— Yuuki Kagurazaka —
I was lying on my futon, trying to relax. We had been given a few days off after our last mission, a rare break in the relentless schedule. But relaxing was a skill I had yet to master. Knowing what the future held, every moment not spent training felt like a moment wasted. My body and mind, however, was protesting. The exhaustion was a deep, physical ache that went beyond simple muscle soreness. I had realized from the start that what I was doing was unhealthy. I decided on a compromise. I would use these four days, but only for light training, a maintenance routine rather than pushing my limits—
A soft pop and a shower of colorful confetti erupted around me. I flinched, letting out a groan. Fuck the System.
[Achievement Accomplished!]
The rolls had been coming in frequently lately, though their effects were more subtle than my other abilities. [Wo)man on Mission] had been invaluable, a mental anchor that let me power through the stress and fatigue of our missions. [Martyr] was a grim sort of insurance policy, a final guarantee that if I went down, I wouldn't go down alone. The major one, however, had been [Martial Arts Prodigy]. It had completely reshaped my understanding of combat. The change was so profound, so fundamental, that I knew with certainty that if I were to face my sensei or the Hokage in a pure hand-to-hand fight right now, I would likely win. That's how ridiculous the perk was.
I watched as the screen refreshed with the new achievement.
[Get Entered into the Bingo Book (B Rank)]
[Achievement Rank: MID]
My thoughts came to a screeching halt. Wait, wait, wait. The fuck? Oh, fuck me. It had to be the escaped Iwa chunin. He must have made it back and reported what he saw. A B-Rank bounty. Ugh. This was going to make everything more dangerous. Missions would be more complicated, every rogue shinobi looking for a payday would see me as a walking sack of ryō. People would know about me. I grimaced, a knot tightening in my stomach. I wondered what the entry would say. Would it mention my speed? My durability? This was exactly the kind of attention I never wanted.
My grimace deepened. Another mid-level reward to roll. I just hoped it was something that could help me deal with the new, very large target painted on my back.
[Rolling for MID level reward…]
[Result: Age Bringing Glory]
[Age Bringing Glory] (Refinement Chapter)
Age is a strange thing to the Shinigami. While the general rule is that the more powerful one is, the slower one ages, it can often move at different rates for unique individuals. Two captains of similar age may look entirely different, one a beautiful woman in her middle years and the other a wrinkled old man, despite the old man being by far the more powerful. But unlike mortal beings, the minds and bodies of the Shinigami rarely become frail. However old you may become, you appear to retain the full capabilities of your youthful prime. An aging elder's body still bulges with muscular power and a thousand year old doctor's mind remains as sharp as ever. The Reiatsu flows out strongly and indeed, there are some ways in which this age only makes you more deadly. The passing of years will slowly, independent of your actual training or learning, reveal to you secrets and developments to your skillset. The idle consideration given to one's powers or skills happens to uncover new ways to use old tricks, a method to slightly improve your control over a fire-based release or give a flash of inspiration to solve a long mulled over problem. These improvements come slowly but steadily, mainly to the things that you focus on in life. A legendary Kido Master would naturally find his spells and casting of spells to improve as he grew older.
At first glance, this was a relatively useless perk in the short term. It didn't make me faster or stronger right now. But, in the long run? Age was a very real factor here, a weakness many shinobi discarded until it was too late. Hiruzen's age was the very reason he would eventually fall to Orochimaru, his body no longer able to keep up with his mind and will. This perk erased that possibility for me.
That wasn't even to mention the idle growth the ability provided. It was a guarantee against stagnation. It would ensure that I never truly got stuck, that I would always find an answer, a new way to improve, a path to grow stronger. As I processed the implications, I felt a subtle but undeniable shift within me. It wasn't a rush of power, but a deepening, a sense of a well that had just expanded. My chakra reserves had grown, a rough estimate putting it at a twenty percent increase. It was a solid, immediate benefit from a perk designed for the long game.
Still, a B-Rank bounty. I was now a known quantity, a target. The thought was sobering.
Just as I was about to push myself off the futon to begin a light training routine, there was a sharp, distinct rap on my door. It wasn't a normal knock, it was a triple-knock which usually meant that this was Shinobi business.
I opened the door to find a figure in the stark black and grey of the ANBU, their porcelain weasel mask betraying no emotion.
"The Hokage requires your presence," the operative said, their voice a filtered, toneless rasp. "Immediately."
There was no room for questions. I just nodded, grabbing my sandals and following the silent figure out into the afternoon. We didn't head for the Hokage Tower. A genin making repeated, unscheduled visits there would start rumors, and the last thing I needed was attention on me. Instead, the ANBU led me on a long, circuitous route through the quieter backstreets of the village, ending at a discreet gate set into the wall of the Hokage's personal residence. It was my usual way in.
The ANBU let me through the entrance and then simply vanished, melting back into the shadows. I walked the familiar wooden corridors to the room where I had my meetings with Hiruzen. As I approached the shoji door, I could hear the low murmur of voices. He wasn't alone.
I slid the door open and stepped inside. Hiruzen sat at the low table, a cup of tea before him. My brows raised and my guard went up as I saw there was someone else in the room. I forced myself to relax as I recognized her. Tsunade Senju, the Slug Princess of Konoha. She sat opposite the Hokage, her back ramrod straight. She was wearing a simple grey kimono-style top over the standard blue shinobi pants, the top showing an ample amount of cleavage. I registered the details, processed it, and immediately gathered myself, my focus shifting to the far more pressing question of why she was here.
"You called for me, Hokage-sama?" I asked, giving a respectful bow.
"Ah, Yuuki. Sit down," Hiruzen said, his tone even. I did as he asked, taking my usual spot at the table, acutely aware of the third person in the room. "Yuuki, this is my former student, Tsunade. As you know, she was also the teammate of your sensei."
Tsunade, on the other hand, was looking at me with a complicated gaze, a mixture of intense scrutiny, disbelief, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Can we get to the point," she snapped, her voice sharp and impatient, her eyes never leaving me.
Hiruzen let out a long, slow breath. "Tsunade here is acting as the current Clan Head for the Senju, Yuuki. She is also, as you may already know the Grand—"
"Everyone knows, sensei," she cut in, her tone dismissive.
He just sighed, a deep, weary sound that spoke of long years of dealing with this exact personality. "Yuuki," he said, turning back to me, "if you would."
