Naruto : Blazing Legend

Chapter 18: Discrediting White Fang

Ten days until the Chunin Exams. The countdown felt like a blade hanging over everyone's heads, sharp enough to cut through the false calm that had settled over the village. My team was training independently now—we'd reached that comfortable synchronization where words became unnecessary, where anticipation meant survival.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across my courtyard when someone dropped from the sky like a stone. I barely recognized the figure as Obito—his face was a masterpiece of bruises, one eye swollen shut, cheeks puffed up like overripe fruit. Yet somehow, impossibly, that infectious grin still blazed across his battered features.

"Brother Rei! Brother Rei!" He stumbled forward, practically vibrating with excitement. "I did it! I'm finally stronger than him!"

"Did what, exactly?" Though looking at his face told most of the story.

The words tumbled out of him like water from a broken dam. Today's sparring class. Weeks of brutal training finally paying dividends. The moment when Kakashi's arrogant expression cracked, when shock replaced condescension in those cold gray eyes. The teacher's jaw dropping. Classmates staring in disbelief.

Uchiha Obito—dead last in written exams, couldn't hit a target if his life depended on it, punching bag for anyone with basic competence—had finally risen from the ashes of his own mediocrity.

"And then," Obito's voice took on a dreamy quality, "I ran straight to Rin and gave her the biggest hug. She was so surprised, Brother Rei! Her face turned all red and—"

"Wait." I held up a hand. "You hugged her? In front of everyone?"

"Yeah! I had the courage finally!" His grin somehow managed to get even brighter. "Though I kinda ran away right after when the teacher started yelling. Came straight here without even stopping at the medical station."

I smacked him upside the head, not gently. The sharp crack echoed through the courtyard.

"One victory and you're already getting ahead of yourself?" The blow seemed to knock some sense back into him. "Beating Kakashi once just means you've taken a single step toward becoming Hokage. There are probably dozens of other kids in this village with the same dream—Kakato, Kakabei, whoever. You think they're going to roll over and let you pass them?"

Reality crashed down on him like a cold wave. "You're right. I can't lose to anyone. I have to make everyone acknowledge me!"

The transformation was instant—from giddy celebration to burning determination. Watching him, I felt that familiar knot of unease in my stomach. The Will of Fire burned so bright in young hearts like his, but what happened when that flame consumed everything around it?

I'd seen where this path led. Hashirama choosing the village over Madara. Brothers turning blades on each other for the greater good. The village's needs trampling individual bonds into dust.

Yet looking at Obito now—bruised, determined, stupidly noble—I couldn't bring myself to crush that hope. Not yet.

"Still," I said, letting a smile creep into my voice, "beating that arrogant brat deserves some recognition. Let's go buy ingredients for a celebration dinner."

"Really? Can I bring Rin?"

"Do whatever you want."

The marketplace buzzed with its usual late-day energy, vendors hawking their wares to tired workers heading home. I was picking through vegetables when fragments of conversation drifted over from a nearby sake house.

"...gave up the mission. Just abandoned it!"

"Disgraceful. That's not what being a ninja means."

"White Fang or not, rules are rules. Mission comes first."

"People who can't follow the code are trash, no matter how strong they are."

The words hit me like ice water. My hands stilled on the produce, mind racing. So it had begun—the systematic destruction of Hatake Sakumo's reputation. The whispers that would grow into shouts, the doubts that would fester into absolute condemnation.

Danzo's handiwork, no doubt. Maybe with the Third's tacit approval.

I could see the political calculus clearly now. Sakumo's popularity exceeded even the Sannin. The Third was aging, his peak years behind him. Succession planning demanded eliminating inconvenient competitors. Orochimaru was the obvious choice—brilliant, cold, ambitious. But only if White Fang wasn't in the picture.

The bastards were going to drive him to suicide through manufactured public opinion. Death by a thousand cuts, each whisper another slice until even someone as strong as Sakumo couldn't bear the weight of the village's disappointment.

That evening, I watched Obito and Rin demolish my cooking with the enthusiasm only teenagers could muster. Obito swore dramatic oaths about protecting me when he became Hokage, his sincerity both touching and heartbreaking.

"I need to take care of something," I said after they'd eaten their fill. "You two enjoy yourselves."

I vanished in a swirl of leaves, heading initially toward Sakumo's residence before stopping myself. Going alone would be suicide—too easy to be labeled a conspirator, too simple for Danzo to eliminate another potential problem.

Instead, I changed course toward Minato's apartment. If I was going to stick my neck out, I'd need witnesses with sterling reputations.

Minato answered the door looking haggard, worry lines etched deep around his eyes. Behind him, Kushina's red hair caught the lamplight like fire.

"Rei? I didn't expect you to know about this mess already." He stepped aside to let me in. "The whole village's been talking. People are saying Hatake-sensei was wrong to abandon his mission for his comrades, that anyone who breaks the rules is trash." His voice carried genuine uncertainty. "What do you think?"

Before I could answer, Kushina's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "You've been brooding about this all day, Minato! It's just village gossip—it'll blow over soon enough."

Sweet, naive Kushina. She had no idea this was orchestrated character assassination, that it would end with one of Konoha's greatest heroes bleeding out on his own floor.

I looked at Minato—this man who would one day be Hokage, who would understand the weight of impossible choices—and gave him the only answer that mattered.

"If people who don't follow the rules are trash," I said, letting each word carry the full weight of my conviction, "then people who don't cherish their companions are worse than trash."

The silence that followed felt heavy enough to crush bones. In Minato's eyes, I saw understanding beginning to dawn. In Kushina's, fierce approval.

Outside, the village settled into evening routine, unaware that its greatest protector was slowly being fed poison disguised as righteousness. But at least now I had allies who might help me fight back.

The real battle was just beginning.

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