- Location
- Tunisia
Chakra enhanced herb.
Need I say more?
Naruto: The Outsider's Resolve
Need I say more?
I can't believe that weed is illegal in ninja world. that's such a weird thing to make illegal with how many other poisons that can be brought, diluted and used by shinobi to give themself a trip.
Unless it isn't weed.
Unless it isn't weed.
CH_3.25 (084)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
Takuma couldn't move his eyes away from the zip-lock bag filled with a dried-up herb that looked strikingly identical to what he had seen before. And from what he knew, it was very much illegal in the Hidden Leaf. He was coming to realize what job Enomoto was planning to offer him.
"How kid is the kid again?" Ryuu asked Enomoto.
"Young," replied Enomoto.
"Wouldn't he then not know what the product is? That would be a problem."
"That... is a possibility," Enomoto said, turning to Takuma. "Do you know what this is, Tobi?"
"...Yes, I know," Takuma said - and simultaneously, he didn't know what they called it here.
Ryuu didn't hide his skepticism and distrust as he leaned forward. He took a fat joint from his person and placed it on the table before Takuma. "Then you wouldn't mind sharing one with me, would you?" he said with an open flame burning from a zippo lighter.
Takuma didn't like that look on Ryuu's face and picked up the joint. He lit it up, lifted the mask halfway, and took a hit before passing it back to Ryuu. The old man took a hit as he kept an eye on Takuma. The joint went to Enomoto, who then passed it to Takuma, who took another hit. When the joint came back around, Takuma refused it.
"That's enough for now," said Takuma. He didn't know how this body would react to the weed. Back when he was in college, it had taken him three "sessions" before he had gotten his first high, and right now, in the company of two people he didn't trust much, Takuma didn't want a bad trip. Two hits were enough.
"Well, look at that," Ryuu grinned, "the kid does know some stuff."
Enomoto stared at Takuma in bafflement. "Kids these days are crazy," he said. "As a medical professional, I recommend using chakra to protect your lungs while smoking. It's a practice that every shinobi should follow."
Takuma had to agree with him. A twelve-year-old smoking without coughing his lungs out could be a jarring sight.
Ryuu scoffed as he took another deep hit. "So, you're a Ring fighter, eh?" he said, exhaling a large puff of smoke.
Takuma narrowed his eyes behind his mask and turned to glare at Enomoto. There was a reason why he had only agreed to come here with a mask and had given a fake name. He didn't want to give out who he was, and if Ryuu already knew that he was a Ring fighter, then he didn't know if he could work with Enomoto.
"I don't know what he's talking about," said Enomoto, raising his hands.
Ryuu lifted his chin and scratched underneath. "A ski mask beneath the hard mask - that's a Ring thing if I have seen one, kid," he said with a laugh. "And if you want to hide the fact still, don't glare at him," he pointed at Enomoto - "it only confirms that I was right."
Takuma bit the inside of his cheek and felt the cloth mask on his skin, which he had gotten so used to wearing for the last several months that he didn't even notice he was wearing one. He hadn't considered that a habit would give him away, but that was what usually gave people away—fucking habits! Takuma took a silent breath to calm himself down. He knew he couldn't do anything to dissuade Ryuu, so he stayed silent. He just didn't want to give away anything else about himself.
"Listen, I'd prefer to know who you are, but since he vouched for you, I'll do business with someone who doesn't show me his face," Ryuu pointed to Enomoto. "As long as you pay up and don't jeopardize me and my business, we don't have any problems."
Takuma wanted to earn money, so he had no reason to rat out Ryuu. Plus, Enomoto knew too much about him, so if he tried to screw something up, the chances of getting some serious pushback were really high. But he had to ask,
"Why does him vouching for me work for you?" Takuma pointed to Enomoto. He needed to know how the relationships worked in this equation to understand the dynamics of it all.
Ryuu looked at Enomoto with a half-amused smile, who nodded. Then, Ryuu said, "Well, he sells me the product, so his word does mean something to me. Also, my business going well means his business is going well."