Acting as the Senju Clan Head— ah, I get it. Months ago, Hiruzen had asked if I wanted to meet the Senju immediately. I had declined then, telling him I wanted to get a better handle on the power first. Now that I had, it seemed the time for that meeting had come.
I simply raised my hand, focusing on that familiar, humming sense within me. A block of solid, living wood grew smoothly from the center of my palm. I saw Tsunade's eyes widen, her professional composure cracking for just a moment.
Suddenly, without asking, she lunged forward, her hand reaching for mine. On instinct, a reflex honed by months under Orochimaru, I flinched back. The block of wood in my palm sharpened instantly, extending into a spike that pierced her hand as it closed in. She let out a sharp hiss of pain, snatching her hand back just as quickly.
"I was just inspecting it, brat," she growled, her tone making me instantly annoyed.
"Maybe ask first before you lunge at someone?" I shot back. What an abrasive woman.
"Tsunade," Hiruzen said, his voice carrying a quiet but unyielding warning. She stopped whatever retort was about to leave her lips.
She seemed to compose herself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I apologize," she said, the words sounding stiff and practiced. Her palm was enveloped in a soft green chakra. I watched, fascinated, as the small puncture wound sealed itself, leaving unblemished skin behind. Damn. I need to learn that. "May I inspect the wood?"
You can inspect my wood anytime, lady. Bad Yuuki. Down, boy.
I willed the spike to recede, the wood softening back into its blunt, blocky shape. I extended my hand forward, letting her touch it. Her hand glowed with that same green medical chakra as her fingers made contact. I tensed, feeling the energy probe the structure of the wood, analyzing its composition, its life force. She closed her eyes.
"It's... like his, but different as well," she whispered, her voice barely audible. When her eyes opened, they were distant, lost in a memory.
"Yes," Hiruzen confirmed, his gaze steady. "His ability does have a few differences." He paused, looking at me as if inviting me to continue the explanation. Having myself discussed in front of me was beginning to feel a bit demeaning, and I appreciated the silent gesture that gave me some autonomy.
"Oh?" Tsunade asked, her curiosity piqued.
"The primary difference is that it doesn't suppress chakra. It absorbs it," I explained. "It takes on the form of a wooden vine that attaches to the target. The more chakra they try to use, the deeper the roots go and the faster their chakra is drained."
Her eyes narrowed with a fascinated, almost predatory gleam. "That's fascinating. Show it," she demanded.
I met her gaze, a spark of annoyance pushing through my usual caution. "What's the magic word?" I asked. I knew saying that to a Sannin, the most powerful Kunoichi in the world, was profoundly stupid. But she had to be the rudest person I had met since arriving in this world.
She shot me a look that plainly said, Really? but I didn't waver, just held her gaze with a blank expression. I saw the muscles in her jaw tighten for a moment, a brief war between her pride and her curiosity. Curiosity won.
"Can you please show it?" Her tone was laced with an irritation so thick it was almost delicious, and I felt a surge of petty satisfaction.
"Of course," I said, a faint, polite smile touching my lips.
She held her right arm out over the table. I focused, drawing forth a thin, unassuming vine of wood from my hand. I wrapped it gently around her forearm. She flared her chakra, a controlled pulse of that potent green energy. I felt the change instantly. A sudden, distinct pull as the vine drew on her power, and my own reserves swelled slightly.
The vine reacted immediately. It constricted, tightening around her arm like a living vise. She winced as dozens of tiny, sharp thorns erupted from the wood's surface, piercing her skin. She deliberately flared her chakra again, a much stronger pulse this time, testing its limits. The thorns dug deeper, and the vine squeezed harder.
She let out a low, intrigued sound and cut the flow of chakra. The vine relaxed. "Interesting."
"What did you find out?" Hiruzen questioned, his eyes never having left the demonstration.
Tsunade's gaze was analytical, her mind clearly processing the results. "I didn't channel any chakra to my right arm, where the vine is," she explained, looking from her arm to me. "I focused a flow solely to my left, to enhance its strength so that I can physically rip it off. But the vine still reacted. The drain increased and it tightened."
She tapped her temple with a finger from her free hand. "That means the technique isn't drawing from the localized area it's touching. It's affecting my chakra system as a whole, like a parasite tapping into the entire network."
"How well do you think they'd work on the Jinchuriki?" Hiruzen asked sharply.
That surprised me. The Jinchuriki? We had never discussed the topic, but I knew what the term meant from my meta-knowledge though I had to feign ignorance.
"Jinchuriki?" I questioned, letting my confusion show.
Hiruzen's gaze was heavy. "Human weapons, Yuuki. Containers for the Tailed Beasts. They are each village's greatest deterrent... and this is one of our most volatile secrets. The current Jinchuriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox is a kunoichi named Kushina Uzumaki."
"I see," I said, letting the gravity of the revelation settle over me, playing my part.
"It could be even more lethal than Grandfather Hashi's ability, at least to them," Tsunade interjected, her analytical mind piecing it together instantly. "If they were to utilize the beast's power, they'd be constantly emitting chakra, which would strengthen your vines. The rate at which the chakra is absorbed seems dynamic to the size of the reserves being taken from. Against a Tailed Beast's immense supply... the brat would gain more."
Interesting. I hadn't considered it quite like that. The idea took root and blossomed in my mind with frightening potential. I voiced the thought out loud, "If I fought one of those 'Jinchuriki,' I could essentially use them as a nigh-infinite battery of chakra to use against their allies."
Tsunade snorted, a harsh, dismissive sound. "Only if you don't die instantly, brat." It was clear she was looking down on me, and with all the effort I had put in, the constant training and the real battles, that blatant condescension finally pissed me off. A deep frown settled on my face.
"Yuuki-kun is quite exceptional for his age, Tsunade," Hiruzen commented mildly, though I saw the warning flicker in his eyes.
"How about a spar?" I suggested, my annoyance sharpening my voice. I met her gaze, a challenging gleam in my eyes. Getting to fight someone on her level who wasn't my sensei would be an invaluable experience.
A slow, mocking smirk spread across her face. "You sure you can handle it?"
"I guess we'll see, won't we?" I replied, my voice steady.
The training ground we used wasn't that far away from the Hokage Mansion and was the one we usually used for my secretive afternoon training.
The training ground wasn't far, the same secluded spot nestled in the woods behind the Hokage's residence where I had my afternoon lessons. The quiet felt different now, charged with a different kind of tension.
