Great Fireball

The rogue ninja took a step forward.

Tsunade did not retreat. Her knees were trembling, but her feet remained anchored to the ground.

A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind—her lack of proficiency with the Body Replacement Technique, the uselessness of her Shadow Clones, and the fact that she didn't even have a single kunai on her.

Everything taught in the classroom had become useless in this moment.

Her palms were slick with sweat, and her mind was a chaotic mess.

Her grandfather's face flashed before her, followed by the voice of her grand-uncle, but then everything shattered.

The final image that settled in her mind was the face that had been looking at her from across the classroom desk.

Kaede—

The moment the thought surfaced, she bit her lip.

Don't think about it. It's useless even if you do.

He was at the top of the mountain, and it would take half a quarter-hour to run there from here.

Besides, what would it change if he came?

It would just be one more person sent to their death.

But her mind refused to listen.

It didn't care about "it's useless if he comes"; it just kept thinking about that person over and over, like a drowning person clutching at driftwood, completely irrational.

Tsunade forcefully suppressed the thought.

She was Tsunade.

Her grandfather had founded Konoha, and her grand-uncle was the Hokage.

She did not show cowardice, raising her hands to her chest.

The rogue ninja made no unnecessary movements.

He drew his short blade, the steel flashing as he swept it horizontally.

Tsunade held her arms up in front of her face.

She didn't know what this could block, but it was the only action she could take.

The blade did not fall.

A fireball crashed in from the side, wreathed in scorching heat, heading straight for the rogue ninja's face.

The rogue ninja's reaction was faster than his thoughts; he shifted the angle of his blade at the last second and retreated three steps to the right.

The fireball grazed his sleeve, landing on the ground and scorching a patch of earth black.

Tsunade's arms were still raised in front of her face.

The sound of snapping branches came from above.

Someone dropped from the canopy, landing two meters in front of her, his back turned to her.

Kitahara Kaede did not look back.

From start to finish, his gaze remained pinned on the man opposite him.

Tsunade looked at this familiar back.

Her throat felt as if it were blocked by a stone; all her words were stuck, unable to push through.

She had been desperately telling herself not to think about this person just a moment ago.

Now, he was standing right in front of her.

Kitahara Kaede made a rapid assessment.

The Great Fireball Technique hadn't landed, but the opponent's evasion was not clean—his reaction speed was below the level of a Chunin.

However, the way he had created distance afterward was seasoned; his footwork was steady, and he hadn't panicked.

A Genin who had seen the battlefield, with plenty of practical experience.

He didn't have more time to analyze.

His seven-year-old body only had so much chakra; that one fireball had consumed half of it, leaving him with only one chance left.

Taijutsu as the foundation, Fire Style to finish—there was no second plan.

The rogue ninja was also sizing him up.

The heat of the fireball still lingered in the air.

A seven-year-old child, a C-rank ninjutsu, released with precision.

This was not an ability a ninja academy student should possess.

The rogue ninja's brow furrowed, and he lowered his short blade.

He had originally intended to casually dispose of these two annoying brats and continue on his way.

Running into a ninja academy exercise was an accident; he needed to pass through the back mountain to reach the dense forest to the east, from where he would leave the Land of Fire.

Two kids blocking the road—just clean them up.

But now, there was a variable.

No more hesitation.

Body Flicker Technique.

To a seven-year-old's eyes, a professional ninja's Body Flicker was like vanishing into thin air—one second he was three meters away, the next he was right in front of him.

Kitahara Kaede's body reacted before his consciousness.

He twisted his right shoulder back and lowered his center of gravity.

The rogue ninja's straight kick grazed his left ribs. The moment the instep brushed his bone, a burst of pain exploded from his side.

Kitahara Kaede let out a muffled grunt, using the force of the kick to slide back two steps.

He stayed standing?

The rogue ninja pulled his leg back, stunned for a split second.

Jiraiya was still leaning against a tree, half his body numb, his stomach churning.

He had seen the rogue ninja close in on Kitahara Kaede and his heart had skipped a beat—then he saw the guy hold his ground.

It looked like the force of that kick was no different from the one he had received.

He had been sent flying into a tree.

Kitahara Kaede had taken the same force, slid back two steps, and stayed standing.

Seven years old, both seven years old.

Jiraiya gritted his teeth, feeling a complex mix of emotions.

The battle did not pause.

The rogue ninja stopped testing him and slashed horizontally with his short blade.

Kitahara Kaede did not retreat; he stepped forward to meet him.

Tsunade's heart skipped a beat.

Before the blade edge could reach him, his body slipped inside the rogue ninja's guard.

