Kakashi was a sensible kid. Understanding exactly what Hagoromo was getting at, he spoke up as well. "Minato-sensei, we should probably take our leave as well."
"What? Leaving already? I was planning on having a 'fated duel' with Hagoromo! Besides, I haven't finished today's training regimen yet. I wanted to ask Sensei to..."
Obito was clearly dissatisfied with the sudden request to disband.
A fated duel? Since when did Obito get infected by that spandex-wearing, bowl-cut kappa?
Hagoromo facepalmed. Read the room, Obito. Seriously, read the room.
"Obito, we really should head out," Rin said firmly.
"Uh, alright. Since Rin says so..." Obito scratched the back of his head sheepishly, finally agreeing to call it a day.
It didn't take Kakashi's logic or Hagoromo's intervention to stop Obito when he went off the rails. A single look or word from Rin Nohara was enough to KO him instantly.
Minato, ever the graceful teacher, accepted his students' "kindness" with a smile.
"Very well. You all should get some rest. Now that you're back in the village, take the chance to relax—especially you, Obito and Rin."
Minato and Kakashi were veteran Shinobi who had long ago adapted to the rhythm of war. But for Rin and Obito, who had only been on the front lines for three months, the experience was—to be blunt—miserable.
With a seven-day rest period ahead of them, they finally had a chance to breathe within the safety of the village.
Once Minato finished his instructions, the group went their separate ways.
Hagoromo had gotten an up-close look at the Yellow Flash, and the other three had seen the Red-Hot Habanero in action. Everyone had seen enough; it was time to go home.
The only unfortunate part for Hagoromo was that his house was in the same direction as Obito's, meaning he had to endure the latter's nonstop chatter all the way back.
…
The following day, Minato treated the group to BBQ, and naturally, Kamishiro Hagoromo was invited.
In the past, Hagoromo's life had depended entirely on the village orphan stipend. Luxury meals like BBQ were a pipe dream.
Once he became a formal Genin, those subsidies automatically stopped. Neither he nor Kushina-sensei were particularly fond of grinding low-level D-rank missions, so his income remained meager. Unless he mooched off Kushina, BBQ was still off the menu.
Currently, he was praying for Kushina to finish developing the Reverse Four Symbols Seal as soon as possible. As her assistant, he stood to pocket several hundred thousand Ryo from the mission bounty, which would finally allow him to upgrade his lifestyle.
So, when the future Fourth Hokage offered a free meal, did he go?
The answer: Why on earth wouldn't he?
"It's been a long time since I've been back. I've missed the taste of Konoha's BBQ," Minato said after placing their orders.
Given Minato's mission volume and his rank, he was easily among the highest earners in the village. Even if they ate until the restaurant ran out of meat, they wouldn't be able to bankrupt him. Everyone knew this, so they had no intention of holding back.
Rin and Obito were dressed more casually today. Though they still carried a few weapons, they weren't in full mission gear. After a night's sleep, their spirits were much higher.
Resting at the front lines and resting in Konoha were two completely different concepts. In the war zone, you could never drop your guard. In the rear, within the walls of Konoha, safety was a given.
Rin had mentioned that some of their peers had already died. That was a polite way of putting it. The reality was that nearly half of the newly graduated Shinobi had been killed or wounded in just those three months.
Even an elite powerhouse like Minato couldn't guarantee that every battle would go perfectly. The battlefield was a machine of death, and death was an equalizer. It didn't care if you were a Kage-level elite, a nameless Genin, the son of a Hokage, or a total nobody.
But back in Konoha, those who had walked away from the slaughter could temporarily forget the weight of mortality.
…
"Are you two really developing a Forbidden Jutsu?"
The group chatted casually over the sizzling meat. Mostly, it was Minato and Kushina talking while the kids listened.
Actually, Hagoromo wasn't doing much listening; he was shamelessly stuffing his face, too busy eating to talk.
Kushina, currently showing off her "genius student" to Minato, was surprised by his intense reaction.
"Is there a problem?" she asked, clearly displeased. "I taught you plenty of Forbidden Jutsu when you were little. In my eyes, Hagoromo's talent is even higher than yours was."
Minato laughed awkwardly. It seemed Kushina had developed a habit of bruising his ego in front of the younger generation. That wasn't a great sign.
"Well..." Before Minato could finish, Kushina turned to Hagoromo.
"Hagoromo, show your Ninjutsu to Minato."
"In here? Is that really a good idea?" Hagoromo swallowed his food in a hurry, looking hesitant. Performing Ninjutsu in a crowded BBQ joint was usually frowned upon.
When Kushina said "your Ninjutsu," Hagoromo knew exactly what she meant.
Do you guys realize? From this moment on, the future 'Copy Ninja' will truly live up to his name—because his only original jutsu is about to be 'copied' before he even invents it."
"If I told you to show him, then show him. Stop complaining."
"Alright, fine."
After receiving another "gentle" smack on the head, Hagoromo sighed and held out his palm.
The others looked on, confused. What's the point? Is he showing off the shape of his hand?
Kakashi watched Hagoromo closely. The boy was two years older than him, slightly taller, with the same silver-grey hair. However, his skin was somewhat pale, and he didn't look particularly robust.
To be honest, Kakashi didn't know him well. Despite being in the Academy together for six months, Hagoromo had left almost no impression on him. By contrast, he remembered Might Guy vividly.
It's hard to forget someone who challenges you ten times a day.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I will now demonstrate a new Ninjutsu. Please watch closely. This technique is called... Chidori."
As Hagoromo spoke, he raised his forearm, his fingers curled in a relaxed grip. In the next heartbeat, a piercing, high-pitched screech and a blinding flash of lightning erupted in the center of his palm!
The blue lightning danced in his hand as if it were alive. His fingers seemed barely able to suppress the violent mass of Chakra. Danger and destruction flickered in the air, ready to explode at any moment.