"You sure you still want to do this?" she questioned, a condescending smirk playing on her lips.
A low but constant tune, the first notes of a battle theme only I could hear, started to play at the edge of my senses. I didn't say anything. I simply took a few quick steps back, creating distance, and settled into a stance. It was loose, my weight evenly distributed, ready to flow in any direction. It was a stance designed for the transition, to ensure I wouldn't get caught off guard. I wondered if Hiruzen had filled her in on my Attribute Distribution. To her, as the world's greatest medic-nin, the ability to fundamentally alter one's own physiology at will must be a fascinating concept.
I felt [Martial Arts Prodigy] kick in. It wasn't a rush of power, but of clarity. I looked at her, and my eyes narrowed. Her stance was loose, but not like mine. Hers was the looseness of overconfidence. My new perk didn't just let me observe her; it gave me a blueprint. I saw the countless flaws in her posture, the slight imbalance in her weight distribution, the fractional opening she left as she shifted her feet. It wasn't just an observation; it was a roadmap, a perfect set of instructions on how to take her apart.
I decided to take advantage of the gift she was giving me.
I entered "Swift" and ran straight at her. The world became a soft-focused blur as I moved, a grey streak closing the twenty feet between us in the space of a heartbeat. It wasn't a lie to say I was likely far faster than most active Jonin.
She wasn't a Sannin for nothing. A flicker of surprise widened her eyes, but she reacted, her arm coming up to block just in time. But she was reacting to the charge, not the attack itself. At the last possible moment, I shifted, my momentum flowing from a straight charge into a powerful, snapping kick aimed at her side. My stats flowed with the movement, pulling points from pure speed and dumping them into "Might." Not all of it — I wasn't trying to break her ribs — but enough to make a very clear point.
The impact sent a dull, solid thud echoing through the clearing. She went flying, not tumbling, but launched sideways, her feet skidding across the dirt before she righted herself. She clutched her side, a soft green glow already enveloping her hand as she instantly began to heal the damage. The smirk was gone. Her eyes were wide, not with pain, but with genuine shock.
I didn't pause. I didn't give her a moment to process. I started running at her again.
This time, she was ready. I could see the shift. Her face went neutral, her expression sharpening into one of intense focus. Her stance tightened, her body coiling with power. As I closed in, she didn't try to meet my speed. She slammed a single fist into the ground.
A powerful tremor shot through the earth, the ground rippling towards me, designed to shatter my balance and break my charge. But I was ready for it. Just as the tremor reached my feet, two thick, powerful roots erupted from the ground beneath me. They didn't attack her; they wrapped around my legs and launched me, catapulting me up and over the destabilized earth and into the air.
I was mid-air, a perfect vantage point. I formed the single bird seal. "Wind Style: Wind Bullets," I said, my voice sharp and clear. I spat out a volley of small, compressed bullets of wind, each one a hard, piercing projectile. They weren't powerful enough to seriously injure her, but they forced her to move, to jump and dodge, preventing her from setting up another attack as I landed lightly on my feet, back in my ready stance.
"You're one annoying brat, aren't you?" she growled, her previous shock now replaced by a familiar, competitive fire. She ran towards me.
Call me stupid, call me arrogant, but I met her charge head-on. With [Martial Arts Prodigy] flooding my mind with a new, instinctual level of combat knowledge, I knew something with absolute clarity: when it came to pure taijutsu, nothing in this world would match me. And that was Tsunade's fault. Not a flaw in her as a person, but in her style. She was a finisher. Her true, terrifying combat capability was designed to pop opponents like balloons, to end a fight with a single, chakra-infused blow that could shatter mountains. I wasn't ready to be hit by a force that could crack a Susanoo. But this was a sparring match. She wouldn't use that kind of power. Here, in this close-quarters exchange, her style was less adaptable.
Her form was good, nearly perfect, and left very few openings. But "very few" didn't mean "none." The ground seemed to tremble with each of her powerful strides. She closed the distance and threw a straight, piston-like punch aimed at my chest. Blocking a punch from her, even a casual one, would be like trying to stop a freight train. I didn't try.
Fueled by "Swift," I slipped inside her guard, the world a fraction slower to my perception. My new talent showed me the opening, the fractional shift in her balance as she committed to the blow. I twisted, my fist driving upwards in an uppercut. My mind split. One part focused on the physical battle before me, the other reaching down, sinking my will into the earth beneath her feet.
She was a Sannin, her reflexes honed by decades of battle. She saw the uppercut coming and brought her other arm down in a parry, deflecting the worst of the blow. Still, the impact connected, not cleanly enough to daze her, but with enough force to snap her head back and send her staggering a few steps.
That was the moment. Just as she was planting her feet to regain her balance, the ground beneath her erupted.
Thick roots, as strong as pythons, shot out of the churned earth, coiling around her arms and legs, locking her in place. For a moment, she was genuinely surprised. Then, she grit her teeth, and I saw a flash of the raw power that made her a legend.
"Not bad, brat," she grunted, and then she pulled. The wood groaned and splintered under the sheer, raw power she exerted. The roots around her left arm snapped with a sound like cracking timber. She was about to rip her other arm free. My trap was failing.
There was no time for another physical attack. Just as she tensed her muscles to shatter the remaining bonds, I played my last card. I focused again, sending a different kind of construct forward. A thin, fast root, more like a living vine, snaked through the churning dirt. It shot up and wrapped itself around her waist, a small, ugly-looking bud sprouting from its tip and pressing against her stomach.
She paused, and then her eyes widened. The incredible strength that had been about to tear my construct apart vanished. The struggle ceased instantly. She could feel her own power, her vast chakra reserves, being siphoned away, turned against her.
"Winner, Yuuki-kun," Hiruzen's voice cut through the air, sharp and definitive.
The moment he called the match, I let go. The vines receded back into the earth as if they had never been there'. The combined strain was immense. Controlling my stats, fighting a Sannin, and manifesting two different kinds of wood constructs at once... it was too much. The world tilted, and I collapsed to my knees, gasping for breath, my chakra reserves damn near depleted.
I saw a hand hover over me. I briefly wondered if she was petty enough to hit me after I won. Surprisingly, she just offered it, palm open. I took it, and she pulled me to my feet.
