A group of women gathered in the Japanese-style courtyard, their smirks carrying an almost electric anticipation.
Metal slammed into flesh.
"Stand up, turd!"
The shout cracked through the courtyard as a tall woman swung a metal bat toward the boy.
Her long black hair spilled into crimson tips, framing fierce dark eyes that burned with frustration. She stood tall and broad-hipped in white pleated pants and a red baseball vest, gripping the bat like it was an extension of herself.
The young boy staggered upright, knees trembling beneath him.
Crimson hair.
Matching eyes.
Pale skin marred by dark markings that spread like ink beneath the surface.
"Mom…" he whispered weakly. "I'm sorry."
"Don't say sorry! Do something, turd!"
The bat crashed into him.
The air warped black.
"Do something!" she shouted, swinging again. "Anything!"
Each strike landed harder than the last.
Leaves trembled violently.
The courtyard cracked beneath his feet.
And with every impact, Kai's skin darkened further.
"Stop calling me mom!"
The metal bat rammed into his abdomen.
A violent gust exploded outward, knocking several women off balance.
Kai hung suspended against the bat for a brief moment—
before she ripped it free and swung again.
The crack echoed.
His body twisted through the air.
Another hit.
Then another.
His head slammed into the brick courtyard hard enough to leave a crater.
Dust rose.
Fragments of stone scattered.
His mother stared down at him, crimson light burning faintly in her eyes.
"Did I say you could die?"
Kai pushed himself shakily to his knees.
His head lowered.
"I'm sorry…"
Her jaw tightened.
"What," she asked slowly, dangerously, "are you apologizing for?"
A crimson aura ignited around the bat.
The pressure in the air deepened.
"Get out of my sight!"
The swing launched him across the courtyard.
He hit the ground—
only for a cane to stop him mid-flight.
The impact redirected him into the earth with a rough crash.
"How are you feeling, grandson?"
Kai looked up.
A short woman cloaked in gray stood over him, her expression calm in stark contrast to the destruction surrounding them.
His grandmother.
Despite everything, he managed a weak smile.
"I'm okay."
He wasn't.
His skin had darkened completely now, nearly pitch black beneath spreading bruises.
Still—
he smiled.
A brick suddenly slammed into his back.
"Did I say you could rest?" his mother snapped without even turning around. "Come clean this mess up."
She walked away.
Kai slowly pushed himself to his feet.
His arms shook violently.
Still—
he bowed.
"Yes, ma'am!"
The gathered women winced as he hurried off.
Silence lingered.
Then came the whispers.
"Damn," one woman muttered, lowering her voice. "She was really rough on him today."
"She even used her aura."
"He could've died."
"He should've died," another said bluntly. "She hits him as hard as she'd hit us."
Several women exchanged uneasy looks.
"I don't think she's ever hit any of us that hard," one finally admitted.
"He's tough for a male," another said. "I've never seen a boy from our clan take hits like that and still stand."
"I don't think any man could withstand that."
A brief silence followed.
Then someone muttered quietly—
"Our Future Clan Leader is pretty amazing, huh?"
The others nodded.
"Yeah."
"If only he'd fight back," someone whispered.
"Curse of the clan."
"Same as every male."
"Pacifists."
Their voices softened.
Not mocking anymore.
Almost pitying.
Minutes later, Kai returned carrying concrete, loose bricks, and a gardening shovel.
His arms trembled under the weight.
Still—
he got to work.
Brick after brick.
Stone after stone.
Careful.
Quiet.
Deliberate.
The women watched him.
He's so diligent…
Kai glanced up.
He noticed the looks.
The pity.
He always noticed it right before a shift in the air.
They glared at him.
There it was.
Their disdain, not just for him, but for all those like him.
"Pathetic, isn't he?"
"Look how much he shakes after a little practice."
"The Clan Leader wasn't even using a tenth of her strength."
"A disgrace."
"Useless."
"Aren't all men?"
They brushed past him casually.
Like he wasn't there.
"He better finish the laundry."
"Has he made dinner yet?"
"The south wall broke again."
"I swear he never fixes anything right."
Kai kept working.
Concrete coated his trembling hands.
A drop landed against his skin.
Then another.
He wiped quickly at his eyes.
It's okay.
I'm used to this.
"You've got cement in your eyes again, Kai."
His grandmother appeared beside him holding a bucket and a damp cloth.
Gently, she wiped at his face.
No judgment.
No pity.
Just quiet warmth.
"Let Grandma help."
She crouched beside him and began setting bricks into place.
Then, as casually as if tonight had been completely normal—
"Now tell me," she said, smiling softly, "how the Fourth Great Ninja War is ending."
Kai blinked.
Then laughed quietly through sore ribs.
"You still remember where we left off?"
"Of course," she said. "Madara was cheating."
Kai smiled despite himself.
And together—
among broken stone, bruises, and lingering pain—
they rebuilt the courtyard.