Less than half an hour later, the three of them were set up on the riverbank.
Souma was crouched beside a round slab of wood he'd sliced off a tree, using it as an improvised cutting board. His kunai, sheathed in the shimmering blue aura of Chakra Flow, carved through the boar's tough flesh with careful precision, reducing it into neat, manageable cubes.
Yohei – stripped down to his boxers, droplets of water still clinging to his skin – took each batch of meat and seasoned it with the spices from his "camping kit" scroll. After rolling each cube to make sure the seasoning stuck, he skewered the pieces and set them aside.
"You're a dumbass," Ren announced flatly.
He was dressed down to the same level as Yohei, sitting atop the tree stump Souma had harvested earlier, meticulously sorting through all the equipment he and Yohei had brought for the exam.
"That's rude," Souma said with a frown.
"Not you, Souma. You're perfect. I'm talking about the dumbass in front of you."
"Not that I disagree that I am a dumbass," Yohei replied with a raised eyebrow and a lazy smile, "but what did I do this time?"
"This," Ren said, holding up the small flask filled with green liquid – the one Yohei had taken from his mother's supplies. "Do you have any idea what this is?"
"Poison?"
"It's a paralytic," Ren deadpanned. "A good one. A strong one. If I'd known you had it, I could've put that boar to sleep. We wouldn't have had to fight it at all."
"Oh." Yohei blinked. "Wait, isn't this kind of thing really pricey? Maybe I shouldn't have-"
"Too late," Ren interrupted.
Yohei turned in time to see Ren already pouring precise drops of the liquid into a small opening at the back end of several hollow senbon.
'Mom is going to kill me, isn't she?' Yohei winced at the thought, then gave an awkward shrug and laugh.
"If we did that, we'd be eating dry rations instead of monster bacon, though," he said with a grin.
"That's not bacon. It's tenderloin," Souma corrected calmly. Both boys turned to stare at him as he added, "It's good for skewers and cooks fast over open fire."
They kept staring for a beat too long, and Souma blinked in confusion – right before they both burst out laughing.
"Thanks, Souma. I didn't know that."
"Didn't you say you liked cooking?" Ren asked, grinning.
"Liking something is not the same thing as being good at it," Yohei replied in a sage-like voice, eyes closed, one finger raised. Ren laughed again, and even Souma let out a small chuckle.
"Whatever you say, dumbass," Ren said without any bite, tossing something toward him. "Here. Also – why the hell were you even wearing those?"
Yohei caught the item. Sunglasses. The ones he'd brought to class yesterday to test his dōjutsu. Seeing them sparked an idea. He slipped them on and shrugged.
"Went to sleep too late a few days ago, so I was afraid the eyebags would scare off any babe if I got lucky and landed a pretty girl on my team. Unfortunately, I only got you guys." Then he struck a dramatic pose. "But I sure do look handsome in these, don't I?"
Ren snorted. "You wish."
Still laughing, Yohei wandered over to where their wet clothes hung drying, pretending to check on them.
"Honestly, I kinda liked wearing them. I only took them off because I thought they might affect my performance in the test."
As he said that, he guided a trickle of chakra to his eyes, feeling them snap awake.
Shinsōgan.
His vision shuddered, then stabilized – now threaded with new information. Two thin red strands extended from his chest to his teammates.
KOUEN REN
FRIEND
Yohei blinked. Ren was the only person whose relationship status had ever shown anything besides "Acquaintance." Sure, he'd only used the dōjutsu on a handful of people, but seeing actual confirmation of a growing bond tugged a smile out of him.
IS INTERESTED IN HIS CAREER.
LIKES ART AND BANTER.
DISLIKES COLD DAYS AND BEING PRESSURED.
'Dislikes being pressured? Not lazy people?' Yohei frowned slightly, remembering their introduction to their jōnin-sensei yesterday.
"I think there are some special lenses that look dark on the outside but transparent on the inside," Ren mused aloud.
"Really?" Yohei asked, a bit distracted by the dōjutsu's insights.
KUROYAMA YOHEI IS A RELIABLE TEAMMATE.
KUROYAMA YOHEI IS A SURPRISINGLY STRONG GUY.
KUROYAMA YOHEI IS A GOOD FRIEND.
"Yeah, pretty sure I've seen a Jōnin using them before, too. Must be expensive, though."
Yohei snorted. "I can imagine. Hey, can you light up the dry wood and put the skewers to cook?"
"Sure."
As Ren put his hands together in a hand sign, Yohei turned his attention to his other teammate, who had stopped cutting the meat and was now seasoning it.
MIKAZUKI SOUMA
BEST FRIEND
Yohei almost coughed aloud.
'Already!?' he thought, startled. 'How starved for human interaction are you, dude?'
He noticed then how Souma's thread was different from Ren's. While they were more or less the same thickness – only slightly bigger – something about it was new. Instead of being a single strand, it was made up of two intertwined together. And indeed, when he checked Ren's, he could now see another strand emerging from the smaller boy's chest, twining with Yohei's own about halfway.
Fascinated by this new aspect of his Dōjutsu but unwilling to waste too much time pondering it, he focused back on Souma.
IS INTERESTED IN SWORDS AND ROMANCE BOOKS.
LIKES SWORDS, SWORDSMEN, RAINY DAYS, HIS MOM, AND HIS TEAM.
DISLIKES SPICY FOOD, DECEIVERS, AND COWARDS.
'That's… Your mom was completely right, Souma! What the hell is this!? You should've been a samurai instead!'
KUROYAMA YOHEI IS A GENTLE PERSON.
KUROYAMA YOHEI IS SMARTER THAN ME.
KUROYAMA YOHEI IS REALLY AWESOME.
'I'm flattered! But what kind of impression of me do you have!? What did I do!?'
Struggling to keep his face from betraying his reactions, Yohei finished his "inspection" of the clothes and headed back toward their mini-camp, where Ren had his cheeks slightly puffed as he blew a steady thin stream of fire into a pile of dry wood.
He was just about to deactivate the Shinsōgan when he noticed something else.
There was a third, faint thread in the corner of his vision – and here, in the Training Ground, knowing the range limitations of his Dōjutsu, it could only mean one person.
Taking care not to show any sign he had noticed, Yohei sat down on a stone and pretended to watch Ren working on the fire.
"You know, I'm really envious that you already know elemental ninjutsu," Yohei said, adjusting his position to get a better angle on the surroundings, subtly tracking where the third red thread led. "And you too, Souma. Chakra Flow is one of the coolest things ever. I kind of want to pick up a weapon just so I'd have a reason to learn it, but I don't think I have the dexterity for that."
'There,' he thought triumphantly. 'On the other side of the river.'
Looking through his Dōjutsu, the third red thread led to a small, ordinary-looking brown bird. It had nothing remarkable about it, just drinking water among others of its kind who were pecking for insects or chirping in the trees.
Really, he'd never have given it a second glance – but when he focused…
SHIRAKUMO HAYAMA
ACQUAINTANCE
Yohei really had to control himself not to grin.
'The fucker is hiding with the Transformation Jutsu. For how long has he been watching us like this?'
"You're talking like you don't have your own tricks," Ren said dismissively, though there was a proud tilt in his voice. "Extreme Muscle Assault, was it? That thing's insane. How strong do you get when you're all buffed up like that?"
Yohei chuckled. "Not as much as you think. The swelling's more of a side effect than proof of anything. I get around… twice as strong? More or less. And it does have a side effect. Thankfully I just used it for a bit, so I'm only a little sore. But I don't think I'll be able to use it again for a few hours yet," he said – without a single trace in his expression that would reveal his every word just now was a lie.
"Sheesh."
"Yeah, it's a work in progress," Yohei said with a shrug before deactivating his eyes and taking off his glasses. He "checked" one of the skewers before his gaze was "drawn" to the poisoned senbon Ren had set aside. "Hey, I don't think I've ever seen senbon like these before. Are they custom made?"
"Not really? They're just specialized to deliver some kind of poisonous load, so they're a bit pricier for that."
Yohei hummed as he carefully picked one up. "Is that something you want to specialize in? Poisons?"
"To a certain degree," Ren agreed. "I mean, what I really want is to take the family jutsu to new heights, but using poisons to support them is actually really useful. So I keep some hollow senbon with me and a few vials of poison, but nothing lik-"
Before he could finish, Yohei suddenly spun around with all his strength and launched the senbon in his hand at one of the birds.
Before anyone could react, the bird exploded in a puff of white smoke – and in its place knelt their Jōnin-sensei, a thin cut on his cheek.
