𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐢 | ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ꨄ︎ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘᴜᴅᴇɴ

[2/4] Kumo Sanjiro

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A second shinobi war was brewing around the corner. Sanjiro - who was now in his early twenties - trained by himself in the Kumo Compound.

His blond hair was still that long length to his spine, tied in a low pony tail. Over time, his sleeping muscles developed into more tone.

If there was one thing he discovered on his own, it was the ability to enhance his gravity through raw strength. Of course, he kept it to himself. Like all other jutsu's he had stored.

No one in his traditional clan deserved to know the techniques he unravelled. For his greatest fear was a repeat in his clan's mistakes.

"Father's bedridden." Osamu walked out of a dark shadow, standing in the dim light of the quiet night. "Come soon, I'll be the next head of Kumo."

Sanjiro wiped sweat off with a towel, discarding a wooden staff. In this late night, no servants were awake to clean up the mess.

He faced Osamu with a look of indifference. Sanjiro's elder brother was a decade older than him.

Unlike Sanjiro, Osamu had an intimidating silhouette. He was much taller and had more mature features along his cold expression. Even though they shared their mother's soft eye shape, Osamu somehow made his narrow into a look of contempt.

His long blond hair was tied much higher up compared to Sanjiro's.

"Right you will." Sanjiro nodded, seeing that distrustful look in his sharper eyes. Osamu clearly stomped his foot down in warning by those words.

The younger Kumo had every honourable right to spar against Osamu for the head position, but that old way of thinking never appealed to him. Sanjiro might as well continue on living in the shadows since that is what he deemed was best for him.

"I might be generous enough to grant you a position as my advisor. Or at least my right-hand in meetings." Osamu offered, his brows creasing up in hidden taunt.

His small smile did not reach his cheeks. This was no neutral brotherly relationship these two had.

Sanjiro never bothered to return the smile. "I'll gratefully accept that."

If there was one thing Sanjiro could do to keep his clan from conspiracy and ruin, it was to worm his way into the official affairs. Whether or not Osamu knew this himself and was planning to use it to his advantage, he didn't care. Just as long as Sanjiro could keep from any civil dispute.

"If Father was here to listen to this, he'd finally have something proud to share of you." Osamu walked closer toward Sanjiro, stopping in front to place a rough hand on his shoulder. "Our mother would be even prouder." He smirked.

Sanjiro kept his gaze on Osamu, unwavering. Had it been years ago when he was only a child and Osamu was an older teen, Sanjiro would've been too scared to look him in his kin eyes.

It's different now. Having seen the shinobi world and experienced many endeavours for the Leaf, Osamu was as little as an ant in comparison.

"I don't think our mother had much of a say back then and now if she were alive." Sanjiro scoffed.