"Long time no see..."
"Biwa Jūzō."
Hyuga Shinichi's voice came abruptly from behind Jūzō. When the swordsman turned his head, he found himself staring directly into the iridescent depths of Shinichi's eyes.
After a brief moment of shock, Jūzō took in the young man's appearance. Recognition flickered in his fading vision, followed by a bitter, self-deprecating smile. The massive loss of blood had left him incredibly weak. Seeing Shinichi here, Jūzō instinctively assumed the man had come to collect his head.
After all, just a short while ago, Jūzō had attempted to kill the young Hyuga girl—Shinichi's sister.
If his pursuers had remained only Momochi Zabuza and that ANBU operative, Jūzō would have gambled his very soul to claw out a path to survival.
But against this man? In his current state, there was no hope. Even in his prime, he doubted he could escape the person who had left an indelible image of invincibility in his mind years ago.
"To think I'd run into you in a place like this..." Jūzō coughed violently, the desire to struggle vanishing. With a heavy thud, he collapsed fully onto the forest floor. "Heh... I guess this is where my road ends."
Seeing the utter despair in Jūzō's eyes, Shinichi realized the man had completely misinterpreted his intent.
"I'm not here to kill you," Shinichi said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced toward the distant trees. "On the contrary, I specifically came to save you."
Beyond the clearing, Zabuza and Haku had realized Jūzō had escaped the certain death of the Water Dragon Bullet. They now stood at the edge of the woods, watching the scene.
Shinichi was standing in the middle of the road wearing a loose, casual kimono—looking more like a nobleman at home than a shinobi—but that lack of a "battle stance" was exactly what made Zabuza and Haku hesitate.
They didn't move. They simply watched, trying to gauge the risk. A ninja needs "eyes" to survive; they must know which enemies to fight and which to avoid. Zabuza was an elite Mist Jōnin, a man who could hold his own against almost anyone in the Elemental Nations.
And yet... as he stared at the man with the beautiful eyes, a cold shiver ran down his spine. It wasn't based on any specific detail—it was pure, raw instinct. The instinct of a predator sensing a god.
"Haku," Zabuza whispered, his voice barely audible. "If things go south, retreat immediately."
The Deal
Shinichi ignored the two onlookers. The conflict between Jūzō, Zabuza, and Haku was nothing more than a trivial internal squabble of the Mist Village. He had no obligation to help Jūzō kill them. If they were smart, they would leave. If not, he would erase them.
"Save me?" Jūzō's pale face flushed with a sudden, abnormal heat—a sign of a final flare of life force. "What's your goal?"
He knew there were no free lunches, especially not for a rogue ninja.
"Even someone like me occasionally encounters things that are inconvenient to handle personally," Shinichi said, looking down at Jūzō's ruined chest. "I need someone to do work for me."
Shinichi didn't rush to heal him. He wanted his terms clear first. His own power was immense, but it was better kept hidden for now. The world was stable, but the political winds were shifting. Jūzō was an elite, a veteran with a track record that proved his utility. He would be an excellent "black glove."
"Work for you...?" Jūzō wasn't surprised. He knew his only value lay in his skill and his blade.
"Agree, and I save you. Refuse, and I leave you to the Mist."
Jūzō coughed again, dark blood spraying from his lips—blood from his ruptured lungs. "As you can see... I'm broken. A shinobi knows his limit. I have no value left to offer."
"Whether you have value is for me to judge," Shinichi countered. "I am simply asking if you are willing to trade your loyalty for your life."
Jūzō looked at his massive sword, then back at the man standing over him. He let go of the hilt, his muscles relaxing as he lay sprawled on the road, gasping for air. Finally, he looked at Shinichi and made his choice.
"Lord Shinichi... I don't want to die yet. Save me."
In the ninja world, there are heroes who welcome death, and then there are those who cling to life. Jūzō had long since forgotten his original dreams; he lived for the mission and the money. If he had to trade his pride to keep breathing, so be it.
The Power of Yang
"A wise choice," Shinichi murmured. He knelt behind Jūzō and placed a hand on his back.
Suddenly, a tide of warmth flooded Jūzō's body. Having awakened the Tenseigan, Shinichi could manipulate Yin-Yang Release—the fundamental energy of the universe.
Even without medical ninjutsu, the raw power of Yang Release could knit flesh and bone back together instantly. It was the same energy that could keep a man alive even after opening the Eighth Gate.
In seconds, Jūzō's breathing stabilized. The ghastly hole in his chest closed up, the charred flesh replaced by smooth, healthy skin. The bite marks from the Ninken vanished.
"This... this is..." Jūzō stared at his chest in shock. He had only heard of such things in legends about the Uzumaki clan.
Seeing the miraculous recovery, Zabuza couldn't hold back anymore. He couldn't let his prize, the Executioner's Blade, slip away. He pulled a kunai and hurled it with everything he had toward the center of Shinichi's forehead.
Whizz—!
Without even looking up, Shinichi reached out and caught the kunai between two fingers.
Zabuza's heart nearly stopped. He was a Jōnin; even a basic projectile from him carried lethal speed. To catch it so casually required a level of perception and reaction time that defied logic.
Shinichi flicked his wrist. The kunai flew back, coated in a thin layer of lightning chakra. It moved so fast that it vanished from the naked eye.
Crack!
The bolt of lightning hissed past Haku's face. Haku didn't even have time to flinch. A split second later, the porcelain mask on Haku's face shattered down the middle, the pieces falling to the ground.
Shinichi hadn't aimed for the kill—only a warning. The kunai buried itself so deep in the earth behind them that it left a crater where the hilt should have been.
"Stay calm," Shinichi said, his voice level. "If you make another reckless decision, you won't be the only one to pay the price."
Zabuza stared at Shinichi, etching the man's face into his memory. Recognizing the absolute gulf in power, he signaled Haku. The two of them dissolved into the mist and retreated.
As they fled, Shinichi watched them with his Tenseigan. He harbored no ill will; perhaps one day they would escape the fate of the shinobi world. But before they disappeared, he used his eyes to confirm a nagging curiosity shared by many.
That Haku kid... Shinichi thought with a faint smile. He really is a boy.
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