Takuma looked at Enomoto, and he just couldn't figure Shady Guy out. He was a chunin—an important iryo-nin at that. On top of that, he was a supplier of iryo-nin for the Ring (his apprentices) and a recruiter for the Ring. Now, he was supposedly a drug lord. At this point, if Enomoto told him that he was the Third Hokage's illegitimate son, Takuma would consider it.
"Then why can't you sell directly to me?" Takuma asked Enomoto. There was already an established relationship between him and Enomoto—he didn't get why they had to introduce Ryuu and bring in an unnecessary middle-man.
"Well… first, you'll need a lot of money if you want to buy from me because I only sell wholesale, so to speak," Enomoto smiled. "Second, my clients need to have an established infrastructure to move the amount of product that I sell to them. Third, I simply don't like to deal with ground-level sellers—let's just say distance is good for me.... And, unfortunately for both of us, Tobi, you don't meet any of those three points."
Takuma glanced at both of the adults in front of him and remained silent for a moment before asking, "And from the job, I'm assuming you want me to be a street dealer."
"Good, you're quick to pick things up," Ryuu said as he was getting bored and impatient with the conversation. "If you have the capital, I will sell you the product. Just a warning, I don't sell on credit. If you want to buy, it'll be only when payment is settled upfront."
Takuma was coming to understand the structure. Following Enomoto's analogy— Enomoto was the wholesaler who supplied the weed, Ryuu was a retailer one step down the ladder, and he himself was going to be the street vendor actually selling the product. Takuma didn't know if there was someone above Enomoto— only that he himself would be at the bottom of the ladder.
Takuma stared at the ziplock bag of weed, and as far as what he was going to be doing to earn money, he didn't mind selling weed. As a college student, he had smoked weed many times; while not as extensive as some because of money issues, he was a fairly regular user. It hadn't been legal where he lived, but he knew cannabis was a great recreational drug. He didn't have any qualms about selling weed to people. It checked out with the Good YouTuber Philosophy— only endorse/sell things you yourself use.
However, there were some problems that he needed to consider. He didn't know the street rates. If he was going to do this business, then he needed to know the cost price and the selling price— and if those rates were far enough apart for him to make enough profit to cover his current expenses and were worth enough for the time and labor he needed to put in to make the entire thing work.
So, he straight up asked them about the rates.
Ryuu quoted a rate— and was immediately rebuked by Enomoto.
"Don't try to screw the kid over," he said.
Ryuu clicked his tongue and gave him the rates again, and this time, the cost price was lower. Takuma made a note of that behavior before he began calculating what and how much sales he needed to make it worth his while… and after some while, he concluded that this could work. It would be rough on his savings to get that first supply, but he wasn't a stranger to tough times, and if this could improve his monetary situation, he could tighten the string on his purse.
He knew accepting this offer would bring changes to his life, and it needed commitment if he wanted to make this work.
"Alright, let's do this," said Takuma with determination in his eyes.
Ryuu grinned, "Happy doing business with you."
———
.
Takuma's life had never been busier. A combination of Ring fights, missions, training, and selling weed had cut down his sleeping hours to five hours in total. If only he had a way to get some of that bullshit' passive income.'
He had to confess: on the first day, he wasn't sure what to do with the stash of weed he had in his house because he had no customers. The first thing he had done was to decide where to keep his stash; while the quantity was low, he kept it hidden in his home but decided to find a better place away from his place in case the business grew.
On the other hand, as it turned out, selling was easy when there was substantial demand, a lack of intense competition, and a market where customers didn't do intense research and price comparison.
"Shen, my man, how are you doing today?" Takuma dapped up a young adult who was one of his customers. He thought that if he were friendly with his customers and made them feel comfortable, they would be more open to approaching him more often.
"Hey, Jin," said Shen, looking around a street with a public park on one side and a street full of restaurants on the other side.
