Chapter 30: "How to Die for Love and Possibly Glory"
(In which Issei learns armor is hot, chakra is loud, and enemy ninjas do not respect your dream girl list.)
Issei had trained for this. He'd meditated. He'd done crunches. He'd eaten forest snakes and cried about it later. He'd been punched in the spleen by Jiraiya, kicked into rivers by Gai, and emotionally destroyed by Kakashi's passive-aggressive "hmm" sounds.
Now, finally, it was time.
And he was wearing chainmail underwear.
Okay, not exactly underwear, but the mesh armor under his tunic did cling a little too close in places no teenage boy should ever feel protected by cold metal.
Still, it looked cool. That's what mattered. Issei had gone full fantasy-knight-ninja hybrid with his outfit: reinforced dark blue armor plating disguised as normal cloth, black gauntlets on both arms that could block kunai and catch arrows mid-flight, and a helmet that made him feel like a Spartan warrior who watched too much anime. His boots were deceptively flexible despite being made of chakra-infused alloy—basically steel socks. He clanked faintly when he walked, which ruined the stealth vibes but added +10 intimidation if the enemy happened to be a chicken.
Jiraiya gave him a pat on the back before tossing him into the wilderness like a proud but wildly irresponsible parent.
"Remember, kid! Die well or don't die at all!"
"Thanks, sensei. Wait—what?"
Too late. The trio of terrifying teachers vanished in a literal puff of smoke, leaving Issei alone in the rocky mountain range outside of Konoha. The jagged cliffs and gnarled trees didn't exactly scream "easy first mission." More like "you may be eaten by wolves or fire jutsu."
According to the mission briefing—read: Jiraiya's half-drunken rambling over grilled fish—there was an enemy shinobi prowling these cliffs. Possibly a spy. Possibly a murderer. Possibly someone who just really hated the Leaf Village's trees. Either way, they'd been spotted nearby, and if they saw Issei looking like an armored cupcake? Well, they'd definitely try to kill him.
Great motivation.
Issei crouched low near a rock and took a deep breath. He'd been training with his chakra control—less "wild waterfall" and more "functioning hosepipe" now. Slowly, he released a sonar pulse, spreading his chakra like ripples in a pond.
Whooom.
The sensation rolled out across the land, echoing over stones, trees, and animal dens. It was like tapping a tuning fork and waiting to hear the world sing back. Within seconds, he "felt" movement about two miles away—fast, controlled, ninja-level stealth. Bingo.
...Also, probably now aware that he was here.
"Oops."
Issei grinned nervously and stood, cracking his knuckles. "Well, let's make it worth their time."
He leapt out of hiding just as a figure darted into view, a blur of dark cloth and silver weapons. Without hesitation, Issei fired off a chakra bullet—more like a condensed energy baseball—and sent it rocketing toward the enemy with all the finesse of someone who passed chakra targeting practice by sheer willpower and dumb luck.
BOOM.
The enemy dodged it like they were playing dodgeball on steroids. A swirl of smoke exploded around them, obscuring everything.
Then—shk-shk-shk.
Kunai.
Lots of kunai.
Issei's eyes widened as he ducked behind a boulder, the knives thunking into stone all around him. His helmet vibrated with impact.
"Yup," he muttered, pressing his back against the rock. "This is fine. Everything's fine. Totally normal ninja day."
Another kunai whizzed past and clipped his gauntlet, sending a shock through his arm.
"Okay, maybe not fine."
He peeked over the edge just in time to see a flash of red fabric in the smoke. His heart thumped—not with fear, but excitement.
Not because he liked being attacked, but because—somewhere deep in his dumb, hormonal brain—he imagined a dramatic victory scene where he'd land in front of Pakura or Yugito, bloodied but heroic, armor glinting in the moonlight, and she'd whisper, "Wow. You're so brave."
Then maybe—just maybe—a kiss.
For now, though?
Ducking and surviving would do.
-------------------
The moment Issei saw the enemy's uniform, he knew this wasn't going to be a polite spar with rules and maybe tea afterward. No, this was an Iwa shinobi, dressed in all-black with that not-so-charming village insignia like a flashing neon sign saying, "Hi! I hate your village and I'm here to break your bones!"
And not without reason.
Issei had heard the stories from Kakashi—the Third Great Ninja War, the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze becoming a yellow blur of doom that wiped out whole Iwa platoons in minutes. It was safe to say Iwa had beef. Massive, juicy, full-course kage-level beef with Konoha.
Which meant this guy? Not here for hugs.
