The Senju compound's training yard buzzed with tension as Kenta Madoka and Kushina Uzumaki faced off, their voices clashing like thunder.
"You're a dessert-stealing troll!" Kenta bellowed, fingers twitching at his sides. "And you're a drooling noble pig!" Kushina fired back, fists clenched.
Their shouting drew a crowd—Senju retainers, servants, and curious kids spilling out from the wooden halls, forming a loose ring around the yard. Whispers rippled through the onlookers as they caught sight of Kenta, his dark hair and sharp features sparking recognition.
An elderly man with a limp nudged his companion, squinting. "That's Retsu's boy, isn't it? Kenta, right? Kami, he's a spitting image—mini version of him, down to that cocky grin." His voice cracked with emotion, eyes misting over.
A woman beside him, her hair streaked with gray, nodded solemnly. "Heard he joined the academy—Retsu's blood runs thick, alright. Could've lived plush as a noble, but here he is, itching for a fight. Just like his old man."
A younger Senju, barely out of his teens, wiped a tear with a sleeve. "Retsu san would be proud—crazy bastard loved the battlefield more than his fancy estate. Remember that time he punched a bandit chief so hard the guy flew into a tree? Laughed his ass off after, said it was 'good exercise.'" The crowd chuckled through sniffles, the memory bittersweet. "Yeah," the old man added, "and then he'd drag us all to the tavern, buying rounds 'til we couldn't stand. Said a comfy life was for quitters—guess the kid's got that fire too."
Their teary reminiscing turned the yard into a mix of laughter and sobs, a small funeral for a man long gone but clearly not forgotten.
Kenta, oblivious to the nostalgia fest, kept glaring at Kushina, who was mid-rant about his "squashed dumpling face."
Two figures emerged from the main hall, silencing the chatter.
An old woman strode forward, her red hair faded to a silvery pink, her posture regal despite the years. Beside her trailed a blonde bombshell, arms crossed and scowling like she'd rather be anywhere else. Mito Uzumaki, wife of the First Hokage, and Tsunade, her granddaughter, had arrived.
The Senju parted like water, bowing slightly as Mito's sharp eyes swept the scene. She zeroed in on Kushina, her sweet smile laced with a deadly edge that made the air feel heavy.
"Kushina Uzumaki," Mito said, her voice soft but cutting, "why are you shouting like a fishwife in the market? And cursing, no less? Have I not told you a hundred times to mind your manners, young lady?"
Kushina froze, her bravado evaporating. "Uh—Great-Aunt Mito—I, uh, he started it, ya know!" She jabbed a finger at Kenta, who seized the moment like a lifeline. Grinning ear to ear, he puffed out his chest.
"Yeah, you tell her, old lady! Teach this red-headed goblin not to mess with the great Kenta Madoka, noble prodigy extraordinaire!"
The yard went dead silent. Mito's gaze swiveled to Kenta, her sweet smile twisting into a glare that could melt steel. "And you, young man—who are you calling old? Did that little brat who calls himself Daimyō of the Land of Fire not teach you any manners? I would have to march to the capital and box his ears myself—see if he's still too big for his britches!"
Kenta's grin faltered, his arrogance stumbling under her stare. "H-Hey, I didn't mean—uh—" He floundered, then smirked, recovering fast as he figured out this woman's identity.
"Grandpa'd probably cry if you showed up—'Oh no, Mito-sama's here to spank me!' He's terrified of strong women, you know!" The crowd snickered, picturing the Daimyō quaking before tiny Mito, who huffed, unimpressed.
"Terrified or not, I'd have him over my knee faster than you can blink, boy," she retorted, wagging a finger. "And you'd do well to watch your tongue—noble or not, I've tamed worse brats than you!" Tsunade snorted behind her, muttering, "She's not kidding—Grandpa used to hide when she got mad." The Senju cringed collectively, half-laughing, half-wincing at the mental image.
