The Thunder of Loyalty, the Shadow of Envy

attention author...

hello, everyone...

I didn't think I would end up with a good drama for Saruo and Lampow.

Lampow has a personality just like Lambo.

Sarou is an important character that I am inventing in the world of Naruto.

I will only say that the Sarutobi clan will not be the same xd.

I don't want to spoil, that would be cruel xd.

My goal of publishing a chapter a day will not be achievable, I'm tied up with duties.

The next chapter will have scenes of kicking and kung-fu, that's a weakness of mine; more than that, I want to do it well, and I will get frustrated because I want to do things right, because I don't do this for you, I do it for myself, for that adolescence that slipped away from me...

Well, I, Wissumi Wazaki, wish you happy reading. Bye, bye...

Year 1047 B.N. – August 24

Forest between the border mountains near the Land of Fire

The rain had just struck with exhausted fury.

The world was wrapped in one of those storms that rarely visit the region: the skies vomited lightning, black clouds thundered as if some ancestral drum marked the end of an era.

And in the middle of that ancient electric chaos, Giotto stood there, feet buried in the mud, body still trembling from the strain of running in Dying Will Mode. His clothes were gone; only his mawashi (belt or loincloth) remained.

His chest rose and fell in a slightly uneven rhythm—only from exhaustion.

Then… the light.

A flash brighter than any other tore the sky apart.

And there he was.

Lampow, in Giotto's arms…

—"Why am I a kid again, Primo?! I'm a brat! This is humiliating!" —yelled the newly summoned Lampow, his high-pitched voice echoing even louder than the thunder.

The air crackled around him like static energy, angry, with lightning bouncing around him like war drums.

Giotto, still recovering, gave a faint smile and lowered Lampow to the ground. Despite everything… he felt familiar.

—You're still the same… even in another world. When are you going to grow up, Lampow?

—Never! I don't want to! There's mud everywhere, it's cold, and you summoned me in the middle of a horrible storm!

Giotto sighed. He was exactly as he remembered: the same spoiled child, the same stubborn spirit who barely understood his own worth… but who, when it mattered, protected with overwhelming force. And now he was here.

—Thanks for coming —Giotto said, his voice calm once more—. Now let's get back to where I was before.

Lampow crossed his arms, frowning. But something in his eyes shifted.

—Back? Back where?

Giotto looked down, the mud splashing at his feet as he moved.

—Back to my mission. I was escorting an important prince… from a country. I left him in Ugetsu and Knuckle's hands, but…

His eyes narrowed. Something tugged at the back of his mind, an echo of warning, an old fear that slipped through the circumstances, like a tremor in his Vongola instincts.

—I saw something strange while I was coming. In the forest. A figure. It looked like a monkey… but its presence felt human. Its eyes were locked on me as if it knew me. It's not a normal monkey. Something's about to happen. My instinct screamed that something is wrong.

Lampow watched him in silence for a moment… then puffed up his cheeks like a five-year-old who'd just had his dessert stolen.

—I don't want to run! I'm tired! I'm hungry, I'm sleepy, and I hate running with these tiny feet! And you summoned me right when I was in the middle of a centuries-long nap in the afterlife! It's not fair! I'm Lampow the handsome! I'm nobody's pack mule, Primo!

Giotto clenched his fists.

Time was vital.

Every second spent away from the escort could mean a death, an attack, a political disaster. But Lampow wouldn't respond to shouting. He knew him too well. He had to appeal to the one thing that moved Lampow beyond his ego: affection.

With a firm motion, Giotto slapped his own face and took a deep breath. Despite being only eight years old, his voice resonated with the maturity of someone who had once babysat this being in another life, commanded armies, forged nations, and buried his enemies with tears in his eyes.

And then, in a moment suspended in time, Giotto remembered.

...

[Flashback]

The wind from Mount Fuji blew cold, like invisible blades brushing the rice fields at the edge of the village. The cherry trees, stripped of their flowers, swayed their bare branches like ghosts dancing in the twilight. It was the prelude to a long, cruel, and merciless winter. But the small group camped at the forest's edge barely felt the cold. Giotto, then a teenager with eyes shining with determination, was accompanied by a small boy with intense green hair, covered in rune-like tattoos of flames and lightning, whose temper rivaled his tiny size.