So Issei didn't waste time with any anime-style speeches. No "I'll show you the power of friendship!" stuff. Nah. This was a kill-or-be-killed kind of day.
His chakra flared around him like an overclocked engine, humming and rippling through his limbs. Bones hardened. Muscles tightened. His vision sharpened like someone had cranked up the resolution. And just like that—
BOOM.
He launched forward, breaking the sound barrier like it was bubble wrap. Mach 10? Please. Try Mach 30. He zipped past trees, kicking up a shockwave, and the mountain forest behind him groaned in protest.
The Iwa ninja's eyes widened—and then narrowed. Because to Issei's massive disappointment, the guy didn't fall over and die dramatically. No, he just kept up. A full-on chunin—experienced, hardened, and not the kind of person to be impressed by flashy chakra tricks.
"Great," Issei muttered. "I finally get a fight and it's with the one guy who didn't skip leg day."
With a hand sign and zero hesitation, Issei created ten clones, all bursting into existence like chakra fireworks. They scattered with ninja precision, flanking the enemy from every side like a pack of wolves.
He himself went for a frontal assault. Predictable? Maybe. But also dramatic. Issei was nothing if not a showman.
Except the enemy had home-ground advantage. With a stomp of his foot, the earth rippled—literally—and rose in jagged spires to block Issei's path. The stone shifted like it was alive, bending to the Iwa ninja's will.
"Oh, we're playing Minecraft jutsu now?" Issei scoffed.
No biggie.
He sprouted wings.
Because why walk on dirt when you can fly like a chakra-powered angel of stylish doom?
The wings weren't for show—they were razor-sharp constructs made of solidified chakra. He flapped them once and let loose a storm of feathers, each one enhanced to slice through steel like it was sushi paper. They rained down like a bladed blizzard from above.
The enemy wasn't impressed.
In an instant, the Iwa ninja threw up a massive earth dome, shielding himself from the onslaught. It took the brunt of the feathers and even withstood the surprise clone attacks that followed. For a moment, it looked like Issei had him pinned down.
Then—
KRAK-BOOM!
The dome exploded.
Yes. Exploded.
Rocks and debris flew everywhere like a mini volcano, taking out five of Issei's clones in a single burst. One of the remaining ones screamed "WHY ME?!" before disappearing in a puff of smoke.
Worse yet, Issei himself caught a stone spike to the side—not deep, but enough to send him tumbling in midair with a yell.
He crashed behind a boulder, gasping. "Okay. Ow. That's new."
Before he could even shake off the dirt, the enemy was on the move again. Fast, lethal, and clearly planning to end this before Issei could pull another stunt.
And that's when panic hit.
His chakra surged wildly. Instinct overrode training. And before he could even think about it—
Issei screamed.
But not just any scream.
This was a sonic blast, powered by raw chakra and panic-induced adrenaline. It tore through the air like a banshee wailing into a microphone the size of a house.
WAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!
Birds exploded out of trees miles away. Rocks cracked. A nearby squirrel passed out from terror.
The Iwa ninja took the full blast head-on and was flung backwards, skidding across the ground like a tossed action figure, crashing into trees and probably questioning every life decision that had led to this point.
-------------------
After unleashing a sonic blast that could've doubled as a dragon's scream or a metal band's final encore, Issei stood panting, watching the Iwa ninja's limp form halfway embedded in a tree trunk. Smoke curled from the scorched earth, the squirrels had gone into hiding, and somewhere in the distance, a hawk was rethinking its life choices.
"Alright, that's gotta be it," Issei muttered, brushing dirt from his shoulders. "Cue dramatic walk-away."
But Issei had learned enough from Naruto's stories to know the Number One Rule of Ninja Battles™: never trust a quiet body.
So instead of getting too close himself, he did the smart thing and ordered two of his remaining clones forward like ninja paramedics. "Go check the pulse, guys. I'll be over here... emotionally supporting you from a safe distance."
The clones crouched by the unmoving body, poked it, checked the wrist, and one gave him a thumbs-down.
"No pulse," one said. "I think he's—"
WRONG.
Because the second the words left his clone's mouth, two hands erupted from the dirt, like a horror movie with a bad budget and no warning.
GRAB.
They latched onto Issei's ankles with chakra-enhanced strength, yanking hard.
"NOT TODAY!" Issei yelped, switching places with a nearby clone using a swift substitution jutsu. The clone exploded into smoke as the real Issei landed safely on a tree branch.
From the sky, another clone dive-bombed like a living missile, a glowing Rasengan in hand.
"Special delivery!" the clone shouted—and SLAMMED it into the dirt.
BOOM.
