"This is-!"
His face became deathly pale as the realisation dawned on him.
It had been only a brief encounter, but it was far more than enough to make a lasting impression on him.
At least a hundred shinobi wiped out, all by a single shinobi who stood unscathed, her hair and clothes barely even ruffled at all. The only reason this particular straggler survived was because the Uzumaki clan member had been called back.
During the entire scuffle, she had not even released a single ninjutsu, genjutsu, or used taijutsu or kenjutsu of any kind. The only thing she used was sealing techniques, the signature and revered, the legendary Uzumaki sealing techniques.
Her hands had been forming the exact same sign, the 'ram' sign.
The invisible force pressing down on him felt symmetrical, perhaps even harder and harsher than the former. It was compelling him, forcing him to stay where he was, even as his muscles and bones ached in tension as he was stuck in a bending position.
"I-It's just another brat! I can handle you no problem!"
"Tch, you really do like calling people 'brats',"
The nuke-nin's eyes contracted, cold sweat rolling down like rain on a spring day, as memories from past battles resurfaced.
"Tch, stop calling everyone brats."
Both of their voices overlapped, and he started comparing the two; the same cold look, the same annoyed expression, the same click of a tongue.
More sweat dripped down his back, staining his shinobi uniform along with it.
"Now tell me, were you going to hurt my little brother?"
"W-who?"
"Stop stuttering! The one with brown hair and eyes, wearing the dark teal top," Akira snapped, irritation lining every inch of his tone.
His killing intent flooded out like a river breaking the dam, causing both him and Katsuo to flinch.
"Akira-san?"
Only now could Katsuo realise who the new-comer was. Through the blur and pain, he could see faintly the blonde hair and brown eyes his own student shared.
Even though he was older than Akira by several years, he had became jonin sooner than him, and was surely more talented. His name wasn't unknown exactly, being Konoha's royalty, but his lineage wasn't the only thing that spread his fame.
Akira had talent beyond his understanding. So young, yet so talented, and in many subjects as well.
Ninjutsu? Don't make me laugh - he made one when he was five.
Taijutsu? Ask the ninja who he personally 'trained'.
Kenjutsu? Years of training with Sakumo had certainly paid off.
Fuuinjutsu? Even Mito was surprised at his talent in this.
He had no shortage in iryoninjutsu either. The only aspect he was mediocre in was genjutsu, but you couldn't all be winners right? In short, he was almost perfect in all parts.
"Katsuo-san. I'm sorry for being so late in response to your signal."
"As for this guy..."
"How would you like your death?"
"Slow and painful," he paused, a dark smile stretching over his face, "or non-lethal and torturous?"
Two types of deaths, same in meaning, different in words. Now pick your poison.
.
.
.
How could someone so young, be so cruel and unfeeling?
Katsuo thought, his conscious barely awake, the surroundings a blur.
But the gruesome, bloody, and absolutely inhumane scene was etched deep into his memory.
"Katsuo-san."
A clear and somewhat cheerful voice woke him up, a stark contrast to the previously ruthless tone from before.
"You're hurt, I apologise for taking to long."
"Ah, it's okay. Just a few cuts and scrapes, that's all."
'Understatement of the year, no, the century,' Akira rolled his eyes and replied dryly, though internally, obviously.
"Nope, you have several lacerations and is suffering severe chakra depletion, are you not? Let me treat you, if you don't have receive immediate medical attention, you might really die!"
Akira smiled and clapped his hands with that still cheery and happy smile.
"U-uh, okay?"
Katsuo didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.
A faint dark green glow appeared on his hands as he started to expertly heal every wound. Though he had healed him, a lack of chakra made the regeneration speed slower than usual.
So Akira had to transfer his own chakra to Katsuo, and thanks to his huge reserves, this was easy enough.
"I need to transfer my own chakra into your body, so please don't resist if you feel unfamiliar chakra enter alright?"
After a nod of confirmation, Akira proceeded.
Katsuo discovered the foreign chakra in his system in no time, being a jonin adept in sensing.
It felt...unexpectedly...
...warm.
As strange as it might sound, his chakra felt like a mother's loving and passionate embrace.
It reminded Katsuo of his own mother, a kind and caring kunoichi who passed in the line of duty years ago.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Tears flowed out of his eyes, not like the heavy rain, but like the morning dew dripping off the leaves.
"Kaa-san...I'm sorry..." he murmured, moving closer to the stunned Akira, trying to hug the medic.
'Well...this was unexpected.'
Akira chuckled softly, returning the embrace, and though he felt slightly awkward at the notion of a grown man clinging onto a teenage boy several years his junior, he did not reject the hug.
"There, there...it's alright," Akira comforted him, awkwardly patting the older man's shoulder.
.
.
.
"Um...please don't talk about what just happened to anyone."
"Also...I've been meaning to ask, is there any special training methods you use?"
"Special training methods?"
Katsuo fidgeted around, acting like an embarrassed middle school girl, with a blush on his face.
"You're so much younger than me, but also so much stronger. I'm your brother's teacher, so I hope I don't embarrass myself."
"Eh?"
Akira looked at him with utter confusion.
"Special training methods?"
He repeated again, but this time with more clarity.
"Well, I guess some people are just built different."
A smirk rose to his face this time, taunting and teasing the poor, flustered jonin.
"..."
.
.
.
.
By the time Akira and Katsuo got back to Konoha, Nawaki and the others had already reported the news to the Hokage.
They all had sombre expressions on their faces, as they came to the conclusion that no matter how powerful their sensei was, almost no one could stand a chance against fifty over shinobi, four of whom were most likely jonin as well.
In reality, it was already incredibly impressive that Katsuo slew them all but one, who was the strongest of the entire group of nuke-nin.
Coincidentally, their path coincided with Akira's and their sensei's, resulting in shock and delight.
"Katsuo-sensei!"
Almost immediately, the injured shinobi was literally pounced at, making his already weary bones crack even more.
"Get off me! I'll have to use a cane to walk if you continue squashing me like that!"
"Hahahaha, we're just glad you're alright!"
"Ahem!"
Akira, feeling left out, cleared his throat, effectively garnering the attention of the three genin, with Nawaki the most attentive.
"Nii-chan? What are you doing here?"
Nawaki noticed him first, relieving the suffering Katsuo of one burden.
"What am I doing here? I'm the one who saved your sensei, Nawaki."
"Akira-san."
The other two genin greeted him respectfully.
Though neither one knew him personally or met him before, his name wasn't exactly unknown to the upper echelons of shinobi society.
"Really? Thank you nii-chan!"
Nawaki beamed like the little ball of sunshine he was.
Faced with such pure innocence, Akira reached out to ruffle Nawaki's brown tousles up even more.
After hesitating a while, and remembering his little brother's usual complaints, Akira held back and simply settled for a head pat instead.
'Ah, it's really hard to resist the urge, but he won't forgive me this time because his friends are here..."
Still, Akira really couldn't go against his wishes.
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Words ~ 1303
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