Kenta, never one to back down, decided to flex his sensing trick mid-scolding. 'Let's see what this old bat's packing,' he thought, letting his sensory chakra flare out toward Mito.
He'd honed it since awakening it—sharp, instinctive—but he'd never scanned a legend before. Big mistake. The moment his senses brushed her chakra, it hit him like a tidal wave. Immense, bottomless, a roaring furnace of power dwarfed only by the monstrous, feral pulse beneath it—the Nine-Tails, coiled and seething. His brain short-circuited, senses overloading in a flash of red and black. Blood gushed from his nose, his knees buckled, and he hit the ground with a pathetic thud, clutching his head.
The crowd gasped, Kushina yelped, "What the—?!" and Tsunade blinked, startled. Mito's glare softened into surprise, then amusement.
She stepped closer, peering down at him as he groaned, blood dripping onto the dirt. "Ah, a natural sensor, eh?" she said, chuckling. "Did no one teach you it's rude to stare at a lady—especially one so young and spry, a single widow like me? Hahaha!" Her laugh boomed out, loud and unrestrained, a dead ringer for Hashirama's goofy guffaws.
The Senju flinched, faces twisting into awkward grimaces—some cringed, others coughed, and a few muttered, "Oh, kami, that's why they got together."
Kenta, still on his knees, wiped his nose with a sleeve, his mind reeling. 'Young?! Single widow?! She's a fossil with a monster in her gut!' he thought, half-dazed, half-horrified.
'That chakra—it's like a volcano ate a hurricane! No wonder she's nuts—Hashirama must've married her 'cause she'd laugh him into submission!' He staggered to his feet, pride bruised but intact, muttering, "Lady, you're a walking natural disaster—respectfully."
Tsunade, arms still crossed, smirked at her grandmother's antics, but her thoughts churned. 'Young and spry? Single widow? She's delusional—she's pushing eighty five and cackles like a lunatic!' She glanced at Kenta, then Mito, shuddering.
'No wonder Grandpa Hashirama stuck with her—they're both insane. This kid's dumb enough to poke her, though—hope he's ready to lose a few teeth.' She almost pitied him—almost.
Mito clapped her hands, the sound sharp enough to snap everyone back to attention. "Right, then! What's this nonsense about a duel? Kushina, Kenta—explain yourselves before I decide you're both too rowdy for your own good!"
Kushina straightened, puffing out her chest. "He's a jerk who tried to steal my mochi, ya know! I challenged him to a duel 'cause he's too big for his noble britches!"
Kenta scoffed, brushing dirt off his knees. "Steal? I'd never stoop so low—she's a savage who ate it to spite me! I'll thrash her to prove my superiority—noblesse oblige, old la—er, Mito-sama!"
Mito's eyes twinkled with mischief, her glare gone. "Mochi, hmm? You two are fighting over sweets like babies? Fine—duel it out, but I'm watching. No funny business, or I'll tie you both to a tree and lecture you 'til sundown!" She laughed again—"Hahaha!" —and the Senju winced in unison, a collective "Oh no, not again" written on their faces.
Kenta grinned, claws flexing subtly. "Bring it, Red—I'll punch you into next week under Mito-sama's legendary gaze!" Kushina cracked her knuckles, smirking. "You're toast, noble toad—I'll pound you flat, ya know!"
The crowd buzzed, torn between amusement and nostalgia. "Retsu's kid's got his spark," the old man murmured, teary again. Tsunade sighed, pinching her nose, while Mito stood tall, grinning like a proud, slightly unhinged matriarch.
-------Author Notes-------
Thankyou hodor_hodor_hodor and Eric for supporting me!
Y'all can read 15 extra chapters of the novel on my pat*reon. It would also motivate me to write more and well pay for my tuition. But I would continue to write with or without you joining my pat*reon. Your support even here on Webnovel means a lot! Thankyou!
https://pat*reon.com/BoogieWoogie266
[No star]