"What's that guy laughing at?"
Uzumaki Mito's voice was sharp enough to cut through the hum of the courtyard. She caught the smirk curling at the corner of Amamiya Raizen's mouth and instantly decided he was thinking something stupid. Her glare promised retribution.
Across the table, Senju Hashirama and Uzumaki Hiden exchanged curious looks. The way Mito's eyes narrowed at Raizen—it almost looked familiar.
"Don't tell me you two already know each other?" Hashirama asked, half amused.
"Mind your business, tree-head," Raizen muttered, looking away.
Before Mito could fire back, a shout split the garden.
"Do you Uchiha bastards have no shame?!"
Heads turned. Near the far edge of the courtyard, Uchiha and Hyūga shinobi were already squaring off, chakra rising like static before a storm.
Hashirama sighed. "Seriously? It's the Daimyō's birthday. Can't they go one day without measuring their pride?"
Raizen's grin returned. "Restraint? You think they came here for cake?"
He tilted his head toward the dais. The Daimyō, rather than stopping the fight, looked downright entertained—chin propped on one hand, eyes gleaming with the kind of curiosity only rich men have when someone else is about to bleed.
"Figures," Raizen muttered. "The man's turning clan warfare into party entertainment."
Sure enough, the Daimyō rose and clapped his hands. "Since everyone is gathered," he said, voice smooth as poison, "why not turn this quarrel into a friendly competition?"
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Then, predictably, an Uchiha stood and bowed.
"Your Majesty is wise. A contest will bring spirit to this dull gathering. Let's see which clan truly deserves its pride!"
He shot a sneer at the Hyūga.
The Hyūga rep replied instantly, eyes cold. "Then let's see whether your vaunted Sharingan can save you from disgrace."
That did it. The Uchiha's eyes flashed crimson—three tomoe swirling like blades.
Gasps spread through the foreign dignitaries.
"Is that the Sharingan?" one whispered. "So it's true… the eyes that can see through everything."
Another murmured, "If our clan had those eyes…"
The Uchiha ninja heard the envy in their voices and smiled faintly.
The Daimyō's grin widened. "Excellent. Let the competition begin! Those who wish to fight, step forward. Those who do not… may watch."
Which, of course, meant everyone had to participate. When the ruler wants blood, you give him blood.
Soon, a dueling circle was cleared in the center of the garden. Uchiha and Hyūga representatives leapt in—both Jōnin, both radiating killing intent disguised as courtesy.
The fight began with a blur of motion.
Byakugan against Sharingan.
Gentle Fist against Fire Release.
Palm strikes that shattered stone met blazing kunai that split the air.
It wasn't a spar. It was a death match wrapped in ceremony.
When the dust cleared, the Hyūga lay still, smoke rising from his body. His clanmates said nothing as they carried him away, eyes cold and jaws set. Death, in this era, was as common as breathing.
Still, a faint heaviness settled over the courtyard. For all their bravado, no one liked seeing one of their own turned into a corpse in front of nobles sipping wine.
The next few matches were quieter. Every challenger surrendered the moment things turned deadly. No one wanted to end up another spectacle.
"I want to try," Mito said suddenly, watching the arena with a spark in her eye.
Her uncle, Uzumaki Hiden, didn't even look at her. "You'll embarrass our clan if you go up there. Sit down."
"Uncle! You're terrible!" Mito's fists clenched; she looked ready to throw him instead.
Raizen couldn't help the low chuckle that escaped him.
Mito snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. "Something funny, Amamiya-san?"
"Nothing," he coughed, though the grin refused to die.
Hashirama, bless his clueless soul, decided to help. "You know, Mito, Raizen's actually really strong. Few in the Land of Fire haven't heard his name."
"Hashirama!" she barked, cheeks red.
Hashirama blinked, confused. "What? I was complimenting him."
Raizen smirked. Same brain as Naruto. Great in battle, hopeless in conversation.
The next challenger stepped onto the field. Another Uchiha.
He scanned the crowd slowly… and then his gaze locked on Raizen and Hashirama.
He raised his arm, finger pointing straight at them.
"Next match," the Uchiha declared, voice ringing through the garden, "I challenge Amamiya Raizen."
Raizen froze mid-sip of his tea.
"...Fantastic," he muttered, setting the cup down. "Couldn't just let me enjoy the buffet, could you?"
The wind carried the faint sound of Mito's laughter.