Souma had jumped the instant Yohei threw the senbon and was now at Yohei's side, hand on his sword hilt, eyes wide with shock. Ren looked even more stunned – mouth open, nearly falling off his seat. Even Hayama himself seemed caught off guard, fingertips brushing the cut on his cheek, staring at the blood in disbelief. His eyes widened, his mouth parted slightly as he looked at Yohei… who was grinning so widely hie could feel his cheek hurt.
"How?" Hayama asked faintly.
"I have no fucking idea," Yohei lied as easily as breathing, laughing. "You were just giving me really creepy vibes as a bird."
Hayama let out a startled huff of amusement, still clearly shocked, and stood up. His gaze sharpened as he placed a hand on his sword. Souma instantly dropped into a stance, looking ready to strike, when Ren shouted-
"No!"
When Souma shot him a confused look, Ren rushed to explain – disbelief and triumph mixing on his face as he ran a hand through his hair, glancing from their Jōnin to Yohei, who was still grinning like a madman.
"He can't attack us. He can't run, and he can't attack. He can only defend himself and counter. Until we go on the offensive, he's a sitting duck – and right now there's a good amount of paralytic running through his veins and locking down his muscles. And the longer we wait, the harder it's gonna hit."
Souma's eyes widened even more, his mouth forming a perfect little 'o'. He looked at the Jōnin, who showed no reaction – just stood there silently and unreadable.
Ren barked out a laugh, incredulous, and swung his gaze back to Yohei. "You fucked up my plan, you bitch."
Yohei started laughing too.
-~=~-
The next minutes were a whirlwind of activity – sharp, focused, and buzzing with that electric high of 'holy shit, we actually did it'. They'd just succeeded in the first part of the exam. Something that seemed insurmountable, something that should've taken perfect coordination, meticulous planning, and a fat chunk of luck… and they'd pulled it off.
And now they had hours to prepare at leisure.
…Except they absolutely did not.
Eventually the poison would flush out of Hayama's system – and none of them wanted to gamble on how long that would take – so they moved fast.
While the meat cooked, the three boys threw themselves into prepping the surrounding area. Cutting off movement routes for their sensei. Placing tag bombs and other explosives. Preparing more poisoned senbon. Arming themselves to the teeth with the frantic organization of soldiers on a mission.
Less than thirty minutes later, they'd changed back into their dry clothes, hydrated, and devoured enough meat to refill their energy – all while their sensei was left to bake beautifully in the sun. And now, all three of them stood before him.
Souma stepped forward first. He drew his sword, lowering into a stance as a mantle of chakra wrapped around the blade. Then, with his face scrunched in concentration, he formed several hand seals while still gripping the hilt. The chakra shifted – growing wilder, sharper – crackling with thin sparks of electricity running along the metal.
Ren followed. He moved through a long, downright chaotic sequence of hand seals that Yohei could barely follow. At the end of it, he exhaled a crimson flame – the same color as his eyes – coating his hands. The fire burned low and unnervingly still, calm in a way fire shouldn't be. Just looking at it made Yohei's stomach twist.
And then Yohei himself stepped forward.
He inhaled deeply, formed the ox seal, and exhaled – his body expanding, muscles bulging, doubling his size until his clothes strained against him. He looked like a one-man natural disaster.
For the first time since being exposed, Hayama spoke, raising one eyebrow.
"I thought you couldn't use it for a few hours yet."
"I was lying," Yohei said cheekily – his voice now noticeably deeper.
He glanced at Souma from the corner of his eye, worried about how the boy would take it considering what he'd seen through his Dōjutsu… only to find Souma nodding along without hesitation. That left Yohei momentarily confused.
"I see," Hayama said. He looked at the other two, then at the trap-filled surroundings. "Are you ready, then?"
The three genin shared a look – a silent agreement passing between them – before turning back to glare at their jōnin with fierce determination.
"Yes!"
"Good. In that case…"
They tensed as he moved, clapping his hands.
"You all passed."
…
"What."
Hayama laughed, giving them a wide, almost proud smile.
"Congratulations, my genin. You have all passed."
For a moment, Yohei could only hear the thudding of his own heartbeat.
Then the pressure in his chest – the one that had appeared when he killed the chakra beast – swelled by a magnitude.
And then there were shouts.
Who was shouting?
'Oh,' he realized, 'it's me.'
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!"
Ren dropped to his knees, hands trembling, tears spilling down his cheeks.
And Souma? Souma had sheathed his sword and apparently decided to reveal that not only was he a cuddler – he was also a hugger – because he grabbed Ren, hauled him upright, and dragged both him and Yohei into a crushing, joyful embrace.
Hayama watched them, chuckled softly, and shook his head.
"You three… you're really are something else."
[Chapter 7 - To Have Proven Ourselves]
Once the three of them finally stopped celebrating, they looked around and realized Hayama had vanished from where he'd been standing. He was now sitting by their improvised campfire, having lit it while they were distracted and set another round of prepared skewers over the flames.
He waved them closer, and they obeyed – Yohei practically skipping, still buzzing with giddy energy.
"Hmmm…" Hayama hummed once they were all seated, fixing Yohei with a knowing look. "It's interesting that you didn't notice it."
"Notice what, Shirakumo-sensei?" Ren asked with a small frown.
The older man gave a sly little smirk – and burst into white mist.
"That he was a clone," said the real Hayama as he dropped from a tree and landed in the very spot his clone had occupied a heartbeat before, laughing at the stunned expressions on his genin's faces.
"Wait- does that mean-?"
"No, don't worry. I said you passed, and you passed," Hayama assured them with a casual wave. "The truth is, it was a clone all along. Ever since you met 'me' at the gates, you've been following my shadow clone. I stayed hidden, observing the three of you."
"Why though?" Yohei asked, grabbing one of the skewers. The meat was still rare, and he took a bite without hesitation – prompting Ren to stare at him in open disgust.
Souma, watching this, grabbed a skewer for himself… took a bite… made an immediate face… and silently returned it to the fire to finish cooking.
Hayama chuckled at all three of them, resting his forearms on his thighs.
"To explain that, I should explain the purpose of this test," he said, lips twitching faintly when he said 'purpose.' "Ren-kun here got most of it right."
Ren's dusty skin instantly flushed red, mortified at the realization that their jonin had overheard him earlier telling the others about the information his family shared. Hayama only laughed and waved it off.
"No need to get embarrassed. Information gathering is one of the most essential parts of shinobi work. Nothing is 'unfair' in our world. Even if you didn't obtain the information personally, having a network that can supply it is just as valuable – and what matters is how you used what you had. Though in the future, make sure you do your own research. Secondhand information always carries bias and can often be faulty… though in this case, it wasn't."
Ren nodded vigorously at the instruction, earning a satisfied look from Hayama – before the man's expression shifted, turning stern.
"As you already know by now, I'm a search-and-destroy specialist," Hayama continued. "Most of my missions involve hunting down bandits and other criminals plaguing the Land of Fire and the surrounding nations. But it also means going after missing-nin and foreign shinobi who enter our territory without clearing it through official channels."
He leaned back slightly, the firelight catching on his eyes.
"It's hard work – dangerous too, too. I can spend a whole day, sometimes more than that, even, running after a target nonstop. And all the while, I have to conserve enough energy to subdue or defeat them once I catch up. Otherwise, all that chasing would be pointless, no? So yes, I need genin who can keep up with me and not hinder my missions. It's an important duty, and it can't be half-assed. However-" he stressed the word as he reached for a skewer, "this is where Ren-kun missed the point of the test. You are genin. Fresh genin. Straight out of the Academy. I'm an active jōnin with years under my belt. You would never, ever catch me if I didn't want to be caught, make no mistake. No matter how many soldier pills you swallowed – even if I followed the informal rules of staying in sight whenever you three were together – you would burn out long before I did."
"I suppose we weren't just supposed to fail, though?" Yohei asked with a grin.
"Heh. No. The purpose of the first part of the exam was to see how you would handle the situation. Would you give up when faced with an impossible task? Would you throw everything you had at it without thinking of the consequences? Would you coast? Would you pace yourselves? One way or another, I would've slowed down when time was almost up and allowed you to catch me. By that point, the clone would be nearly out of chakra, making the fight closer to your level. If you managed to land even one solid hit, you'd win. Of course," he added, "that would depend entirely on your skills and how exhausted you were by then. And the time limit was meant to force you into confronting me directly instead of relying on more traps – because once I stopped running, the point was to measure your combat capabilities."
