"Wow, the capital really is prosperous. Compared to Konoha, it does feel a bit more powerful."
Saitama strolled out after having his wounds bandaged. Although he had visited the capital during past missions, he had always been too focused on the task to truly take it in. Now that the mission was over and he was recovering, he finally had the time to look around.
The faint scent of medicine clung to him as he walked lightly down the bustling street, passing crowds of people.
The short sword strapped to his waist didn't draw attention—many people here carried weapons openly. Saitama blended in perfectly.
At over 160 centimeters tall, Saitama didn't stand out in the crowd in terms of height either.
Izakayas lined the streets, interspersed with hot spring inns, gambling halls, and less reputable establishments that catered to adult tastes.
"Hey there, handsome, come in and rest for a bit," came a warm voice from a hostess nearby as Saitama paused to glance at a flashy banner.
Though momentarily tempted, he quickly reminded himself that he was only eight years old and had no business in such a place. Without hesitation, he turned and briskly walked away.
---
"Rare finds from nameless ninja! Don't miss your chance!"
"Got money? Place your bets! Today's your lucky day!"
The shouts and sales pitches rang out from every direction, mixing with the colors and chaos of the market.
Saitama, with coin tucked safely in his sash, didn't panic. He glanced at interesting goods here and there, and when he passed a food stall, he let his guard down for once and snacked while walking. The street food in the capital was varied—and delicious.
Time passed quickly. Saitama wasn't concerned about the duel between Xiahu and Sanjiji—whatever the outcome, it didn't matter much to him. When the time came, he was ready to return and report the mission's completion.
---
"Heading out already, Saitama?" Xiahu greeted him with a smile. His right arm was still bound tightly in a sling—it was the same injury that had yet to fully heal. Unlike Saitama's unnatural resilience, Xiahu's wounds took time.
"Yeah, after a few days of rest, it's time to go back." Saitama nodded.
"Understood. I'll handle the follow-up tasks soon," Xiahu said, his tone still relaxed. He didn't seem too bothered by the results of his match with Sanjiji.
"I'll leave it to you then." Saitama gave a casual wave as he turned to leave, signaling the end of his brief stay.
---
"You're back earlier than expected. Go and rest," said the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, puffing calmly on his pipe. His aged face bore a smile as he read the letter that had arrived a few days prior via messenger hawk from Xiahu.
Traveling alone, Saitama made excellent time. It took only two days to return to the village.
"Understood."
Saitama bowed respectfully and exited the Hokage's office. The mission was officially concluded.
---
"The mission target has returned to the village."
"Don't act yet. Focus on your current orders and coordinate with that person's movements."
"Yes."
In a damp and shadowed place, hidden from Saitama's knowledge, things were already in motion.
---
"I'm back, Saitama!"
Mori, newly married and now overseeing the guard training grounds, called out cheerfully as he spotted Saitama approaching.
"That mission took more than half a month. Felt longer than usual."
"Take it easy for now. You'll be assigned to leave the village again soon."
Mori clapped Saitama on the shoulder, but Saitama didn't react.
"I figured."
Saitama already knew. The Uchiha clan had learned about reinforcements being sent to the Land of Water's border. None of this surprised him.
"Saitama!" "Saitama!"
Other guard members, including Shisui and Nagisa, greeted him enthusiastically.
Some had already volunteered for the front lines.
"What's the matter, Shisui?"
Saitama noticed the downcast look on the boy's face.
"The captain didn't let him deploy with the unit," Nagisa explained.
"Really?"
Saitama frowned. That was odd. Based on strength, Shisui should have been a valid choice for deployment.
"My father suggested it to the captain," Shisui said quietly, stepping off to the side.
"I see."
Saitama understood. Shisui's father was a plain, cautious man. Not especially talented as a shinobi, his duty was simply to protect Konoha. For someone like that, the battlefield was no place for his gifted son. It was a protective gesture—one Shisui likely found stifling, but Saitama understood the intent.
"The front lines aren't like missions. It's not just a few enemies," Saitama said to both Shisui and Nagisa.
"On the battlefield, strength alone doesn't matter. Even Chūnin can end up as cannon fodder. War is decided by more than just one or two individuals."
His words hung in the air. The two boys stayed quiet.
"Still moping, Shisui? Want to spar and get it out of your system?"
Saitama jabbed him lightly with his elbow.
"Sure!"
Shisui, his Sharingan already awakened, had long wanted to test himself against Saitama. He just hadn't had the chance.
"Nagisa, step aside."
Saitama gestured with his chin.
"Right!"
Nagisa nodded and moved to the edge of the training field, joining Mori, who stood watching.
"Who's your money on?" Mori asked Zhu, another onlooker.
"No contest—Saitama. Even if Shisui has his Sharingan, he's nowhere near Saitama's level."
"Yeah, you're right…" Mori scratched his head, the earlier image of Shisui landing a clean hit on Saitama already fading from his mind.
"Let's see how strong you've gotten behind my back!"
Saitama touched the hilt at his waist. A gust of wind stirred the dust around his feet.
"I'm ready, Saitama!"
Shisui closed his eyes—and when they opened again, the twin tomoe of his Sharingan spun, sharp and alert. He had looked forward to this moment for a long time.
"Here I come!"
He formed a seal—and vanished.
But at the exact same moment, Saitama disappeared too.
"Wait, what!?"
Mori's eyes widened in disbelief. He could've sworn he saw three tomoe in Saitama's eyes.
"That speed… Just what happened during that mission?"
He fell into thought. Sharingan only evolved in moments of emotional shock or life-or-death encounters.
But before Mori could ponder further, the clash of steel echoed from the training ground.
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