Chapter 13: Conflict Begins

Chapter 13: The Conflict Arises

Seeing Obito so determined, Soraki could only comfort himself: Obito hasn't experienced any setbacks yet. When he challenges Kakashi and fails time and again, that's when it'll be the right moment to console him.

After finishing his bento, Soraki pulled out a water flask from his bag, took a couple of sips, and felt the cool water wash away his fatigue. He then passed the flask to Obito, who was nearly choking on his food. Though Soraki wasn't fond of sharing his flask, Obito's pitiful expression made him relent, albeit grudgingly.

"What a pain," Soraki muttered to himself. But thinking that Obito would become the future big boss, Soraki decided it wouldn't hurt to stay on his good side. After all, making friends always had its benefits.

After eating, Soraki felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him. The warm sunlight made his eyelids heavy, and he yawned, considering finding a quiet spot to take a nap.

Meanwhile, Obito was full of energy, swinging gleefully on the swing set, lost in the simple joy of the moment. For Obito, life seemed perfect at that moment: he had made a true friend, earned the approval of that friend's family, and his days were carefree.

"Obito, you keep playing. I'm going to find a place to sleep," Soraki said lazily as he started to rise. But just as he stood up, an obnoxious voice shouted from behind him, "Hey, kid! Get off that swing, my big brother wants to use it!" The shout was loud and rude, cutting through the peaceful air like a knife.

Soraki, halfway up, paused and sank back down onto the swing, his expression darkening. Seriously? Do they not know the future big boss is here? Soraki thought, sneering internally at the group approaching.

Soraki had no intention of giving up the swing so easily. If they had come up politely and asked, he might've considered leaving, since he wasn't particularly fond of swings anyway. But being ordered around like this immediately made him stubborn, and he decided there was no way he would back down without a fight.

Schools were like miniature societies: being too nice often meant getting bullied. Soraki looked up, his face showing clear displeasure as he sized up the three approaching boys. The one in the middle, clearly the leader, had the Uchiha clan crest on his clothes. What a joke, Soraki thought with a smirk. Obito, are all Uchiha like this now?

"Does the Uchiha clan really think they can get away with this behavior?" Soraki mused. He watched them approach, feeling more amused than intimidated. Taking on a couple of underlings? How lame. If you're going to have lackeys, at least pick ones with some real strength.

Before Soraki could make another comment, Obito's face paled as he recognized the approaching figure. "Roku-sama…" he muttered, clearly uncomfortable.

"Well, well, if it isn't the future Hokage, Uchiha Obito!" sneered Uchiha Roku, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He glanced at Soraki and added, "And who's this? You've managed to rope in a sidekick? How pathetic."

Soraki rolled his eyes. Is this guy for real? He thought, incredulous that an Uchiha could be such a fool. He knew not every member of the clan was strong or smart, but seeing someone like Roku reminded him just how much the clan had to improve.

"Alright, Obito," Roku said dismissively. "I'm taking the swing. You and your little friend, scram."

Obito hesitated, clearly torn. He and Soraki had been there first, but Uchiha pride made it difficult for him to stand up to a fellow clan member. He didn't want to cause a scene, but he also didn't want to appear weak in front of his new friend. Soraki watched the internal struggle on Obito's face and hoped that his friend would find some backbone.

To Soraki's surprise and satisfaction, Obito didn't disappoint. "Sorry, Roku-sama, but we were here first. You'll have to find another swing." Obito's voice, though firm, carried a hint of nervousness. Still, he remained seated, refusing to back down.

Roku's eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn't expected Obito, usually so submissive, to stand up to him. Before he could respond, Soraki chimed in, "Didn't you hear him? He said, 'find another place.'"

Roku's face flushed red with anger, his gaze flickering between Soraki and Obito. "What did you just say?" he snarled, his voice rising with rage.

Soraki and Obito exchanged a glance. Despite the tension, there was an unspoken understanding between them. They were ready for whatever came next.

Roku, too, was seething, but before he could make a move, Soraki decided to egg him on. "If a dog barks at me like this, Obito, I'd cook it up in a hot pot and show it what it's like to be a meal," Soraki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Obito's face twitched, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.

"You little brat, you're dead!" Roku snapped, his attention now fully focused on Soraki. He gestured to his two lackeys. "Teach him a lesson."

Without hesitation, the blond boy stepped forward, his hand grabbing Soraki's shoulder. "Do you even know who you're messing with, kid?" he said menacingly, cocking his fist back to punch.

Soraki's eyes flashed. Just as the fist was about to hit, Soraki grabbed the boy's arm and twisted it sharply. A loud crack echoed through the air as the boy's wrist snapped.

Soraki had to admit, he hadn't expected it to be that easy. Is this the effect of chakra? he wondered. He'd always known that chakra enhanced physical abilities, but it seemed even his strength had significantly improved after just one night of training.

Before the blond boy could react, Soraki was already moving. He rose to his feet and delivered a swift kick to the boy's shoulder, another crack signaling that the bone had shattered. The boy crumpled to the ground, howling in pain.

Soraki felt no remorse. If anything, the boy was lucky Soraki hadn't aimed for his head. He didn't mind hurting people—after all, becoming a ninja meant dealing with blood sooner or later—but killing a classmate on school grounds? That was a mess he didn't want to deal with.

Standing over the groaning boy, Soraki pressed his foot down on his hand, twisting it slightly. The boy screamed even louder, his voice breaking as the pain became too much to bear.

From the shadows, a long-haired, pale-faced man watched with interest, a sinister smile curling his lips. "Interesting," he muttered, his long tongue flicking out like a snake's. "Very interesting."

Soraki then turned his attention to the second lackey, a black-haired boy sporting a nose ring. The boy's face had gone pale, his confidence draining away as he realized just how dangerous Soraki was.

"I'm not here to play nice," Soraki said, his tone icy. The boy took one look at Soraki and made a split-second decision.

With a loud cry, the nose-ringed boy turned and bolted, tears streaming down his face as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He tripped twice in his haste but didn't dare look back.

"Am I really that scary?" Soraki muttered to himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He turned to look at Obito and Roku, both of whom were frozen in shock.

Roku, however, still tried to muster up some bravado. "D-Don't come any closer! I'm an Uchiha!" His voice wavered, and his feet instinctively shuffled back, betraying his fear.

"Relax," Soraki said nonchalantly, kicking the unconscious blond boy aside and sitting back down on the swing. "Obito will take care of you."

"Obito?" Roku scoffed, glaring at his cousin. "You think I'm afraid of him?"

But Obito, fueled by years of pent-up frustration, snapped. With no warning, he lunged forward, his right fist swinging wildly at Roku's face.

Roku barely managed to block the punch, but the force sent him stumbling to the side. Obito wasn't done. Without missing a beat, he leapt into the air, aiming a powerful kick at Roku's head.

Roku ducked just in time, the kick whistling past and ruffling his hair. He quickly regained his footing, his expression darkening as he realized this wasn't going to be an easy fight.

"You've got guts, Obito," Roku said, adopting a defensive stance. "But don't think you can win so easily." His eyes narrowed as he prepared to strike back, both physically and mentally. Psychological warfare was as much a part of combat as any punch or kick.