Naruto: Born Gifted in Konoha

Kakashi watched the two leave, his eyes showing helplessness, yet he turned his gaze toward Saitama.

"Come on, let me show you around."

Even though he was usually aloof, Kakashi became more approachable around Saitama.

"Sure!"

Saitama nodded and followed him.

"Kakashi, you're going to become a Jonin soon, right?"

Walking side by side with Kakashi, Saitama suddenly asked.

Before leaving, Saitama had already been promoted to Jonin ahead of schedule due to his impressive battle record. This was an emergency wartime promotion, so there were no Jonin missions required to complete.

Moreover, Saitama's strength had clearly caught Konoha High-level's attention—how many enemy ninja had he already defeated? He was undoubtedly qualified for the Jonin rank.

"Hmm, planning to apply after some time."

Kakashi glanced sideways at Saitama and nodded.

"Saitama must already be a Jonin, otherwise you wouldn't ask like that."

Kakashi continued.

"Huh? Haha!" Saitama scratched his head and laughed.

Straightening his head, Kakashi coldly stared forward.

Since his father's suicide, he had hidden himself behind a mask, unwilling to reveal his inner feelings to others.

Although he'd become teammates with Obito and Rin, bonds had unknowingly connected them all together, but he still pretended to not care about anything.

He wanted to become a true Ninja, yet his father's fate remained like a thorn stuck deep in his heart.

"Leaving this topic aside, have you perfected your Chidori recently?"

When they last spoke, Kakashi's ninjutsu still had certain flaws, so Saitama shared his own experiences.

With Kakashi's talent, he must've improved it already!

Saitama wasn't too sure.

"Hmm, thanks to you, I've perfected Chidori. I modified it into a form more suitable for myself—it no longer requires such extreme dynamic vision, and now feels fully under control when used."

Kakashi looked forward; nobody could see the expression beneath his mask, but his tone carried sincere gratitude.

"Oh, that's pretty good!" Saitama glanced at the white tanto behind Kakashi's back—it was his father White Fang's sword, naturally passed down to Kakashi after his death.

They changed direction, heading toward a less crowded area.

"Kakashi, do you also use a blade?"

Saitama stared at Kakashi's sword, realizing he might be asking a silly question, but Kakashi still nodded.

Ever since he inherited his father's blade, he had carried one dream in his heart—to promote the Hatake clan's swordsmanship, or even allow his father's sword to once again gain fame throughout the Shinobi World.

Therefore, he never abandoned Hatake sword techniques, nor ever parted ways from his father's blade.

"Have you thought about other ways to use Chidori? Something like this, for example."

Beside Kakashi, Saitama acted like a mentor, guiding him patiently.

As he spoke, electricity surged forth in Saitama's hand, swirling around his arm.

"The principle behind Chidori is continuous compression and condensation, then releasing all that power into a single point."

"And this Chidori Current is just a basic technique for auxiliary combat, especially suitable for close-range swordsmen like us."

Saitama signaled to Kakashi, and the arcs of electricity around his arm gradually disappeared.

Kakashi, watching all this, kept his eyes widened in amazement. His excitement was obvious even beneath his mask.

"Saitama, you're amazing!"

Kakashi couldn't help but praise him. This had given him a new direction for improvement. Although he already had some initial ideas regarding Lightning Release techniques, he knew Saitama's approach suited his current fighting style best.

When Kakashi first created the Chidori, though it possessed great power, he struggled to handle the visual strain caused by the high speed required to perform it—his dynamic vision wasn't sufficient. Thanks to Saitama's earlier guidance, he had gradually improved in this area.

Although the improved form of the jutsu lost a bit of its original power, it became more compatible with a ninja like Kakashi who lacked the Sharingan and had average dynamic vision.

The Chidori was good, yet never quite meshed well with the Hatake sword techniques until now—Saitama's insights had opened up a clear path forward.

"Thank you!"

Kakashi actually said those two words softly, but Saitama still recognized them as coming straight from Kakashi's heart.

Saitama waved it off casually and gestured for Kakashi to give it a try.

In truth, Saitama didn't help Kakashi without reason.

Kakashi was a genius held back by the Sharingan, another prodigy crushed under Konoha's heavy traditions.

He was naturally talented, came from a good background, but his father's suicide had left a deep shadow on his soul.

Even though he could have become stronger and advanced to the level of an elite ninja, receiving the Sharingan transplant ended up holding back his growth.

Without the Sharingan, he wouldn't have gained his "Copy Ninja" reputation, but the Hatake sword techniques alone were no less impressive. Without the Sharingan, Kakashi might have become the next "Legend of the White Fang."

Their paths might have differed, but when it came to achievements, Saitama believed the original Kakashi—the one before the Sharingan—was far more impressive.

Rather than that phony "Copy Ninja!"

Focusing on Kakashi's outstretched arm, Saitama could see sparks of electricity dancing over it. Though imperfect since it was Kakashi's first attempt, the effort looked convincing enough.

Saitama remained silent and watched quietly as Kakashi kept trying, experimenting with his own rhythm.

Half an hour passed.

"Kakashi, not bad at all!"

Saitama smiled as he looked at the blue-white arcs swirling around Kakashi's right arm.

"Zap!"