'Jin' was one of the identities that Takuma had created to interact with his customers. Takuma wasn't a weed dealer, but his other identities were. His civilian customers weren't able to tell that he was using Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu), and his shinobi customers who could tell weren't able to tell what was behind the disguise—only that he was disguised, which worked for both parties.
"Don't be like that; look at me," Takuma gripped Shen's hand, stopping the young man from letting his nervous eyes wander around. As long as they acted like two friends who met on the street, no one was going to look at them. "So, how much do you want today?"
"…The same as last time," said Shen.
"Excellent, we can make that happen."
"Can I also get some rolling paper and filters as well?"
"Of course, we can do that as well," Takuma smiled. He had brought a lot of rolling paper and joint filters in bulk so he could sell the 'accessories' as well. If the customers could get everything required directly from him and simplify the purchasing process, they would keep coming back to him. "You know the deal, payment first." But, simultaneously, he had to set boundaries and be strict when it came to dealing. A balance was necessary for good business.
Shen took out a few bills of cash and handed them to Takuma.
"Nice doing business with you, Shen," Takuma (Jin) smiled after he counted the money with a glance. "You know where to find me the next time."
Takuma turned back and walked away. Behind him, Shen patted his satchel bag, looked inside, and found that the weed, rolling paper, and filters were already in his bag. Being a shinobi with great sleight-of-hand skills was a great skill for dealing illegal stuff.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
"How kid is the kid again?" Ryuu asked Enomoto.
"Young," replied Enomoto.
"Wouldn't he then not know what the product is? That would be a problem."
"That... is a possibility," Enomoto said, turning to Takuma. "Do you know what this is, Tobi?"
"...Yes, I know," Takuma said - and simultaneously, he didn't know what they called it here.
Ryuu didn't hide his skepticism and distrust as he leaned forward. He took a fat joint from his person and placed it on the table before Takuma. "Then you wouldn't mind sharing one with me, would you?" he said with an open flame burning from a zippo lighter.
Takuma didn't like that look on Ryuu's face and picked up the joint. He lit it up, lifted the mask halfway, and took a hit before passing it back to Ryuu. The old man took a hit as he kept an eye on Takuma. The joint went to Enomoto, who then passed it to Takuma, who took another hit. When the joint came back around, Takuma refused it.
"That's enough for now," said Takuma. He didn't know how this body would react to the weed. Back when he was in college, it had taken him three "sessions" before he had gotten his first high, and right now, in the company of two people he didn't trust much, Takuma didn't want a bad trip. Two hits were enough.
"Well, look at that," Ryuu grinned, "the kid does know some stuff."
Enomoto stared at Takuma in bafflement. "Kids these days are crazy," he said. "As a medical professional, I recommend using chakra to protect your lungs while smoking. It's a practice that every shinobi should follow."
Takuma had to agree with him. A twelve-year-old smoking without coughing his lungs out could be a jarring sight.
Ryuu scoffed as he took another deep hit. "So, you're a Ring fighter, eh?" he said, exhaling a large puff of smoke.
Takuma narrowed his eyes behind his mask and turned to glare at Enomoto. There was a reason why he had only agreed to come here with a mask and had given a fake name. He didn't want to give out who he was, and if Ryuu already knew that he was a Ring fighter, then he didn't know if he could work with Enomoto.
"I don't know what he's talking about," said Enomoto, raising his hands.
Ryuu lifted his chin and scratched underneath. "A ski mask beneath the hard mask - that's a Ring thing if I have seen one, kid," he said with a laugh. "And if you want to hide the fact still, don't glare at him," he pointed at Enomoto - "it only confirms that I was right."
Takuma bit the inside of his cheek and felt the cloth mask on his skin, which he had gotten so used to wearing for the last several months that he didn't even notice he was wearing one. He hadn't considered that a habit would give him away, but that was what usually gave people away—fucking habits! Takuma took a silent breath to calm himself down. He knew he couldn't do anything to dissuade Ryuu, so he stayed silent. He just didn't want to give away anything else about himself.
