Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Last stand
In a city of towering, sky-piercing buildings seemingly made of glass, the streets below were teeming with a diverse array of people. Some had animalistic features, others boasted more than two limbs, while a few had electronic hardware replacing parts of their bodies. This was Musutafu, a bustling metropolis in Japan where the extraordinary had become ordinary.
It was a calm, sunny day—a typical "happy day" by most standards. But for Aizawa, it was anything but. The day would soon take a turn for the worse, becoming one of his most unforgettable nightmares.
Aizawa had just graduated from U.A. High School, quickly establishing himself as a Hero who shunned the spotlight. He had a knack for infiltration and information gathering, which naturally led him to join forces with the underground heroes Ectoplasm and his sidekick, Edgeshot. Together, they operated in the shadows, far from the glamor and adoration most Pro Heroes enjoyed.
The training regimen was intense. Physical drills, combat scenarios, stress management exercises—you name it, Aizawa endured it. His body was pushed to its limits, leaving him sleep-deprived and irritable.
On this particular evening, at 6 PM, the team was on a routine patrol in Musutafu. Winter had set in, and the cold air bit at their faces as they perched high atop a building, keeping a watchful eye on the city below.
Aizawa broke the silence, his voice heavy with fatigue. "Do you think we'll be infiltrating those underground arenas again? They're attracting attention from other criminal organizations. I've even heard rumors that the Yakuza are planning to get involved."
Edgeshot glanced at him briefly before returning his focus to the streets below. "Honestly, I don't know. Ectoplasm hasn't mentioned those arenas since the last operation to gather names of the participants. Infiltrating that place was already a miracle, and successfully gathering intel was more than we could've hoped for."
Aizawa sighed, clearly unsatisfied. "You know as well as I do that it won't be enough. Those people don't give up on money easily. If we don't take down the owners, we're just going to see another case repeat itself."
Edgeshot shot him a sharp glare. "Aizawa, take this as advice from a partner—if you want to keep your job, don't question the Association's decisions again."
Aizawa felt a chill run down his spine at Edgeshot's warning. Jeez, How can I even think about questioning anyone when I'm barely able to stand on my feet... he thought, sweat beading on his forehead.
Before Aizawa could respond, the radio crackled to life with an urgent report.
"All Pro Heroes in the vicinity of District 69 in Musutafu, report immediately. A fight has broken out between two groups. Type A threat, approach with caution. Quirk usage has been reported."
Aizawa and Edgeshot exchanged a tense glance, their earlier conversation forgotten.
"Alright, let's go!" Edgeshot commanded.
Without hesitation, they sprang into action, racing toward District 69. Little did they know, what awaited them there would leave an indelible mark on their lives, altering their perceptions of heroism forever.
*Earlier in District 69*
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a dim glow over the main road of District 69, the people of Musutafu went about their evening routines. The atmosphere was peaceful, with everyone minding their own business, unaware that they were about to witness a moment that would forever change the face of Japan.
Without warning, a massive explosion of smoke erupted in the middle of the road. Panic spread like wildfire among the citizens, who instinctively feared a villain attack.
"What's going on?!"
"Is it a villain attack?!"
"Call the heroes!"
As the thick smoke began to dissipate, the crowd glimpsed a scene that defied their expectations. There, on the road, stood five figures, each dressed in strange but similarly styled clothing, facing off against a teenager, a child, and a newborn—all armed with swords.
"W-what is going on!?"
"What's a kid doing here?"
"The police need to take care of this!"
Eichi, barely able to stand due to chakra depletion from the teleportation seal, felt weak. Tajima, his older brother, was in a similar state. For an Uzumaki, chakra depletion meant running low on their usually vast reserves, a rarity in itself.
The five shinobi before them were just as disoriented, scanning their unfamiliar surroundings, trying to ascertain where they had ended up. Tajima seized the moment of confusion to address Eichi.
"Look, Eichi, you have a mission. You need to get out of here, fast!" Tajima urged.
Eichi glared at his brother, unwilling to leave him behind. "Do you really think I will abandon you?"
"Eichi, goddammit! Think! You're holding the heir—our last chance!" Tajima yelled, desperation creeping into his voice.
"But I can do Shadow Cl—" Eichi began to argue, only to be interrupted by a sharp slap from his brother.
"The mission, Eichi! You're a shinobi—you know what you have to do." With that, Tajima created four shadow clones. Three of them positioned themselves beside him, while the last one started preparing seals.
Eichi looked like he was on the verge of breaking down. His last living family member was standing in front of him, asking him to abandon him to the Shinigami and flee.
Before he could plead further, the five shinobi launched their attack. Tajima and his clones engaged them, buying Eichi precious time to escape.