She looked impressed, a genuine, wide smile replacing her earlier scowl. "Damn kid, you're supposed to be a Genin?" she said, shaking her head in disbelief. The praise was so direct, so unexpected, that I felt a light blush rise to my cheeks. It felt nice.
"You could have still kicked my ass if you hadn't had to hold back, though," I said, a slight frown returning. It was the truth.
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You've had what? A few months of training, ki— Yuuki?" I appreciated her using my name. "You'll only get better with age. Now, how the fuck are you so freakishly fast and strong?"
Just then, Hiruzen walked over, his expression one of weary amusement. He looked at his student. "I told you he was exceptional, Tsunade. Your first mistake was underestimating him." He then turned his gaze to me. "And your taijutsu has evolved remarkably, Yuuki-kun. Your sensei's lessons are clearly taking root."
That praise led to me explaining my Attribute Distribution as we walked back to the mansion. As expected, Tsunade was immediately fascinated, the scientist in her overriding the brawler. Her questions were sharp and insightful, probing the biological limits and potential applications of the ability. When she asked to observe a few tests, her tone was polite, genuinely curious. I acquiesced, as long as the tests weren't too intrusive.
Her demeanor had completely shifted. She was relaxed now, even laying a hand on my shoulder casually as we walked, pointing out ways that she could have countered me if it had been a real battle. What a weird woman.
After arriving back at the residence, I was dismissed for the day and told to come back tomorrow. I gave a casual salute and left. Man, that spar helped to relax me.
It didn't take long for my mood to get even better. As I reached the edge of the grounds, I heard the familiar sound of confetti. I didn't even flinch this time.
[Achievement Accomplished!]
[Win A Spar Against A Sannin (Tsunade Senju)]
[Achievement Rank: MID]
When I arrived home, I lay down on the futon, focused my will, and decided to roll for the perk immediately.
[Rolling for Mid-Level Reward…]
[Result: Training From Hell]
[Training From Hell] (Talent Chapter)
Blood, sweat, and tears. The cornerstone for all hard work training. It's just a shame that not everything can be solved by putting your head to that grindstone and beating it till it bleeds. You managed to break that invisible boundary and get the chance to make yourself miserable to solve all your issues. You've become able to train anything about yourself. By repeatedly using and abusing some part, power, or aspect of your being, you can slowly start to make it better overall. Want your regeneration speed to work faster? Subject yourself to horrific injuries over and over and over again for a few months and watch yourself regenerate in just a fraction of the time it normally takes you. Want to have more magical energy? Empty out your reserves over and over for a couple weeks and see how many sizes that inner lake grows. So long as you can use it, you can grow it.
Source: UQ Holder
A wry thought cut through the satisfaction. This perk would have been incredibly useful a year ago. Back in the Academy, my entire routine was built around exhausting myself, pushing my body to its absolute limit day after day. That constant cycle of depletion and recovery was already effective. With this? The gains would have been even more absurd.
Still, it wasn't too late. A limit-breaker perk that rewarded pushing past my limits was exactly what I needed. It would help me grow faster, and with Orochimaru and the war breathing down my neck, speed was everything. The core of it was simple: true growth only came from true effort. I couldn't just go through the motions. To get the benefits, I had to actively push myself to the point of failure. Emptying my chakra reserves wasn't just a side effect of training anymore; it was the goal. Training had to be a constant process of abuse and recovery.
AN: I'm really nervous with how this turned out, I apologise for skipping uploads for so long, unfortunately exams have been killing me. Still, I think the burnout that I was experiencing for this story has decreased — I wouldn't say it's gone entirely, but I've got some ideas, and it's time to start escalating Skitter-style. I hope Tsunade being abrasive isn't weird, again, it's been a while since i've posted and written this up.
A couple things to clarify - I've tried giving Yuuki a bit more personality and "want" for a lack of a better term, which I think that I've not particularly been doing that well. I feel like Yuuki has been very "passive".
The fight with Tsunade was a spar. Yuuki isn't nearly at the level of Tsunade, at best he might be able to take her down with him, because again Tsunade's strength is absurd. There has been a lot of talk about the perk from OPM. I'm applying it to Taijutsu only, though I think I'll have him re-create Tsuande's strength technique.
As usual, please like and comment your thoughts, thank you for your support.
If you want, you can read ahead over on https://www.patreon.com/spider_lite for advanced-chapters, the latest one is 7K in length that covers the events of the Minato special.
*Konoha Teleportation Squad are Genma, Raido and Iwashi (also messed up ages are really starting to bite me in my ass…)
,Chapter 15
The next day, we gathered in the training ground. The air was cool, the usual pre-training tension hanging between us. Orochimaru's arrival was as sudden and silent as ever. One moment, the space in the center of our triangle was empty; the next, he was there, his expression grim but not particularly surprised.
He didn't speak. Instead, he produced three identical, thin books from within his sleeve — Bingo Books. He tossed one to each of us. They felt heavier than they should have.
"Page 43, 44, and 45," he said, his voice flat.
My hands felt cold as I opened the book. I went to Page 43, which was Anko's page first. There was her Genin ID photo, a picture of a girl trying to look tough and somewhat succeeding. Beneath it, the text was stark.
Name: Anko Mitarashi
Rank: Low - C
Bounty: 50,000 ryo
Threat Level: Genin to Low-Chunin.
Affiliation: Konohagakure. Student of the Sannin, Orochimaru (See pg. 16).
I flipped to the next page. Asuma's photo was more composed, his face held high and a determined expression on his face.
Name: Asuma Sarutobi
Rank: Low - C
Bounty: 50,000 ryo
Threat Level: Genin to Low-Chunin.
Affiliation: Konohagakure. Son of the Third Hokage. Possesses a Wind affinity. Student of the Sannin, Orochimaru (See pg. 16).
My own stomach tightened. I already knew what was coming, but seeing it in print felt different. I turned to page 45. My own Genin photo stared back at me, a neutral expression on the face of a boy who had no idea what was coming.
Name: Yuuki Kagurazaka
Rank: High-B/Low-A
Bounty: 500,000 ryo*
Threat Level: Engagement by Jonin is advised. If engaged by a squad, multiple Chunin are recommended. Suspected to possess an unknown Hidden Technique granting unnatural strength, speed, and durability. Extreme caution is advised. Student of the Sannin, Orochimaru (See pg. 16).