Lampow, who didn't look a day over fourteen —though his real age defied any calendar— was perched among the bamboo trees, chewing on a twig with feigned indifference.

"Lampow! Get down from that tree! Ugetsu's going to think I'm raising wild animals!" Giotto shouted, half laughing, half exasperated.

"I am the invincible steel bull, Lampow the Great! This tree shall be my castle, and you—my second servant!"

Giotto sighed, placing his forehead in his palm.

"Why number two?"

Lampow pointed toward the sky with his improvised horns.

"Because number one is me. Obviously."

A grunt exploded near the fire. G was complaining with a fury impossible to ignore: how arrogant the newcomer was. The temperamental Vongola Storm, with a serious face and a tattoo on his cheek, had been thinking through a plan in silence, but Lampow always managed to knock him off balance.

"You have to admit it, Giotto," G grumbled. "That kid you rescued from a rich family is more annoying than any of your recruits."

"He has will," Giotto replied with a sigh, looking up at the sky. "But also an absurd amount of pride, hunger, and tantrums."

"I heard that!" Lampow squealed, offended, jumping from the tree in a clumsy fall caused by the weight of his armor, landing face-first into the dirt.

"And zero grace," G added, going back to his plan. His crimson eyes gleamed in the firelight. "Why do you keep him around, again and again? He's more noise than thunder."

Lampow got up, spitting out a leaf. Puffing his cheeks like a pufferfish, he stormed over to G, brandishing his makeshift horns like he could split the earth.

"Don't underestimate me, G! I'll learn from the lightning and become so strong that if I get mad, I'll turn you into a chicken!"

G stared at him.

Cold.

Silent.

"Do it. If you've got the guts."

Lampow raised his hand… but immediately burst into tears and ran straight into Giotto's arms.

"Primo! G wants to kill me! He's mean and has an evil face!"

"You're right about one thing," G muttered without looking up. "I am mean. Just not mean enough to electrocute a horned chick."

From a corner, the Mist Guardian laughed louder, and Giotto couldn't help but smile.

Lampow's curly green hair poked out from beneath his makeshift helmet, clumsily engraved with a lightning symbol. Next to him, Giotto —about twenty-three years old— watched the village illuminated by paper lanterns and the dim glow of the campfire.

"Lampow?" Giotto asked without looking at him. "Still wearing that ridiculous helmet?"

Lampow puffed his cheeks.

"It's not ridiculous! It's the mark of the future Great General Lampow! Enemies tremble when they see this helmet!"

"Sure… or they fear the pain," Giotto chuckled. "What trembles is your neck carrying something that heavy."

Lampow scowled and kicked a rock.

"Cruel primo! You don't understand defense fashion!"

Giotto looked at him with tenderness. Lampow was a child in body, yes, but his soul had endured more battles than anyone should bear. He had watched friends grow, mature, even die… while he remained trapped in an eternal cycle of childishness.

And yet… he never gave up.

At that moment, Knuckle's laughter echoed in the distance. The amateur boxer approached, carrying a large wooden crate on his shoulders. His white bandages, poorly tied, fluttered in the wind as he walked barefoot through the fallen leaves. Two years older than Giotto, he was a man of principle and strength, with a straight back and the calm smile of someone at peace with his power.

"I brought freshly baked bread," he announced. "I traded it with some traveling monks on the road."

"Bread?! With cinnamon?!" Lampow jumped, his eyes sparkling.

Knuckle laughed heartily.

"Of course. But first, thank Ugetsu. He shared his noble tea with them to convince them."

Just then, Ugetsu appeared—elegant as always—with his sheathed sword at his side, knives in the other hand, and a serene face. His graceful silhouette moved like each step was part of an invisible dance.

"You didn't have to mention it, Knuckle-san," he said with a subtle bow. "What matters is that we can all dine in peace tonight."

"Ugetsu's the best!" Lampow shouted, hugging the bread with both hands. "After me, of course!"

Everyone laughed.

Amid the chatter, a distant whistle rang out. G, the Storm Guardian, arrived down the stone path, his red coat flapping in the wind. On his shoulder rested his trusty musket, and in his eyes—beside his tattoo—burned the fire of someone who lived on the edge.