The effective killing distance of a short blade was at full arm extension; it was too close to swing properly.

Once inside, Kitahara Kaede clamped his right hand onto the rogue ninja's wrist.

The rogue ninja instinctively tried to shake him off.

He couldn't.

The five fingers of a seven-year-old child were locked onto his wrist joint, chakra pouring into the knuckles, gripping tight like a pair of pliers.

The rogue ninja's expression changed.

He twisted his wrist and flipped his elbow to counter, while his left hand swung toward the side of Kitahara Kaede's head.

Kitahara Kaede tilted his head to avoid it, but his body stumbled from the force of the wrist twist.

The rogue ninja drove a knee into him.

Kitahara Kaede took the hit to his side, his vision blurring from the pain, but his hand didn't let go.

The distance between the two was less than half a meter, tangled together.

The rogue ninja began to truly panic.

He had underestimated this child.

Not an underestimation of strength—a seven-year-old's body couldn't be that strong regardless.

It was an underestimation of will.

This child had taken two hits and still wouldn't let go, clutching his wrist as if it were his own life.

In that very instant.

Kitahara Kaede gave a violent tug.

The rogue ninja's body was pulled forward, his center of gravity shifting—

Then the child let go.

The rogue ninja instinctively tried to retreat, and in that gap, he saw the hand signs.

Too close.

Too late to dodge.

Kitahara Kaede opened his mouth.

The rogue ninja saw light inside the child's mouth.

The moment the chakra completed its nature transformation in his throat and surged out from his mouth, there was a visible, high-temperature glow.

Point-blank.

Great Fireball.

A pillar of high-temperature fire plastered itself directly onto the rogue ninja's chest and face.

The rogue ninja let out a scream—a sound that lasted less than a second before it cut off.

The superheated gas poured into his respiratory tract, causing his vocal cords to spasm.

He struggled desperately, rolling backward four or five meters, and only stopped after tumbling twice on the ground.

A large hole was burned into the front of his tunic, and his chest and half his face were covered in severe burns.

Charred black and raw red intermingled, the flesh beneath the skin exposed, still emitting thin wisps of smoke.

The rogue ninja lay on the ground, his fingers clawing at the dirt, trying to push himself up twice.

He couldn't.

Someone with respiratory burns makes a specific sound when inhaling, a hissing noise, like wind squeezing through a crack.

The rogue ninja opened his mouth to make that sound, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed face-first into the mud.

Now, only the sound of wind through the leaves and the heavy breathing of the three children remained in the forest.

Kitahara Kaede hunched over, hands braced on his knees.

His chakra was bottomed out; he couldn't squeeze any more energy from his cells.

He felt dizzy, his ears were ringing, and the area around his left ribs throbbed with a numbing pain that flared with every breath.

He turned around first.

Tsunade stood five meters away, motionless.

"Are you hurt?"

His voice was a bit hoarse.

Tsunade's lips moved twice, but no sound came out.

She shook her head.

Kitahara Kaede nodded and turned to the other side.

Jiraiya was still leaning against the tree trunk, his face pale, but his eyes wide.

"What about you?"

Jiraiya stared at him for two seconds, his mouth opening and closing as if a mountain of words were stuck in his throat, until only one sentence leaked out.

"...That was cool."

The voice was muffled, squeezed through his teeth.

He paused.

"Jerk."

Kitahara Kaede walked over and held out a hand.

Jiraiya looked down at the hand, hesitating for a moment.

When he was pulled up, his legs were still shaking, and he had to lean against the tree to steady himself.

He didn't speak again.

His gaze drifted over Kitahara Kaede's shoulder to look at the rogue ninja lying on the ground, then shifted back.

It moved to the hand Kitahara Kaede was pressing against his ribs, watched for a while, then looked away.

Tsunade walked over, her pace neither fast nor slow.

When she reached Kitahara Kaede, she looked down at the spot he was pressing.

Nothing could be seen from the outside of his clothes, but the area around his ribs was slightly swollen, and his hand hadn't moved.

"Let me see."

She reached out to lift his hem.

Kitahara Kaede stepped back half a step. "Just a bruise."

"I said let me see."

Kitahara Kaede didn't dodge again.

Tsunade lifted his hem.

A large patch of blue and purple was on his left ribs, the color already darkening and spreading outward.

Her fingers pressed down, very lightly.

Kitahara Kaede caught his breath.

"It's not broken," Tsunade said. "A contusion. Go to the hospital to get it treated when we get back."

She let go of the hem.

The two of them stood very close.

Tsunade looked up at him, her lips moving slightly.

Whatever words had reached her lips were swallowed back down.

Not far away, there was a stir in the trees.