Chapter 30: Tian Tian's Father

Baimu strode into the Konoha camp like a returning hero, his head held high and chest out, as if the light of righteousness from the whole world shone upon him.

“My deepest apologies, Lord Baimu. I was blind to your greatness and offended you; the fault is mine alone. I beg you not to hold it against Konoha!”

The dramatic scenario he’d imagined—one fit for an unwanted son-in-law—did not materialize; all he received was distant indifference.

“Who’s that guy, swaggering around like he owns the place?”

“He’s putting on quite the act, isn’t he…”

The sudden attack had thrown the entire Konoha camp into chaos. Teams bustled in and out, Nara Shikafuku hadn’t slept a wink, his eyes glued to the map to the point he seemed about to awaken the Sharingan. Minato Namikaze had vanished on a mission somewhere; as for the mission reports from Hayate Gekkou and Kakashi, people only heard the results—no one had time for the details. After a few hasty words of encouragement, they were rushed back out.

This time, Baimu didn’t even manage to earn any merit.

Konoha truly was in a bind now. The real losses might not have been great—the entire defensive line had just over two thousand troops, and wasn’t heavily reliant on its supply route. In an emergency, Minato could make a few runs with sealing scrolls and manage. But that wasn’t a long-term solution; Minato’s combat strength was the main pillar keeping the line secure, and sealing scrolls were valuable strategic resources. Establishing a new supply line was now the highest priority.

…

“By the way, I haven’t seen Might Guy and his team return yet.” Baimu glanced around. Most of Konoha’s support teams had already come back. If Guy’s team had returned, they’d probably be challenging Kakashi to a spar by now.

After all, it was only a raid, not a full assault—the Iwagakure ninja struck and fled. Guy’s team had spent a day dealing with civilians; where could they have gone?

“That’s true… With his strength, even a jonin could retreat safely—there’s no reason they’d be gone this long.” Kakashi frowned slightly.

“Maybe they ran into that old guy who spits lava…” Obito muttered ominously.

“Unlikely. Only fools have such foolish luck—they wouldn’t be that fortunate.” Baimu shook his head.

He preferred to think the three of them simply got lost. At least, as key characters in the original story, they wouldn’t die so easily.

But Kakashi didn’t know fate was on their side. He was still anxious. No one could guarantee safety on the battlefield. Annoying as Might Guy could be, he was a true friend; it was thanks to that idiot that Kakashi managed to step out of his father’s shadow.

“If you’re worried, let’s go look for him. The commanding officer should have the location of their mission.” Baimu said casually. Maybe there’d be a mission in that direction.

“If they’re not back by tonight, we’ll apply for a rescue mission.” After considering it, Kakashi settled on a reasonable timeframe.

It was wartime—if a team disappeared for half a day and a rescue party was sent every time, there wouldn’t be enough rescue teams left for other missions.

“By the way, Kakashi, you should still have quite a few merits left? I’d like to craft a new weapon—lend me some, and I’ll pay you back once I get credited by the commander.” Baimu didn’t want to chase people with a mere kitchen knife anymore.

“You don’t need to pay me back. You saved us, after all. I have plenty of merits; let’s go together. I need to buy a few replacement logs anyway.” Kakashi was generous.

“When did Kakashi become so generous? Last time I asked for a little, he wouldn’t lend it.” Obito pouted.

Kakashi rolled his eyes in silence.

“If you weren’t trying to order custom strawberry-flavored rations, Kakashi wouldn’t be so stingy.” Rin giggled behind her hand.

“But ration pills taste awful!” Obito’s face flushed, making everyone burst out laughing.

“If Obito-kun gets promoted to jonin, I’ll find a way to make strawberry-flavored rations as a gift,” said Rin, ever the sweetheart. While everyone else treated Obito as comic relief, she took him seriously.

“It’s a promise! I’ll work twice as hard!” Obito jumped up, eyes blazing with determination.

“Speaking of which, Kakashi, you must be up for jonin promotion soon, right?” Baimu’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

He didn’t remember the exact date, but he clearly recalled that the Battle of Kannabi Bridge was when Kakashi was promoted to jonin.

“Yes, Minato-sensei has already submitted the recommendation to the Hokage. I should be getting the notice soon.” Kakashi didn’t bother with false modesty.

Rin, on the other hand, looked a little down. Kakashi’s promotion meant Minato would no longer be their team leader; their years-long student-teacher relationship was ending, and they’d have to carry out missions on their own.

“Hmph… I’ll be a jonin soon too, you’ll see!” Obito said defiantly, and Baimu decided to tease him a little.

“But if Obito-kun gets promoted too, your team will be split up. You won’t get to be in the same squad as Rin. Konoha would never put two jonin in the same team.” Baimu said with a teasing grin.

Obito’s face turned beet red. Baimu had a point—once he was promoted, their team would be disbanded and reorganized, no matter how close they were.

After being reassigned, especially in the hectic wartime, they might not even see each other twice a month…

“Then I’d better focus on the basics… Don’t get the wrong idea, Kakashi, it’s not because I want to stay on your team…” Obito crossed his arms and muttered, all pride and awkwardness.

