Born To Rise In Konoha
Chapter 68

Chapter 68 - 68

[Scene: Post-Training - Saitama and Nagisa]

"What are you, being polite now?" Saitama clapped Nagisa on the shoulder casually and walked away.

"This really suits you, doesn't it?" Saitama added as he took a few steps, leaving Nagisa behind.

Nagisa stood frozen, gripping the scroll tightly. His whole body ached from sparring with Saitama, but the pain seemed to melt away as he stared at Saitama's retreating back in awe.

---

[Scene: Saitama and Mori]

Just a few steps away, Saitama ran into Mori, who wore a curious expression.

"What did you do this time? Why did Nagisa look like that?" Mori asked with a quirked brow.

"What could I possibly do?" Saitama shrugged, smirking. "Maybe he got sand in his eyes or something. Who knows?"

Mori rolled his eyes. "Come on, I've got something to talk to you about."

They found a quiet bench in the training yard and sat down. Still sweaty from his workout, Saitama leaned back against the bench, not particularly concerned.

"There's been an incident involving Shisui," Mori said slowly, watching Saitama's reaction.

Saitama remained calm, not even blinking.

"You're not worried?" Mori frowned. "I thought this would get a rise out of you."

"If it were serious, you wouldn't be speaking so calmly. So what happened?" Saitama replied, tone even.

Mori sighed, both relieved and annoyed. "Shisui was on a mission with a few jōnin from the clan. They ran into hostiles. It wasn't too bad—they got out safely."

"And?" Saitama asked, unimpressed. "Doesn't sound like something worth calling me out for."

"He awakened the Sharingan," Mori said softly.

Saitama finally turned his head slightly, interest piqued. "Oh?"

"He's only seven... and he awakened it with two tomoe in both eyes on his first activation," Mori added, tone mixed with awe and slight envy. "I was fifteen when I awakened mine. I'm twenty-four now—and about to get married."

Saitama leaned back, his voice calm. "Then I won't need to push him so hard anymore."

"You're really not surprised?" Mori muttered. "Of course you wouldn't be."

He stood up and stretched. "Anyway, I've got preparations to handle. My fiancée's waiting for me at home."

As Mori walked away, Saitama stayed seated, eyes distant, lost in thought.

"He really did it. At seven years old..." he murmured. "With the Sharingan, especially two tomoe, his Body Flicker will become lethal. Shisui with the Sharingan... he'll be a nightmare on the battlefield."

Saitama slapped the bench lightly, stood, and stretched.

"Time for a bath. I'll go visit him later."

---

[Scene: Hospital Visit]

"Heading out?"

"Yeah. Everyone, keep training! I'll be back later," Saitama called out.

"Take care!"

"See you later, Saitama!"

With casual waves and farewells from his teammates, Saitama left the training grounds.

It was around 5 p.m. After a moment of thought, he decided to visit Shisui first.

Carrying a basket of fruit as a proper visitor, Saitama arrived at the hospital ward. Shisui was already sitting cross-legged on the bed, full of energy despite his bandages.

Shisui had only been brought in due to chakra exhaustion—he'd fainted, not sustained serious injury. Mori had asked the hospital to keep him one more night for observation.

After chatting briefly, Saitama peeled an apple and ate a few slices, then got ready to leave.

"No need to worry. I'll be discharged by tomorrow at the latest," Shisui said with a calm smile. His mother, who had been caring for him, was currently out getting food.

"I'll say hi to your mom on the way out," Saitama nodded. "Rest up."

With that, he left—unhurried, but thoughtful.

---

[Scene: Dinner at Home]

"What's for dinner, Granny Kaka?" Saitama asked the moment he stepped inside, catching the scent from the kitchen.

"You're back just in time!" Kaka turned with a bright smile, silver hair peeking from under her headscarf. "I bought special hot pot base today—it's going to be amazing!"

"I'm on my way!" Saitama grinned. On a cold night like this, hot pot at home with Kaka felt like heaven.

Konoha hadn't seen snow yet this winter, but the air was freezing. Inside their small home, filled with the aroma of broth and spices, Saitama felt that life was pretty perfect.

Later that evening, while Kaka quietly sorted things downstairs, Saitama trained in his room—refining his chakra control, experimenting with ninjutsu, reviewing battle forms. Even past midnight, the house remained quiet, but he could still hear Kaka moving gently downstairs.

He didn't bother her. He knew elderly sleep was light and often broken—and that each mission he left for silently weighed on her heart.

She never said anything, but Saitama could always see it in her eyes: that subtle mix of worry and joy whenever he came home safe.

This was the world of shinobi.

Like Shisui, still lying in a hospital bed.

The only way to protect those feelings... was to get stronger.

---

[Scene: Next Morning]

The next day, after a warm breakfast of Kaka's homemade rice balls and seaweed soup, Saitama set out.

He planned to meet with Uchiha Fugaku in the afternoon about a mission that had apparently been giving him trouble.

Instead of heading straight to the training grounds, Saitama decided to warm up like Might Guy and his father—running laps around the village.

Just yesterday, he had been complaining about the lack of snow. Now, a light flurry danced through the air, settling across the rooftops and quiet streets of Konoha.

"Hah... Hah..."

After a few laps, Saitama felt the soreness in his legs. He hadn't used chakra to support his run—he wanted to feel the full burn. Compared to someone like Guy, he was still far behind.

"Monster," he muttered in awe.

---

[Scene: Training Ground]

By the time he arrived at the training ground, others were already present. Among them, Nagisa stood chatting with a few others—dark circles under his eyes, clearly tired from training.

"Ahem," Saitama cleared his throat.

The group scattered like startled birds.

"Morning!"

"Saitama, morning!"

Seeing it was him, they all quickly offered greetings, their earlier banter instantly forgotten.

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