I winced. I knew about the bounty, but damn. Five hundred thousand ryo. That was a lot of money. It wasn't just about the cash; it was about what it represented. That amount would attract not just opportunistic missing-nin, but dedicated hunting teams. Every mission, every step outside the village walls, had just become exponentially more dangerous.
"A C-Rank bounty..." Anko breathed, a slow, wide grin spreading across her face. "Heh. Awesome." She looked from her page to mine, her eyes gleaming with competitive fire. "Don't get too cocky, Kagurazaka. I'm gonna match and surpass yours in no time!"
"A higher bounty isn't a good thing, Anko," I deadpanned, my voice flat.
Her grin didn't falter. "Says you."
I glanced at Asuma. He was staring at his own entry, his expression complicated. There was a flicker of something in his eyes — frustration, maybe, or envy — but he quickly suppressed it, his face settling into a grim mask.
I turned to face my sensei, catching his eye and giving a slight, almost imperceptible gesture to talk privately. He saw it, his golden eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second before he gave a subtle nod in return. Anko and Asuma were too preoccupied with their own thoughts, staring at their newfound infamy in the pages of the book, to notice the silent exchange.
Orochimaru cleared his throat, his voice cutting through their reverie. "Gather yourselves. Meet back here in one hour. It is time we take your training to new heights."
Everyone nodded, the weight of the new reality settling in. I turned and walked deeper into the woods, needing a moment of quiet. Anko and Asuma scattered in their own directions. A minute later, I heard a faint rustle of leaves behind me. Orochimaru had followed.
He came to a stop beside me, his presence a familiar, unsettling weight.
"Is it wise for them to be taking missions with me now?" I questioned, a frown on my face as I stared into the dense foliage. I could take care of myself. I was strong, if the worst was to happen, then with the help of [Living Disaster] I knew I could survive nearly anything normal this world could throw at me. But what about them?
Orochimaru looked contemplative. Over the past few months, he had relaxed around us, a subtle shift in his demeanor. He seemed almost fond of our team's antics, and while he tried to maintain his mask of clinical detachment, the glint of pride in his eyes after each successful mission was clear enough.
"I myself find it conflicting," he admitted, his voice a low hiss. "Now that it is openly known that you are my students, the danger of every mission will spike. Not just from opportunistic rogues, but from dedicated Hunter-nin squads." He paused, his expression turning serious. "Rogue shinobi often grow weaker over time, lacking the resources and regular training needed to maintain their skills. But Hunter Squads are a different breed altogether."
He frowned, a genuine look of concern that was somehow more unnerving than his usual smile. "Hunter-nin are designed to take down a specific target. They will gather information from every fight, every new skill you show which is then passed down their network if even one is to escape alive. They are relentless, and they are hard to escape."
He took a breath and turned to face me, and in an instant, the concerned sensei vanished, replaced by the predator I knew him to be. A slow, sadistic smile spread across his face.
"Worry not about them, Yuuki-kun," he purred. "As your sensei, I will handle their training."
A sudden, profound sense of pity for Anko and Asuma washed over me. I felt really, really bad for them.
The next morning, I found Orochimaru waiting in our usual training spot, his expression thoughtful as he observed Anko and Asuma running through their morning drills.
"Sensei," I said, approaching him as my teammates continued their exercises. "I need to ask you something."
His golden eyes shifted to me, curious. "Oh?"
"I want to focus on my wind affinity," I said directly. "With these bounties... I need techniques I can use openly. My other abilities..." I let the implication hang in the air. We both knew what I meant. My nature release was too dangerous to reveal, too valuable to risk exposing in every skirmish unless I want an even bigger target on my back.
Orochimaru's lips curved into a thin smile. "Wise. Your wind affinity is exceptional, but raw talent means nothing without proper development." He paused, considering. "Very well. I will provide you with the foundational exercises for chakra nature transformation. The rest... will be up to your own dedication."
That afternoon, he led me to a secluded section of a different training ground where a small waterfall cascaded down a rocky cliff face. The sound of rushing water filled the air, a constant, soothing backdrop.
"Nature transformation," he began, his voice taking on the instructional tone I'd grown familiar with, "is the process of changing the fundamental properties of your chakra. For wind users, this means developing cutting power, sharpness, and penetration."
He picked up a leaf from the ground, holding it between his fingers. With a small pulse of chakra, the leaf split cleanly in half, the cut so precise it looked like it had been made with a razor.
"You will start with leaves," he said, handing me a small pile. "When you can cut through them consistently, you will move to rubber, then branches, then rocks and boulders. Eventually..." He gestured toward the waterfall. "That will be your final test."
He spent the next hour explaining the theory, the mental exercises needed to shape chakra into its elemental form. Then, with characteristic directness, he simply said, "Practice," and left me alone with my thoughts and a pile of leaves.
The first day was humbling. I could feel my wind chakra, could sense its sharp, cutting nature, but translating that into actual results was another matter entirely. Leaf after leaf crumbled in my hands, torn rather than cut, my chakra too unfocused to achieve the precision required. There was a difference between Wind Nature Manipulation and using a Wind Jutsu, when performing a jutsu, the handsigns took care of a majority of the work and concentration.
But I persisted. Hours passed. My chakra reserves drained steadily as I pushed myself through exercise after exercise, each failure teaching me something new about the nature of wind itself. By the time the sun began to set, I had managed to cut through exactly three leaves cleanly. It wasn't much, but it was progress.
The next day was better. And the day after that, better still.
By the end of the first week, I was cutting through branches with ease, my chakra responding to my will with increasing precision. The constant cycle of exhaustion and recovery, amplified by [Training From Hell], was paying dividends. Not only was my wind manipulation improving at an accelerated rate, but I could feel my chakra capacity expanding, growing to accommodate the demands I was placing on it.
"Your progress is remarkable," Orochimaru observed one afternoon, watching as I sliced through a thick branch without visible effort. "Most students require months to reach this level of control."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks at the unexpected praise. "I just... I know what needs to be done," I said, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. "You gave me the foundation. The rest is repetition."
"Repetition with purpose," he corrected, his voice carrying what sounded like genuine approval. "Many students practice. Few truly train. There is a difference, and you understand it instinctively."
The compliment sat strangely with me. Part of me wanted to dismiss it, to maintain the careful distance I'd built between us. But another part, the part that had been working alone for hours every day, appreciated the recognition. After years of hiding my true capabilities, having someone acknowledge my dedication felt... good.
