Naruto: System of Zoro

**Chapter 9 - Slaying the Chūnin**

Yūhi Kurenai rolled her eyes at Kazane but didn't say a word, her irritation barely concealed.

They finished their meal in silence, quickly extinguishing the campfire before settling side by side on a flat rock. The last remnants of daylight stretched across the sky, bathing the horizon in deep hues of gold and crimson. The sun dipped lower, its fading glow reflected in the river's gentle ripples.

Kazane leaned back on his hands, staring at the view. Even in this world of bloodshed and chaos, moments like these made everything feel almost normal.

But then, his body tensed. His senses sharpened.

Something wasn't right.

His head turned sharply toward the dense forest behind them.

Rustle. Rustle.

The faint, deliberate sound of movement carried through the trees. The rhythmic swaying of branches wasn't the erratic shifting of wind but the careful steps of something—or someone—moving through the undergrowth.

The rear mountain was usually deserted at this hour. Most of the academy students had gone home, and there were no patrols scheduled in this area. Yet, someone was approaching.

Kazane narrowed his eyes, his mind racing.

If this was just another academy student, they would've called out upon noticing the campfire. But this person was moving quietly, deliberately avoiding detection.

Instinct took over.

Without a word, he grabbed Kurenai's wrist and pulled her behind a large boulder, pressing a finger to his lips in a silent signal to stay quiet.

The footsteps grew louder, drawing closer.

Whoosh. Whoosh.

The rustling passed just beside them, then gradually faded into the distance. Whoever it was had moved on.

Kazane exhaled slowly. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe he was being too cautious.

Just as he was about to step out with Kurenai, ready to return to their quiet evening—

Shing! Shing!

A sharp whistling sound sliced through the air.

Silver flashes streaked toward them, reflecting the last traces of sunlight.

Shuriken.

Not one, not two—but an entire barrage of seven or eight, flying at deadly angles.

Kazane's pupils shrank.

The attack was precise. The spread and trajectory weren't random; they were designed to seal off all escape routes. If he had been alone, a simple retreat would've been enough to avoid the danger. But Kurenai was behind him.

*Damn it.*

His body moved before his mind could finish the thought.

Kazane unsheathed his wooden practice sword, gripping it tightly. With a burst of movement, he swung.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Each strike was precise, deflecting the shuriken mid-flight. Sparks flew as steel clashed against reinforced wood. The force behind the attack sent a dull vibration through his arms, but he held his ground.

With the final deflection, he leaped onto a nearby rock, scanning the direction from which the attack had come.

In the dimming twilight, a figure emerged from the tree line.

The person wore a Konoha forehead protector, but something felt wrong. His stance, his presence—it all felt unnatural.

Kazane's gaze sharpened, studying him carefully.

The man's face was weathered, his skin carrying a distinct reddish hue—one that only came from prolonged exposure to sea winds. The thick salt air of the ocean left its mark on those who lived by it.

A fisherman's complexion.

A coastal ninja.

But Konoha was landlocked.

Kazane's grip on his sword tightened. This man wasn't a shinobi of the Leaf.

And he had attacked with real, sharpened shuriken.

This wasn't a test. This wasn't a mistake either judging by the murderous intent in the man's eyes.

He was an enemy from Kirigakure. The Village Hidden in the Mist.

The man, Matsunine Tōichirō, locked eyes with Kazane, his gaze filled with cold calculation. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, drawing a short sword in a swift, practiced motion before slashing down at the boy.

Matsunine was no ordinary enemy. He was a chūnin-ranked scout from the Hidden Mist, an expert in sensory techniques and covert operations. He had survived countless dangers to infiltrate the Land of Fire, tasked with gathering intelligence on Konoha's defenses where survival hinged on instincts sharper than a blade.

But before he could even approach the village, he had sensed Kazane and Kurenai nearby.

At first, he had hesitated, his training urging caution. But upon closer examination, his wariness faded.

Just two children.

Their chakra reserves were low, and their skills were likely negligible. Not even genin. Nothing more than minor inconveniences in his path.

Still, he had approached strategically, employing a clone jutsu to create false movement sounds in the distance. He watched from the shadows as they fell for the distraction, and when their guards came down.

That was when he struck.

In the world of shinobi, Konoha was a death trap for spies. Of every ten infiltrators, only three returned alive.

But now, he had an easy way out from this dangerous.

