"…But how did you know Black Shadow-sama was operating nearby?" the hot-tempered shinobi finally asked, once his companion had calmed down a little. "Isn't he an ANBU unit leader? His movements shouldn't be public."
The calm shinobi snorted, pride written all over his face. "That just proves you don't pay attention at all. Before I even took this mission, I already knew Black Shadow-sama was active in this region."
"How?" the hot-tempered one pressed. If there was a way to get advance information like that, it could save lives someday.
"Hmph. Black Shadow-sama is the guardian of all genin and chūnin," the calm shinobi said fervently. "No, scratch that. Even some special jōnin treat him like a guardian deity."
"…That's hard to argue," the hot-tempered shinobi muttered, recalling the inhuman speed at which Tōma had arrived, and how decisively the enemies had been erased. He had been one of the people saved, after all.
"So yeah," the calm one continued smugly, "other squads were rescued by him in this area before. That's how I knew. I keep track of Black Shadow-sama's movements. Unlike you, who knows nothing."
The hot-tempered shinobi wiped sweat from his forehead, tempted to complain. He wasn't some obsessive fan, after all. Why would he monitor this kind of thing?
…Though, after thinking about it, maybe becoming a fan wasn't such a bad idea. Even through a mask, Black Shadow-sama's presence had been absurdly cool.
"Hmph. I'll let it slide since you're my friend," the calm shinobi said. "But don't ever speak badly about Black Shadow-sama in front of other chūnin or genin."
"I didn't say anything bad! And why not?" the other protested.
"Because his popularity is terrifying," came the serious reply. "Say something wrong, and someone will challenge you on the spot."
"That bad?" the hot-tempered one asked weakly.
"It's not bad. It's earned," the calm shinobi shot back. "Do you know how much the death rate among genin and chūnin dropped this past year? Several times lower. That's all because of Black Shadow-sama."
"…Several times?" His eyes widened. One person… doing that?
"Exactly. That's why most squads prefer operating in areas where Black Shadow-sama might appear. It's basically an extra life."
The hot-tempered shinobi fell silent for a long moment, letting that sink in.
"…Hey," he finally said, scratching his cheek. "Is there… a way to learn more about Black Shadow-sama? I kinda want to know."
The calm shinobi's eyes lit up. And just like that, he launched into a long, enthusiastic explanation.
If Fujimoto Tōma had been there, he would've thought it looked suspiciously like a religious conversion.With him as the god.
But Tōma wasn't there.
He was already far away, walking steadily toward Konoha. His mental stillness was active, pressing down the violent tide boiling inside him.
He'd kept his eyes closed earlier for a reason. If he opened them, the two Leaf shinobi he'd just spoken to would replay in his mind—not alive, but dismembered. He'd start calculating angles. Efficiency. Clean cuts.
That realization alone told him everything he needed to know.
He needed rest. Distance. Time to settle his mind. And then… a new phase of training.
So he didn't use Flying Thunder God to rush back. He walked instead. Step by step. Like a civilian. Like a person.
The Third Hokage studied Tōma in silence.
The killing intent radiating from the boy wasn't aimed at him, but even so, it made the old man sigh.
Jiraiya had entrusted this child to the village. And this was how he'd turned out.
The Hokage felt regret. The ANBU commander had warned him before. He'd even asked Tōma directly whether he wanted to leave ANBU back then.
At the time, Tōma had refused. Said he could endure it.
And the Third had believed him.
Now, looking at him, he knew he should've forced the issue earlier.
Allowing Tōma to participate in rescue operations had drastically improved the survival rate of Konoha's shinobi, but those missions guaranteed contact with enemy ninja. Killing was unavoidable.
From the beginning, the Hokage and the advisors had opposed letting a genius like Tōma take on such work. Once or twice was one thing. Repeated exposure was another.
But then Tōma had proven something decisive. He had escaped a sealed space using Flying Thunder God itself.
After that, opposition collapsed.
If even Konoha's own sealing techniques couldn't trap him, what could other villages do? Without that risk, the pressure from the advisors became overwhelming. The overall survival rate of Konoha's forces mattered too much.
And so, Black Shadow stepped into the light.
His reputation spread rapidly. Among allies, he became "Konoha's White Fang reborn."Among enemies, his name gained another prefix.
Blood-Red Black Shadow.
He left no hostile survivors.
Information still leaked, of course. Neutral parties. Traitors. Rumors inside the village itself.
At some point, the title "Little White Fang" no longer fit.
He had carved out his own name.
Konoha's Black Shadow.
The Third Hokage exhaled smoke slowly, clicking his tongue. Astonishment… and unease.
"So," he said at last, "you've decided to leave ANBU?"
"Yes," Tōma answered without hesitation. "I need time away."
The Hokage smiled faintly, relief in his eyes. "Good. At least you can still recognize your own state."
Most shinobi never did.
Tōma had killed almost every day. Nonstop. No recovery period. Even the strongest mind would crack under that.
"I overestimated my tolerance," Tōma admitted calmly.
The Hokage shook his head. "No. You underestimated yourself. You're far more exceptional than you think."
Tōma was silent, then nodded.
"The Black Shadow unit will be dissolved," the Hokage continued. "It was just you anyway."
"Understood."
"From now on, you'll live as Fujimoto Tōma again," the Hokage said. "With the rank of Special Jōnin."
"That makes sense," Tōma replied. His strength already exceeded that threshold.
The Hokage studied him carefully.
Twelve years old. Special Jōnin.
He could've been promoted to full Jōnin already. His combat record alone qualified. His contributions had reduced Konoha's casualties across the board.
But promoting him further now would only paint a larger target on his back.
So the Hokage chose caution.
Special Jōnin for now.
Later, when the time was right, the promotion would come naturally.
The Hokage found himself thinking of Hatake Kakashi. Another prodigy. Another twelve-year-old Jōnin.
But Kakashi had risen during wartime, when standards were different.
Tōma?
Tōma had done it in peace.
And that… was far more terrifying.