Moonlight Hayate stiffened as the words echoed in his mind.
Only moments earlier, he felt shame for being startled by a child.
Now he forced himself to breathe, regaining his usual calm expression.
He had almost lost his composure in front of a kid.
"Ridiculous…" he muttered inside.
But outwardly, he forced his tone back to its original firmness.
"So what?" Hayate asked sharply. "Whether you fear disaster or not, whether life or death means anything to you… that's not the point."
"In the end, I just want to buy your sword. It benefits both of us."
He took a small step forward, trying to sound logical—convincing—steady.
"It's good for you, good for me. There's no harm in it."
Uchiha Souji smiled faintly.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he lifted the Third Generation Demon Blade and held it horizontally, pointing the tip toward the ceiling.
His voice was calm, almost gentle.
"Then let the demon sword choose."
Those words did not just shock Hayate—they stunned the demon sword itself.
Inside Souji's mind, the sword spirit screamed:
"WAIT—what are you doing?! Didn't we just agree? Sell me, let me play with this sickly man for a while, kill him if I feel like it, and then I'll come back! That's a win-win! Don't you understand win-win? Do you even know who Qin Shi Huang is?!"
Souji ignored the nonsense.
The sword spirit touched its misty head, confused about who Qin Shi Huang even was—but decided that wasn't important.
Souji rose to his feet slowly.
Hayate frowned.
"What do you mean 'let the sword decide'? A sword can't—"
Souji raised a hand to silence him.
"Oh, a sword can decide," he said with a mysterious calm. "You just need to use the right method."
He smiled lightly.
And then—
Souji tossed the demon sword gently into the air.
Everyone in the room froze.
The blade rotated slowly, spinning silently under the ceiling light.
A perfect arc.
A perfect fall.
Then Souji extended his right arm—
and placed it directly under the falling blade.
A collective gasp filled the room.
Moonlight Hayate's face lost all color.
"This brat… is insane!"
Blocking a descending demon sword with his bare arm—
For a gamble?!
For theatrics?!
This was madness.
Fugaku narrowed his eyes.
Kakashi's fingers tightened around his tea cup.
Even the silent Uchiha Itachi's breath caught.
All eyes were fixed on the spinning blade.
Inside Souji's mind, the demon sword spirit cackled in delight.
"YES! YES! I'M GOING TO CUT IT! CUT IT! I'm going to slice that arm off!"
It laughed like a lunatic.
"You'll never be a ninja after this! You'll be helpless! You'll die in some ditch! Perfect!"
But Souji remained expressionless.
"Then cut," he said calmly in his heart.
The demon sword froze internally.
"WHAT—?! If I cut you, you'll become useless! A cripple! Do you even understand how dangerous this world is?! Haven't you been training so hard? Doesn't that mean you're trying to avoid something?!"
Souji didn't answer.
The sword spirit grew angrier.
"You're bluffing! You're afraid! You must be! You can't really let me—"
The spinning blade grew closer, closer…
The demon sword howled:
"I'LL DO IT! I'LL REALLY DO IT!"
Souji's calm expression didn't change.
Inside, the sword spirit panicked.
It wasn't that it feared cutting Souji.
It feared Souji's terrifying, unshakable calm.
A master who wasn't afraid of pain or death—
That kind of person was scarier than any sword spirit.
At the last inch—
Moonlight Hayate snapped out of his shock.
"STOP! Are you insane?! It's just a sword! There's no need to—"
His scream was cut off by the sound that followed.
SHHHH—THUD.
The demon blade flipped mid-air—
and stabbed into the tatami
just beside Souji's arm, without touching him.
The entire room fell silent.
Hayate stood trembling.
He watched the blade embedded harmlessly in the floor, unable to breathe.
Fugaku's eyes widened.
Even Kakashi lowered his cup slowly.
In the corner, young Itachi's pupils dilated.
Inside Souji's mind, the demon sword sulked like a scolded child.
"I just didn't feel like cutting. Next time I will! I swear!"
Souji nearly laughed.
Because the truth was—
He had never planned to risk his arm at all.
Quietly, with his left hand, he slipped a small, nearly invisible stone back into his pocket.
He had thrown it earlier to subtly alter the sword's trajectory.
Not even the sharingan in the room noticed.
He stood, pulled the blade from the tatami, spun it in a smooth arc, and shook off imaginary blood.
Then—
SHING!
He sheathed it perfectly.
The sound echoed in the room like a final verdict.
Souji tied the sword back at his waist and walked toward the exit without a backward glance.
His footsteps were calm.
His shoulders straight.
He reached the doorway, paused just long enough to speak.
Without turning around, he said:
"Until you achieve true enlightenment, Senior Hayate… this blade must remain with me.
It is too dangerous for you."
Then he left.
---
Outside the Clan House
Once out of sight, Souji's face twisted into panic.
"I'm dead. I'm so dead. I can't EVER pull a stunt like that again!"
His heart was pounding loud enough to drown out everything else.
"Were they staring at me? That was WAY too risky!
I must not leave the house for a week!"
His confident expression melted into sheer regret.
Why did he act so cool?!
Why did he risk becoming a cripple?!
Why didn't he just sell the sword like a normal person?!
He slapped his forehead.
"Where can I buy regret medicine?!
Someone, please sell me one!
Urgently!"
He trudged down the path, face pale, feeling the weight of ten future crimes on his shoulders.
Behind him, in the clan house, four shinobi still sat frozen—
Fugaku, Kakashi, Hayate, and Itachi.
None of them could forget what they had just witnessed.
And none of them looked at Souji the same way again.
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