The leaf touched the grass.
In that fraction of a second, Kakashi was already moving. To the untrained eye, he simply vanished. To Naruto and the others, he was a blur of gray and green, a gust of wind aiming for my throat.
But I wasn't looking with untrained eyes. And I wasn't a ninja.
I watched him come. In my old life, a car moving at forty miles per hour had seemed fast. Now? Kakashi moved like he was wading through molasses.
He came in low, the kunai in his hand gleaming as he aimed a slash at my midsection. It was a testing strike—fast enough to kill a lesser man, but safe enough for him to recover if I blocked.
I didn't block. I didn't draw my sword.
I simply shifted my weight to my back foot and leaned my torso back three inches.
Swish.
The blade cut the air right where my sash had been a millisecond before.
Kakashi's visible eye widened. He carried his momentum through, spinning on his heel to deliver a high kick to my head. It was a fluid, beautiful transition, the mark of a master martial artist.
I raised my right arm—my only arm—and held Gryphon's scabbard up vertically.
THWACK.
Kakashi's shin collided with the green sheath. The sound echoed through the clearing like a gunshot.
"Too stiff," I noted casually.
Kakashi used the impact to launch himself backward, flipping in the air and landing in a crouch ten feet away. He shook his leg slightly. Even without Haki, my equipment was top-tier. That scabbard was harder than most steel, and the arm holding it didn't give an inch.
"You didn't draw," Kakashi said, his voice serious. He pulled his headband up further, the Sharingan spinning wildly. "And you dodged my opening strike with minimum effort. You read my movements?"
"I watched your shoulders," I said, tapping my own shoulder with the scabbard. "You telegraph. Just a little bit. But a little is all I need."
"I see," Kakashi murmured. "Then I won't give you the chance to watch."
He reached into his pouch and threw three shuriken. They curved through the air, coming at me from different angles. At the same time, he charged again, this time moving in a zig-zag pattern to confuse my tracking.
I sighed. Projectiles. Cute.
I didn't dodge the shuriken. I stepped into them.
With a flick of my wrist, I swung the scabbard in a tight figure-eight.
Cling, clang, cling.
The three metal stars were swatted out of the air with lazy precision. They embedded themselves in the dirt at my feet.
Kakashi was on me instantly, taking advantage of my deflection. He was aiming for my left side—my blind side. My armless side.
It was a smart tactic. Against anyone else, it would have been fatal. But losing an arm teaches you things. It teaches you to turn your hips, to use your peripheral vision, to make your entire body a weapon.
As Kakashi thrust his kunai toward my empty left shoulder, I pivoted on my left heel. I spun my entire body like a top.
The movement was so fast it created a small vacuum of air. I let the heavy green scabbard swing out with the centrifugal force of my turn.
I wasn't aiming to hit him with the scabbard. I was aiming for his weapon.
CRACK.
The tip of my scabbard clipped the flat of his kunai. The force was absurd. The kunai shattered. Not chipped—shattered. Shards of metal sprayed into the grass.
Kakashi's eyes were wide with shock as the force of the blow traveled up his arm. I saw the shockwave ripple through his muscles. He grunted, losing his balance.
I didn't let up. I stepped in, invading his personal space.
I brought the pommel of my sword down gently. I tapped him on the forehead.
Bonk.
Kakashi stumbled back, rubbing his forehead. He looked... baffled.
"Fast," Sasuke whispered from the tree branch. His voice trembled. "He's... I can't track him. Even when I focus, he just... skips frames."
"Is he teleporting?" Naruto asked, his mouth hanging open. "Like the Fourth Hokage?"
"No," Sasuke said, gripping the bark of the tree until it splintered. "He's just running. He's just... moving."
Kakashi regained his composure. He tossed the broken hilt of the kunai aside. He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of true frustration in that spinning red eye. He couldn't copy me. There was no chakra to copy. There were no hand signs to mimic. It was just raw, overwhelming physical superiority.
"You're not using chakra," Kakashi stated, sounding almost offended. "I'm watching your network with the Sharingan. It's dormant. You're doing this with pure muscle."
"I told you," I grinned, resting Gryphon against my shoulder. "I eat my vegetables."
"Pure muscle shouldn't be able to move that mass at that speed without tearing tendons," Kakashi analyzed. "Your physiology is... monstrous."
"You done talking, Scarecrow? I'm getting bored."
Kakashi narrowed his eye. "Not yet."
He reached into his pouch and pulled out two kunai this time. He took a deep breath. The air around him seemed to sharpen. He was getting serious.
"Leaf Hurricane!"
He came at me with a flurry of kicks and slashes. Low, high, low, mid. He was mixing up his levels, using his speed to create afterimages. It was impressive. For a human.
I parried.
Clack. Clack. Thud. Clack.
I didn't move my feet. I stood in one spot, using my single arm to deflect every single strike with the scabbard. I felt like a parent playing fight with a toddler.
Left. Right. Duck. Parry.
I yawned. I actually yawned.
That insult seemed to snap something in Kakashi. He abandoned defense. He dropped low, sweeping my legs.
I jumped. Just a small hop, hovering in the air for a second.
As he missed the sweep, Kakashi pushed off the ground, aiming an uppercut at my chin while I was airborne and unable to dodge.
Gotcha, his eyes seemed to say.
In One Piece, we have a technique called Geppo. Moon Walk. Kicking the air so hard you fly. I didn't need to go that hard, but the principle was the same. Physics was just a suggestion.
I kicked the air.
Boom.