Everyone knows the truth, but pointing it out will only make things worse.

“If it’s not for Kakashi, is it for Rin?” Baimu wore an expression of pure, innocent surprise, as if cultural misunderstandings were at play.

Obito’s face flushed as though he’d swallowed a fireball, wishing he could dig himself a hole and disappear.

But then… Did Rin like Kakashi more, or Obito? Baimu glanced at Rin’s slightly pink cheeks, pondering the question.

…

Konoha camp, Logistics Area

The weapon shop, ninja tool shop, and pharmacy were all set up professionally, even boasting signboards and advertisements. These were battle-tested technologies; when the war ended, those signs would be badges of honor.

Baimu stared at the burly, nearly naked man before him, sporting only a pair of shorts and a leather neck guard, his hair styled into two round buns.

“Your daughter isn’t named Tenten, is she…?”

“Hm? My wife is about to give birth, but we don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy yet… I’m still thinking of names. Actually, Tenten is a pretty good name…” The blacksmith uncle stroked his chin and nodded thoughtfully.

“Tenten for happiness, for progress, for delight every day… Not bad at all.”

Baimu couldn’t tear his eyes away from those two buns on the man’s head. He had a strong urge to pull them off…

“Uncle Amakawa, my friend here would like to commission a weapon,” Kakashi said, nodding politely.

“Oh, I see! Since you named my child, you’ll get a twenty percent discount on anything you buy here!” Amakawa chuckled heartily.

“Both of these shops… are yours?” Baimu’s jaw dropped as he finally noticed the “Amakawa Family” signs over both the ninja tool and weapon shops.

“Haha, thanks to the Hokage’s trust in my craftsmanship.” Amakawa burst out laughing.

No wonder Tenten grew up so wealthy, tossing around space scrolls and ninja tools like they were nothing. Her father was making a killing off the war! Baimu suddenly wondered if the uncle would mind having a son-in-law who was one hundred and forty-four months older than his eldest daughter… Perhaps it was time to stop trying so hard.

“So, young man, what kind of weapon do you need? If we have it in stock, there’s no need for a custom order; custom jobs cost more merit points and take time,” Amakawa advised kindly.

“Well, what I want is a bit unusual…”

“Don’t worry! The warehouse is full of abandoned weapons collected from the battlefield—so many that we’re running out of space: Iwa, Wave, Konoha… there’s no time to repair and reforge them all. If you see something you like, just take it and I’ll fix it up for you.” Amakawa was in a great mood after getting a good name for his child.

“No need for all that. I just want to attach a chain to the end of this blade.” Baimu respectfully handed over his bloodstained butcher’s knife.

The weapon was hardly elegant and clashed with his refined image, but he had no choice; it was the only offensive skill he possessed, so he had to keep using it.

“This blade…” As soon as he took the knife, Amakawa’s jovial face turned serious. “It feels so bloody, so sinister… The material is excellent. Why was it forged as a bone-cutting knife? If it were a katana…”

“It’s a family heirloom from the Horse-Slaying Hunters of Zu’an,” Baimu said with a smile.

“Well, if it’s an heirloom, I suppose it can’t be helped. I’ll add an iron chain for you—should be quick, I have one ready-made.” Amakawa sighed with a bit of regret. He’d just tested it with chakra—the blade could conduct chakra with less than 70% loss, making it very fine material indeed.

“Thank you, Uncle.”

Amakawa led them straight into the warehouse piled high with discarded weapons—all kinds, stacked almost to the ceiling. They were battlefield recoveries, with no chance to send them back for recycling until the war ended.

“How heavy do you want it?” Amakawa asked, gesturing to a wall of chains.

Baimu hesitated. His strength varied: normal state, Possessed by Ah Fei, power burst state, Overlord’s Will… Each form had different capabilities.

“This one will do.” Baimu picked a thick, black iron chain of moderate length and weight.

“Good eye. That’s forged from black steel.” Amakawa detached it from a broken scythe.

“If these blades are just lying around, can I take one for practice?” Baimu pointed to a barrel bristling with battered katanas—he still hadn’t given up on reliving Yasuo’s glory days.

“Go ahead. They’ll just rust otherwise,” Amakawa said, unconcerned.

Baimu chose a katana whose blade was pitted with rice-grain-sized chips. The fact it hadn’t broken despite such damage was a sign of quality.

Within half an hour, the black steel chain was fused to the end of the bloodstained cleaver, and Amakawa even threw in a leather armguard that allowed the chain to be coiled for easy use.

“All done! Who’ll spar with me?” Baimu swung his new weapon—a bloody chain blade—grinning wickedly.

“The weirder the weapon, the quicker you die,” Kakashi said, utterly deadpan.

The katana had survived countless wars and remained the most popular weapon with many schools of swordsmanship for a reason—it was strong and reliable.

Obscure weapons were rare for a reason: their users usually died, often by their own hands before they could master them.

Baimu’s face darkened.