Itachi Uchiha curiously surveyed the Forest of Death. This place was a restricted zone—normally, no outsiders were allowed inside.
"Shisui, you should know Itachi well by now. Such a promising talent—tsk, tsk, he needs proper training," Kazuyama Gekkō said, messing up Itachi's hair as he spoke. "His father keeps him cooped up at home all the time. Can't let that talent go to waste."
Little Itachi's face scrunched up in displeasure. He was a little prodigy, and he cared a lot about appearances.
"Captain Kazuyama, you might not know this, but I've already been training Itachi for a while," Shisui said. "Clan Head Fugaku approved it himself."
Of course Kazuyama knew. He just got excited the moment he saw Itachi.
This was the future Itachi, after all.
A talent like this? If he didn't try to win him over, he wouldn't be Kazuyama Gekkō.
That's why he used Flying Thunder God, even knowing both coordinates already.
"Itachi, your dad's too strict with you."
"If you ever want to train in the future, come to Uncle Kazuyama. I'll pack your schedule full."
"Kakashi, Shisui—come on, show Itachi what you've got."
"I'll be right back."
With another flash of Flying Thunder God, Kazuyama vanished again, leaving Kakashi and Shisui staring at Itachi, slightly exasperated.
Their sensei—well, captain—was always like this. Random and unpredictable. They were used to it.
"Itachi, since the captain brought you here, let's get started."
"This is Kakashi, the captain's student. Oh, that reminds me—Itachi, you'll be starting school soon, right?"
"Captain Kazuyama teaches at the Academy too. You'll be in his class."
At the mention of the Academy, Shisui looked a bit nostalgic and helpless. He'd enrolled once, but the Third Shinobi World War hit, shutting the school down for a long time. Most of his early training ended up being within the clan.
Then he was sent straight to the battlefield. By the time he returned, he was a Chūnin. After that, it was straight to the ANBU.
"Hehehe… Captain Kazuyama's class? That'll be unforgettable…"
Kakashi recalled the first time he saw Kazuyama at the Academy. The guy had pulled off his mask, only to reveal… a pink one underneath. And then there was that dreaded Thousand Years of Death…
God, it felt like ever since Kazuyama entered his life, things had gone downhill—nothing but trouble!
He couldn't even bring himself to use Fire Release anymore. All because of that cursed tiger hand seal—it scarred him mentally and physically.
"What's wrong? Were those memories really that unforgettable?"
"Want me to help make them even more unforgettable?"
Kazuyama returned just as fast, this time carrying a huge bundle of snacks. Among them was a mountain of tri-color dango that made Itachi's eyes light up.
Kazuyama smirked. Look at that expression—so easy to read.
Kids were kids. He was Kazuyama Gekkō, the Ghost of Konoha and head of the Gekkō Clan. How could he not handle one little kid?
"What's this, Itachi? You like tri-color dango too?"
"Hahaha, great taste! Sweets are the best!"
Itachi nodded eagerly. He agreed—sweets really did make people feel happy.
"All right, time to train! You can eat after."
"Shisui, show me how you usually train Itachi."
"Kakashi, come here. I think we've gone too long without some good master-disciple bonding!"
Kakashi stared at the smiling Kazuyama slowly closing in and screamed internally: No! Stay away!
...
Meanwhile, Fugaku Uchiha had returned home after wrapping up his work—only to find that his beloved son was missing.
At first, he thought Shisui had taken Itachi to train. But then he paused—Shisui would've said something first.
"Don't bother looking. I've been waiting for you," a voice called out.
"Damn it! I knew it was you! Where's Itachi?!"
Fugaku turned to see Kazuyama standing behind him. One look was all it took to confirm this was his doing.
"Itachi? I took him out for training. He's still in the Forest of Death."
"But relax—Kakashi and Shisui are with him. He's safe."
Kazuyama couldn't care less about Fugaku's scowl. He had his eyes on Itachi. Not even the heavens could stop him now.
"Hmph. Out with it. What do you want from me?"
"Don't you already know? Why ask?"
Fugaku's anger faded, replaced by a grave expression.
"Don't make that face. We're not at that stage yet. Come on, let's grab a drink."
"But not here—too many ears around. I'll take you somewhere better."
Kazuyama placed a hand on Fugaku's shoulder. In the next instant, the two of them vanished.
...
They reappeared on a bustling street—clearly not anywhere in Konohagakure.
"This is a town in the southwestern part of the Land of Fire. Very lively. Don't worry—it's not far from the village."
"Come on, let's get some grilled meat and drinks."
While eating and drinking, Kazuyama and Fugaku—two old friends—talked things through.
"So, what does the village think of the Uchiha?"
"Minato must be having a tough time sending you as a negotiator."
Fugaku wasn't an idiot. He'd seen the Nine-Tails' rampage with his own eyes. Those blood-red eyes in the sky—how could he have missed them?
And the dōjutsu that pushed the Nine-Tails into madness—what else could it be but the Sharingan?
Alcohol might numb the body, but not the mind. Fugaku was well aware of the Uchiha clan's precarious position.
"Yeah, it was definitely a Uchiha's doing. But it had nothing to do with your clan."
"There's only one person in history who could control the Nine-Tails with dōjutsu—Madara Uchiha. The one who fought the First Hokage."
"And now he has a new accomplice. The village is targeting your clan because of him. Honestly, I think they're blowing it out of proportion."
Kazuyama casually downed another drink as he spoke.
The moment Fugaku heard that name, his pupils shrank sharply.
"Impossible. He should be dead."
"Even if it is him—why the mask?"
Kazuyama nearly spat out his drink all over Fugaku's face. The clan head's shock twisted into a scowl, rage bubbling up inside him.
"You bastard! You did that on purpose!"
"Cough, cough… You just caught me off guard! What the hell is that reaction? Why are you so fixated on the mask?!"
Typical Uchiha Clan Head—his priorities were something else entirely.
"Hmph. If it really is Madara Uchiha, then there's no way he'd wear a mask."
"A man that proud would never hide his face."
Kazuyama blinked in surprise again.
Huh. Gotta admit—Fugaku had a point.