A shockwave blasted from my sandal, compressing the air beneath me. Instead of falling, I shot upward another ten feet, dodging the uppercut completely.
Kakashi punched empty air, leaving himself wide open.
I dropped.
I didn't use Haki. I didn't use a sword slash. I just let gravity and my own body weight do the work. I landed right in front of him, my sandals crunching the earth, cracking the ground beneath me.
Kakashi froze. He was extended, off-balance. I was nose-to-nose with him.
I raised my hand.
"Checkmate."
I flicked him.
I didn't punch him. I flicked him in the center of his chest, right on the tactical vest, with my middle finger.
THOOM.
It hit him like a cannonball.
Kakashi flew. He didn't stumble back; he was launched. He skipped across the clearing like a stone across a pond—once, twice, three times—before crashing into the trunk of a tree on the far side.
Dust billowed up. Leaves rained down.
Silence descended on the clearing.
Naruto fell out of his tree. He hit the ground with a thud but didn't seem to notice. He scrambled to his feet, pointing a shaking finger at me.
"HE FLICKED HIM!" Naruto screamed. "DID YOU SEE THAT?! HE FLICKED KAKASHI-SENSEI AND HE WENT FLYING!"
I stood up straight, dusting off my pants. I hadn't even broken a sweat. My heart rate hadn't increased.
"You okay over there?" I called out. "I held back, I promise."
The dust settled. Kakashi was slumped at the base of the tree. He groaned, clutching his chest. The metal plate in his vest had a distinct, finger-sized dent in it.
He coughed, waving a hand weakly. "I'm... alive."
He pulled himself up, wincing. He looked at me with a mixture of awe and terror.
"That..." Kakashi wheezed, walking slowly back toward us. "That was a flick?"
"A love tap," I corrected.
Kakashi stopped in front of me. He stared at my single arm. He stared at my sword, which I had never once unsheathed.
"If you had drawn that blade," Kakashi said softly, "I would be dead, wouldn't I?"
"Probably," I admitted. "Or at least missing a few pieces."
Kakashi chuckled, a dry, pained sound. He slid his headband down, covering the Sharingan. He looked exhausted.
"I concede," Kakashi said. "I can't fight you. My Sharingan is useless. I can see what you're doing, but my body simply cannot react to that level of raw power. It's like fighting a Tailed Beast in human form."
"A Tailed Beast?" I asked. "Is that a compliment?"
"In this world? Yes. It means you're a calamity."
I laughed. "Well, I've been called worse."
I turned to the kids. They were on the ground now, staring at me like I was a god.
Sasuke walked up to me. He looked at the dent in Kakashi's vest. He looked at my hand.
"You didn't use magic," Sasuke said, his voice intense. "You didn't use tricks. You just... overpowered him."
"Speed and power," I said. "And experience."
"Teach me," Sasuke demanded. He bowed. It was stiff, awkward, and fueled by pride, but he bowed. "Please. Kakashi-sensei is strong. But you... you are something else. I need that power."
I looked at the boy. He was so consumed by revenge it was practically radiating off him.
Then I felt a tug on my sash.
Naruto was there. His eyes were huge, shimmering with tears of excitement.
"Me too!" Naruto yelled. "I want to be strong enough to flick people! If I can do that, nobody will ignore me! I'll be the Hokage for sure! Teach me, Shanks-sensei! I'll do anything! I'll climb a hundred trees! I'll eat vegetables!"
"Whoa, let's not get crazy with the vegetables," I joked.
I looked at Kakashi. The silver-haired ninja gave a small, resigned shrug.
"They won't leave you alone now," Kakashi said. "And honestly... having you train them might be the best thing for their survival. Zabuza won't know what hit him."
I sighed, scratching the back of my head. I was a pirate, not a babysitter. But looking at these kids... I saw potential. And I saw danger. If I didn't help them, Zabuza really might kill them. And if Zabuza didn't, this Gato guy would find someone who could.
"Alright," I grumbled. "But my training is hell. You hear me? Hell."
"We can take it!" Naruto cheered.
"I doubt it," I said grimly. "But we'll see."
I looked at Kakashi. "You too, Scarecrow. Your stamina is pathetic. You rely on that eye too much. We're gonna fix that."
Kakashi blinked. "Me? But I'm the Jounin instructor..."
"You got winded after three minutes of sparring where I didn't even attack you," I pointed out ruthlessly. "You're joining the boot camp."
Kakashi slumped. "This mission keeps getting worse."
"Cheer up," I grinned, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "By the time I'm done with you, you might actually be able to make me draw my sword."
I turned and walked back toward the house.
"Lunchtime!" I announced. "I need meat. Lots of it."
As I walked away, I heard Naruto whispering to Sasuke.
"Did you see the dent? It was deeper than my thumb!"
"Shut up, loser. I saw it."
"Shanks-sensei is the coolest guy ever!"
I smiled to myself. The coolest guy ever, huh?
I looked down at my hand. The power was intoxicating, yes. But the real challenge wasn't beating Kakashi. It was navigating this world without losing who I was supposed to be.
I was Shanks. I was a Yonko. And apparently, I was now the personal trainer for Team 7.
Luffy would laugh his ass off if he could see me now, I thought.
But as I looked back at the misty forest, a cold feeling settled in my gut. Zabuza was still out there. And he wasn't alone. My Observation Haki was picking up... disturbances. Faint, but growing.
The sparring was fun. But the real war was coming. And I needed to make sure these kids were ready for it. Because even I couldn't be everywhere at once.