By the second week, I had progressed to cutting through rocks and small boulders. The exercises were becoming more demanding, requiring not just precision but raw power though that I had plenty of. I would stand before increasingly thick pieces of boulders, forming the single bird seal to get the flow of chakra that soon had become second nature, and release focused blades of wind chakra until my reserves were completely depleted.
The training ground around me bore the scars of my efforts. Dozens of wooden targets lay split and scattered, testament to hours of relentless practice. My single-handed seals, already effective for basic techniques, were becoming more refined, more powerful. I could feel myself approaching the level where even B-rank wind jutsu might be possible with just that simple gesture.
But the waterfall remained unconquered.
I stood before the rushing cascade, my chest heaving, sweat dripping steadily onto the packed earth beneath my feet. My chakra reserves were nearly empty, that familiar hollow ache settling deep in my bones. I raised my hand, forming the bird seal with practiced ease as I held a hand to the water, and released everything I had left.
The wind chakra struck the waterfall with tremendous force, carving a visible channel through the rushing water. For a moment, the flow was disrupted, split by the sheer cutting power of my technique. But then my chakra sputtered and died, and the water resumed its natural course, as if nothing had happened.
"Damn," I muttered, letting my hand drop to my side. I was close, so close I could taste it. But something was still missing.
"The waterfall requires more than just power," Orochimaru said, appearing beside me with his characteristic silence. "It demands perfect unity between strength and control. You are attempting to split your focus between raw force and technical precision. Perhaps... too ambitious for now."
I frowned, knowing he was right but hating the limitation nonetheless. "I can feel it," I said, staring at the rushing water. "I know I have the power. It's just..."
"Patience," he advised, his voice unusually gentle. "Mastery cannot be rushed, no matter how exceptional one's talent. You have made remarkable progress in just two weeks. Most shinobi would require years to reach your current level."
Praise was rare, and each time it caught me off guard. There was something in his tone, something that seemed almost... proud. Not the clinical satisfaction of a researcher observing a successful experiment, but the genuine pleasure of a teacher watching a student excel.
"Your dedication is impressive, Yuuki-kun," he continued, his golden eyes taking in the scarred training ground around us. "Most shinobi require constant supervision to maintain such intensity. But you... you push yourself harder than I would push you. It's a rare quality."
I felt that familiar flush of embarrassment, the conflicted pleasure of recognition from someone whose approval I feared. "Thank you, sensei," I said quietly.
He nodded, a small, genuine smile touching his lips. "You are welcome. It is... satisfying to teach a student who truly wishes to learn."
As we parted ways that evening, I found myself thinking about that smile. It hadn't been the predatory grin I was used to, or the polite mask he wore in public. It had seemed real. Human.
Maybe that was the most dangerous thing of all.
— Orochimaru —
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the training ground as Orochimaru observed his students from the treeline. Anko was practicing her throwing accuracy with typical intensity, her movements sharp and focused. Asuma sat apart from her resting, his back against a tree, staring at nothing in particular with a brooding expression that had become all too familiar.
The boy's jealousy was becoming a problem.
Orochimaru had seen this pattern before, though the memory it stirred was an unwelcome one. The way Asuma's jaw tightened whenever Yuuki demonstrated a new technique, the flash of resentment in his eyes when praise was directed elsewhere... It reminded him uncomfortably of Jiraiya in their early days. The same bitter envy, the same sense of inadequacy when faced with natural talent.
Their sensei, Hiruzen, had been too gentle then. Too trusting that the issue would resolve itself through time and camaraderie. He had let it fester, allowed the poison of comparison to eat away at team cohesion until it nearly destroyed them entirely. The memory of those early missions, tense with unspoken resentment and barely contained hostility, still left a sour taste in his mouth. Sure, it had worked out in the end but it was a problem that could have been contained from the beginning.
Orochimaru would not make the same mistake.
He formed a single shadow clone with practiced ease, the duplicate materializing silently beside him. "Handle Anko's training," he instructed with a subtle gesture toward the girl. "Standard accuracy drills, then conditioning. Keep her occupied."
The clone nodded and moved toward Anko, who barely looked up from her target practice as it approached. Good. She was focused, driven by her own competitive fire rather than poisoned by comparison. Her issues were different, more manageable.
Orochimaru himself approached Asuma, his footsteps deliberately audible on the packed earth. The boy looked up as he drew near, his expression carefully neutral in the way that only came from years of needing to keep his expressions contained. The mask of a Hokage's son, designed to hide weakness.
"May I?" Orochimaru asked, gesturing to the ground beside the tree.
Asuma nodded, shifting slightly to make room. Orochimaru settled beside him with fluid grace, his back against the rough bark. For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, watching the clone put Anko through her paces.
"What are you lost in, Asuma-kun?" Orochimaru asked finally, his voice carrying the gentle tone he reserved for moments like this. Not the clinical detachment of instruction, but something warmer. Well, as warm as he could make it, to him it likely came off as neutral and blunt, he hadn't been much for emotions and bonding.
Asuma was quiet for a long moment, his gaze fixed on his hands. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I feel... inadequate. When I watch him train, when I see what he can do..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching. "I'm supposed to be the Hokage's son. I'm supposed to be special."
The honesty was refreshing, if painful to witness. Orochimaru had seen too many promising shinobi destroyed by their own pride to dismiss such admissions lightly.
"I won't tell you not to compare yourself," Orochimaru said carefully, choosing his words with the precision of a surgeon. "Comparison is natural, inevitable. But there are people in this world who are monsters, Asuma-kun. Born to be special, gifted with talents that defy explanation or replication."
He paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "That does not mean those not born with such gifts cannot keep up. My teammate Jiraiya was..." He made a face, the expression genuine despite himself. "A complete loser, if I'm being honest. Loud, crude, perpetually distracted by women and sake. In our early days, I considered him barely worthy of the title 'shinobi.'"
Asuma looked up, surprise flickering across his features. It was rare for his sensei to speak so candidly about his past, his emotions.
"And yet," Orochimaru continued, his voice taking on a note of grudging respect, "over time, with dedication and relentless hard work, he not only caught up but earned my respect. Even if his usual antics make me want to strangle him within minutes of any conversation." The last part was delivered with such dry exasperation that Asuma actually cracked a small smile.