Ren let out a strangled groan and buried his face in his hands. "So my plan really would've royally fu- messed us up," he said, voice dripping with embarrassment.
Yohei patted his back in sympathy, and Souma awkwardly mirrored him a beat later.
"Yes," Hayama said plainly. "You were wrong. That happens – all the time – even to the best of us. That's why shinobi almost never get solo missions. You're a team. You're supposed to support each other and point out what the others miss." He gave them a small smile. "That alone wouldn't have made me disqualify you, though I doubt you would've managed to pass if you'd stuck to that plan. What matters is what you did once your mistake was pointed out. You didn't blow up at your teammates, you didn't dig your heels in – you accepted you were wrong and moved on. You chose the wiser course of action, then created a plan that, while against the spirit of the test, still had a reasonable chance of succeeding depending on your execution and your luck."
He shrugged lightly. "Of course, if you had tagged the clone that early, it would've had more chakra and put up more of a fight. But on the other hand, you would've had plenty of time to prepare traps and avoid a direct confrontation. For that, I'm proud of you. All of you." His gaze swept across the three genin.
Yohei let out an embarrassed huff, smiling. Souma nodded with a soft look of satisfaction, and Ren ducked his head, trying to hide his expression – but Yohei caught the tiny, giddy smile and the tear gathering at the corner of his eye.
"All in all," Hayama continued, "this test was meant to measure your basic shinobi skills: your strategy, your ability to think outside the box, your teamwork, and your combat capabilities – all of which you demonstrated beyond what I expected. Sending you back to the Academy would've been a waste of Konoha's resources." His tone shifted, becoming more serious. "But you also showed something just as essential as all of those… something that can't be trained."
The boys straightened subconsciously.
"Luck."
"…Luck?" Yohei echoed.
Hayama nodded. "Luck is, in some ways, the most powerful thing a shinobi can have. You can't train it. You can't acquire it. It's simply a quality things – and people – have or don't have. I've seen exemplary shinobi, far stronger and frankly more talented than the three of you combined, crash and burn and lose everything – if not their lives – because they were unlucky. And I've seen bottom-of-the-barrel individuals, barely more capable than civilians, survive situations they had no right to survive. All because of luck."
Yohei hesitated, brow furrowing. "I think I get what you're saying, sensei… but isn't that a little, uh… unreliable?"
"Of course it is," Hayama agreed with a smile. "That's why you should still strive to improve everything you can improve. But don't discount luck – it'll either save you or damn you. And today is proof of that. Managing to guess something was wrong with my clone when it transformed into a bird? Actually managing to hit it and inject enough paralytic that it had to burn through most of its chakra reserves to purge it? Having brought that paralytic at all, and me giving you a task where it just so happened to be incredibly useful?"
He laughed lightly. "All of that is luck, my genin. And I'm a superstitious man – I like being surrounded by lucky people."
"I could've pushed the issue and made you fight the clone until it popped, but honestly? He wouldn't have gotten much out of you after how thoroughly you stacked the deck against him. Besides, your fight earlier against the chakra beast was enough for my purposes. Tomorrow, once we start training, I'll get a better measure of your full capabilities."
He pointed at them one by one.
"So once again, congratulations, my genin. You didn't play the game the way it was meant to be played. But if you want to be the greatest swordsma-" he pointed at Souma, "If you want to lift your name to the same heights as the Uchiha and Hyūga-" he pointed at Ren, "And if you want to change the world-" he pointed at Yohei with a smile,
"Then you can't play by everyone else's rules. You have to flip the board."
"Yes."
"Of course."
"Yes, sensei!"
Hayama laughed. "Good. In that case, let's eat. You have no idea how hungry my clone got watching you three chew through all that meat – some of that hunger carried over when it popped."
All three genin froze, sheepish realization dawning at the same time: they had made their sensei stand motionless under the sun watching them gorge themselves in the shade.
Seeing their faces, Hayama laughed louder. "Oh, don't worry about it – you did what you had to do."
Then his voice dropped, his expression sharpening into something downright predatory. "So when you experience hell again and again during training… please don't think I'm being vengeful. Or bitter. Or cruel."
A shiver ran down Yohei's spine. The man was genuinely leaking bloodlust as he took a bite of his skewer and hummed pleasantly.
"I'm just doing what I have to. Okay, my cute little genin?"
While Souma happily nodded and bit into his skewer, Yohei and Ren slowly turned toward each other. Red and blue eyes met with perfect, miserable understanding – a silent psychic bond formed in real time.
'We're fucked.'
[Chapter 8 – Rewards for a Well Done Job]
"I'm home!"
Yohei stepped through the door of his house, reaching back to turn on the corridor lights.
"Mom?" he called out, even though he already knew the answer – between the early hour and the dark house, she clearly wasn't home. He let out a small, disappointed sigh.
'I was kind of excited to tell her I passed,' he thought, feeling a little mulish about it. A second later, he flushed in embarrassment at the childish reaction before reminding himself that – ninja or not – he was still a kid.
Still, there was something else he was excited about.
As that thought crossed his mind, an eager grin spread across his face. He kicked off his shoes and rushed upstairs, his steps echoing against the wooden floors and staircase.
Inside his room, he flipped on the lights, locked the door, and closed the blinds. He turned on the fan to fight off the lingering heat before sitting cross-legged on the floor and taking a deep, steadying breath.
He raised a finger to his mouth, then blinked and let out a surprised chuckle.
His foreign memories were full of failed attempts to copy things he'd seen in anime – including, of course, biting his finger to use the Summoning Jutsu. Only to discover that it was far harder than it looked. The human brain had some impressively stubborn safeguards against self-harm; despite the fact that a human bite was strong enough to tear through much tougher materials, actually biting into one's own flesh was damn hard.
Then he recalled his own memories – from the Academy, roughly… a year or so ago? He wasn't entirely sure. But the lesson itself stood out clearly.
Medic-nin had been brought in from the hospital, and the children had been instructed to bite their fingers until they bled. The medics would heal them, and then they'd do it again. And again. The goal was to strip away that instinctive resistance and get them accustomed to the act.
Yohei brought his thumb to his mouth and set it between his canine teeth. A small application of chakra, combined with the improvements granted by the Forever Fangs, made it even easier than he was used to.
Then, following instincts that felt oddly alien, he ran through the hand seals:
Boar → Dog → Bird → Monkey → Ram.
He pressed his hand to the floor and-
Puff.
Found himself holding the Chaos Scroll once more.
He unfurled it with an anxious kind of reverence, eagerness barely contained by the strange sensation of treating something whose power and magnitude he couldn't even comprehend as if it were made of glass.
There, on the previously empty white surface of the scroll, were not one, not two, but four new fūinjutsu seals. With his room properly illuminated this time, he could see that they weren't black – instead, they were drawn in metallic hues. The first gleamed like bronze, while the other three were rendered in a dark silver.
Swallowing, he activated them one by one, carefully taking the smaller scrolls that emerged and laying them out on the floor in order. Once all four had been retrieved, the Chaos Scroll – now empty once more – vanished in a puff of white smoke, and the familiar weight settled back into Yohei's chest.
They don't match, he thought, studying the four scrolls.
He'd assumed the color of the ink would correspond to the color of the scroll itself, and thus its grade. But while the first three – including the one that came from the bronze seal – all had grey borders, the last scroll, which had emerged from a silver seal, was bordered in brown instead. He pursed his lips, trying to puzzle out what that discrepancy might mean.
With a sigh, he made a mental note to write these observations down later - in Portuguese. One unexpected blessing of his other memories was having access to an entire language and alphabet he could use as a kind of cipher, one that would be nearly impossible for anyone else to uncover without an unreasonable amount of effort.
He picked up the first scroll – the one he suspected had appeared after he and his team defeated the chakra beast – and undid the latch. As he opened it, he let out a relieved breath when he saw that it contained a technique rather than a bloodline limit.
[千音感知 – Sen'on Kanchi – Thousand-Sound Perception]
|D-Rank Kanchijutsu|
This technique allows the user to fine-tune their hearing to superhuman levels. Although its range is not increased, the user's ability to process and interpret auditory stimulus is severely enhanced. With this technique, even a normal human would be able to discern the sound of a coin hitting the ground in the middle of a crowded market.
Kanchijutsu – a sensor-type technique.
That… that was great. Like, absurdly so.
