"Wait— even Asuma-sensei doesn't know him?"
Itsuki looked surprised. "Does that mean our teacher's some no-name ninja?"
He sounded disappointed.
After all, he was sure that Kimoto Tōichi was powerful — someone that strong had to be famous.
Asuma immediately noticed the boy's crestfallen look and smiled reassuringly.
"Not necessarily. As far as I know, all the instructors leading new genin teams are at least jōnin-level. I just don't happen to know every ninja in Konoha."
Itsuki brightened at that. "Oh! That makes sense."
Despite the fear he'd felt during their "test," the thought that his teacher might be a powerful jōnin filled him with pride.
To Itsuki, being trained by someone strong was the fastest way to become strong himself.
Shikamaru leaned forward, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"So… what did you mean earlier when you said your test almost killed you?"
Even he found it hard to believe a graduation test could be that brutal.
Asuma also looked up from his seat, his expression serious.
He didn't approve of instructors using excessive methods — even Kakashi, with his eccentric style, never put his students in actual danger.
If this Kimoto Tōichi had crossed that line, it was a serious matter.
Itsuki scratched his cheek nervously.
"Uh… well, it wasn't a normal test. He, uh, used some kind of jutsu that attacked our minds. I thought I was going insane. If it weren't for Arata, Tanako and I probably wouldn't have made it."
Arata, who had been calmly chewing a piece of barbecue, froze mid-bite when he suddenly felt everyone staring at him.
He blinked. "...What?"
He honestly hadn't been listening.
At the moment, grilled meat was far more interesting than any conversation.
After twelve years in this world, he didn't have many friends — food had become one of his few reliable joys.
Everyone's attention, however, was fixed squarely on him now.
Asuma furrowed his brow slightly.
He remembered Arata's academy file — nothing special, average grades, no standout ability.
So why was this student suddenly being described like some sort of prodigy?
He looked to Itsuki.
"What exactly did you experience during this 'test'?"
Itsuki thought for a moment. "It was… awful. Like standing in the middle of a battlefield — corpses everywhere, blood everywhere. I could feel myself being stabbed, over and over again. It felt real. Like dying a hundred times."
Tanako shuddered beside him, her hands tightening in her lap. The memory clearly haunted her.
Asuma exhaled slowly, the image in his mind clicking into place.
So that's it… an illusion-based killing field. No wonder they broke down.
He took a drag of his cigarette, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Now I understand. No wonder I haven't heard of your teacher's name."
He looked at the others. "He's probably a former member of the Anbu."
That caught everyone's attention.
"Anbu?" they repeated almost in unison.
Asuma nodded.
"Mm. The Anbu — Konoha's covert operations unit. They protect the village from the shadows. Every member is a highly skilled shinobi. They deal with missions no one else can."
Even Shikamaru and Ino seemed intrigued.
Though they came from noble clans, neither of them had ever heard details about that division — the Anbu were always shrouded in secrecy.
Shikamaru's gaze drifted toward Arata.
So he really stood up to a former Anbu jōnin's killing intent… and didn't flinch? Interesting.
Asuma had the same thought.
He glanced at Arata again — the boy still eating calmly as if none of this concerned him.
But Asuma knew better.
If Tōichi really was ex-Anbu, his killing aura could crush even experienced chūnin.
For a fresh graduate to withstand that — and walk away unaffected — that wasn't normal.
Who exactly is this kid?
Meanwhile, Itsuki was still buzzing with admiration.
"Whoa… Anbu! So our teacher really is super strong!"
He pumped his fist, eyes shining. "I knew it! No wonder he was so scary!"
Shikamaru chuckled dryly. "You've got guts, I'll give you that."
Asuma, however, didn't laugh. He simply nodded to himself, filing the name Kimoto Tōichi away in his mind.
I'll talk to Kakashi about this later. If that kid really endured an Anbu's genjutsu head-on, something's off.
There were too many questions.
Arata's records said he was painfully average — but what if that was a façade?
Arata, of course, noticed none of this.
He was too busy enjoying the last few slices of meat.
When the meal finally ended, the mood had lightened again.
Team Eleven and Team Ten parted ways, a little closer than before.
As they walked through the quiet streets, Itsuki suddenly said,
"Arata, my house is in the other direction. You should walk Tanako home, yeah?"
Before Arata could respond, Itsuki had already bolted down a side street — leaving them both standing awkwardly under the lantern-lit road.
Arata sighed. "What's with that guy?"
Tanako's face was bright red. She lowered her gaze, toes nudging the dirt nervously.
Arata chuckled softly. "Alright, I'll walk you back."
She nodded shyly. "...Okay."
The two walked side by side through Konoha's evening streets. Warm lamplight spilled across the road as shopkeepers closed their stalls and laughter echoed in the distance.
From a distance, they looked like a perfect pair — a handsome young man and a graceful girl with golden hair.
Several passersby even turned their heads, whispering and smiling knowingly.
Arata ignored them, though he couldn't help noticing the blush deepening on Tanako's cheeks.
In a village where children grew up fast and romance bloomed early, it wasn't unusual for people their age to fall in love.
But Arata's mind was different.
He looked at her — this polite, kind, flustered girl — and thought not of love, but of how young she still was.
She's a good kid, he thought gently. If I ever had a little sister, I'd want her to be like this.
Still, when she smiled at him under the lantern light, even Arata had to admit — she was beautiful.