Naruto: The Opportunity Plunderer

he sky above was heavy with a thick layer of dark clouds, as if nature itself was preparing to witness the devastation to unfold. Trees in the clearing swayed, leaves rustling like whispers of dread, and the tension in the air could be cut with a blade.

Senju Gojo stood tall in the center of the forest battlefield, his chest rising and falling slowly. His golden Sharingan spun with deadly precision, glowing like molten suns inside his eyes. Opposite him, Obito Uchiha emerged from the shadows — his gaze burning with fury, his presence cold and violent like a brewing storm.

No more tricks.

No more games.

This time, it was real.

The air between them cracked with raw chakra as both warriors prepared to go all out.

"You've grown," Obito said flatly, the timbre of his voice distorted behind his mask. "But you're still a child. You're not ready to fight someone like me."

Gojo's jaw tightened. His voice was calm but sharp. "I don't need to be ready. I just need to be strong enough to stop you."

Without another word, Obito raised his hand.

Wood Release: Advent of a World of Trees.

Thick roots erupted from the ground like serpents, tearing apart soil and stone as they surged toward Gojo from all sides. But Gojo's feet remained planted. He brought his palms together.

Wood Release: Great Forest Technique!

A towering wall of twisted bark burst up from the ground, meeting Obito's attack head-on. The earth trembled as wood clashed with wood, branches cracking and splintering under the impact. Chakra surged like a violent tide.

Gojo leapt into the air, flipping above the crumbling wreckage of roots and launched a string of hand signs mid-flight.

Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation!

A massive sea of fire exploded from his mouth, sweeping across the battlefield with an inferno's fury. The heat distorted the air, consuming the trees and reaching for Obito like a blazing tidal wave.

Obito's voice echoed from within the flames.

Susanoo!

A ribcage of ethereal blue chakra formed instantly around him, absorbing the brunt of the fire. It shimmered as it solidified into a humanoid figure — a skeletal frame cloaked in swirling chakra. Obito emerged from the haze, untouched, the glowing eye of his Mangekyō Sharingan burning bright beneath his mask.

"Tch." Gojo landed on the charred ground, sweat already beginning to form on his brow.

The Susanoo raised its arm.

Wood Release: Wood Spear Barrage!

Dozens of sharp wooden spears shot toward Gojo at terrifying speed. He moved with instinct. His hands blurred through signs.

Wind Style: Vacuum Great Sphere!

A massive sphere of compressed wind exploded from his palms, colliding with the incoming spears mid-air. The shockwave shredded through them, sending debris flying. But Obito was already closing the distance within the cover of his Susanoo.

Gojo's golden Sharingan flashed. He was reading every movement, but his breathing was beginning to quicken. His young body was straining under the weight of such high-level jutsu.

Still, he refused to fall.

Lightning Style: Lightning Fang!

Blue streaks of electricity surged from Gojo's hands and spiraled toward Obito's ribs. The Susanoo blocked it, but the sheer force cracked its outer shell. Gojo followed up instantly with another technique.

Earth Style: Bedrock Coffin!

Pillars of stone erupted from the ground beneath Obito's feet, attempting to crush and seal him from all sides. The ground split as the technique activated, but Obito vanished — replaced by swirling space-time particles.

Gojo's eyes widened. "Kamui…"

From behind, Obito reappeared. His hand shot out.

Water Style: Exploding Water Shockwave!

A monstrous wave of water engulfed the battlefield, drowning everything in a massive surge. Gojo raised his arms, spinning rapidly.

Wind Style: Vacuum Serial Waves!

Compressed wind blasts punched holes through the wave, dispersing the water across the forest in splashes. Trees were uprooted, the ground turned into mud, and mist lingered in the aftermath.

Gojo stood hunched over, panting.

Obito too, despite the Hashirama cells and Zetsu augmentations, was slowing down. His breath was ragged, and chakra leaked from his wounds.

Gojo's golden Sharingan spun violently.

"You're running out of chakra," Gojo said, his tone low and cold. "Your rage makes you reckless."

Obito snarled beneath his mask. "You talk too much for someone who's about to die."

The Susanoo roared, evolving a layer of muscle and armor. It brandished a chakra blade and slammed it down toward Gojo like a falling meteor.

Gojo didn't flinch.

Wood Style: Wood Dragon!

A massive dragon of twisted bark and chakra erupted from the ground, its jaws open wide. It intercepted the blade mid-swing, the impact shaking the forest down to its roots.

The ground cratered. Energy rippled in every direction. Both Gojo and Obito were flung back from the shockwave.

Gojo crashed into a boulder, coughing out blood. His small frame trembled, but he forced himself up.

Obito was hunched over, one arm slack. Even with Hashirama's vitality, his chakra network was fraying. He had poured everything into this attack — driven by rage, by desperation.

Both warriors stared each other down. The sky cracked with distant thunder.

Gojo's hands moved again.

Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu!

Fire Style: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet!

Lightning Style: Four Pillar Bind!

Three elemental attacks launched in seamless succession. The water dragon spiraled in from the left, fire dragon from the right, lightning crashing down like divine judgment from above.

Obito had no time to react. He activated Susanoo again, shielding himself — but even that couldn't stop all three. The fire and lightning slammed into him, the force sending him tumbling through trees.

Gojo collapsed to one knee.

He had more chakra — that was true.

But his body was still that of an eight-year-old.

