Mufasa wasn't in a rush to celebrate just yet.
The oiran, Taifu Kozi, had barely stepped into the room when she suddenly pulled a face and turned away. Before Mufasa could react, a flurry of footsteps interrupted the moment.
A servant rushed in, bowing apologetically. "My lords, I deeply regret this, but Taifu Kozi has been called away. A very important guest has arrived—someone we cannot afford to offend. Please, forgive us."
Mufasa's eyebrow twitched. He hadn't even had the chance to enjoy the performance—hadn't even caught a whiff of her perfume—before she was whisked away.
"Oh? And who, exactly, is this so-called 'big shot'?" Mufasa asked, his tone edged with irritation. "Who dares to—"
Wait. He couldn't say he was the Kazekage. That wouldn't be smart.
"Who dares to disrespect Konoha's own Hatake Kakashi?"
Kakashi, mid-sip of his drink, nearly choked.
Cough! "Wha—?" He turned to Mufasa, eyes blinking in disbelief. "What are you doing?"
Mufasa gave him a knowing look. Brother. You know how it is. I never leave a name for my good deeds. If I must, I leave the name of a friend.
He jabbed a finger at the terrified servant. "You heard me! Do you even know who you're disrespecting? This is Kakashi of the Sharingan! The man who's copied over a thousand jutsu!"
The servant went pale. "L-Lord Kakashi! I—I meant no offense! But I truly have no choice—"
Mufasa jumped up. "You refuse to show Hatake Kakashi the proper respect? This so-called important guest must be someone truly beyond ordinary! Well, I say we go meet them ourselves."
Kakashi groaned. "Brother, just let it go."
Mufasa shook his head. "Kakashi, we can't just let this slide! This is about honor! About principle!"
More importantly, it was about him missing out on art appreciation.
Before Kakashi could protest further, Mufasa grabbed him by the arm and marched out.
They followed the commotion down the hall, coming to a stop outside a private room. Mufasa didn't hesitate—he slid the paper door open and took a step inside.
And then he froze.
This? This is the 'big shot' we can't afford to offend?!
Inside the room sat a young boy—no older than ten—his snot-covered face buried deep in the chest of Taifu Kozi. He had his hair pulled up into a crescent-shaped ponytail and wore an extravagant robe, as if playing dress-up in his father's clothes.
Mufasa's eye twitched. Oh hell no.
'A child was the reason his night had been ruined?! And worse yet—
Why is this brat burying his face in the best part?!'
He stepped forward, fully prepared to pry the kid away. 'This is a crime! Kids should be at home drinking milk, not—'
Shing!
A sharp metallic sound rang out as a blade was unsheathed.
A samurai stepped forward, placing himself between Mufasa and the boy. He had striking yellow hair, a half-black, half-red kimono, and a family crest tattooed on his back.
"Who are you?" the samurai demanded. "How dare you barge in here?"
Mufasa crossed his arms. "I am Hatake Kakashi of the Hidden Leaf. Who the hell are you?"
Kakashi nearly facepalmed.
The samurai narrowed his eyes. "I am Kin'emon, retainer of the Kozuki Clan."
Oh. That explained everything.
Mufasa instantly recognized the brat in the oiran's arms—Kozuki Momonosuke, heir to the Land of Rivers' ruling family.
Momonosuke finally turned his head from his very comfortable position, a scowl on his face. "Hmph! Who dares disturb my evening?"
Mufasa twitched. 'This kid...'
Momonosuke pointed at them dramatically. "Kin'emon! Cut them down!"
Kin'emon hesitated. "My lord, this is Kakashi from the Hidden Leaf."
"So what?!" Momonosuke huffed, rolling his eyes. "Isn't he just another shinobi? A common ninja, no different from a soldier? You serve me, don't you? Now do as I command!"
Kakashi's expression darkened. He had always been calm, collected—approachable, even. But this little noble had just gotten on his last nerve.
Mufasa turned to him, grinning. "How about it? Should we teach this kid a lesson?"
Kakashi hesitated.
Mufasa clapped a hand to his chest. "Don't worry. If anyone asks, I'll take the blame."
Kakashi let out a deep breath. "...Alright."
That's the spirit.
Mufasa turned back. "Kin'emon, right?"
The samurai nodded.
"Good. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."
Kin'emon scowled. "I am a retainer of the Kozuki Clan. I will never abandon my lord! If you wish to harm him, you must face my Foxfire Style!"
Mufasa raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Confident, are we? Alright then—show me what you've got."
Kin'emon didn't hesitate. He dashed forward, his sword igniting with chakra flames. "Foxfire Style: Flashfire Stab!"
He lunged, aiming for Mufasa's chest.
Mufasa didn't move.
With a simple flick of his wrist, he activated his magnetic control. Instantly, Kin'emon's sword was yanked sideways, dragging him along with it. The samurai stumbled as his blade was pulled out of his grasp, flying across the room.
Kin'emon crashed into a table.
Mufasa didn't spare him a second glance. That takes care of him.
Now there was nothing standing between him and the brat.
Momonosuke's face went pale. He scrambled off the oiran's lap, dropping to his knees.