While some individuals possessed an innate sensor affinity – their chakra being naturally more sensitive to fluctuations and emanations from others and from their surroundings – actual sensing techniques were on an entirely different level. And while Yohei could tell from the description that this wouldn't function like a standard sensing technique that extended the user's perception outward…
Having one of his senses simply be better?
That alone was already a massive boon.
How much would it help in a fight to be able to perceive the sound of an enemy's clothes shifting? Of a weapon cutting through the air? Of breath hitching as they exerted themselves?
What if he created a technique of his own that actually made his hearing stronger?
If he could hear individual muscles twitching and contracting. The beat of another person's heart. Blood rushing through their veins. If he could mix something like that with the Thousand-Sound Perception, and train himself to refine this improved snse into instinct, wouldn't that amount to the same thing as the Uchiha's famed foresight?
Only… less obvious.
There wouldn't be anything as dramatic as glowing, spinning, blood-red eyes openly advertising to his opponent exactly what he was using to completely screw them over.
The image alone was enough to make Yohei giggle, giddy with possibility.
He forced himself out of that revelry a moment later, dragging his attention back to the scroll in his hands rather than the fantasies spiraling off from it.
He'd obtained it after killing the mutant boar.
Killing.
Was that the key to activating the Chaos Scroll?
If so, it clearly wasn't the only one - he hadn't killed anyone else, yet he still had three more scrolls. Still, killing now seemed like a confirmed way of gaining new rewards.
…Or was it?
What were the specifics?
Would he gain something for every life he took? Was it a matter of power? Of quantity? Was the threshold static, or relative to himself? He was fairly certain he'd stepped on at least one ant since obtaining the Chaos Scroll, yet that hadn't earned him anything. Would killing a rat count? A dog? A deer?
Or did it work on benchmarks?
Five people. Ten. Fifty.
…
He'd have to test it.
Not on people, for fuck's sake. Though he was certain that sooner or later he'd get an answer to that question regardless – mission or not, the world was full of assholes who were better off dead. Given the chance, he doubted he'd be able to let a rapist walk away.
'Focus,' he reminded himself sharply.
Animals, then.
Not pets. Not domestic animals – hypocritical as that line might be. He could go to a farmer, say he was a newly minted genin struggling with the reality of killing, ask to be allowed to slaughter cattle already destined for meat…
But that rang hollow. He'd already proven he didn't hesitate when facing the mutated pig earlier that day.
And ninjas, despite all their secrecy, were huge fucking gossips.
So were civilians.
The story would get back to his sensei sooner or later, and Yohei had zero interest in explaining why he was going out of his way to kill innocent animals. He'd rather avoid Shirakumo-sensei coming to the conclusion that he was a budding psychopath.
So what was a more acceptable option?
…
Hunting?
He'd have to look up what he needed in order to get permission to use one of the training grounds to hunt chakra beasts.
Having found a sufficiently acceptable solution, Yohei closed the scroll and set it aside, then reached for the next one.
[鉄身化 – Tesshinka – Iron Body Transformation]
|D-Rank Taijutsu|
This technique allows you to reinforce your skin and body until it resembles metal more than flesh, increasing your mass and granting superhuman durability. Even for a baseline human, a hanbō would break on impact, while kunai and shuriken become all but ineffective. Even a fall from a three-story building, while painful, can be walked away from. However, maintaining the Iron Body Transformation makes the user slower and less agile.
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes!"
Yohei couldn't contain his excitement as he read through the description.
With this, he had a full trifecta: an offensive and mobility technique, a sensory technique, and now a defensive one. All of them revolved around the same general theme, too – something he could plausibly excuse as a Yang Release specialization, maybe even pass himself off as some kind of prodigy.
That did mean he'd have to seriously dedicate himself to studying biology and human anatomy if he wanted to bullshit convincingly enough.
And he'd have to do it fast, if he wanted to use this technique without attracting uncomfortable levels of scrutiny.
"However…"
He cast a suffering glance at the mountain of books stacked on his desk and let out a long sigh.
This wasn't going to be easy. Or painless.
He'd never been the best student – in either of his lives - and biology was a dense, demanding subject. He couldn't half-ass it if he wanted the lie to hold up, much less if he wanted to actually use the knowledge to improve his techniques… or learn Iryōninjutsu.
And he did want to learn Iryōninjutsu.
He needed to.
It was healing. It was- it was life.
The power to stave off death - his own, and that of the people he cared about.
With the perspective brought on by his new memories, he couldn't help but wonder why this wasn't the most heavily researched branch of ninjutsu in existence. It was the path to longevity. To immortality, even. For Kami's sake, wasn't the perpetuation of life – and of one's own lineage – the most basic directive of any living being?
Was it humanity's obsession with conflict that kept them from pursuing it?
Or was it the influence of that piece of shit, black sludge with mommy issues?
Yohei had no idea.
And honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to.
He sighed again and looked down at the scroll in his hands.
"Well… at least it explains the ins and outs of the technique," he muttered. "That should give me a direction to start studying."
Setting it aside, he reached for the next one.
Another silver scroll – and unfortunately, not one containing a technique.
Yohei was already wincing when he saw it, but his expression shifted quickly: from reticent, to baffled, to confused… and finally to reluctant intrigue.
[永精華 – Eiseika – Ever-Blooming Essence]
|D-Rank Bloodline Limit|
This Bloodline Limit generates a unique chakra state that activates in response to attraction toward individuals who are at least twice your age, passively amplifying their positive impressions of and disposition toward you. Furthermore, this chakra induces a state of visual agelessness once the user reaches physical prime. This effect can be shared with others through the occasional absorption of genetic material, reverting those who have passed their prime to a younger appearance. This does not halt aging, only its visual effects.
"…I don't even know how to react to this."
It was… impressive, in a way. A completely unique chakra state? And it almost sounded like some kind of genjutsu.
"No," Yohei muttered, frowning. "Genjutsu messes with someone's perception of reality through interference in their chakra system. This is more like Yin Release – closer to the Yamanaka clan's secret techniques."
He paused, scowling harder.
"Why does it have to be so perverted, though? 'Occasional absorption of genetic material'? Really?"
He scoffed, cheeks heating up as memories of Tsunade rose unbidden to the surface - along with the uncomfortable realization that she would absolutely qualify as a prime example of this Bloodline Limit in action.
He slapped his cheeks, the sting snapping him out of the spiral.
"Focus. What is this actually useful for?" he asked himself seriously.
He reread the description, thinking.
"Charisma, even if limited to a specific demographic – and one that shrinks as I get older – is still incredibly useful. Things are always easier when people like you." He nodded slowly. "Having something that makes the future Hokage more predisposed to treat me favorably would be… helpful."
He crossed his arms, tilting his head.
"And beyond that… money."
His eyes widened slightly.
"I mean, hypothetically, I could make an obscene amount of ryō offering noblewomen in the Capital the chance to regain their youthful appearance – or never visibly age at all." His mouth twisted. "I really don't like the idea of giving anyone my DNA, though. Not with freaks like Orochimaru and Danzō running around."
He sighed.
"But realistically, I can't erase every trace of myself anyway. I'm a ninja. I sweat. I bleed. My hair falls out. I have to cut my nails. I can't sterilize every cup or utensil I touch."
He paused.
"…So it would just be a matter of controlling the source." He snapped his fingers. "Administering the 'medicine' directly. Maybe grind hair into a powder? Or-"
He snorted.
"-literal blood pudding. That'd be hilarious."
His gaze drifted back to the scroll.
"How much money could I even- no. That's a stupid question." He shook his head. "This is youth in a bottle, sold to the one percent who control most of the wealth of an entire country."
He swallowed.
"I could probably afford full chakra-steel body armor. Weapons. Shuriken and kunai made from the stuff."
A beat.
"…For my whole team."
Having convinced himself of its utility despite how weird it was, Yohei activated the seal.
From it appeared another small candy.
He blinked at its appearance, eyes going flat and unimpressed.
He recognized it immediately – which made him suspect that the Chaos Scroll was, at least in part, drawing inspiration from his own memories and subconscious when creating these rewards.
It was a small, porous, marble-like feminine statue.
More specifically, a replica of the Venus of Lespugue, a figure his foreign memories knew intimately from the phase in his youth when he had briefly fashioned himself a Wiccan.
Snorting, he gave it a crooked grin. Reluctantly grateful that it didn't resemble an actual organ this time, he tossed it into his mouth.
It tasted… creamy and smooth, with a warm undertone like caramel or vanilla, but with a sharp kick at the end – something like ginger, or dark chocolate, or pomegranate… maybe all of them at once.