"Don't let him complete the seals! And get the heir!" shouted one of the Kumo-nin.
The clone working on the seals paused momentarily, turning to Eichi. "I'm sorry, Eichi, but you have to go. I'm sorry for being harsh all these years, sorry for giving you this burden, but you must be strong."
As the clone finished the last stroke of the seal, it stood up and added, "I will always love you, Eichi. You and Izuna were my most precious people. I can't bear to see you die. Don't forget your clan, your family, and your duty to them. Now go, before you fail your mission."
With those final words, the clone joined the battle, replacing the original Tajima in holding off two of the shinobi.
Eichi, heart heavy with grief and anger, knew he had no choice. Clutching the heir tightly, he fled the battlefield, his mind can't stop with thoughts of his brother's imminent death.
There were two shinobi from the Mist, two from the Stone, and one from the Cloud.
Grinding his teeth, Eichi forced himself to run, leaving behind the chaos that had engulfed the once peaceful streets.
Meanwhile, Tajima was locked in a deadly battle with two skilled opponents, one from the Mist and the other from the Cloud. The latter matched him in swordsmanship, their blades clashing with deadly precision.
His clone fought valiantly alongside him, trying to relieve some of the pressure so Tajima could focus on the real threat.
Explosions echoed around them, electricity crackled through the air, the ground shifted underfoot, and fierce winds tore at their clothes. It was pure chaos. Two of his clones had already been dispelled, and Tajima was running dangerously low on chakra. Surrounded by enemies, he knew he had only one option left.
But as he was cornered by four of them, a sudden thought struck him. 'Wait... where's the Mist-nin?'
His heartbeat quickened in panic, and he quickly turned toward the direction Eichi had fled. There, in the distance, he spotted the Mist-nin closing in on his brother.
"It's over, Uzumaki. Surrender, and we might let you live. Do it for your bloodline," the Cloud-nin said grimly.
In response, Tajima smirked, then let out a hollow chuckle. "You really think I have a choice? We Uzumakis are stubborn. We don't yield in the face of the world's cruelty. If someone invades our land, they should know we'll defend it, and our land is big enough to bury you all." His face twisted in rage, and there was a glint of madness in his eyes as he spoke with malice. "And let me tell you one last thing. My name is Tajima, I fight until the blood takes the sword from my grasp, until I can only crowl."
He lowered himself into a combat stance. The enemies responded, readying themselves. "And even then," he continued, "I'll spit in your face."
"Don't let him grab you! It's a suicide charge!" the Cloud-nin shouted.
Tajiro's smirk deepened. 'So they know our tactics. Good, but it won't be enough.'
He launched himself at high speed, dodging a red, elongated weapon aimed at him. It was slow—too slow for him. He quickly engaged the Cloud-nin in combat, but as the others joined in, he was forced to retreat.
Then, just as he sensed a faint killing intent behind him, he turned to find the Mist-nin about to sever his head.
'Damn, I forgot about their silent killing technique!' Tajiro thought, cursing himself.
But in that moment, the Mist-nin was suddenly ensnared by what looked like bandages. The Mist-nin struggled free, but before he could attack again, Tajiro took the opportunity to stab him in the heart.
As he turned back to face the others, Tajiro was struck by three swords—one in the chest, another in the side, and the last in his back, missing his heart by mere centimeters.
He grinned, and that expression brought terror to his enemies' faces. They knew what he was about to do.
"Get out of here, now!" the Cloud-nin yelled.
"Uzumakis… suicidal maniacs!" an Iwa-nin cursed.
Refusing to die alone, Tajiro grabbed a terrified Iwa-nin, whose reaction was far too slow for a trained shinobi. The Iwa-nin struggled desperately to free himself, screaming for help. But in his panic, he didn't notice the paper tags now covering Tajiro's chest—explosive tags, and not just ordinary ones.
"I may not be as skilled in sealing as my brothers, but I'm still a force to be reckoned with," Tajiro said with a smirk.
Forming a hand sign, he shouted, "From the ashes, we shall rise!"
In that moment, his pupils dilated, time seemed to slow, and his mind cleared of all fear and doubt. He noticed the terror on the Iwa-nin's face, the retreating figures of the remaining shinobi, and the strange, flashy clothing of the onlookers in the distance.
'Strange… but it doesn't matter now.'
"Katsu."
The world was engulfed in blinding light, followed by a shockwave that knocked down half of the onlookers. Where Tajiro once stood, there was now only a crater, the surroundings devastated by the force of the explosion.
This day would mark the beginning of a new era for Japan, a day that would be remembered for years to come.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone