"Well, it's not easy being an adolescent boy."
Saitama naturally understood the reason but couldn't help making a sarcastic remark.
"Eh?"
Nagisa didn't quite catch what Saitama meant—after all, he was still a boy of only eleven.
The two walked side by side toward Mori's house, which was located on the eastern side of the Uchiha compound—not far from the Guard Station.
On the way, Saitama casually recruited a few more guardsmen who were heading in the same direction. Before long, a small group had formed, ready to attend today's clan wedding.
Since it was New Year's, everyone was dressed neatly. A few even wore ceremonial kimonos, given the occasion.
A bunch of young Genin and Academy students, full of energy and laughter, arrived at the wedding scene.
"Saitama!"
As soon as he entered, Saitama saw Shisui waving at him.
"Yo!"
Saitama walked over and stood beside him.
"Shisui, how are you here so early?"
He hadn't seen him on the way, so he assumed Shisui would arrive later. He was surprised to find him already present.
"Big Brother Mori asked me yesterday to come early and help out," Shisui replied, holding a tray of tea and smiling.
Saitama glanced around. The courtyard was fairly spacious. Nearly ten tables were already set, each with tea and refreshments.
"Don't just sit there—head to the back and lend a hand!"
Saitama raised his voice, addressing the guardsmen sitting lazily around a table. Slowly, they got up, realizing they should at least look busy.
"Got it!"
"Let's go see what we'll be eating later!"
"Yeah, come on!"
...
Saitama took the tea from Shisui and gave him a light shove. "Go help out. Don't worry about me."
After that, he turned toward a familiar figure—a man in formal red robes, smiling at him with restrained nerves.
"Isn't this the groom himself?"
Saitama placed the tea on a table and walked over, grinning.
"Stop messing around, Saitama."
Mori looked serious today. His expression was stiff—the kind of face that clearly wanted to smile but was trying too hard to hold it back.
"It's almost eight. You ready?"
Saitama noticed his nervousness. This was Mori's first wedding after all, and nerves were natural.
"Everything's ready. Just waiting for you all to sit down and eat."
Despite his composure, there was a genuine smile in Mori's voice.
"And where's the bride?"
Saitama gave him a teasing grin, glancing behind him.
Mori and his girlfriend had been together for years, and she'd moved in with him well before the wedding.
"Upstairs. She'll be down soon," Mori said, tilting his head toward the house.
...
Mori had always been well-regarded among the Uchiha, especially by the clan head. So, his wedding was well-attended, with nearly all the clan elders and younger shinobi present. The seats in the courtyard were filled quickly.
At the simple ceremony, Saitama and the rest of the guards finally met Mori's bride. Or rather—his wife now.
She was gentle, composed, and clearly devoted to Mori. Every gesture toward him was filled with affection.
...
"No more, no more!"
Mori sat at another table, already flushed red from all the sake. His eyes were hazy, and he waved his cup weakly in refusal.
Saitama's table, filled with underaged shinobi, wasn't drinking. They could only watch as Mori was toasted into oblivion by the adults.
The meal dragged on for over three hours. When it finally ended, the courtyard was a total mess.
"Alright, Mori. Congratulations and happy wedding!"
In Konoha, there was no tradition of teasing the bride and groom after the ceremony. Saitama was ready to leave now that the food was over.
The New Year had just passed. There was no time to waste—he had a mission to prepare for, and he needed to understand more about it.
"Okay, Shisui, you can leave now!"
Mori, clearly mistaking Saitama for someone else in his drunken stupor, clapped him on the shoulder.
Mori's wife stood beside him, holding him up with care. She gave Saitama a small nod and smile. She understood that Saitama was someone her husband trusted deeply.
Without much fuss, Saitama and Nagisa left the venue. Shisui remained behind to help with clean-up—typical of his warm and responsible nature.
...
"Saitama, I applied for next year's Chūnin Exams," Nagisa said as they walked side by side.
"No problem. You're strong enough."
Saitama nodded, confident in his friend's growth.
"I don't want to fall too far behind. When are you going for jōnin?"
Nagisa was curious. Despite being the same age, Saitama always felt one step ahead.
"There's no rush. I'm not chasing titles,"
Saitama replied casually.
"A rank doesn't increase your strength or give you a power boost. Quietly building up strength is more useful."
"Later, then."
Waving goodbye, Saitama parted ways with Nagisa.
Time was becoming more precious. He had to retrieve his weapon and head to the training ground.
...
"Are you certain?"
In the darkness, a cold voice echoed, cutting through the silence.
Drip... drip...
Water dripped from an old pipe above, each drop hitting the stone floor with a faint tick.
"Yes. The Uchiha have already selected the operative. The mission list has been submitted to the Hokage's office. It aligns with the target's movements."
A figure knelt in shadow, speaking with respect.
"Continue monitoring. I want the exact departure date."
Another voice responded from the shadows, deeper and even more ominous.
Clink—
With the faint sound of metal clicking, the shadowy speaker vanished, leaving only the kneeling figure.
"Understood," the agent replied.
As he raised his head slightly, light from a single overhead lamp revealed a porcelain mask.
And then, silence again—except for the persistent drip of water echoing in the chamber.
An unseen storm was already approaching Saitama. He didn't know it yet.
But would he fear it?
The answer was obvious.
"Heh."
Saitama's sword—charged with lightning—slashed downward in a clean arc, cleaving the training dummy in half.
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