"Huh."
Far too late, he wondered how this one would manifest, considering the previous candies had made his teeth and eyes fall out.
"…Shit."
He barely had time to yank off his dirty clothes and rush toward the bathroom as a static-like itching sensation spread across his entire body. By the time he turned on the shower, he was already scratching himself raw, letting the water wash away flakes of dried skin from his body.
It wasn't enough.
Grabbing a brush, he started scrubbing himself head to toe, feeling like a lizard shedding its skin - or a bird molting its feathers. His hair came out in clumps too, sending a spike of panic through him at the thought of going bald this early in life… only for it to start growing back moments later.
That somehow made the itching worse.
When it finally stopped, he stepped out of the shower feeling like he'd gone through the most aggressive exfoliation of his life. The biological sludge left behind on the floor was… revolting, and he gagged a little at the thought of having to deal with it later.
Wrapping a towel around himself, he stared anxiously at his reflection.
Relief - and a strange hint of disappointment - washed over him when he couldn't pinpoint any obvious changes. He just looked… clean.
And wet.
He blew a raspberry at himself and started drying off as he headed downstairs to grab a trash bag.
As he walked, his thoughts drifted.
From a certain point of view, he was now ageless.
He would still grow old. He would still die. But until his last day in the world of the living, he would look young.
That was…
Well.
Nothing new, honestly.
Tsunade herself did it through a masterful application of her seal, diverting a small trickle of chakra to constantly keep a Transformation Jutsu active, making her look younger.
But that was an active effect, sustained through chakra bullshit warping reality. What he had was a passive effect, sustained through chakra bullshit warping biology.
…
It didn't sound all that impressive when he put it like that, but regardless! That came from a grey scroll – what about a golden one? Would it have outright biological immortality? Was there anything above it?
He wagered yes – this "Eiseika" was described as a D-Rank Bloodline Limit. That meant there were C, B, A, and possibly S-Rank Bloodlines as well. What would that even look like? How could he get those?
This scroll had come in a bundle with three others - was that from three different reward-worthy actions, or a single one that was sufficiently impressive but hadn't crossed some sort of requirement to achieve a higher-level scroll?
As he finished cleaning up and getting dressed in clean clothes, Yohei went back to his room and unlatching the final scroll, hoping for some clue that could help him discover more of the secrets of the Chaos Scroll.
[Moonless]
|C̵͙̙̠͓̟̮̳̥̓̈̐̋̎͊͠ŏ̴̩͕͈̯̭̻̝͓͋m̶̼̂ͅm̵̧̜̼̼͖̱͗̑͌̅̃̐̏͠͝ͅô̶̡̡͚̝̥̦͈̺̓̽͝n̶̡͎̹̗̥̜͈͋ ̸̨̛͎̼̲̱͋̊̇͒̐͝F̷̢͕͕͔̺̞͇̪̦͂͑̑̀̋͒͒͐͘a̴̡̮̤͙̭͖̯͉̐̓̍̀͠͠ͅm̸̥͖͉͔͔͈̒̄̉̽̀̌͠ͅḯ̶͍͓̀l̴̨̗̯̱̭͇̽͒ị̸̒a̷͚͈͌̓͒͊̽͌̐̕͝ŕ̵̨̯̯̤̯͈̝̳̰̾́̄́͗͗͝|
F̴͕̠̹͕̣̅̽̀͒͂e̵̫̯̺̭͎̭͉̽̒͑͊͂a̴͙̳̦̺̼̞̱̋ͅr̴̢̲̠̤̯͇̤̦̘̓̃̑͗͐̋́̓ ̸̮͚̹̣͓̱̙̀̏͒̈́à̴̛̰̫͍͇̄ń̸̙̦̻̣͙̳̖͠d̸̗̦̈́̚ ̶̦̭̦̿̃̄͊̆͒̆͝H̵͔͉̼̫̜͍͓͍̻̎̏͋̀̈ṳ̵͉͚̬̓̎͑̽̊̕n̴͔͗̿̿g̵̤͇͇̓̈́ȇ̵̗͇̣̗̯r̶͓͎̝̳̲̍̈́̋͒̊ – Moonless was once a common cave wolf who was expelled from her pack because of her unnatural strength, and was then transformed by the influence of t̵̡̨̳̪̺̫̰̑ḩ̶̯̜̤̲̥̯̋̌̔̄̇̈̍̈ę̶͓̈́͘ ̴̠̔͛̚g̸̬͕̲̬̗̯̣͒́̾͑̀́͑̀ò̷̻̫̯͉̖͚͉̞d̷̹̤͈͙͚͐̓̍̈̽͋̐̿ ̴̗̹͍͛̍̊o̵̞̅͑̔͋̉͝f̴͎̞̀͗͛̒̑͠ ̸̛̖̪̺̇͐͐͋͆̄ţ̶̖̟̘͎͗̊̃̓ͅh̶̬͔̍͗̀̀̂̀͝ͅe̷̦̠̍̄̀ ̷̧̜͕̳̯̞́́͋̂̒͜͜ͅd̶͕̪̼͍̝͌e̶̫̙̠̲̺͗͗͝p̵̡̜̰͍̜͎̐͒͂̈̄̆̕͜t̶͙̱̟͖̄͘ḫ̸̨̗̀̈́̏͛́̑͘s̶̙̬̃͋̆̒̀̓͝. After decades of brutal survival, this wolf now towers over t̸̨̺̯͈̞͚͓̔̆̎͜a̶̡̙̠̭̭̣̙̜͋ͅn̴̫͎̂̑̈̋k̸̢̻̼͙̟̼͕̫̖̔s̴̡̰͍̘̔͆̌͗͊͌̌ͅͅ, and can swallow a fully grown man in one gulp.
"What the-"
[無月 – Getsuga – Moonless]
|E-Rank Summon Contract|
Getsuga was once a common cave wolf who was expelled from her pack because of her unnatural strength and was then mutated by the overabundance of chakra in her surroundings. After decades of brutal survival, this wolf now towers over carriages, and can swallow a fully grown man in one gulp. Those who seek to form a contract with her are advised to bring offerings of rotten meat, as those are her favorite meal.
"-Fuck?" Yohei exclaimed in slight panic, which calmed down once the contents of the scroll stopped… glitching. "Okay… I'll just pretend that didn't happen," he decided.
Exhaling heavily, he set himself to read the contents of the scroll, his hesitation slowly being replaced by elation as he recognized what he had in his hands.
"A Summon Contract," he said giddily.
Everyone wanted one of those! Everyone!
There wasn't a single kid in the Academy who didn't dream of obtaining one of those. All the boys shared dreams of summoning dragons and mythical beasts in battle; all the girls dreamed of being contracted to clans of cute giant bunnies and regal tigers.
Looking down at the illustration painted on the page, Yohei could barely restrain a manly squeal of joy.
"So cool!" he said giddily, looking at the dark figure of an eldritch-looking, giant, four-eyed wolf with a fanged mouth like a chainsaw. "Oh man, I wanna summon her so bad!"
But he couldn't.
Precisely because everyone wanted one of those, everyone was interested in getting one of those. You couldn't just reveal a summon contract out of nowhere without giving any explanations.
Well - no, that's not the truth. You weren't required to reveal something like that, but people would bother you about it. And there would be a hell of a lot of scrutiny if Yohei, a genin who had never gone beyond the bounds of the village, suddenly appeared with something like that without a very fucking good explanation.
Tsking, he frowned and bit down on his knuckle as he started to consider how he could excuse something like that.
Looking down at the illustration of Mugetsu once again, he tilted his head as an idea came to mind.
"She's… technically a chakra beast, right?"
Usually, those weren't tameable. The nature of their transformation often made them insane to a certain degree, which made every encounter with them a violent one. But it wasn't impossible to find a more rational one – merely rare as all fuck.
Yohei could just say that he found Mugetsu in the wild, tamed her, and made a contract himself. But for that, he'd need to first learn how to make such a contract, if only to serve as a smokescreen for the real one. He'd also need an alibi - a reason for looking into contract-making and then appearing with a summon immediately afterward.
"Hm… what about this: 'I found her in the wild and managed to slowly tame the surprisingly peaceful chakra beast. And only after that did I get interested in making a contract for her.' That makes it doubly necessary for me to get access to the training grounds outside the village," he said, biting his nail before sighing. "And it also adds another subject I need to learn. Fuck."
This also brought another issue to Yohei's mind.