"Another secret meeting without me? How rude," G muttered.

"You always show up when everything's done," Giotto scolded. "Went off to train alone again?"

G shrugged.

"The storm never rests, Giotto. And neither should you."

Lampow, chewing his bread, spoke with his mouth full:

"Of course Giotto rests! He lets me sleep on his cape! And when I'm sick, he makes me soup!"

G gave him a sideways glance.

"When are you going to grow up, dressed like a cow now, shrimp? Planning to stay in that mindset forever?"

Lampow exploded:

"It's not a cow costume, it's an indestructible bull armor!"

For a moment… silence fell as they remembered they were on a mission.

Lampow looked down. The bread froze in his hands. The flame of laughter dimmed for a brief instant.

Giotto noticed. He stepped forward and knelt at his level.

"Lampow… you matter just as you are. You don't need to grow up to be brave. I remember when you stopped two enemy families on your own during that storm in Tokyo."

Lampow looked up, eyes slightly watery.

"But… you're all grown-ups. You talk like adults. Fight like generals. I… I keep tripping and run when I get hurt."

Knuckle knelt beside him and offered a gentle smile.

"You know, when I was your age, I was weak. I hid behind trees. But you… you come out of a storm like a bolt of lightning. That's not something just anyone can do."

Ugetsu sat on the other side, unrolling a small music scroll.

"Your spirit is bigger than your body, Lampow. That's enough."

G remained standing, watching them all, until—after a sigh—he pulled a small box from his belt: a sweet wrapped in black paper.

"Here, cow-kid. My mother left this when she left. I never ate it. But maybe you, brat, will appreciate it more."

Lampow's eyes widened.

"G is giving me candy? Are you sick?"

Everyone laughed again.

The night wore on.

Beneath the shadow of the cherry trees, surrounded by laughter, bread, and fire, Lampow felt… just like them. Maybe his body was that of a child. Maybe his soul was trapped in that cycle of lightning and tantrums.

But that night, with his heart warm and beating strong, he knew he had a family that accepted him. That saw him.

And that… that was enough.

Giotto placed a hand on his head.

"No matter how many years pass, Lampow. You'll always be one of us. Always."

Lampow nodded, hiding his tears and chewing his bread.

And the fire kept burning.

"Giotto," Knuckle said seriously, "it looks like enemies are approaching. We'll have to fight."

Giotto nodded.

"Everyone, get ready."

"Lampow, do you really think you can take them all down?" Giotto asked with a confident smile, watching the boy in his makeshift armor. On his chest was a drawing of a bull with mysterious inscriptions.

"Of course I can, Giotto!" Lampow answered, puffing his cheeks and crossing his arms. "Because I'm the strongest, the most handsome, and the most feared by enemies. No one will break my defense!"

Giotto laughed, watching the campfire crackle between the stones. That night, as the stars rose above them, he knew he had found not just a battle companion, but a soul that could weather any storm.

"No matter where we are," Giotto said, "I'll always fight by your side, Lampow. And I'll always protect you, even if you're an unbearable brat."

"That's right!" Lampow shouted. "Because together we're invincible!"

All the young ones looked at him, sealing a silent promise that neither time nor distance could break.

Lampow pressed his fist to his chest. He didn't understand everything yet… but for Giotto, he'd fight like a bull. Even if he was afraid.

End of flashback

—Alright. Climb on my back.

Lampow blinked.

—Huh?

—Climb —Giotto repeated, crouching down and exposing his shoulders—. I'll carry you. But we have to go now, Lampow.

There was a silence. The little electric spirit hesitated for a second… until his expression turned into an excited grin, his tongue sticking out slightly from the corner of his mouth.

—Primo, you're the best! I'll ride you like lightning rides the clouds! Let's go, Express Primo!

Giotto said nothing. The Sky Flame had already ignited on his forehead.

The mud beneath his feet trembled as he channeled the rest of his energy. His body wasn't eternal, but with a clear goal, its endurance extended. And now he had one: carry Lampow back safely.

With the little bolt on his back, Giotto moved forward.

First at a trot.

Then in long strides.

And finally, vanishing into the mist and trees like a gust, at a slightly slower speed than before.

