say you don't belong to a village or anything," Minato replied smoothly. "And yet, you're inside of the land of fire's borders. A little weird for someone who claims no allegiance. So why are you here then?"
Arashi's smirk didn't falter. If anything, his grin widened as he reabsorbed one dagger into his hand while keeping the other resting casually in his palm. "Oh, you know," he said airily, "I just walk where the wind calls me."
Minato's lips twitched slightly at the odd phrasing. 'The wind calls me, huh? Either this guy is a poet or just has a strange way of looking at the world.' He didn't respond immediately, though. His instincts were sharp, honed by years of battle and leadership. And right now, they were telling him that Arashi wasn't lying, even if it felt like he was holding something back.
Their conversation, however, was cut short as 3 pulses of chakra popped up in the back of both Arashi and Minato's minds.
Minato's chakra sense flared a second before he heard it, branches snapping, hurried footfalls against the forest floor.
Both men turned their heads just in time to see a small squad of Iwa scouts emerging from the treeline. They hadn't seen Minato yet, their focus on something else, moving with urgency as if returning somewhere to relay information.
They burst forth into the clearing that both Minato and Arashi were standing in. The group, seeing the unmistakable color of Minato's hair, stopped and looked like deer in headlights. For a brief moment, there was silence.
To Arashi, their reaction upon seeing Minato was almost comical. Their eyes widened in unfiltered panic. One of them actually let out a strangled curse before immediately turning on his heel to run.
"Shit—! It's him! Go! GO!"
Panic exploded through the group as instinct took over. They all spun on their heels and immediately began retreating, terror clear in their frantic movements.
Minato narrowed his eyes. 'Iwa scouts? What are they doing this close to Konoha? They should be licking their wounds after being cut off at Kanabi Bridge.' His first instinct was to chase them down, but his attention flickered toward Arashi, watching for his reaction.
To his mild surprise, Arashi simply let out a low whistle. "Damn. I didn't expect them to turn tail that fast," he said, amused. "You must have made one hell of an impression on Iwa, huh, blondie?"
Minato didn't respond to the question. Instead, he considered his options. 'Iwa scouts near our borders mean trouble. But they shouldn't have the manpower or ability to launch another attack on our borders for the years to come. Could they?'
Arashi, meanwhile, flipped his dagger absentmindedly, watching Minato deliberate his next actions. "Well, this just got interesting," he mused. "Are you gonna chase them down, or are ya gonna stand here looking pretty?"
Minato's sharp gaze returned to Arashi. "You're surprisingly calm about all this."
Arashi shrugged. "I'm not the one they just ran from like their worst nightmare. That's you, my friend."
Minato sighed. There was no time to dissect the strange young man right now. "Just stay right here so I don't have to chase after you again."