"The point," Orochimaru said, his tone becoming more serious, "is patience. You have advantages that Yuuki lacks. A clan, backing, resources. Use them. I've observed his training methods, and while his talent is undeniable, he puts in an extraordinary amount of effort. Hours upon hours of solitary practice, pushing himself to complete exhaustion daily."
Asuma's expression darkened again. "My father's always too busy to train with me properly. The clan elders are..." He gestured vaguely, frustration clear in the motion. "They expect me to simply absorb knowledge through proximity."
"Your father has the weight of an entire village on his shoulders," Orochimaru replied, his voice gentle but firm. "It's unfair, I'm aware, but there is a war ongoing, Asuma-kun. His attention is divided among a thousand critical concerns, each one potentially meaning life or death for hundreds of people."
He shifted slightly, turning to face the boy more directly. "But you have the rest of your clan. Experienced jonin who would be honored to train the Hokage's son, if approached with proper respect and genuine dedication."
Asuma nodded slowly, though the disappointment in his eyes remained.
Orochimaru studied him for a moment, weighing his options. The boy needed motivation, something to channel his frustration into productive growth rather than destructive envy. An idea began to form, dangerous perhaps, but potentially transformative.
"Tell me, Asuma-kun," he said carefully, "how much do you know about your clan's summoning contract?"
The boy's head snapped up, eyes widening. "The monkey summons? I... some. Father's never discussed the details, said I wasn't ready."
"Typically, one doesn't attempt the summoning trial until they reach chunin rank, or receive direct recommendation from the primary summoners," Orochimaru explained, watching Asuma's expression carefully. "In your case, that would be your father or your elder brother, both of whom are currently... occupied with more pressing matters."
He let the implication hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "However, if you can demonstrate the proper dedication this week, if you can show me that you're willing to set aside your envy and focus on your own growth rather than comparing yourself to others... I will speak with your father about allowing you to attempt the trial early."
Asuma's eyes went wide, his entire posture straightening. The monkey summoning contract was legendary, a mark of true strength within the Sarutobi clan. To attempt it and succeed as a genin would be unprecedented.
"You... you would do that?" he asked, his voice barely controlled.
"I would prepare you for it," Orochimaru clarified, his tone becoming more instructional. "The trial is not simply about raw power, but about understanding, respect, and the ability to form genuine bonds with beings far older and wiser than yourself. It requires maturity, patience, and above all, the ability to see beyond your own immediate desires."
He leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes boring into Asuma's. "Can you do that, Asuma-kun? Can you set aside your jealousy and focus on becoming the shinobi you're meant to be, rather than chase the shadow of someone else?"
The boy was quiet for a long moment, his mind clearly racing. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, determined. "Yes, sensei. I can do that."
Orochimaru smiled, and for once, it was entirely genuine. "Good. Then we begin tomorrow. And Asuma-kun?" He stood, brushing dirt from his clothes. "Your father may be busy, but he is not blind. He sees your struggles, your potential. Give him something to be proud of, and you may find he has more time than you think."
As he walked away, leaving Asuma to contemplate his words, Orochimaru allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The boy had potential, real potential, buried beneath layers of insecurity and misplaced envy. With proper guidance, he could become something remarkable.
The memory of his own team's early struggles lingered, but this time, things would be different. This time, he would not let pride and jealousy tear his students apart.
This time, he would succeed where his sensei had merely hoped.
As Orochimaru walked away from his conversation with Asuma, his attention shifted to the other half of his team's dynamic. Anko was still practicing her shuriken accuracy with the clone, her movements precise and economical. Each throw was followed by immediate analysis - adjusting her stance, correcting her grip, refining her technique without any external guidance.
Truth be told, he had neglected her training somewhat, and for that he felt a flicker of guilt. The girl's issues were less immediately pressing than Asuma's poisonous envy or Yuuki's need for advanced instruction, but that didn't excuse the oversight. Yet Anko had proven resourceful enough not to waste the time she'd been given. Every moment was spent attempting to improve what she had available to her - her accuracy, her physical conditioning, her basic ninjutsu forms.
It reminded him uncomfortably of himself at that age. The same relentless drive for self-improvement, the same refusal to accept limitations, the same hunger for knowledge and power that burned like a constant flame in the chest.
He gestured subtly to his clone, indicating it should take over Asuma's guidance, and approached Anko directly. She noticed his approach immediately, her throwing rhythm never faltering even as her attention split between targets and sensei.
"Sensei," she acknowledged, landing another perfect bullseye before turning to face him fully.
"Your accuracy has improved considerably," he observed, noting the tight groupings on each target. "But physical conditioning and weapons training can only take you so far at your current age. Your body needs time to mature before further gains become significant."
Anko's expression tightened slightly, the competitive fire in her eyes flaring. "So what, I'm supposed to just wait around while the others get stronger?"
"Hardly," Orochimaru replied, a thin smile touching his lips. "It simply means we shift focus. Your fire affinity shows promise, and your aptitude for ninjutsu is above average. It's time we developed that properly."
The idea had been forming in his mind for weeks now, crystallizing as he watched her train. Yuuki, with his wood release and unique physiology, could never truly be his successor - the boy's path was too divergent, too specialized. Asuma was a Sarutobi at heart, destined to follow his clan's traditions and his father's footsteps. But Anko... Anko had the hunger, the resourcefulness, the sheer bloody-minded determination that reminded him of his younger self.
That wasn't even mentioning the practical considerations. Finding a truly dedicated kunoichi was rare enough, but one with the right temperament for his particular methods? Almost unheard of. And if he was being entirely honest with himself, watching Jiraiya constantly brag about the Namikaze brat's talents had stirred something competitive in him. Let his teammate have his golden-haired prodigy - Orochimaru would craft something far more interesting.
"Your fire techniques are solid for a genin," he continued, "but they lack the refinement needed for true effectiveness. We'll work on chakra control exercises specific to fire nature, then move into more advanced applications."
Anko's eyes lit up with interest. "Advanced applications?"
"Patience," he chided gently, though his tone held amusement. "First, demonstrate your current capabilities. Show me your best fire technique."
She nodded eagerly, stepping back to give herself room. Her hands moved through the familiar seals - Tiger, Rabbit, Boar, Tiger - with practiced efficiency. "Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
The sphere of flame that erupted from her lips was respectable for her age and rank, roughly the size of a large melon and burning with steady intensity. It struck the designated target with a satisfying whoosh, leaving scorch marks on the wooden surface.