Thunder still echoed in the sky when Lampow raised his voice over the wind:

—Primo! Why are you so worried? Aren't Ugetsu and Knuckle just as strong as you in this new world?

Giotto answered without slowing.

—They're strong. But I'm not invincible. And neither are they. We barely know anything about this world, so we can't afford to underestimate anything. We have no time to lose.

Lampow lowered his head for a moment. Then murmured:

—...If you want, when we get back, I'll help you scare that ugly monkey.

For the first time during the run, Giotto smiled sincerely.

—Thanks, Lampow.

…

before the invocation of lampow

Clinging to a high branch, crouched low, his golden eyes watched the horizon. Rain slid down his fur without making him blink. The carved wooden staff rested on his knees. His mind went over the plan once more: infiltrate the group of the bandit Inari-han, make sure Ugetsu and Knuckle's team was the target… and unleash chaos.

He was barely ten years old, but his gaze was calculating, instinctive, and sharp.

—Those kids will fall today… —he murmured to himself, his voice so soft it blended with the wind's whisper—. Kids… who stole my father's glory from me.

...

Flashback begins

They were in the dojo.

The woven mats were damp from the rain, the roof leaked, and the incense burned out before finishing its chant. Kaien —upright, imposing, his gaze firm— held a letter.

An important letter from some criminal ally.

—"Giotto… has secured another major contract in the Land of Black Iron," —he read softly, barely moving his lips.

Then, silence.

Saruo, only nine years old at the time, stepped forward.

—Father… today I broke three planks with a single strike. Did you see?

Kaien didn't reply.

His golden eyes remained fixed on the letter, and in that instant, Saruo felt something inside his chest fade. A fire he had tried to ignite for years. His father's indifference hurt more than any blow.

—He's… just a kid like me —Saruo whispered, trying not to cry—. Why do you always talk about him?

Kaien barely glanced toward his son. His voice was low and unchanging.

—Because he has something you don't understand yet, Saruo.

—What is it?

—Intelligence… and a very rare kind of strength.

Saruo clenched his jaw.

Flashback ends

...

Back in the present, the rain continued falling on his shoulders. Saruo didn't tremble, but his tail twitched with nervousness.

—Intelligence and a very rare strength…? —he repeated quietly—. And what about those of us born to live in the shadows?

His heart beat faster. He wanted to earn that look. That approval.

But something inside him whispered: What if Kaien never looks at you, even if Giotto falls?

He shook his head in anger.

It didn't matter.

It didn't matter.

—You'll see my resolve today, Father —Saruo whispered, fixing his eyes on the path Giotto had just taken—. Even if I have to bring down the boy you admire with my own hands.

Saruo remembered what Kaien had told him. About those kids called Vongola. About an orphan named Giotto who built an escort company so efficient that even the merchants of the Land of Black Iron knelt to hire their services.

Saruo had never needed anyone… except Kaien. And seeing his father admire another child more than him —that hurt. That's why he trained: to be seen through his eyes.

Saruo hid among tall shrubs, his eyes gleaming like wild stars. His heart pounded at a thousand beats per second. The desire to please his father, Kaien, coursed through his blood, along with one certainty: he had to prove he was more than a monkey with a stick, as some called him.

He had practiced every jump, every spin, every strike with brutal discipline, under the harsh gaze of Masanobu.

And still, when he saw that boy running toward some unknown priority… he felt something different.

It wasn't fear. It was… curiosity.

—That's him —he said, narrowing his eyes—. That's the Vongola boss. The boy who's changing the order of things… and who's taken my father's attention.

He grinned to the side, showing his fangs.

—And he's away from his escort…

From his branch, Saruo watched the path Giotto had just left behind. The forest seemed to whisper under his feet. He stood slowly, tail swaying to maintain balance. Then, he leapt and landed without a sound. Not even the mud felt him.

The branch swayed behind him.

—This will be easy —he said.

But deep in his chest, something throbbed.

Was it excitement? Doubt? Fear?

Saruo wasn't sure. But he knew one thing: he had to act before the leader returned. He had heard the rumors of his superior strength. He hated him out of jealousy… but he wouldn't underestimate a child with strange powers.

His mission was to ruin a reputation. That would be his greatest revenge.

The plan begins.

To be continued…