Chapter 78: A Test of Blades
The following day, a dejected Uchiha Yorito departed for Konoha, his spirit broken more thoroughly than his leg. The scornful and pitying looks from his own clansmen and the other shinobi had been the final, unbearable weight.
Meanwhile, Uchiha Jinno's fractured wrist and leg had been treated by the medical-nin, but they were far from healed. He had assumed, perhaps naively, that their new captain would at least wait for him to recover before throwing them into the fire.
He was wrong.
Less than a day after their "assignment," Kagenori summoned the four of them. He held a mission scroll in his hand, his expression unreadable.
"I've accepted a mission for our team," he announced without preamble. "We are to hunt down a Cloud-nin squad. Reconnaissance indicates roughly ten enemies. Their strength is not exceptional—approximately half are Chunin-level, the other half Genin. There is no full Jonin, at most one Tokubetsu Jonin among them."
He let the numbers hang in the air for a moment, watching their reactions. "I intend to use this mission to evaluate your capabilities. I expect each of you to give your full effort."
Uchiha Kyosuke and the others exchanged uneasy glances. Ten enemies? Half of them Chunin? This was not a simple reconnaissance or skirmish; it was a small-scale battle, and they were being sent in with a crippled teammate.
Uchiha Jinno looked down at his heavily bandaged limbs, his face pale. "Captain... my injuries..."
Kagenori's gaze was like shards of ice. "Your injuries are not an excuse. You brought them upon yourself. On the battlefield, you fight whether you are injured or not. A broken bone is not a valid reason to shirk your duty."
Jinno's mouth opened, then closed. There was no point in arguing. The decision was absolute.
"Return to your posts and prepare. We assemble here in one hour to depart." Kagenori's tone brooked no further discussion.
The four Uchiha shuffled away, their morale lower than when they had arrived.
Kagenori leaned against a tree, closing his eyes to wait out the hour. A short time later, the sound of deliberate, heavy footsteps approached. He didn't need to look to know who it was.
The footsteps stopped directly in front of him. Kagenori opened one eye, then closed it again, a silent dismissal.
"Kagenori," Uchiha Kazuo's voice was low and thick with suppressed fury. "I am warning you. Do not go too far. You are only here temporarily. Sooner or later, you will have to return to Konoha."
This time, Kagenori opened both eyes, a faint, taunting smile gracing his lips. "Oh? Please, finish your thought. What happens when I return to Konoha? Will the mighty Uchiha clan seek their vengeance, just as Yorito promised? I'm truly terrified of the 'first clan's' retribution. Would you like to see me kneel and beg for mercy? To plead with you to ask your clan to spare me?"
Uchiha Kazuo's face flushed a dark, mottled red. The sarcasm was a lash against his pride.
The smile vanished from Kagenori's face, replaced by an unnerving stillness. "Do you truly believe I fear Uchiha vengeance? If I did, would I have broken your clansmen in front of the entire camp?" He took a step forward, his voice dropping to a contemptuous whisper. "It seems to me that within the Uchiha clan, aside from Fugaku who possesses a modicum of intelligence, the rest of you are mentally deficient. No wonder the clan decays, blind to its own precarious position, still drunk on past glories and looking down on everyone else."
He paused, letting the insult sink in. "No, wait. It wasn't even your own glory, was it? It was the fading echo of Uchiha Madara's power. And what was Madara? A loser. He co-founded Konoha with the Shodaime, only to be defeated by him and slink away in disgrace. And you Uchiha? You betrayed him. You chose to stay. You call me a traitor's son, a future defector, but it seems to me you are the traitors—a whole clan of them, gathered together."
"You—!" Kazuo spluttered, rage choking his words.
"Spare me," Kagenori cut him off, his tone weary and dismissive. "I haven't the time for this. The more you threaten me here, the more I will take it out on those four, twofold. Or perhaps you'd prefer to settle this now? That's a fine idea. Defeat me, and perhaps you can have your men back. I'd also like to see what a Uchiha Jonin is truly made of. Whether he's trash, like the rest."
He looked Uchiha Kazuo up and down, his expression one of pure scorn. "So... what will it be? Uchiha's useless Jonin?"
Uchiha Kazuo's fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He could feel the eyes of the camp on them. He knew this was a provocation, a trap. To attack a fellow Konoha shinobi, a captain no less, was a court-martial offense.
He fought for control, his body trembling with the effort.
Kagenori's sneer was the final straw. "All talk. You don't have the spine to act. Is this the Uchiha? A clan of blusterers? It's a joke that such a clan is called Konoha's strongest. Get out of my sight. You're an embarrassment."
That was it. The dam broke.
"BASTARD!" Uchiha Kazuo roared, his pride shattering under the relentless insults. "The Uchiha clan is not something a cast-off like you can insult!"
Crimson bloomed in his eyes, three tomoe spinning with violent intent. He lunged forward, a furious uppercut aimed at Kagenori's jaw.
Kagenori was already moving, his body blurring with a Shunshin that carried him several feet back. Kazuo's fist connected with the tree trunk behind where Kagenori had been standing, leaving a deep impression in the bark.
Kagenori brushed a non-existent piece of lint from his flak jacket. "So, there is some backbone after all. I retract my comment about you being spineless. But I'm still undecided on whether you're trash."
His own eyes flashed, the twin tomoe of his Sharingan activating with a predatory gleam.
Uchiha Kazuo's hands flew through a sequence of seals. Kagenori, his Sharingan copying and predicting the movements, mirrored them perfectly.
"Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!" (Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique)
Almost in unison, both shinobi spat forth a volley of small, guided fireballs that shot towards each other like a flock of enraged sparrows. The air filled with the sizzle of flame and the smell of ozone. Using the enhanced perception of the Sharingan, they weaved and dodged through the fiery hail, a deadly dance of evasion.
With a snarl, Uchiha Kazuo drew a kunai. In response, Kagenori's ninjato slid from its sheath with a soft, metallic ring.
They charged at the same instant. The clash of steel against steel was sharp and clear, sparks flying as kunai met ninjato in the center of the clearing, the unresolved hatred between a clan and its outcast finally igniting into open conflict.