Naruto : The Bloodied Spider

Renkai stood at the gates of the Sarutobi compound, arms crossed as he took in his surroundings.

It was Shigeru's idea.

"Come to my family's compound," he had said the day before. "You're always studying in the library. I figured you should see how an actual shinobi family trains."

Renkai had agreed, though he had his reasons. The Sarutobi were well-known for their taijutsu and ninjutsu skills. Observing their methods could help him understand how to counter them.

What he hadn't expected—was Rika inserting herself into the invitation.

"Well, well," she had chimed in, leaning on Shigeru's shoulder with a smirk. "You didn't think you could have an exclusive little training session without me, did you?"

Shigeru had scowled but relented.

And that was how the three of them ended up here.

The Sarutobi compound was vast, a quiet testament to the strength and legacy of one of Konoha's most respected clans. As Renkai stepped through the entrance, flanked by Shigeru and Rika, he felt the subtle shift in atmosphere.

It wasn't just another district of the village—it was a self-contained world.

The walkways were lined with well-maintained stone paths, guiding them past rows of traditional houses with tiled roofs and wooden porches. Elders sat on raised platforms, sipping tea and conversing in hushed tones, while younger shinobi moved with quiet discipline, engaged in training drills or sparring in small groups.

Everywhere he looked, there was structure, history, and tradition.

"This place is different," Renkai murmured.

Shigeru glanced at him and nodded. "We take pride in discipline. Every Sarutobi is expected to contribute, whether through combat, leadership, or knowledge."

Rika, walking beside them, raised an eyebrow. "Sounds exhausting."

Shigeru sighed. "It's just how things are."

Renkai absorbed the sights around him. The harmony between shinobi and family was unlike anything he had experienced in the orphanage or the Academy. He noticed younger children mimicking the katas of their elders, their small hands clenched into fists as they copied the movements with bright-eyed determination.

An older shinobi, likely a retired warrior, corrected their stances with a patient but firm hand.

Even in their downtime, the Sarutobi never stopped training.

His mind processed everything, comparing it to his own experiences. The contrast was stark.

For the Sarutobi, being strong wasn't a personal ambition—it was an expectation.

And Shigeru had grown up in this. No wonder he was so disciplined.

Rika stretched her arms behind her head, glancing around. "So, where are we going?"

Shigeru led them toward the heart of the compound, where a wide training field sat surrounded by tall wooden fences. Several Sarutobi were already there, engaged in close-combat drills.

A few paused as they saw the newcomers—especially Renkai.

He could feel the weight of their curiosity.

An outsider in their domain.

The walk ended with them in a predictable destination.

 Standing in one of the Sarutobi clan's training fields.

A few elders stood in the shadows of a nearby pavilion, speaking in hushed voices. Renkai didn't need to hear them to know they were watching him.

And among them…

Was the Third Hokage himself.

Hiruzen Sarutobi.

Renkai hadn't noticed him at first. He was dressed in his usual robes, standing near the back, barely speaking. But his presence alone sent a ripple through the gathering crowd.

One of the younger Sarutobi members whispered in confusion.

"Why is the Hokage here? He never watches training spars."

An elder replied, voice low.

"The Hokage only observes those who could become… important."

That sent a chill down Renkai's spine.

He had never spoken to Hiruzen directly. The man was the leader of Konoha, a legend—someone who rarely involved himself in something as trivial as an Academy student's training.

Why was he here now?

Rika, standing beside him, caught onto the tension immediately—but, as usual, covered it with humor.

"Well, this just got interesting," she whispered, grinning. "You think he's here to recruit me? Maybe he's finally realized I'm the strongest shinobi in Konoha."

Shigeru ignored her, his usual serious expression even more intense than usual.

Renkai had expected some stares when they arrived at the Sarutobi compound, but he didn't expect the open hostility.

Whispers trailed behind him as they walked through the training fields, Sarutobi clan members pausing mid-drill to glance at him.

Some were curious.

Some were neutral.

And some—

"Weren't you the one who lost to that Academy orphan?"

—were just waiting for a reason to start trouble.

Shigeru stiffened.

Renkai's lips barely twitched, suppressing the smirk threatening to surface.

The voice came from a teenage Sarutobi, older than them, standing near a sparring ring with his arms crossed. His expression was smug, eyes flicking between Shigeru and Renkai with obvious amusement.

"You know, Shigeru," the teen continued, smirking, "I thought you were supposed to be talented. But from what I heard, that fight wasn't even close."

A few younger Sarutobi laughed.

Shigeru's fists clenched.

Rika, standing beside them, grinned. "Ooooh, this is getting good."

Shigeru exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm. "It wasn't a real fight," he muttered. "It was a spar."

The older Sarutobi scoffed. "A spar you lost."

Shigeru said nothing. His posture remained firm, but Renkai could feel the tension rolling off him.

The taunt didn't affect him. But it affected Shigeru.

And that was enough.

Renkai tilted his head slightly, amusement creeping into his voice.

"If you're so interested in how I fight," he said, voice smooth, "why don't you try your luck?"