The ground shattered. Debris rained. Trees swayed. A fresh crater formed with all the subtlety of a meteor strike.
But the enemy?
Gone. Again.
The Rasengan had missed, and the ninja had pulled another disappearing act—literally swimming through the earth like a chakra-powered mole. Issei recognized the move: Earth Release: Underground Fish Projection, an Iwa signature technique that let its users become one with the ground.
"Okay, that's cheating," Issei muttered, flaring his chakra and taking to the sky again. He spread his chakra wings and summoned a glowing blue barrier around his body like a personal force field.
Just in time.
Because the next second, dozens of stone spikes erupted from below like angry stalagmites trying to impale a passing bird. They slammed into his barrier one after the other, but none could pierce it.
"Nice try, but I've got plot armor," Issei grinned, holding his position midair.
He wasn't worried. Not really.
The truth was, this guy didn't stand a chance in a battle of stamina. Issei had way too much chakra, like he'd accidentally been given the energy budget for an entire ninja battalion. A simple chunin? Not going to outlast him.
But Issei didn't want a hollow win—some slow, boring "stand back and flex chakra" kind of win. That was lame. Naruto would call it lazy.
So instead, he substituted with a boulder, because apparently those were lying around like fashion accessories in the mountains, and dashed in low and fast, tossing kunai rigged with explosive tags like he was trying out for the Shinobi Olympics: Demolition Event.
KABOOM! KABOOM!
The kunai exploded on impact, launching dirt, fire, and possibly a squirrel into the air. And then—
Out of the smoke, the enemy burst forth, charging with chakra burning through his limbs.
Clash time.
No more hiding. No more tricks.
It was taijutsu time.
The enemy's form was sharp—grounded, balanced. Judo. That old-school, grab-you-and-flip-you martial art that could throw you across the village with a well-timed tug.
Issei grinned. "You wanna grapple, huh?"
He cracked his knuckles and settled into a kickboxing stance—feet light, hands up, one knee bouncing. His training with Gai and Naruto paid off as he snapped forward with a spinning heel kick, forcing the enemy to duck.
A palm strike came for his ribs.
Issei blocked.
A sweep came for his ankle.
He hopped.
They moved like dancers with a grudge—blow for blow, feet shifting, dirt flying. Where the Iwa ninja tried to close in and lock him down, Issei used momentum and distance, jabbing and striking in short bursts like a chakra-powered boxer.
"You're good," Issei said, ducking under a shoulder throw and countering with a chakra-enhanced uppercut that sent the Iwa ninja skidding back.
"But I watch MMA. And I've got a secret weapon."
The Iwa ninja raised a brow.
Issei raised a fist.
"I'm not wearing normal boots."
And then he roundhouse-kicked the enemy across the jaw with a pair of steel-toed, chakra-boosted fashionable death shoes.
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At first, Issei thought he was winning.
He was midair, exchanging kicks and punches, chakra crackling along his limbs. He even landed a spinning back-kick that made the enemy stumble.
Then the enemy smirked.
That should've been his clue.
"Done already?" the Iwa ninja said, his voice suddenly confident—too confident. "That was cute. But I've had harder fights against academy brats."
Before Issei could reply, the man blurred forward.
WHAM.
A crushing palm strike to the sternum knocked the wind from his lungs.
Then—
CRACK!
His left wrist twisted at an unnatural angle as the Iwa ninja expertly locked it and snapped it with a judo joint-break.
Issei screamed in pain, but it was drowned out by the rush of adrenaline.
The enemy didn't stop.
He grabbed Issei's shoulder and hip-threw him into a boulder. The rock shattered from the impact.
Before Issei could recover—
POP.
Two fingers. Snapped like twigs.
Issei gasped, rolling away, but the ninja was already behind him.
"Let me show you how a real shinobi fights."
KRAK.
Both his forearms were broken in one swift move—pinned underfoot, stomped with chakra-enhanced force. His clones were gone. Substitution failed. Chakra barrier shattered.
The world blurred through his pain. Agony exploded with each breath, and his healing factor struggled to keep up.
He could barely stand.
But in that haze of pain, one thought burned bright:
If I lose… my parents could die. My friends could die. I'm the hero. I'm supposed to win.
That thought became a spark.
That spark caught fire.
And from the depths of his soul—
the Kyuubi answered.
A calm, ancient fury surged through him like a tidal wave. Chakra erupted from his body, burning red-orange, licking at the air like foxfire. His broken bones realigned. His wounds sealed.
His pupils slit. His fangs lengthened. His claws sharpened.
One Tail. Cloaked. Kyuubi Mode.
