-----
-----
"You..." Kushina Uzumaki looked at Hayata Hayato and opened her mouth like she wanted to say something—But nothing came out.
Because honestly, Kushina had no idea what she was supposed to say to him.
Every time he got bullied, Hayato never just stood there and took it. Sure, he got beat up a lot, but he always fought back. The problem was... he was just too weak.
Still, she'd caught glimpses of him training, and the guy trained like a madman—like he didn't care about breaking himself in the process. Full of bruises and cuts, yet he never stopped.
He had guts, no doubt about that. He wasn't the type to roll over and take it. He trained harder than anyone she knew, yet his strength barely improved. That was the only thing anyone could fault him for—being weak. Everything else about him? No complaints.
"I've decided!" Kushina suddenly said, all fired up. "From now on, Hayata, you're my little bro! I'm gonna protect you! If anyone messes with you, I'll mess them up!"
Hayato kept his head down and muttered, almost too quietly to hear, "Th-thanks..."
Even though he knew Kushina meant well, being a guy and needing protection from a little girl—it stung. Badly.
As he left the ninja academy, lips pressed tight, Hayato ignored the aching in his arms, both of which were wrapped in old, ragged bandages. He still headed straight for his training spot.
He knew his training wasn't helping much, but he couldn't give up. Not now.
"Hey! Stop right there!"
He'd barely stepped out of the school gates when a shout rang out. Then came that familiar, smug, punchable face—Ichiro Koizumi.
"Hayata, you dumbass loser!" Ichiro sneered, standing tall like a jerk royalty. "Always hiding behind girls like a coward. But today's your lucky day. I'm giving you one chance. Kneel. Now. And stop looking at me like that, or I'll gouge your eyes out."
Hayato's fists clenched as anger burned in his chest. Just seeing that face was enough to make him snap.
"What?! You still looking at me like that?" Ichiro shouted, suddenly sounding a little rattled. Hayato's glare had shaken him—but only for a moment. His fear twisted into rage. "Think you can scare me, you little freak?!"
He charged at Hayato.
"Go to hell!" Hayato roared, rage finally spilling over. He lunged forward first, meeting Ichiro head-on.
"What the—?!"
Ichiro wasn't expecting that. Hayato's fist landed right on his face, catching him off guard. But Ichiro's shock didn't last long—his fist smashed into Hayato, knocking him down. He pounced, straddling him and pounding him with punch after punch.
Hayato thrashed and fought back. His eyes were blazing, so full of fury they practically glowed.
"You still daring to glare at me?" Ichiro shouted, face twisted with hate. "You think I won't rip your eyeballs out? You're just a nobody! An orphan! A piece of trash! Even if I beat you to death, nobody's gonna care! Keep glaring and see what happens!"
Driven by that madness, Ichiro suddenly reached down, fingers clawing for Hayato's eyes.
"AAAH!"
A scream ripped through the air.
Just before Ichiro could dig into Hayato's eyes, Hayato bit down—hard—on Ichiro's fingers. His teeth sank in deep, breaking skin. Blood spilled. The pain made Ichiro scream like a banshee.
"Let go! Let go of my hand, you freak!" Ichiro howled, flailing in panic.
The noise drew the attention of a Konoha Police officer—a chūnin from the Uchiha clan.
Wham!
Without a word, the Uchiha kicked Hayato square in the face. Hayato's teeth unclenched instantly, and the kick sent him flying across the ground like a ragdoll.
"Ugh, trash like you dares to bite someone?" the Uchiha chūnin sneered, glancing at the bleeding Ichiro with obvious contempt, then turned and walked off like none of it mattered.
Ichiro caught that look. Even though he was the victim, the officer had clearly looked down on him too. The shame and fury twisted in his gut.
"You damn bastard!" he screamed and ran over to Hayato, who was barely conscious, and kicked him viciously.
"You loser! Idiot! Worthless piece of garbage! You actually bit me?! You dared to fight back?! I'll beat you to death! I'll kick your damn face in!"
He went wild, punching and kicking, shouting all kinds of curses without a care for whether Hayato lived or died.
Inside Hayato's heart, a single drop of grey blood floated in silence.
Every time blood flowed through his heart, a bit of its energy was absorbed by that grey droplet. The blood that came out on the other side was lifeless and dull, drained of vitality.
But this time, something changed.
A faint, invisible flame began to burn around the droplet—tiny at first, but fueled by an overwhelming flood of rage. The fire grew, stronger and stronger, until finally...
The droplet of grey blood began to melt.
The fire consumed it, used the rage as fuel, and dissolved it completely. The essence of that strange grey blood now flowed through Hayato's entire body, seeping into every cell.
Back in the real world—where Hayato was still getting mercilessly beaten—something shifted.
His eyes, half-lidded and dull, suddenly took on a faint green glow.
His broken, bleeding body began to recover. Muscles that were small and underdeveloped swelled, gaining strength. His frail figure began to grow bigger, tougher.
Ichiro kept hitting him, oblivious to what was happening.
"You worthless, stupid—ahh—freak—how dare you hit me, how dare you bite me! I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!"
He raged like a madman.
But then, he noticed something wasn't right. Hayato wasn't moving anymore. Not twitching, not groaning, nothing.
He froze. "W-wait... did I... did I really kill him?"
A chill ran down Ichiro's spine. He swallowed hard, fear creeping into his heart. He was only six or seven, after all. This might be a brutal ninja world, but he hadn't seen real war. Killing someone wasn't some casual thing to him.
"RRRRAAAAAAGH!!!"
"....."