"Waaaah! Wait, wait, wait! I'm just a kid! Let's talk about this!"
Mufasa cracked his knuckles, looming over him. "Oh? You were acting tough a minute ago. What happened?"
Momonosuke sniffled. "I—I was just joking! Haha... ha... ha..." He burst into tears. "Come on, have some compassion! I'm just a helpless child!"
Mufasa sighed. "I hate dealing with kids..."
Snapped.
A pouch smacked Momonosuke straight in the face.
His left cheek swelled instantly.
"Oooooow...!" he whined.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he clutched his face. "I'm only eight years old..."
Mufasa's face twisted in fury. "Eight years old? Oh, so now you're just a kid? You came here at eight years old acting like a menace!"
SMACK.
Another strike landed, this time on Momonosuke's right cheek, making it puff up just like the other side.
Mufasa wasn't done. He rained down a few more slaps on is buttocks, his voice growing louder with each hit. "At eight, you're already preying on women. What happens when you're eighteen? Twenty-eight? Eighty-eight? You'll turn the Land of Rivers into ruins before you even reach adulthood!"
"How can the men of this country live in peace with someone like you running around?"
Mufasa's eyes narrowed. "You kill people without a second thought. Does it thrill you? Do you see them as ants?"
Momonosuke whimpered, trying to shrink away, but Mufasa grabbed him by the collar. "Cruel, cowardly, bed-wetting, lying, perverted—you kid, needs to be disciplined."
Momonosuke, in his daze, tried to argue. "I... I use my money wisely!"
Mufasa scoffed. "Oh? You're actually talking back, huh?"
SMACK. Another slap on his sorry ass.
The onlookers—Kakashi and the young kunoichi Mufasa had saved—stood frozen. The girl's eyes were wide with shock. Kakashi rubbed his temples, shaking his head.
Mufasa turned to the kunoichi, flashing her a grin. "No need to thank me. Just call me a good man... Kakashi."
The girl blinked, completely dumbfounded.
Kakashi groaned, covering his face. "Why am I even here...?"
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed, "You lunatic! State your name!"
A bruised and battered samurai, Kin'emon, came stumbling back, gripping his sword. Mufasa arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Kin'emon, still haven't learned your lesson?"
He raised a single finger.
Before Kin'emon could react, his sword shot from his hands, soaring into the air with him still holding onto it. The magnetic force lifted him high above the ground.
Kin'emon's screams echoed through the night. "You'll pay for this, Kakashi! You won't escape!"
From his sleeve, he pulled out a flare and fired it into the sky.
BOOM!
The symbol of the Land of Rivers' daimyo exploded in the air—a distress signal for reinforcements.
Kakashi frowned. "This isn't good. We need to go. Now."
Mufasa glanced at the battered Momonosuke and the freed kunoichi. He took a deep breath, feeling a sense of satisfaction.
"Alright. I'll let you off for now," he said, turning on his heel. "You better reflect on your actions."
As Mufasa and Kakashi made their way to the exit, Kakashi suddenly spun around, his Sharingan glinting in the moonlight. "Remember this well... I am Uchiha Sasuke of the Sand."
Mufasa's eyes widened. "Huh?!"
Kakashi shot him a mischievous smile. "Heh. I also do good deeds without leaving a name."
Mufasa sighed. "You're seriously throwing Sasuke under the bus? How is the Sand supposed to deal with this mess?"
Kakashi shrugged. "Not my problem."
Mufasa laughed. "Fine. Let's roll with it!" He looked at Momonosuke one last time. "If you want revenge, come find us."
With that, the two disappeared, leaping onto the rooftops, leaving the courtyard in utter chaos. Below, Momonosuke lay in Kurozumi's arms, sobbing.
"Kakashi... that bastard... he humiliated me..."
His face was swollen like a balloon—half green, half purple.
Kurozumi, the true power behind the Land of Rivers' daimyo, seethed with fury. "Konoha thinks they can do whatever they want just because they're strong? Hmph. They will regret this."
He turned to one of his subordinates. "Send word to the Fuma clan. I want Kakashi eliminated."
Momonosuke, still sniffling, added, "And Uchiha Sasuke of the Sand! They're together!"
Kurozumi hesitated. "The Sand...?" He knew the Sand Village had been negotiating with them recently. If they had already offended the Sand, things could get complicated.
He narrowed his eyes. "Forget targeting Konoha for now. Keep an eye on the Sand instead."
Momonosuke pouted. "So you're not avenging me?"
Kurozumi forced a smile. "Of course, I am. I'll have the Fire Daimyo intervene. Lord Yoshimitsu will see to it that justice is served."
Momonosuke, satisfied, nodded. "Good. I want that Kakashi dragged back to me. I'll make him suffer."
Meanwhile, on a small fishing boat sailing down the river, Kakashi suddenly sneezed violently.
Mufasa smirked. "Heh. Someone must really be cursing your name right now."
Kakashi wiped his nose. "Yeah... I get the feeling things are about to get messy."
Mufasa just chuckled. "Oh well. Too late to worry about that now."
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Word count: 1689
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