Due to a momentary slip, the lightning arced into Kakashi's sleeve, scorching it slightly.

"Hmm!"

Kakashi immediately stopped channeling chakra and rubbed his silver hair.

"Not very polished yet!"

Kakashi spoke to Saitama, his eyes gleaming with joy.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it slowly."

Saitama nodded, signaling it was time to head back. They had been out here for quite a while, and he figured Minato Namikaze and Shikaku probably finished discussing their administrative matters by now.

Through this whole incident, Saitama and Kakashi unknowingly grew much closer.

...

"Kakashi! Saitama!"

Just as he reached the command tent, Saitama saw Rin and Obito waiting outside. It was Rin who spoke.

They both gave slight nods by way of greeting.

"Tch!"

Obito nodded toward Saitama, then made a dismissive sound at Kakashi.

Kakashi didn't mind—it was just part of his usual routine with Obito, who always seemed to disapprove of him.

"Teacher's still in the meeting. It should end soon!" 

Rin explained as she stepped closer to Kakashi.

"Uh-huh!" 

Saitama glanced at the curtain covering the entrance, wondering whether he should go in, when suddenly it was pulled aside from within.

A flash of golden hair appeared before them—it was their familiar Minato Namikaze—and behind him followed the Ino–Shika–Cho trio.

"Teacher!" 

Rin called out, jogging up to Minato with a smile on her face.

"Hmm!" 

Minato scanned the group warmly, the way a familiar big brother might.

"You must all be starved by now. Grab something to eat, and we'll talk again this afternoon!" 

Minato wiped beneath his nose briefly before addressing the whole group.

And so, the large group marched together toward the camp canteen.

...

In the afternoon, Saitama attended a meeting where he briefly introduced himself to the jonin-level shinobi present—just enough to get his face recognized.

Many people already knew about Saitama and mostly respected his strength, not underestimating him despite his young age and unusual background.

As a powerful ninja, Saitama had been given an important assignment by Minato Namikaze—as captain of the vanguard unit!

He was tasked with leading assaults on the enemy's strongest defenses, breaking through so other ninja units could follow!

Saitama accepted willingly. This position suited him best—if they tried to coddle him too much, Saitama knew he'd lose his mind.

After the meeting, Saitama went directly to the vanguard unit's base to meet its members. They showed no hostility toward him. As long as someone possessed sufficient strength, none of them cared who their captain was—the stronger their leader, the higher their chances of surviving the mission!

Besides, this was a direct order from Minato Namikaze. Saitama noticed that on this battlefield, Minato's reputation ran extremely high; the level of compliance commanded by his orders rivaled even those issued by the Third Hokage personally.

...

In the darkness, something was watching from just beyond Konoha's main camp, unnoticed by anyone.

A massive stone statue, hideous and grotesque, with countless black rods extending from it, stretching out toward a specific location.

That was a chair, and the figure seated upon it remained unseen, while those black rod-like objects connected straight into the seat itself.

Squeak!

The faint sound of fabric rubbing against stone!

In the dark, a pair of crimson eyes flickered briefly before returning to normal black-and-white pupils.

Drip!

Underground, the atmosphere was damp.

Right in front of the chair, a pale figure emerged from the ground, standing there in an instant.

Hair resembling grass, a genderless physique, and unnaturally unsettling skin tone—this was White Zetsu!

"Lord Madara!

"The secondary target you requested to monitor has arrived here now."

White Zetsu looked toward the chair.

Creak!

A scraping sound drew near.

An old man hunched forward, approaching White Zetsu in a pitch-black robe like a Shinigami's shroud.

Although he appeared ancient, his imposing aura pressed down on White Zetsu, holding him motionless.

"Good. Keep observing. Ignore anything else!"

Madara Uchiha's eyes locked onto White Zetsu, thoughts swirling behind them.

Time was slipping away—the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path could only keep him alive for so long.

A determined glint flared deep within his gaze; Madara seemed to have made his choice.

Ever since his battle with Hashirama Senju, he had remained hidden here, prolonging his life through the Rinnegan-summoned Demonic Statue while plotting and maneuvering his future schemes.

Now time was short, yet everything had finally fallen into place. All that remained was to find the chosen one who would carry out his plans!

No need to hurry. He still needed time—to weigh and test.

Madara narrowed his eyes. The wrinkles across his face deepened.

"Black Zetsu!"

He uttered two words and shifted his gaze aside.

From the darkness emerged an even darker figure.

Black Zetsu stepped forward, standing silently before Madara, staring at him without speaking.

His role now was to embody Madara's will—any action deviating from Madara's true intentions would raise suspicion at this critical moment, possibly unraveling a thousand years of planning.

Madara silently stared at the living embodiment of his will. After several minutes, he turned and settled back onto the throne.

The black rod trailing beneath him briefly came into view—a strange tangle of tubes. As he moved, they scraped continuously against the rocky floor.

Huuu!

A crimson gleam flashed in his eyes before he closed them again. This was merely one from his stockpile—a standard Three-Tomoe Sharingan.

Yet on him, it performed just as well as a Mangekyou.

"Continue monitoring the target according to plan!"

His low voice echoed through the chamber. Black Zetsu vanished into darkness while White Zetsu slowly melted into the earth.

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