The awakening of Gekkō Hayate's bloodline limit sent shockwaves through nearly the entire Gekkō clan. By evening, relatives and neighbors had all flocked to Hayate's house, freeloading a meal and indulging in food and drink.
Hayate's father, Gekkō Hoshishi, welcomed everyone warmly, carrying around a jug of homemade sake, pouring for anyone who would accept. Before long, he was dead drunk, sprawled across the floor, rambling nonsense.
Hayate's mother had passed away during childbirth, so once Hoshishi collapsed, his younger brother Gekkō Hoshino had no choice but to step up—taking over his brother's sake, not his son—and continue offering drinks to the guests.
Samukaze joined the crowd for a while, eating his fill at the Gekkō household, but the thick smell of alcohol soon overwhelmed him. Slipping away, he vaulted the wall and landed back in his own backyard.
The instant his feet touched the ground, Samukaze sensed something was wrong.
The houses of Hoshino and Hoshishi were right next to each other, their backyards separated by a single wall. Normally, the two yards flowed seamlessly together, but tonight… it felt like that wall was a boundary between worlds.
On one side, laughter and cheers—like a festival.On the other, silence deep enough to feel like the end of the world.
Samukaze's eyes widened. The joyous celebration next door seemed to fade, becoming faint, distant, slipping away from his reality. And then, like a thundercloud swallowing the moon, a shadow engulfed him whole.
"Your name?"
A raspy voice grated the air like stone grinding against stone. From the corner of Samukaze's backyard, a figure slowly emerged.
Samukaze's breath caught. The first thing he saw was a pair of hands, pale as carved jade, long slender fingers gleaming unnaturally bright against the darkness.
"I… I am—"
Samukaze raised his gaze further, meeting the sight of long, flowing black hair and a face half-hidden in shadow. The features were indistinct, but the eyes—those golden, vertical pupils—blazed like suns in the night sky, radiating a searing light no one could look at directly.
Orochimaru!!
Samukaze's heart thundered like a war drum. His blood surged into his head like a breaking flood, his consciousness spinning, unable to tell north from south.
"Answer my question…" Orochimaru's voice was soft, almost toneless, revealing no joy, anger, or intent.
"I… I am Gekkō Samukaze," he stammered, forcing himself to answer honestly. His heart pounded faster and faster, utterly beyond control.
Because he was terrified. The strange "cheat" ability he carried didn't feel like a golden finger at all in this moment—it was a ticking time bomb. If Orochimaru caught even the faintest hint of it, Samukaze's future would be nothing but a lifetime in that snake's laboratory.
But his reasoning told him one thing: Orochimaru wasn't here for him.
No—Orochimaru had come for Gekkō Hayate.Or more precisely, for Hayate's bloodline limit.
Samukaze drew a long breath, trying to steady himself. But instead of calming, his breathing grew ragged and desperate, like the death-throes of a drowning man. The deeper he breathed, the more erratic his heartbeat became.
Orochimaru's golden eyes slanted downward ever so slightly, watching him with faint puzzlement. He hadn't even released killing intent, yet the boy was trembling like a leaf.
So timid?The Gekkō clan truly was fading with each generation.
A low chuckle slipped from Orochimaru's lips. Then, without warning, he took a step back, and his form melted into the darkness—gone in an instant.
Gone?
Samukaze stumbled, nearly collapsing, and caught himself with his hands on his knees.
At that moment, the barrier seemed to lift, and the raucous celebration from Hayate's house came spilling back into his ears.
That was close. Too close.
Samukaze sucked in lungfuls of cool night air, trembling in the aftermath. Orochimaru had appeared before him without a shred of warning—he could have been snuffed out in an instant.
He turned to glance at Hayate's house, considering for a moment whether to warn them. But immediately he rejected the thought.
Orochimaru's appearance meant only one thing: he was interested in Hayate's bloodline limit. But once the hospital confirmed the exact type the next day, Orochimaru would lose interest. Life would continue on its normal path, without interference.
But if Samukaze sounded the alarm now, the Gekkō clan would undoubtedly raise their guard. And if that led to a clash with Orochimaru, or even reached the ears of the Third Hokage, then things could spiral into disaster. The snake's malice would be provoked, and that was the last thing Samukaze wanted.
No—the best choice was to act as though nothing had happened.
He told himself that, but inside, shame twisted in his chest.
In the end, it was survival of the fittest.If his strength were equal to Uchiha Madara's, Orochimaru wouldn't dare set foot on Gekkō territory.
Samukaze breathed in the cool night air once more, then staggered back into his bedroom. Collapsing onto his tatami mat, exhaustion consumed him, and he drifted into sleep.
When he opened his eyes again, it was morning.
Why was it so quiet outside?
Rising from the tatami, memories of the previous night returned, and his brow furrowed. He hurried into the backyard—empty. He circled through the house—still no one. Only when he reached the kitchen and found two freshly made rice balls in the pot did he finally breathe easier.
If something terrible had happened, his mother wouldn't have had the mood to make rice balls, right?
Still…Why rice balls again?!
With a look of pure disdain, he shoved the seaweed-wrapped, sesame-dusted rice ball into his mouth, gulped it down, and dashed into the backyard. After a moment's hesitation, he clambered over the wall—doggy-style climbing, no less—and dropped into Hayate's yard.
"Big brother!!"
A cheerful, high-pitched voice rang out.
Samukaze turned, just in time to see little Gekkō Hayate sprinting toward him on short, stubby legs. Under the morning sun, his grin shone with the innocence of a six-year-old boy.
Samukaze knew his little brother would be fine, but seeing him with his own eyes finally eased the tension in his chest. He asked, "Hey, little brother, are you home alone?"
"Father went to the hospital," Hayate replied.
"Oh. Then it's fine. See you."
Samukaze promptly turned and started climbing back over the wall—no, flipping over it.
"Big brother, big brother, let's practice swordsmanship together!" Hayate darted over, tugging on Samukaze's sleeve, eyes wide with eager anticipation.
Samukaze hesitated. With no older boys at home to "collect" from, going back meant nothing but more sleep. Spending time here with Hayate would not only strengthen their bond but also improve his chances of gathering something useful.
"…Fine. Let's practice together." Samukaze grinned. "Little brother, once you've mastered the Konoha-ryū sword style, you have to promise to teach me, okay?"
"Mm-hmm! I will," Hayate nodded earnestly, like a pecking chick.
"And don't forget—you've got to pass down your bloodline limit too." Samukaze leaned in, coaxing further.
Hayate, being six years old, frowned seriously. "But… big brother, I don't think bloodline limits can be—"
Samukaze cut him off in mock outrage: "I can't believe you'd say that, Gekkō Hayate! Get out of my house! Don't ever show your face again!"
"…Big brother, this is my house," Hayate said, deeply aggrieved.
"Fine. Then I'll leave!"
"Wait, wait! Big brother, don't go! Practice with me!" Hayate pleaded, panicked.
"Then will you pass me your bloodline limit?" Samukaze threatened.
Hayate nodded frantically. "Y-yes! I will! I'll pass it to you!"
A wicked grin spread across Samukaze's face, the look of someone who had just swindled the world.
Heh heh heh.
(End of Chapter)