This time it was fine, since Mugetsu could just pass for a chakra beast – but would all future summons be as easy as that? And even if they were, how long could he keep using the excuse that he'd found a peaceful chakra beast before people started asking questions?
Yohei let out a groan. "Whatever. Not like I can do anything about it. I don't even know how to get more summons, so worrying about it now is pointless."
Closing the scroll and placing it alongside the others, he started to consider what that meant for the Chaos Scroll.
Jutsu, Bloodlines, Summons.
Those were the three things he'd gained until now. Were they the only things that could be provided to him, or were there more categories?
Furthermore, were they random, or did he gain specific kinds of rewards for different types of actions?
The only comparison he could properly make was between the jutsu he gained by killing the boar and the jutsu he gained alongside the other rewards when Shirakumo-sensei said they had passed his test-and he certainly hadn't killed the jōnin, not even his clone.
"Maybe it's not killing, per se, but defeating?" he considered. "Do I get another jutsu every time I 'defeat' someone, even if it's not in direct battle?"
That was another thing for him to test, it seemed.
Pursing his lips, he went to his desk and took a small notebook and a pen, then sat back down on the floor and started making notes about everything he had thought about the Chaos Scroll today, finishing with a list of things to do.
=> Test if defeating others gives rewards (bets, challenges, duels, games, tournaments?)
=> If the above proves true, challenge as many individuals as possible.
=> If the above proves possible, attempt to delimit the rules (power or number of individuals?)
=> Get permission to go into the forest.
=> If successful on the above, hunt animals of progressively larger size and power (bunny? bear?)
=> If successful on the above, go on a hunting spree.
Frowning at what he had written, he crossed part of it out and added more notes.
=> Test if defeating others gives rewards (bets, challenges, duels, games, tournaments?)
=> If the above proves true, challenge as many individuals as possible.
=> If the above proves possible, attempt to delimit the rules (power or number of individuals?)
=> Get permission to go into the forest.
=> If successful on the above, hunt animals of progressively larger size and power (bunny? bear?)
=> If successful on the above, go on a hunting spree.
=> If successful on the above, ask more experienced hunters how much he can safely hunt.
=> If successful on obtaining permission, start the plan to 'acquire' Mugetsu.
=> If Mugetsu plan is a go, look for fuinjutsu scrolls.
"Which reminds me…" he muttered.
He added one last line.
=> Study biology and anatomy, create an alibi for the new jutsu, and seek ways to improve them.
"Anything else?" he asked himself, tapping the pen against his lips. "Hm… I still don't know what I did to trigger the other two kinds of rewards. If the jutsu was from defeating sensei, does passing his test count as another? Then again, passing the test might be what gave me the jutsu - saying we defeated him is kind of an overstatement, after all. Hm… maybe one of those was from becoming an actual genin instead of going back to the Academy? It was, after all, something with only a thirty-three percent chance of happening."
"Does that mean that impressive things in general – feats – are what give me those rewards?" he wondered, and something about the idea resonated with him, making him break into a grin. "Oh? That sounds right. In that case…"
He looked back down at his notes and added one last line.
=> Test if defeating others gives rewards (bets, challenges, duels, games, tournaments?)
=> If the above proves true, challenge as many individuals as possible.
=> If the above proves possible, attempt to delimit the rules (power or number of individuals?)
=> Get permission to go into the forest.
=> If successful on the above, hunt animals of progressively larger size and power (bunny? bear?)
=> If successful on the above, go on a hunting spree.
=> If successful on the above, ask more experienced hunters how much he can safely hunt.
=> If successful on obtaining permission, start the plan to 'acquire' Mugetsu.
=> If Mugetsu plan is a go, look for fuinjutsu scrolls.
=> Study biology and anatomy, create an alibi for the new jutsu, and seek ways to improve them.
=> Do awesome shit.
Chuckling, Yohei closed the notebook, tapping it against his forehead as he smiled.
"Today was a good day," he decided. Then, taking a deep breath, he stretched.
"I kind of want to sleep, but…" Shaking his head, he slapped his cheeks again, a determined grin on his face. "Who the fuck needs rest? I have shit to do. Let's put those scrolls away and get the boar meat in the fridge. Fuck, I hope there's enough space for it…"
Picking up the scrolls and jumping to his feet, he luxuriated once more in the feeling of effortlessly moving like a superhuman - he really hadn't given it as much value as he should have originally.
"Then I'll study hard as fuck, then I'll train hard as fuck, then I'll cook some delicious fucking food for Mom because she deserves it and because I stole her things, and then I'll study again!" He pointed a finger up into the air. "And then I'll become the King of Ninjas!" he shouted.
His face turned redder by the second as the silence after his proclamation stretched on, but he kept smiling anyway, before breaking out into laughter.
Once the chuckles faded, his smile softened. He clapped his hands, bowed to no one at all, and let out a quiet prayer.
"God, Deus, Kami, ROB - whoever or whatever gave me this opportunity… my gratitude, from the bottom of my heart. I really, truly love this life of mine."
[Chapter 9 – Perspective of a Mother]
Kuroyama Nanami enjoyed working at the Konoha Hospital.
She enjoyed how peaceful it was compared to the active duty; how much easier on her conscience and heart the work felt; and how much more meaningful it was to save someone or heal their ills instead of just killing, and killing, and stealing, and killing, again, and again.
To be fair, it wasn't anyone's fault but her own that she found herself doing those missions more often than not. She was good at the whole assassination business, and never saw any reason to try something different when that worked just fine for her. It took a long while for her to notice that the weight of the lifes she took, so easily ignored previousy, had grown to the point it suffocated her every breath.
She still found her hands covered in blood at times, but nowadays it came off easily – just a matter of removing her gloves and washing up.
Despite how much she had been praised for her work before joining the medical division, it was only there that she found a job that truly fit her.
That wasn't to say she planned to stay at the Hospital any longer than she had to, however. As much as she loved her work, Nanami was a lazy person at heart, and she loved her home and her family far more.
Which was why she was so grateful for this time of year.
When the newest batch of Academy students graduated and the jōnin were called back to the village in droves to test them, the number of dangerous missions the village accepted dropped sharply. It was an intentional lull – meant to avoid sending genin and underprepared chūnin on missions beyond their ability while reinforcements were scarce.
And because the idiots most likely to get hurt and need dedicated medical attention were all busy babysitting snot-nosed kids, the hospital staff had a brief period of peace. For those precious few days – and, to a lesser extent, the following weeks – the worst they had to deal with were injured civilians, who were far easier to treat.
So, as soon as her shift ended and she confirmed there were no remaining cases requiring her attention, Nanami headed to the doctors' restroom and indulged in one of her favorite activities.
A long, steamy bath after a long day of work.
There was something deeply satisfying about feeling the little aches she'd accumulated throughout the day fade as her blood cooled and the hot water loosened muscles she hadn't even realized were tense. It never failed to leave her smiling.
Stepping out of the bathroom with towels wrapped around her body, she was only mildly surprised when she felt the weight of someone jumping onto her back – arms locking around her neck and legs circling her waist.
"Nana-chaaan~ Already going back home?"
Unbidden, a smile came to her lips at the infectious cheer in the girl's voice – well, woman, really. They were the same age, for Kami's sake.
Izuno Sana. Nanami's oldest friend, and the one who had convinced her to try becoming a doctor in the first place. The two of them had trained together, passed every test together, and worked side by side ever since.
Nanami often felt she could never repay her for that push – especially since it was because of it that she had ended up meeting her husband.
"Sana-chan," Nanami called back warmly, matching her cheer, "if you don't let me go, I'll slip a poison into your bento that'll leave you with explosive diarrhea for a whole week."
"Gah!" Sana yelped as she immediately let go, hopping back and crouching on the floor with a hiss. "How could you say that, Nana-chan!? Your food is sacred!"
"And my body is a temple," Nanami replied in a lecturing tone as she began dressing herself. "Touch it without permission and the gods will revoke their blessings and turn them into curses."
"Damn, that was smooth," Sana muttered as she straightened up, feline eyes roaming shamelessly over her friend's body. "But what's the hurry? You usually take, like, three times as long in the shower." She pinched her chin and tilted her head, then blinked as a smirk spread across her face and she punched her palm. "Oh! Yo-kun must be home already, right? You said his sensei started his team's test yesterday. Man, what a hard-ass. You think he passed?"
Nanami hesitated for just a moment, hands clenching as she pulled down her blouse. She sniffed once, lifting her chin.
"He will if the jōnin has any sense. My Yo-kun is the best."