If he killed these two brats and presented their unrecognizable severed heads, he could fabricate a believable cover story. He would claim that he had walked into an ambush, barely escaping with his life. His superiors would likely buy it.

But for that to happen—

These two had to die.

---

Matsunine wasted no time. He lunged at Kazane, drawing a short sword from his hip and slashing with precision honed over years of experience.

Kazane reacted instantly, raising his wooden practice sword to parry. The impact sent a sharp jolt up his arms, but he held his ground.

Matsunine narrowed his eyes. The boy had actually blocked his attack.

That was unexpected.

Still, he dismissed the thought just as quickly.

He was a full-fledged chūnin.

His opponent was an eight- or nine-year-old child.

There was no scenario where he would lose.

He stepped forward, pressing the attack with a flurry of swift, calculated strikes.

"Let's end this quickly," he muttered under his breath.

They were too close to Konoha. A prolonged battle would increase the risk of drawing attention. And if Anbu operatives caught wind of his presence, he was as good as dead.

His blade slashed through the air—

And with a single, decisive swing—

Kazane's wooden swords shattered one by one.

The splintered fragments scattered across the ground, the remnants of his only weapon.

Matsunine smirked. "You should have run when you had the chance, kid."

Kazane clenched his fists. His mind raced. He had underestimated the gap in raw strength between them. His wooden sword—without the reinforcement of Armament Haki—had stood no chance against a real, sharpened blade.

He had only one option left.

"The First Gate—open!"

A sudden surge of power coursed through his body. His muscles tightened, his blood flow accelerated, and an intense green aura erupted around him.

Matsunine instinctively took a step back.

The air around Kazane crackled with raw energy, the sheer force of the Eight Gates Release technique causing the ground beneath him to tremble slightly.

"A forbidden jutsu? This brat is hiding something," Matsunine muttered, eyes narrowing.

But he wasn't foolish enough to charge recklessly.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent six shuriken hurtling toward Kazane before leaping backward to gain distance.

If this kid had access to forbidden techniques, there was no telling how long he could sustain them. But chakra control at this age was unstable. The moment Kazane's body reached its limit, the recoil would be devastating.

All Matsunine had to do was wait.

Kazane exhaled sharply, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

*I have no weapon. If he slashes me a few times, I might die.*

His mind worked quickly, running through his options. He needed something to counter Matsunine's sword.

And he had just the thing.

With a flick of his hand, he accessed his system inventory—

And drew Wadō Ichimonji.

The katana gleamed in the dim light, its pristine white scabbard stark against the darkening sky.

With a single swift motion, Kazane unsheathed the blade, its polished steel catching the last rays of sunlight.

Matsunine's eyes narrowed.

"So that's what he was planning," he murmured, partially confused where the sword had come from.

The boy had baited him into close combat. Had he charged in recklessly, he might have walked straight into a counterattack.

Good thing he hadn't.

But now, the real fight was about to begin.

Kazane lowered his stance, his grip tightening around the hilt. His heart pounded, but his resolve remained firm.

"This is where it ends."

Matsunine smirked.

"You're just a brat," he said. "Let me show you real jutsu."

He formed a quick sequence of hand seals.

"Water Release: Water Bullet Barrage!"

A series of high-speed water bullets shot toward Kazane, each one carrying enough force to shatter bone on impact.

Kazane didn't dodge.

Instead, he charged straight into the attack.

Kurenai, watching from the sidelines, gasped in horror.

"Stop! You'll get yourself killed!"

She sprinted forward, intending to shield him from the onslaught.

But Kazane sighed internally.

*Damn it. Women really do slow me down.*

With a swift motion, he grabbed Kurenai and yanked her behind him, shielding her with his own body. The water bullets struck him head-on, sending sharp jolts of pain through his torso.

But he didn't stop.

He pushed forward, step by step, closing the distance between him and Matsunine.

The Mist ninja's expression shifted.

He was running out of time.

Every second he lingered increased the likelihood of Konoha's forces detecting his presence. He needed to wrap this up and retreat before Anbu arrived.

"You got lucky, kid," Matsunine muttered, already preparing to disengage. "I'll let you live."

However, turning his back was his biggest mistake.

"Single Sword-style... Lion's strike."

A flash of silver.

Kazane's blade moved in a perfect arc, accompanied by a blur of motion too fast to track.

The world seemed to freeze.

Matsunine stood still, his lips slightly parted as if trying to speak.

A single, thin red line appeared across his torso.

Then, his body split cleanly in two.