"Oh, so the previous agreement really was just for show," Saitama muttered. He knew that the Uchiha clan and Konoha had made a special arrangement—Uchiha could refrain from participating in the war unless the situation became critical.
This was a protection policy meant to preserve Konoha's key clans. The Hyuga clan had a similar arrangement—but they were the Hyuga, after all.
"The elders think the Uchiha are too powerful, yet they're holding back on the battlefield. They feel like the clan doesn't consider itself truly part of Konoha."
Uchiha Mori's tone was a little strange. In his view, the relationship between the clan and the village had never been smooth. Many of the younger members were openly critical of Konoha, drawing a firm line between family and village.
"What does the captain think?" Saitama asked. He knew Mori was a close aide to Uchiha Fugaku, and many of the clan head's decisions were made after discussions with him.
"What else can we do? The captain doesn't plan to send more troops to the Sand front. But there's also tension with Kirigakure now. The elders want us to deploy forces there instead." Mori sighed, scratching his head.
"So far, the younger generation in the clan hasn't been informed. The captain hasn't decided on who to send."
"Well, it'll probably be next year. I'll be available by then. Count me in," Saitama said with a grin as he casually adjusted the blade at his waist.
"Alright. If there's nothing else, you should get going," Mori waved him off. He knew Fugaku had already spoken to Saitama recently.
Saitama wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and turned to leave. On the far side of the training ground, several members of the Konoha Military Police Force were still practicing. They weren't assigned to the front lines, and Shisui was still away on a mission.
As he walked, Saitama slowed his breathing and adjusted his posture, syncing the rhythm of his movements. Even his sweat began to dry as his body recovered.
This body already has excellent physical capabilities, he thought. With chakra stimulation accelerating cellular activity, my recovery speed has improved significantly.
He remembered that Fugaku had approached him earlier. There must be something important.
Back in the office, Fugaku was still at his desk.
"Yeah." Saitama knocked on the door and stood at attention.
"Come in," came the steady, commanding voice of Uchiha Fugaku.
"Captain," Saitama said as he stepped in, stopping a few meters away from the desk.
"You've been back a few days now. How are you feeling?" Fugaku didn't go straight to the point. Saitama's strength and talent had long caught his attention, and he appreciated the young man.
"The village feels calmer than the front lines, but if things get too calm, we lose our edge," Saitama replied with a hint of a smile.
"I received Lin's report—your performance on the battlefield was impressive. You brought honor to the Uchiha name." Fugaku's tone rose slightly, pride evident in his voice.
As the clan head, it was only natural to feel proud when a fellow clansman earned distinction.
"What are your plans now that you're back?" Fugaku leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands.
"I'll take a few days off, then pick up missions here in the village. I don't plan to return to the front just yet." Saitama answered, eyes meeting Fugaku's.
"That's fine. Konoha is still officially at war, but before a full-scale escalation, we still have many internal missions. Each clan has its own task quotas." Fugaku nodded, leaning back.
"By the way, Shisui returned today. You should go see him—it's been a while."
"Yes, sir. I'll go now if there's nothing else."
"Go ahead."
---
"So you just came back like that?" Shisui asked with a raised eyebrow. He remembered how eager Saitama had been to go to the battlefield.
"What else could I do? You want me to spend New Year's in a trench?" Saitama shook his head. At his current height, he already looked like an older brother next to Shisui.
"Did something happen?" Shisui asked, glancing around cautiously.
"Shisui, what do you think of the war with Sunagakure?"
"Konoha will win. It's just a matter of time," Shisui replied confidently.
"If it's just Sand, I agree. But…"
They were sitting on a bench by the roadside. Shisui sat straight; Saitama leaned back casually.
"The village wants Uchiha to send more troops, not just stay on defense."
Shisui frowned. He knew about the clan agreements. With the current situation, additional deployment felt unnecessary.
"Kiri's been acting up in the east, and Iwa isn't exactly quiet either. Konoha's situation isn't great. I can understand why they want more from us." Shisui spoke thoughtfully.
"Let's not worry about that. It's for the higher-ups and the clan head to decide," Saitama said, laying his head against the back of the bench, sounding a bit resigned.
Despite his strength, he had no real authority yet—his youth and lack of rank were limiting.
"This last mission—I had to escort a noble from the Land of Fire to the Land of Tang. We ran into some Kumo-nin on the way."
"What?" Saitama blinked. Kumo? At this time? Weren't they fighting Iwa? Shouldn't they have no reason to tangle with Konoha right now?
"They were escorting their own envoy to Yu no Kuni," Shisui explained.
Saitama's mind raced. So Kumo is sending diplomats through neutral lands? Are they trying to gain influence or test the waters?
He didn't speak his suspicions aloud.
"The Kumo-nin looked strong—lots of sword users. But… they were a bit shady-looking," Shisui added. "Three of the four we saw were carrying swords."
"Kumogakure is known for its military strength. Many of their ninja specialize in kenjutsu and lightning release." Saitama paused. That description sounded… familiar.
"They also have widely taught body-enhancement jutsu. Their physical stats are higher across the board."
Shisui glanced at Saitama. The resemblance in style hadn't gone unnoticed.
Saitama shrugged. Kumogakure's style was similar to his own, but unlike them, he had built his skills from scratch—piece by piece from memory and instinct.
"I'm going to rest for a few days. The mission wasn't too dangerous, but staying on high alert for that long drains you." Shisui stretched a little, showing rare fatigue.
"I'm heading home. Want to join me for dinner?" Saitama asked as he stood.
"Sure, it's been a while since I had Granny Kaka's cooking," Shisui replied with a grin.
"Then let's go. Want to check in with your mother first?"
"Nah, I saw my dad earlier when I submitted the mission report. Told him I was going to see you."
"Alright." The two shared a knowing smile and dropped the subject.
"What's the battlefield like, Saitama?" Shisui asked suddenly as they walked.
He had noticed a change in his friend—something deeper. It made him uneasy.
"It's far crueler than missions. Missions can be aborted. On the battlefield, it's kill or be killed." Saitama's tone turned cold. He slowed his pace, lost in thought.
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