The white short blade, wrapped in Lightning-nature chakra, blazed so brightly it hurt to look at—so dazzling they could barely keep their eyes open…
Shisui and Itachi, off to the side, fought their curiosity. They wanted to watch, but they were terrified Roy would punish them. In the middle of that hesitation, Shisui sneaked another glance—and two more stones popped out of the basket.
"Two thousand more each."
The words were flat. Their curiosity was understandable. Their excitement was understandable. The only thing he couldn't forgive was how little focus they still had when they were supposed to be training.
Roy tossed that sentence out coldly and faced the lightning glow and the White Fang, studying the man in front of him.
As one of Konoha's "Eight Colors," on the same level of notoriety as the "Yellow Flash" Minato Namikaze, Hatake Sakumo had already been singled out by the leadership of every major village—orders that boiled down to this:
If you run into him, you're allowed to abandon the mission with no punishment.
That alone said everything about how dangerous he was.
Not to mention what the Book of the Warriors and the Book of Formations wrote—one calling the Sannin "nothing but a vague shadow" before Konoha's White Fang, the other stating outright that Hatake Sakumo surpassed them.
Facing someone like that…
Roy slowly drew his asauchi. It quivered with excitement, then let out a sharp, ringing cry.
His black hair lifted without wind. The tip of his blade pointed straight at Sakumo's throat as he said, lightly, "Should I call this an honor, White Fang uncle?"
"If my father hears about this, he'll probably scold me for not respecting you enough."
"You dare raise a blade at me—that's the highest respect there is." Sakumo held his knife in one hand. Lightning Release crawled along it; a thin strand seeped from the tip and punched a neat little hole into the ground.
The sight made Roy think of a boy with short blond hair—pure-hearted, timid, afraid of dying alone—who, under extreme stress, would slip into a half-awake state and command lightning, cutting down his senior to avenge his grandfather…
Zenitsu Agatsuma.
"It's coming." A streak of electricity flashed past, and with it came Sakumo's calm warning.
White Fang in hand, Sakumo turned into lightning. With Lightning Release stimulating his muscles and boosting his speed, he vanished—then was suddenly in Roy's face, slashing a fast cut at Roy's chest.
Sakumo was clearly holding back. If Roy were an enemy, that blade wouldn't be aimed at the chest—
It would be aimed at the neck.
"So fast!" Shisui swore he wasn't trying to disobey on purpose. His eyes flushed red as he activated his Sharingan, trying to track Sakumo's movement—
But the man was too fast. All Shisui could catch was a blur of lightning chakra, and then Sakumo was already out of his sightline. Shisui's hand trembled, and two more stones spilled.
"Itachi, two thousand more!"
Sakumo's voice followed right after Roy's, almost amused. "Splitting your attention like that… you're not focused either, kid."
Then—
Clink.
A crisp sound.
In a breath, blade met blade. Roy moved second but arrived first, raising his sword to block Sakumo's slash at exactly the right moment. Calm as ever, he said, "You're worrying too much, White Fang uncle. I can manage."
The exchange lasted only an instant—steel against steel, man against man.
Shisui felt a chill behind his head. Itachi was looking at him.
Shisui opened his mouth to apologize—only for Itachi to dump the entire basket of stones, sit down cross-legged, and turn himself into a spectator.
"Shisui, plus ten thousand!"
Eclipse shuddered—then turned red, ignited, and surged with a blaze like a miniature sun. In the same heartbeat, it forced White Fang back.
Roy's expression didn't change as he said it, not even turning his head. Shisui looked at Itachi, then at his own sword and basket… and finally gave up, sitting down beside Itachi.
Today, he wasn't going home on his feet. Even if his arms dislocated from fatigue, he wasn't going to miss this—an exchange of swordsmanship he might never get to see again in his life.
Flames rose high enough they made the sun overhead look dim.
Hatake Sakumo, White Fang in hand, answered with a surge of lightning bright enough to sting the eyes.
From above, red and white collided—an impact of presence alone, already enough to scatter the birds from the forest.
"Fire Release… and not ordinary fire."
Roy had already blown a hole through the academy wall with a single Fireball Jutsu. Sakumo had expected his Fire Release to be strong.
What genuinely surprised him was this—
That opening slash Sakumo had thrown out, even while holding back, had still been blocked by Roy's counter…
And Roy hadn't even activated his Sharingan.
Sakumo tightened his grip on White Fang and laughed—a bright, delighted laugh.
This was only the second time in his life someone had stopped him from winning with a single cut.
The first time was when Kazuya had blocked one strike for him long ago.
More lightning poured in. White Fang flared whiter still.
A breeze lifted Sakumo's white hair. He fixed his eyes on Roy, reversed his grip, and narrowed his gaze.
"You're not going to use your Sharingan?"
The Sharingan was the Uchiha's greatest weapon—observation, copying, hypnosis, chakra-flow perception, genjutsu casting and dispelling, and the ability to copy taijutsu and non–kekkei genkai ninjutsu.
Not using it meant giving up the Uchiha's biggest advantage.
"We're comparing swords, not eyes."
"And besides…" Roy held his blade in one hand and spun a clean, elegant flourish.
Then his eyes lit—two blazing suns.
In that moment, he was both Uchiha Ren and Kamado Roy—carrying two worlds. His wooden geta stepped forward—
And it was like New Year's in the Demon Slayer world again: the mountain, the house, the drifting snow; his father Tanjūrō dancing barefoot; Tanjiro following the rhythm; Nezuko, his mother Kie, Takeo, Shigeru, and little Hanako leaning into their grandmother…
Snow falling as they performed the Kagura together to celebrate the new year.
Roy re-gripped his blade. A long breath burst from his nostrils like twin streams of vapor—full of warmth and memory.
"I have the sword's eye," he said softly. "I don't need the Sharingan."
Eye That Shatters Illusion—activate!
The gaze born from the Transparent World ignited into a scorching red light. A delicate gray spread out from Roy's feet—stretching, stretching—
Until it swallowed Sakumo, Shisui, and Itachi whole.
When their awareness steadied and they looked around—
The green trees, the rocks, the birds, the clouds, the wind—
All of it was gone.
As if the world had been stripped of every color.
Only Roy… and the three of them remained, isolated outside reality itself.
Hatake Sakumo: "…"
Shisui: "…"
Itachi: "…"
For a moment, all three were completely speechless.
~~~
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