Two years passed, and after spending those two years gathering himself,
Indra fought Asura again!
This time, they weren't fighting over the Ninja Sect. It was a contest of strength!
In the end, Asura narrowly defeated Indra.
Mount Myōboku, lakeside pavilion
The pavilion was filled with the gentle aroma of tea.
"Sigh!"
Indra sat on a stone stool with his eyes lowered. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and the warmth of Chakra from the fierce battle still lingered around him. He had just faced Asura, giving everything he had learned, yet his opponent had still managed to win by a hair.
Indra was utterly spent...
Frustration and dejection mingled with his fierce temper, weighing heavily on his brow. A desolate chill hung over him.
The three of them sat facing one another in the middle of the pavilion.
"Little Indra, you're still too young. Stop fighting."
Sage Fukasaku held a clay teacup and took a small sip of tea before speaking leisurely, his tone carrying a senior's gentle counsel.
"Rather than devoting yourself to hunting that fellow down for a fight, why not stay here at Mount Myōboku and live your life in peace?"
Black Zetsu drank his tea as well and chimed in.
"No! I want to fight him again!"
Indra clenched his fist, his knuckles turning deathly pale. His face flushed red as he growled, his voice thick with barely contained resentment. "You don't understand! Asura has become an obsession of mine!"
If Asura is so damn amazing, why isn't his portrait hanging in the Six Paths Temple? Black Zetsu grumbled inwardly.
"Sigh..."
At Indra's words, Black Zetsu and Fukasaku exchanged a knowing look. It seemed Indra had become obsessed, trapped in his rivalry with Asura and unable to break free.
"And what's even more infuriating!"