His muscles burned. His bones ached. His hands trembled with exhaustion. For the first time… he had truly pushed himself to the limit.

Obito emerged, blood trailing down his side. The Susanoo faded. His left eye flickered, Kamui primed.

"I'll kill you next time," Obito growled. "But now... I have what I came for."

A swirl of space opened beside him.

From within the trees, Itachi's unconscious form floated out, encased in black fire-resistant cloth.

Gojo's eyes widened. "No!"

But before he could move, Obito vanished into the Kamui dimension — taking Itachi with him.

Silence fell.

The forest, now torn apart and soaked in ash and mud, was eerily still.

Gojo tried to stand. His legs buckled. He collapsed face-first into the earth, barely conscious.

But a faint smile touched his lips.

That… was a battle.

For the first time, he had used everything he had — and survived.

From the edge of the battlefield, a familiar voice called out.

"Gojo!"

Shisui appeared, cloak fluttering, his face tight with worry. He rushed to Gojo's side, kneeling beside him.

"I already informed Itachi… about the plan. He agreed. He'll join Akatsuki as a spy… for the village," Shisui said softly.

Gojo, still breathing heavily, gave a slow nod. "That's… the best outcome. For him."

He forced himself to his feet, staggering slightly.

"I'm going home," he muttered.

Shisui nodded. "What about me?"

Gojo turned his head slightly. "Go to the Land of Waves. Start building the base. You're free now… but until I say otherwise, follow my orders."

Shisui looked at him — and smiled faintly.

"As you command, Gojo. I have nothing left but your will."

Without another word, they parted.

Gojo walked alone into the dusk, bloodied but alive — carrying with him the weight of battle, and the memory of his first true war.

---

The sun had long vanished beyond the horizon. Only the cold breath of twilight remained, curling gently through the broken forest, casting elongated shadows over the battlefield now left in silence.

Gojo's feet dragged slightly across the dirt.

His clothes were tattered. His skin, scraped and bruised in patches, still carried the warmth of unleashed chakra. The muscles in his legs trembled with every step, but he forced them forward.

The weight of his first real battle—his first war—pressed upon his shoulders.

And yet, amidst the overwhelming fatigue that gripped every fiber of his being, there was peace.

A strange, solid peace.

He had stood against Obito Uchiha.

He had fought with everything he had. Fire, water, earth, wind, lightning, wood—he had woven them all into a relentless tide of combat. Not once did he retreat. Not once did he doubt.

And even though he couldn't kill Obito…

He had survived.

That alone meant something.

"You almost died back there," Shisui said quietly, walking behind him. "Your chakra reserves were still there… but your body couldn't keep up."

Gojo stopped.

He exhaled slowly and looked up at the partially cleared sky above. His golden Sharingan had faded, leaving behind his deep, silver-blue eyes. They no longer held the brightness of youth, only the sharpness of one who had tasted death—and spat it back.

"I was ready to die if that meant stopping him," Gojo answered.

Shisui didn't reply immediately. He could feel it in Gojo's tone—there was no dramatization, no exaggerated pride. It was truth. Cold and honest.

"You're eight years old," Shisui muttered, almost bitterly. "And you're already willing to die for this cursed village."

Gojo's lips twitched faintly, but he didn't smile.

"I don't care about the village," he said.

Shisui blinked.

"I care about the future I'll shape with my own hands. Whether this village deserves to stand or be burned down… I'll decide that later."

Shisui's gaze lingered on him—long, unreadable.

"And Itachi?" he finally asked.

"He'll join Akatsuki as a spy," Gojo said. "That's the best position for him. He'll be close to Obito, close to Nagato. He'll learn their secrets. He'll live… and when the time is right, he'll move."

Shisui nodded.

"He didn't even hesitate when I told him."

"He wouldn't," Gojo muttered. "Itachi always carries the weight of the world without complaint. He's like me… in that way."

After a long pause, Gojo resumed walking.

"You should return to the village," he said.

But Shisui didn't respond right away.

"I have no reason to return," he admitted quietly. "After everything… after Danzo… after losing my eye… I don't belong there anymore."

Gojo paused and glanced over his shoulder.

"Then go to the Land of Waves," he said simply. "Start building the base."

Shisui's eyes lowered slightly, thoughtful. "And what will I do there?"

"You'll act as my shadow."

"You said you have no reason to live. Then I'll give you one. Follow my orders. Protect the ones I tell you to protect. Kill the ones I command you to kill. Be my blade—until you find a new reason for yourself."

There was no hesitation in Shisui's answer.

He dropped his head slightly in a nod.

"I understand… Gojo."

A small silence followed, the tension between them replaced with mutual understanding.

"You're serious about this path," Shisui added after a while.

"I've always been serious," Gojo answered. "But now… I've tasted what it means to be truly challenged. To be pushed beyond. I'm not the strongest yet."

"But you will be."

Gojo didn't reply.

Instead, he turned his back once more and began walking again.

"Before you go," Gojo said quietly, just before parting ways with Shisui, "send word to my clone in the village. Tell him to continue as usual. Act normal. Keep watching."

Shisui nodded. "And if something happens?"

"React only if I give the word," Gojo replied.

"This war… it's just starting, isn't it?" Shisui asked.

"This isn't war yet. This is the prelude."

Without another word, Shisui vanished into the night.

And Gojo, battered and aching, returned to the path—toward the village, and toward the fate he would carve with his own hands.

---

End of Chapter 66

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