Issei rose slowly, the ground trembling beneath his feet.
The Iwa ninja stepped back for the first time.
"You—what the hell are you?" he whispered.
Issei's voice came out deep, distorted, and terrifyingly calm.
"I'm the main character."
Then he moved.
Issei vanished with a burst of speed. One moment he was there, the next—
THUD!
He appeared behind the Iwa ninja, grabbed his leg mid-turn, and slammed him into the earth with the force of a meteor strike.
Then he picked him up again by the back of his collar and hurled him across the valley, watching the man skip off the ground like a stone across water.
The enemy tried to stand.
Bad idea.
Issei was already there.
BOOM.
A chakra punch to the gut caved in the earth around them.
The ninja coughed blood. His ribs cracked.
With a howl, Issei leapt into the sky, creating a massive Rasengan, infused with Kyuubi chakra. It spun wildly, roaring with foxfire and wind.
"Try grappling this," he growled—and dived.
The enemy made an earth dome.
Cute.
Issei tore through it.
The Rasengan collided with the enemy's chest.
KA-BOOM.
A crater formed ten meters wide. Dust exploded outward in all directions. Trees were uprooted. Birds fled.
When the smoke cleared there was nothing left of the enemy except blood.
------------
The dust had barely settled.
The valley was eerily quiet. Craters, shattered stone, and broken earth told the story of the battle—but the real war now raged inside Issei's chest.
He stood over the body, steam rising off his skin, Kyuubi cloak flickering out. The rage was gone. Victory was his.
But it didn't feel like victory.
His knees buckled and he dropped to the ground, panting. The shaking started in his fingers, then spread to his arms. His breath hitched.
He had nearly died.
He'd felt his bones break. Heard his own screams. He'd felt powerless—and for a brief, terrifying moment, he hadn't thought he'd make it.
The fear hit him like a second punch to the gut.
His breath grew shallow.
This was just a test… and I almost died. What if I wasn't good enough next time? What if I really fail?
Then—like a breeze parting storm clouds—
poof!
A puff of smoke.
Three tall figures appeared before him.
"Yo," said Kakashi, flipping his book shut. "You alive?"
"I knew you would make it, youth!" cried Gai, sparkles in his teeth and a very unnecessary thumbs-up.
Jiraiya knelt beside him, serious for once. "You did well, kid. Real well. That chakra control, those instincts… you're already close to where Naruto was when he vanished. Maybe not in personality, but in sheer potential? You're right there."
That should have made him feel better.
It didn't.
The panic was still in his chest, wrapping around his lungs like a python. "I almost died…" Issei whispered. "I… I didn't want to die."
"Then remember that feeling," Kakashi said quietly. "That fear? That's not weakness. That's survival."
"YOSH! Let it sharpen you like the flames of youth forging a blade!"
"Gai, please not now," muttered Jiraiya.
Issei sat there, nodding shakily.
And then—
WHUMP.
A soft pressure hugged him from behind, warm and—uh—very much woman-shaped.
Arms snaked around his chest, and he felt the undeniable sensation of a very affectionate chest press against his back. His mind short-circuited for a second.
"W-what…?" he stammered.
A teasing voice purred in his ear. "Not bad, rookie. You gave me a few good bruises."
Anko.
Dressed casually now, with her trench coat open and that ever-present smirk on her lips, she leaned into him like a satisfied cat.
"I—Wait. You were the enemy ninja?!"
"Guilty," she said, not sounding sorry at all.
Jiraiya chuckled behind him. "Surprise. That wasn't some Iwa spy. That was a test—your final one. And Anko volunteered."
"Volunteered," Kakashi added, "and might've enjoyed it a little too much."
"Had to hold back most of the fight," she said playfully, poking his ribs. "But once you started showing off those tails, I figured I'd stop pulling punches. Looks like you needed a wake-up call."
"You broke my arms!" Issei gasped.
"They healed," Anko said, completely unapologetic. "Besides, you should've seen your face when you activated Kyuubi's chakra. Whew. Gave me chills."
Gai wiped a tear. "Such a beautiful show of fiery spirit!"
Issei wasn't sure whether to be mad, impressed, traumatized, or… slightly turned on. His body chose to blush deeply and freeze.
"You… hugged me," he mumbled.
Anko winked. "You looked like you needed it. And don't worry, perv—if you ever fight me for real, I won't go so easy next time."
She ruffled his hair and walked off like she hadn't just shattered his bones, pride, and emotional stability in one afternoon.
Issei looked at the others. "Was that… normal?"
Kakashi shrugged. "For Anko? That was practically romantic."