The words cut through the field like a blade.

The older Sarutobi's eyes flicked to him, narrowing.

Rika gasped dramatically. "Ohhh, he's challenging you now."

The teen's smirk returned, but this time, there was something sharper behind it.

"You think you can take me?"

Renkai shrugged. "Didn't say that." He met the older boy's gaze, unbothered. "Just curious if you can do better than Shigeru."

A dangerous flash crossed the Sarutobi's eyes.

"Fine," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see what you've got."

From the far end of the pavilion, unseen by most—Hiruzen Sarutobi watched.

The two stepped into the training circle. The other Sarutobi gathered, interest growing. It wasn't every day that an outsider fought one of their own in their own compound.

Renkai and Sarutobi Akira faced each other.

The gathered Sarutobi clan members murmured among themselves, intrigued by the challenge. Unlike Shigeru, Akira was older, more experienced—a full-fledged Sarutobi with years of training behind him.

Akira smirked. "Let's dance."

Renkai didn't move. He let Akira make the first move.

Akira rushed forward, fast—much faster than Shigeru had been. His footwork was crisp, precise. A disciplined fighter.

Renkai barely had time to react before a feint came first—a low kick that never landed. Akira's real attack came from above, a downward strike aimed at Renkai's collarbone.

Renkai twisted, letting the punch pass over his shoulder. His fingers flicked.

A kunai shot forward.

Akira saw it. His hand whipped out and caught the kunai mid-air. His grin widened.

"Predictable."

But then—his arm yanked forward.

The kunai was attached to a chakra thread.

Renkai pulled.

Akira's balance wavered for an instant, his body jerked slightly forward.

But unlike Shigeru, Akira reacted instantly.

He let go of the kunai mid-pull and twisted in the air, his legs whipping around as he used the momentum to launch a spinning kick.

Renkai barely ducked in time. The force of the attack sent a gust of wind past his head.

Rika whistled from the sidelines. "Okay, this is actually exciting."

Shigeru remained silent, eyes sharp, watching every move.

Akira landed without breaking momentum and pressed forward, his strikes becoming sharper. More relentless. Each hit was calculated—not reckless. He was testing Renkai's defenses, looking for a pattern.

Renkai sidestepped, weaving through the barrage, but he could feel it.

Akira was closing the gaps faster and faster.

Renkai shifted gears. His hands flicked again—another kunai shot forward. But this time, it wasn't alone.

A second kunai came from an unexpected angle—launched by an unseen chakra thread.

Akira twisted his body, avoiding the first kunai—but the second one nicked his sleeve.

His eyes narrowed.

He's adapting, Renkai thought.

Akira's stance changed. His hands blurred through seals.

"Fire Release: Ember Palm!"

A surge of chakra ignited in his fists. Flames licked at his knuckles.

Close-range fire jutsu. Dangerous.

Renkai's muscles tensed. One hit, and he wouldn't just be bruised—he'd be burned.

Akira pressed forward. His movements tightened, his punches more controlled. He wasn't just attacking wildly—he was herding Renkai.

He knows I rely on evasion. He's limiting my space.

Renkai needed to set Up a Seal—During the Exchange

Renkai knew he needed a distraction to apply a seal mid-fight.

Instead of evading outright, he let Akira's next strike graze him. A minor burn sizzled on his forearm as he redirected the attack, forcing their bodies closer for a split second.

And in that split second—

His other hand brushed against Akira's wrist.

It was quick. A simple touch. A mere moment.

But it was enough.

Renkai's chakra pulsed as he imprinted a chakra restriction seal directly onto Akira's sleeve.

Akira didn't notice. He was too focused on pressing the attack.

Renkai backpedaled—but he wasn't retreating.

He was leading Akira into a false sense of control.

Akira, eager to finish the fight, lunged forward.

And Renkai activated the seal.

A flicker of chakra—

Akira's movement halted mid-step.

His body locked for just a fraction of a second—

But that was all Renkai needed.

A lightning-infused kunai shot forward.

Akira's eyes widened.

He raised his arm at the last second—blocking the kunai with his forearm.

But the electric charge still discharged into his muscles.

His body seized.

And Renkai was already there.

A kunai pressed lightly against Akira's throat.

Silence.

Then—

Akira exhaled sharply. His fists unclenched, the flames around them flickering out.

"You can use fūinjutsu." He wasn't asking.

Renkai nodded.

Shigeru finally exhaled, tension fading.

Rika smirked. "I knew this would be fun."

But the real weight of the fight settled in the silence that followed.

Because from the pavilion—

Hiruzen Sarutobi had seen everything.

He had stood there, unmoving, watching each exchange without a single reaction.

And just as quietly as he had arrived—he turned to leave.

But before he disappeared, he spoke—his voice carrying just enough for Renkai to hear.

"Keep sharpening your mind.

Power fades. Insight does not."

Then he was gone.

The Sarutobi elders exchanged looks, murmuring among themselves.

Renkai barely paid them any attention.

Because he understood what had just happened.

Hiruzen Sarutobi had acknowledged him.

And that meant the village was starting to take notice.