"I didn't expect the Son of the Hokage to visit our village—this is truly an honor for Green Bank."
Kiri carried a plate of carefully prepared fruit desserts as she walked toward Boruto, a gentle but slightly reserved smile on her face.
"You're too kind. I'm just here for a bit of fun," Boruto said, waving his hand casually.
Konohamaru's eyes swept over Boruto and the others. He muttered to himself, half-amused, half-annoyed.
During the graduation exam I didn't use my full strength, and Boruto looked down on me.
Being underestimated by my own student is a disgrace—I'll have to show them what I can do.
He refocused on Hotaru.
Hotaru stared at Konohamaru, mind racing.
This is my chance to escape. I can't beat the Son of the Hokage, but if I catch this Jonin off-guard, maybe—just maybe—I'll survive.
The fight exploded in an instant. Hotaru's figure blurred as he darted at Konohamaru, kunai whistling through the air.
Konohamaru reacted with equal speed: a sidestep, a backhanded kunai thrown toward Hotaru's waist.
Startled, Hotaru flipped back just in time and sent another kunai flying.
Konohamaru leaped, twisted in the air, and landed into close quarters again.
The two clashed, blades ringing; sparks flew with every strike like a blacksmith's hammer hitting steel.
Villagers watched, mouths open, breath held.
"Konohamaru-sensei seems to be holding back…" someone whispered.
Sarada peeled a sweet orange with quick fingers and brought a segment to Boruto. "Here—have some fruit. Watching Konohamaru-sensei isn't that exciting."
Boruto popped the orange segment into his mouth and sighed. "Why are they just clashing blades? Use jutsu."
Konohamaru, listening to the banter while staying in stance, couldn't help the small, bitter smile tugging at his lips.
Then he turned up the pressure and struck with full force, sending Hotaru flying from the impact.
"What—this power… he was holding back!" Hotaru gasped.
"Rasengan!" Konohamaru roared. A rapidly spinning blue sphere of chakra condensed in his palm.
"Just a normal Rasengan? Boring," Boruto snorted, unimpressed—until he saw what happened next.
Hotaru's face drained of color. He felt the raw force of the incoming attack; the impact would be catastrophic if it connected. He channeled chakra frantically.
"Earth Release: Earth Dragon Bullet!" Hotaru shouted, forming seals.
The ground trembled; an enormous dragon of earth rose up and lunged at Konohamaru, teeth bared, to intercept the Rasengan.
Konohamaru didn't flinch.
He increased the rotation in his Rasengan; white air swirled around the blue sphere—Wind Release infused into the Rasengan, the vortex roaring outward.
Wind Release Rasengan, Boruto thought, eyes narrowing. Not the Wind Release Rasengan Shuriken, but still… how strong is this?
The Rasengan slammed into the earth-dragon. Light exploded. A shockwave ripped outward; dust and debris swallowed the scene for a heartbeat.
When the dust cleared, Konohamaru stood firm where he'd been.
In front of him yawned a long, spiral-shaped pit gouged deep into the road. There was no Hotaru—only a dark, bloody pool at the bottom.
Hit by a Wind Release Rasengan… not even a trace left? Boruto thought, stunned.
"This… how is that possible? It's like a god's power," someone murmured.
Villagers clustered around the wound in the ground, whispering in disbelief.
Kiri dropped the fruit plate; it clattered, forgotten, on the tiles as shock clouded her face.
"Might as well call him Konohamaru Sage," Mitsuki said quietly. "That Rasengan—amazing."
"Yeah," Sarada said. "Konohamaru-sensei having this is believable. He was strong even as a kid. He's only gotten better."
Konohamaru allowed himself a small, conflicted smile. It was over the top, he thought, but worth it just to hear the students praise me.
Boruto watched the crater thoughtfully. The Wind Release Rasengan doesn't look flashy like some shuriken variation, but the power is on par. Not bad at all.
Then the scene fractured again.
Ashimaru lay on the ground, pale and terrified. A scruffy middle-aged man—Iori—stood over him, eyes cold.
He moved toward the long blade Ashimaru had dropped, picked it up, and finished the job.
A scream ripped through the air as the blade pierced Ashimaru. Blood poured out, staining the road.
"Iori, what are you doing?!" someone shouted.
Iori's voice was tight, his face taut. "That man killed many villagers. His death is deserved. I'm helping the village rid itself of a menace—no more, no less."
But Ashimaru, with his last strength, pointed weakly at Iori and rasped out, "It was him… who hired… us…"
Silence fell like a lead weight. Ashimaru's eyes glazed over; his chest stilled.
Iori's face went ashen. He had just sealed his fate.
The villagers surged forward, furious, surrounding him. Iori crumpled to the ground, drained and defeated—there was nowhere left to run.
Konohamaru looked between Kiri and the crowd, rubbing his chin. "Not ninja hired by the Valley of Azure, then?"
"Internal betrayal among their own people?" Kiri whispered.
Boruto scoffed, turning away. "Boring. I'm done watching. Let's go."
...
Author's Note:
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