"Hahaha! I expected nothing less from Mama-Bear Nana-chan!" Sana laughed, then softened, offering her friend an encouraging smile after noticing the brief hesitation. "Don't worry, Nana. Yo-kun's a strong boy. I'm sure he did well."
'Not as strong as he could have been,' Nanami corrected silently, guilt and self-loathing bubbling uncomfortably in her chest.
Catching the shift in Nanami's expression, Sana pursed her lips – then her eyes widened, and a teasing grin crept across her face.
"Neh, Nana-chan. Now that Yo-kun is a ninja…" she trailed off, prompting Nanami to look up at her in confusion. "Hehe. He's considered an adult now, right?" Sana asked slyly, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily as she gazed off into the distance. "Ah~ I still remember when Yo-kun was such a cute little thing. He'd cling to me every time I visited and go, 'Nee-chan~ Nee-chan~ will you marry me when I grow up~?' I wonder if I should accept his propo-"
"Oi."
A cold shiver ran down Sana's spine as she felt the sharp tip of a senbon press lightly against the skin of her throat.
She opened her eyes to one of the most terrifying sights she had ever witnessed – Nanami standing close enough that she could feel her breath, her face utterly expressionless, her eyes a swirling, empty void.
"Are you tired of living?"
Sana swallowed hard, slit pupils shrinking to pinpricks as she forced out a strained laugh. "E-ehhh~ It's been a while since I've seen Nana-chan like this. Kinda nostalgic, you know?"
Nanami blinked.
In the next instant, her expression softened back to normal – and the senbon vanished.
Nanami shot Sana a reproaching look and pouted. "Mou, Sana-chan, don't joke like that. Yo-kun will find a nice girl his own age, and they'll date and fall in pure love, then marry and give me plenty of grandchildren to spoil. I won't let any wrinkled hag get her hands on him."
Sana sweat-dropped, though she was still smiling. "That's… kind of hurtful, you know."
Nanami only pouted harder, her frown so exaggerated it made Sana giggle.
"Man," Sana said, shaking her head, "I still can't believe you turned out like this. None of our classmates would recognize you as the same person they used to call Ice-Queen Nanami."
Nanami gave her a flat stare before turning away to pack up her things. "That nickname was stupid. I don't even like the cold. Besides," she added dryly, "it's hard for them to recognize me when most of them are dead already."
Sana barked out a startled laugh. "Why is it that the one thing you decided to keep was your awful dark humor?"
"Because Tatsuo liked my jokes," Nanami replied softly, a small smile touching her lips.
"Of course he did," Sana said with a wry smile of her own. "He was weird, just like you."
Nanami huffed good-naturedly and slung her bag over her shoulder.
"See you tomorrow, Sana-chan," she said as she headed for the door.
Before she could leave-
"Hey."
Nanami paused, hand resting on the doorframe, and looked back.
"Buy something sweet on your way home, for Yo-kun," Sana said. "Whether he passed or failed, sweets are perfect – for celebrating or for comfort." She paused, then added, "Just don't buy cake. Or anything with chocolate. Chocolate when you're sad is just depressing."
Nanami was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded, turning back with a grateful smile before walking away.
-~=~-
Somehow, despite how light it actually was – especially for a ninja – the paper bag filled with manju felt as if it weighed a ton in Nanami's hands.
Eager for a distraction, she let her attention drift to the street as she made her way home.
The sun was nearly set now, bathing the village in an amber hush. Light poured low and slanted between the houses, catching on tiled roofs and wooden beams, turning them briefly to gold before slipping away. Shadows stretched long across the packed-earth road, overlapping like inked brushstrokes, their edges softened by dust hanging warm in the air.
The homes of the residential district stood tall and welcoming, sliding doors half-open and exhaling quiet life – low voices, the clink of dishes, the faint scent of rice and simmering broth. Paper lanterns, still favored by many despite the practicality of electric lamps, began to glow beneath the eaves, their red and cream skins warming as flames were coaxed to life.
Gardens flanked the road in gentle order: vegetables heavy with growth, flowers leaning over fences as if curious about passersby.
A cat perched atop a low wall, tail flicking lazily, eyes narrowed against the sun's final glare.
Somewhere nearby, a child laughed – bright and fleeting – followed by a mother's call that carried the warmth of routine rather than any real urgency.
It was funny, Nanami thought, that she had resisted coming here when her husband first suggested it.
She had liked her old apartment. She really had.
It was small, quiet, and peaceful – tucked away on a street mostly lined with buildings just like it, built as cheap housing for shinobi. The only neighbors you found there were fresh genin, orphans one and all, trying to build their first real home, and older, more experienced ninja who were married to their work and only used their apartments as places to store their belongings and recover between missions.
The first group was too busy running constant D- and E-Rank missions to bother her.
The latter were the kind of people who viewed social interaction as an unfortunate side effect of being alive.
The east side of Konoha was none of that.
It was where every civilian family and wannabe clan wanted to live, because it was where most of the actual clan compounds were found. People wanted to be close to ninja—to admire them, to feel protected by them, to feel elevated by proximity, to catch their attention and maybe, just maybe, become part of their world.
Rent was high.
Real estate prices were obscene.
The neighbors were wealthy merchants, business owners, and renowned craftsmen - people who lived on networking and socializing.
The streets were too clean, too bright, and too loud for her taste.
… And the houses were too big. She had never known what she was supposed to do with all that space.
But then she had gotten pregnant, and Tatsuo had convinced her to move.
She couldn't say she ever truly regretted it.
By then, she was already a medic-nin, and the stipend paid for their "mission" of working at the hospital was more than enough for her to afford the place on her own – even if her husband hadn't come from a family on the wealthier side of things.
The abundance of families had been a nuisance at first, but… the people were nice. Genuinely nice. The older women offered advice she desperately needed during her pregnancy, and later during those first exhausting months of motherhood, before-
Before the fox came and destroyed everything she loved.
A gust of wind brushed past her, carrying the floral scent of the Yamanaka gardens, and the motion tugged at the paper bag of sweets in her grasp.
'Almost everything.'
After that, those same merchants and craftsmen she had once disliked came forward, offering materials to rebuild her destroyed house at almost insultingly low prices. They were the ones who helped her husband rebuild it with his own hands – while he still had the strength to move the way he used to.
Their children became her son's friends. Their constant invitations to small neighborhood gatherings and seasonal festivals made sure she didn't retreat back into herself in a way that would have been harmful to the precious life she had been left to raise.
If she was a functional person today, it was because of them.
Of course, she still had her friends from work, but-
Nanami snorted quietly.
'No ninja is well adjusted.'
A voice pulled her out of her musings and back into the real world.
"Ara, Nanami-chan, coming back from work already?" asked the warm voice of the elderly woman in front of her, making Nanami smile on reflex.
Takahashi Misaki – one of the neighbors she had just been thinking about, and one of the kindest people Nanami had ever met. She was sitting on a chair by the front of her house, watching the sunset, with Shiro-kun – her old shiba inu – resting at her feet. His tail wagged lazily when he spotted Nanami.
"Misaki-baa-chan," Nanami greeted, her voice warm and carefully cheerful. "Things were slow today."
"Ahh… it's that time of the year again," the old woman said wisely, nodding. Then her eyes widened as if she'd just remembered something, bright green irises gleaming as she leaned forward with an eager smile that revealed more than a few missing teeth.
"Ne, ne, Nanami-chan. Yo-kun graduated this year, right? You must be so proud! I saw him running home today – his clothes were all dirty," she said with a chuckle. "Poor boy, his sensei must be working him ragged."
Nanami's heart skipped a beat.
"Say, baa-chan… did he look happy?" she asked quietly.
"Eh?" Misaki blinked, confused.
"Or sad," Nanami continued, words tumbling out now. "Or nervous, or – I don't know, baa-chan. What did he look like?" Her fingers twisted together unconsciously as she spoke.
Misaki noticed the gesture and gave her a worried look.
"I couldn't really tell, Nanami-chan," she admitted apologetically. "He was running, and my eyes aren't what they used to be." Then she smiled, gentle and reassuring. "But don't worry. Yo-kun is a strong boy."
Nanami resisted the urge to scream.
"Yeah… he is," she said instead, smiling as she bowed and said her goodbyes before resuming her walk home.
'Yo-kun is a strong boy.'
'Yo-kun is a strong boy.'
'I know that! I know he's strong – I raised him!' she screamed inside her own head.
And yet…
'Yet not strong enough. Not as strong as he could have been, if I had been a better mother.'