"Adequate," Orochimaru judged, "but inefficient. You're using nearly twice the chakra necessary for that level of output. Your control needs refinement."
He spent the next hour walking her through chakra flow exercises, teaching her to feel the precise amount of energy needed for each technique. It was delicate work, requiring patience and repetition, but Anko threw herself into it with characteristic intensity.
As they worked, an idea occurred to him. If he was truly considering her as a potential successor, it would be wise to gauge her compatibility with his more... unique methods.
"Anko," he said during a brief rest period, "how do you feel about snakes?"
She blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "Snakes? I... don't really have an opinion. Why?"
Instead of answering directly, Orochimaru bit his thumb and performed a quick summoning jutsu. A small puff of smoke cleared to reveal a young snake, no longer than his forearm, with scales that shifted between deep purple and black in the afternoon light.
"This is Kage," he said, as the snake coiled around his wrist with familiar ease. "She's young, but intelligent. I thought she might observe your training, provide... additional perspective."
The snake immediately lifted her head toward Orochimaru, her posture respectful. "Orochimaru-sama," she said in a soft, sibilant voice that made Anko jump. "You honor me with this assignment."
Anko's eyes went wide. "She can talk!"
"Of course I can speak," Kage replied, though her tone was measured, cautious. Her dark eyes fixed on Anko with obvious assessment. "I am a summon of the great serpent contract, not some common garden snake."
"The snakes of my summoning contract are far more intelligent than their mundane cousins," Orochimaru explained to Anko's amazed expression. "Kage here is still young, but she has excellent instincts."
Anko stared at the snake with fascination rather than fear. "She's beautiful," she said softly, extending a cautious finger toward the serpent.
Kage's tongue flicked out, tasting the air around Anko's hand. The snake remained coiled around Orochimaru's wrist, but her head tilted slightly as she studied the girl. "Your chakra is... warm," she observed neutrally. "Fire-natured. Interesting."
"Can I... can I hold her?" Anko asked eagerly, looking between the snake and Orochimaru.
Orochimaru glanced at Kage, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. "If she permits it," he said.
Kage uncoiled from his wrist with deliberate slowness, clearly still evaluating as she moved onto Anko's extended arm. She settled there carefully, maintaining perfect balance but without the relaxed comfort she'd shown with Orochimaru.
"Your chakra feels stable," Kage noted, though her tone remained reserved. "That is... not unpleasant."
Anko grinned, clearly delighted despite the snake's cautious demeanor. "This is so cool! I've never met a talking snake before!"
"Few humans have," Kage replied diplomatically. "We are selective about our associations."
As they resumed training, Orochimaru watched the interaction with interest. Kage remained alert and somewhat distant, though she did shift position on Anko's arm to help maintain the girl's balance during combat stances. It was courtesy rather than genuine partnership, but it was a start.
"Try your fireball again," Orochimaru instructed, curious to see if there would be any effect.
Anko nodded, her hands moving through the familiar sequence. This time, her chakra flow felt slightly different - not dramatically so, but there was a subtle smoothness to it. The resulting fireball was marginally more controlled, though the improvement was minor.
"Adequate," Kage observed clinically. "Your chakra becomes erratic when you force the technique. Less tension would improve efficiency."
"How can you tell?" Anko asked, fascinated.
"I can sense chakra fluctuations," Kage explained patiently, though she kept glancing at Orochimaru as if seeking approval for sharing such information. "It is a natural ability of my kind. When properly synchronized, a summon can help stabilize a partner's chakra flow - similar in concept to what your Inuzuka achieve with their ninken."
As the training session continued, Kage remained professionally helpful but clearly reserved. She would offer technical observations about Anko's chakra control and occasionally adjust her position to assist with balance, but there was none of the warmth or familiarity she showed with Orochimaru.
"That's enough for today," Orochimaru announced as the sun began to set. "Kage, would you be willing to remain with Anko for the rest of the week? Consider it an evaluation period - for both of you."
The snake lifted her head, thinking carefully. "If it serves your purposes, Orochimaru-sama, I am willing to observe this human more closely." Her tone was dutiful rather than enthusiastic.
Anko's face lit up with excitement. "Really? You'll stay with me?"
"For a week," Kage clarified, her voice still cautious. "We shall see how... compatible we prove to be."
"This is gonna be awesome!" Anko exclaimed, then caught herself and looked at the snake more seriously. "I mean, I'll do my best to be a good partner. Or... potential partner."
Kage's expression was unreadable, but she inclined her head slightly. "We shall see," she repeated.
As they packed up their training equipment, Orochimaru allowed himself a moment of cautious optimism. The interaction hadn't been the immediate bond he might have hoped for, but Kage's willingness to even consider the arrangement was promising. The young snake was naturally cautious - a trait that would serve her well - but she hadn't rejected Anko outright.
Time would tell if anything more substantial would develop between them. For now, it was enough that both were willing to try.
Truly, being a sensei was proving to be more complex than he'd initially expected. But as he watched his students - Asuma practicing his stances with renewed determination, Anko chatting animatedly with her new serpentine partner who looked to be overwhelmed, and Yuuki visible in the distance still pushing himself through wind training exercises - he found himself smiling.
Perhaps there was something to be said for this teaching business after all.
AN: So uh, it's been a while, eh? Look, I could say my Life's troubles here, I'm not going to because no-one really cares about it.
If you want to read ahead: patreon.com/spider_lite. The next chapter is pretty fun and will cover the events of "The Whorl Within the Spiral" with it being 8k words, I think? And the next chapter after that with the aftermath with us finally meeting more canon-characters that are relavent.
Original AN: There was a lot more that was supposed to happen in this chapter - an ambush from a Hunter-nin squad where you'd get to see the improved squad in action, interactions with Team Minato, and scenes with Minato and Kushina. But I wanted to develop the characters a bit more, specifically Orochimaru. He isn't a heartless monster yet - that only comes after the end of the Third War and his time under Danzo in ROOT when he truly goes evil.
Asuma's going to follow the path of the Monkey King because why not? By the way, he canonically does have an older brother (Konohamaru's father) who didn't even get a name in the series.
Anko is going to get Snake Summoning earlier because I feel like I've been neglecting her and all the characters, really. Next chapter, I'll make it a Yuuki POV and actually move the plot forward.
Please like and comment your thoughts: am I moving too slow? Was this chapter a nothing burger?
Spider-Lite, swinging away!