Konoha’s White Fang Shines

Chapter 72: The Promise

Genma leaped forward, stepping into the vacuum created by the Great Heron, maintaining a steady pace—not too fast, not too slow—as he cautiously approached the massive bird.

"Boy, step back immediately, or I'll eat you."

A deep, weathered voice rang out, stopping Genma in his tracks.

"Oh, really? But it seems like the situation isn't quite as you claim. The closer I get, the more fish gather beneath the water. That doesn't really match the image of a fierce predator, does it?"

"Stupid brat, I've grown tired of fish. I don't bother eating them anymore."

The Great Heron's voice carried a trace of anger, and as it spoke, a strong gust of wind surged forth.

Genma shrugged. "Well then, I guess I'm just unlucky. I can't outrun you, and I doubt I'd even be a decent snack—I'm barely bigger than those kids back there. Do you think I'd even fill the gap between your teeth?"

"Then run along. You're too small—not worth eating."

Hearing this, Genma felt a glimmer of hope. This big bird doesn't seem very smart.

He had been carefully observing the heron from the start. The fish weren't naturally drawn to it—they were actually coming out of its beak.

From what he could tell, the bird wasn't malicious. That was the only reason he dared to approach and try speaking with it.

Normally, walking on water was a technique exclusive to ninja. If this heron had encountered ninja before, it should have either swatted him away or tried to eat him immediately.

But it hadn't.

And from its tone, it wasn't out of disdain—it genuinely had no intention of harming him.

This bird isn't just not smart... it's actually quite innocent.

"But I want to talk to you. It must have been a long time since you last spoke with a human, hasn't it?"

"Hmph, what is there to talk about with humans? If you don't leave now, I'll make you."

The Great Heron's massive eyes locked onto Genma with an intense glare, as if ready to tear him apart in the next second.

"Wait, don't be so hasty. You came here looking for your kin, didn't you? I'm willing to help you find them. I think we should talk."

"Ridiculous. My kin were all taken by humans. Why would I trust you?"

The heron's anger flared even more, sending a wave of pressure crashing toward Genma. Though it didn't physically harm him, it caused him to stumble slightly, struggling to keep his balance.

"Then trust me the same way I trust that you won't harm me. Just as I believe in you, I hope you can believe in me—I genuinely want to help."

Genma's words were sincere. If he wanted to turn the Great Heron into his clan's summoning beast, he had to ensure its species continued to survive.

If he successfully formed a contract with the heron, then searching for its kin would become a responsibility he willingly took on.

Steadying himself, Genma looked up at the heron with a warm, open smile, showing no hint of fear or deception. He gazed directly into its massive eyes, as if looking at a close friend.

For a long moment, the Great Heron remained silent.

Then, slowly, the overwhelming pressure began to subside. The hostility in its eyes softened, replaced by a faint sense of helplessness.

"No matter what your reasons are, my kind is nearly extinct. If you truly want to help, be prepared to waste your efforts."

With that, the Great Heron turned its gaze to the sky, as if lost in memories.

Seeing the sorrow emanating from the massive creature, Genma took a few steps closer, standing beside it.

"Tell me everything. The more people searching, the better our chances. If I can't find them, I'll have my friends help. If I don't succeed in my lifetime, then my descendants will continue the search. As long as your kin are still out there, there's always hope."

Genma held back a thought he hadn't voiced—he recalled that during the Fourth Great Ninja War, technology had advanced enough to analyze genetic material.

Which meant cloning wasn't far off.

He wasn't sure whether white herons and Great Herons could interbreed, but if natural reproduction wasn't possible, then there was still the option of retrieving genetic material from Heron Valley and cloning new Great Herons.

Even if the species was wiped out in the wild, he alone had the potential to ensure their survival.

"You wouldn't be this determined just out of kindness, would you?"

The Great Heron spoke again, but this time its tone was calm, as if chatting with an old friend.

"Well, I suppose I should expect nothing less from a bird this massive. To be honest, I want you to become my clan's summoning beast. You know what that is, right? While you'd occasionally fight alongside humans, you'd also have the ability to retreat when necessary. And with a contract, it'd be easier for us to stay in touch.

What do you think?"

Genma sounded casual, but inwardly, he was nervous.

Then—without warning—a shadow flashed before his eyes.

A massive force slammed into his body, sending him flying.

The impact was strong, but spread across a wide area. It was clear the heron hadn't intended to seriously harm him.

Genma's chest felt tight, his limbs sore, but there was no real injury.

After splashing into the water, he flailed for a moment before regaining his balance and standing atop the surface again.

The Great Heron's voice echoed in his ears.

"You're too weak. When you can defeat me, come find me again."

And just like that—the heron was gone.

Turning back toward the shore, Genma saw Kurenai standing there, waiting.

"I made you worry, didn't I?"

"I was worried. But next time, I won't let you face this alone. From now on, you have to bring me along."

Kurenai's tone was firm, filled with determination.

Genma felt his heart tremble slightly, but he simply smiled and walked toward her.

The warmth of her body against his chest filled him with a deep sense of peace and fulfillment.

But he couldn't promise her.

Convincing the Great Heron was one thing, but the future held far greater dangers.

The looming wars, the meteors that would fall, the entire world being caught in a massive genjutsu—none of it could be solved with mere words.

Even if he wanted to simply wait out the storyline, the changes he had already made meant that the original ending might no longer exist.

He needed to become stronger—strong enough to wield his knowledge of the future as a tool, strong enough to shift the course of fate itself.

Kurenai, sensing something amiss, pushed him away.

"You're keeping secrets from me. Why can you step into my heart, but keep me locked outside of yours?"

Genma hadn't expected this.

He had deliberately withheld certain truths, but he hadn't realized it had reached a point where she felt the distance.

After a brief pause, he gently ran his fingers through her hair.

"Men grow stronger to protect the women they love. That's just how it is.

This is something I have to face alone. Otherwise, how could I say it was for you?"

Kurenai's eyes flashed with anger and frustration.

Seeing her on the verge of an outburst, Genma quickly reached for a distraction.

"How about this—when I return to tame that heron, I'll definitely bring you along.

I want you to be the first person to fly with me.

Is that… okay?"

His heart pounded. His face burned.

It was a shameless line, but it worked.

Kurenai huffed, arms crossed, but her expression softened.

"Fine. If you can't defeat it alone, then we'll do it together."

Genma exhaled in relief.

Taking her hand, he led her back across the water, toward where Rō and the others were waiting.

The moment they stepped onto the shore, Rō and Tsurubime's faces lit up—not with curiosity, but excitement.

Chishima, meanwhile, blushed furiously, avoiding their gaze.

Genma suddenly felt like he had corrupted these innocent children.

"Ahem. Rō, was there any other reason you brought us here?"

Rō's eyes sparkled.

"Genma-niisan, did you really talk to the Great Heron?

What did it say?"

End of chapter 72