The thought made her blood burn in her veins.
Yang affinity.
A rare thing. A precious thing.
Those born with it were, as she had explained to Yohei, naturally inclined toward medical ninjutsu. But there was another aspect to it – one just as important.
Their bodies.
Individuals with a Yang affinity were naturally hardier, stronger than others, and possessed a far greater ease in increasing that strength over time.
The Akimichi were glaring proof of it – babysitting clan infants was a common E-Rank mission, because careless civilians could end up with broken bones if they weren't careful. Lady Tsunade herself had been born with an immense affinity for Yang chakra, and even before developing her signature techniques, she had already been feared for her monstrous physical strength.
Yohei was strong – but not that strong.
That was why discovering her son's Yang affinity had caught Nanami so completely off guard.
Had she learned of it any other way, she could have made excuses. Told herself there were no reliable methods to identify such an affinity, that he had never shown any signs before, that there was no way she could have known.
But no.
'He created a jutsu. Completely by himself. Fresh out of the Academy – just by taking inspiration from a classmate's technique and a barebones explanation of how Yang Release worked.'
That wasn't normal. Not in any way.
If copying Hidden Techniques - even in a lesser, incomplete form - were that easy, they wouldn't be nearly as precious as they were.
Which could only mean one thing.
'Yohei's potential with Yang Release is immense.'
And that – combined with the fact that he hadn't shown signs of it before – could only mean one thing as well.
'I failed.'
Nanami repeated the thought she'd been circling since that morning.
'Yohei should be much stronger than he is now. And if he isn't, it's because I didn't train him hard enough. Didn't push him enough. Didn't prepare him the way I should have.'
And she knew exactly why she hadn't.
Why she had left his development to the Academy, despite knowing full well that the institution existed to raise the lower denominator to adequacy – not to hone talent to its sharpest edge.
'I didn't want him to be strong.'
The truth of it hit her like a curse.
Because if she was honest with herself – truly honest – she hadn't wanted her son to be a ninja at all.
She hadn't wanted him to walk the same path she had. To wade through blood and lies, again and again, until one day he became the blood in someone else's hands – or returned with his body broken, his mind scarred beyond repair.
She wanted him to live peacefully. A civilian's life.
She wanted him to find a nice girl. To get a stable job. To grow old safely behind the village walls – without duty tearing him away from his family, without being sent to face some monstrous thing that would leave him dying slowly and painfully. Eroding in a hospital bed while his wife cried helplessly at the thought of being alone again, while his son watched his father waste away into something emaciated and unrecognizable.
Nanami took a deep, trembling breath, forcing back the tears threatening to spill.
'But that's just me doing what I always do – avoiding the problem.'
Because she knew, intimately, the truth behind the delusion she had clung to.
Danger wouldn't stay away from you just because you were weak.
More civilians had died in the rampage of the damned fox than ninja did.
The right thing to do would have been to help him become as strong as possible – and then leave it to him to decide whether he wanted to be a shinobi or not, rather than stifling him like that while lying to herself that it was for the best.
Unbidden, as she reached the doorstep of her home, the words he had told her just a few days ago came back to her.
You're the best mom in the world.
Nanami's hands began to shake. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against the door as she drew in shallow, trembling breaths.
"I'm sorry, Yo-kun," she whispered. "Your mama is the worst."
After a few moments, she forced herself to recompose. She wiped her eyes and circulated chakra through her body, using a trick developed – and quietly shared – among the women of the hospital. The tension melted away, leaving her looking perfectly composed, as if the exhaustion and emotional collapse had never happened.
"I'm back!" she called out as she stepped inside.
At the genkan, she spotted Yohei's shoes neatly set aside, their soles caked with dried dirt and mud. She made a mental note to clean them later.
"Welcome back!" Yohei's voice came from deeper inside the house.
Slipping out of her own shoes, she padded inside barefoot – only to blink as a strong, unfamiliar scent hit her.
'Pork kimchi?'
She frowned slightly. 'I don't remember buying pork…'
When she stepped into the living room, she was met with an unexpected sight.
Yohei sat on the floor in front of the table. One of the books she had given him lay open beside a notebook, his pen moving quickly across the page as he wrote with intense focus.
Her heart sank.
Yohei… studying?
It wasn't that he never studied. If an exam was coming, he prepared. If he struggled with a subject or grew curious, he put in the effort. But studying like this – unprompted, without pressure or necessity – wasn't like him at all.
'Did he fail?' the thought struck her like a blade. 'Is he studying now because he thinks the hospital is his only chance to stay a ninja?'
She didn't let any of it show. Carefully, she smoothed her expression into neutrality – though there was a sharp intensity beneath it – as she approached and knelt beside him.
Yohei paused mid-sentence, turning toward her with a bright smile.
Then he stopped.
Confusion crossed his face as he took in her expression.
"So?" she asked.
Did you pass?
How are you feeling?
Did you get hurt?
You don't need to give up.
You can do anything.
It's my fault.
I'm so sorry.
He seemed to misunderstand the question.
Yohei winced, the expression clenching her heart like a vise, before letting out an awkward laugh. He sighed, then turned fully toward her and bowed his head.
"I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't have taken your things without permission. I know they're expensive-and dangerous to handle without training. But I didn't use everything I took, and I promise I'll pay you-"
Nanami's right eye twitched.
She grabbed his lowered face by the cheeks and lifted his head, forcing him to look her in the eyes – eyes so painfully like her own.
"Yohei, that's not important," she said sharply. "You could've thrown it all in the trash for all I care."
And it was true.
She wasn't an active combatant anymore. She never planned to be again. There was no real reason for her to keep an armory like that – she did it out of habit, and… perhaps as a way to honor the woman she used to be.
But if throwing it all away helped Yohei even a little, she wouldn't spare it a single thought.
"I just want to know-"
If you're okay.
If you need to cry.
If I messed everything up.
If I disappointed my husband.
"-if you passed."
He blinked.
Then he smiled, cheeks still squished between her hands, and suddenly all the exhaustion, all the guilt, the sorrow, the self-loathing that had been weighing her down simply… vanished.
"Team 5 is here to stay," he said, raising both hands in peace signs.
For one brief, terrible moment, a seed of sorrow and despair bloomed in her chest.
She crushed it with more viciousness than she had ever crushed any of her marks, and reminded herself of the truth she had tried – and failed – to live by.
'A parent's duty is to support their child.'
She lunged forward, pulling him into a tight hug. A sound halfway between a laugh and a kettle-whistle burst from her as she rose effortlessly to her feet, spinning them both around while he laughed and she cheered, hiding her relieved tears in his hair.
"I knew you'd pass," she told him with a confident smile – despite knowing it wasn't true.
He gave her a skeptical, amused look, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Really?"
She gasped theatrically, hands flying to her chest. "Have I ever doubted you, Yo-kun?"
He chuckled. "No. Never."
She nodded smugly, clearly pleased with herself. "And I never will. You know why?"
He shook his head.
She smiled brightly and cupped his cheek. "Because you're amazing, Yohei. You can do anything."
He blushed adorably, and she had to physically restrain herself from squealing and pinching his cheeks.
"I even bought you these," she said, shaking the paper bag in front of his face. "To commemorate!"
Then she blinked.
"Shouldn't you be resting, though? Why are you studying right now?" she asked, eyes drifting to the books spread over the table.
He gave her a dry look. "Weren't you the one who bought those for me and told me to study them?"
She returned the look just as flat, which only made him laugh awkwardly. It wasn't the first time she'd told him to study something – and he was usually perfectly content to leave it until the last possible minute.
"Alright," he conceded, an eager grin spreading across his face. "The truth is, the test gave me some ideas for new jutsu. But I think it'd be better to actually know what I'm doing before I try to make them. Do you think you could help me?"
He hadn't even finished speaking before she was already nodding just as enthusiastically.
"Of course! Just tell me what you need, baby, and I'll make sure you know everything you want to know."
"Nice," he said happily. "We'll do that after dinner, then. I was waiting for you so we could eat together."
"Right!" she said, realization hitting her as she remembered the smell. "Did you buy pork on your way home? You should've told me if you were feeling up for it, Yo-kun." She pouted.
He chuckled sheepishly. "Something like that. On a totally unrelated note, I don't think you'll need to buy meat for the next month, Mom."
She gave him a long look, one eyebrow rising slowly.
He snickered, taking her by the arm, and she let herself be pulled toward the kitchen.
"Alright," she said, amused. "Tell me everything."