"Listen, I'd prefer to know who you are, but since he vouched for you, I'll do business with someone who doesn't show me his face," Ryuu pointed to Enomoto. "As long as you pay up and don't jeopardize me and my business, we don't have any problems."
Takuma wanted to earn money, so he had no reason to rat out Ryuu. Plus, Enomoto knew too much about him, so if he tried to screw something up, the chances of getting some serious pushback were really high. But he had to ask,
"Why does him vouching for me work for you?" Takuma pointed to Enomoto. He needed to know how the relationships worked in this equation to understand the dynamics of it all.
Ryuu looked at Enomoto with a half-amused smile, who nodded. Then, Ryuu said, "Well, he sells me the product, so his word does mean something to me. Also, my business going well means his business is going well."
Takuma looked at Enomoto, and he just couldn't figure Shady Guy out. He was a chunin—an important iryo-nin at that. On top of that, he was a supplier of iryo-nin for the Ring (his apprentices) and a recruiter for the Ring. Now, he was supposedly a drug lord. At this point, if Enomoto told him that he was the Third Hokage's illegitimate son, Takuma would consider it.
"Then why can't you sell directly to me?" Takuma asked Enomoto. There was already an established relationship between him and Enomoto—he didn't get why they had to introduce Ryuu and bring in an unnecessary middle-man.
"Well… first, you'll need a lot of money if you want to buy from me because I only sell wholesale, so to speak," Enomoto smiled. "Second, my clients need to have an established infrastructure to move the amount of product that I sell to them. Third, I simply don't like to deal with ground-level sellers—let's just say distance is good for me.... And, unfortunately for both of us, Tobi, you don't meet any of those three points."
Takuma glanced at both of the adults in front of him and remained silent for a moment before asking, "And from the job, I'm assuming you want me to be a street dealer."
"Good, you're quick to pick things up," Ryuu said as he was getting bored and impatient with the conversation. "If you have the capital, I will sell you the product. Just a warning, I don't sell on credit. If you want to buy, it'll be only when payment is settled upfront."
Takuma was coming to understand the structure. Following Enomoto's analogy— Enomoto was the wholesaler who supplied the weed, Ryuu was a retailer one step down the ladder, and he himself was going to be the street vendor actually selling the product. Takuma didn't know if there was someone above Enomoto— only that he himself would be at the bottom of the ladder.
Takuma stared at the ziplock bag of weed, and as far as what he was going to be doing to earn money, he didn't mind selling weed. As a college student, he had smoked weed many times; while not as extensive as some because of money issues, he was a fairly regular user. It hadn't been legal where he lived, but he knew cannabis was a great recreational drug. He didn't have any qualms about selling weed to people. It checked out with the Good YouTuber Philosophy— only endorse/sell things you yourself use.
However, there were some problems that he needed to consider. He didn't know the street rates. If he was going to do this business, then he needed to know the cost price and the selling price— and if those rates were far enough apart for him to make enough profit to cover his current expenses and were worth enough for the time and labor he needed to put in to make the entire thing work.
So, he straight up asked them about the rates.
Ryuu quoted a rate— and was immediately rebuked by Enomoto.
"Don't try to screw the kid over," he said.
Ryuu clicked his tongue and gave him the rates again, and this time, the cost price was lower. Takuma made a note of that behavior before he began calculating what and how much sales he needed to make it worth his while… and after some while, he concluded that this could work. It would be rough on his savings to get that first supply, but he wasn't a stranger to tough times, and if this could improve his monetary situation, he could tighten the string on his purse.
He knew accepting this offer would bring changes to his life, and it needed commitment if he wanted to make this work.
"Alright, let's do this," said Takuma with determination in his eyes.
Ryuu grinned, "Happy doing business with you."
———
.
Takuma's life had never been busier. A combination of Ring fights, missions, training, and selling weed had cut down his sleeping hours to five hours in total. If only he had a way to get some of that bullshit' passive income.'
He had to confess: on the first day, he wasn't sure what to do with the stash of weed he had in his house because he had no customers. The first thing he had done was to decide where to keep his stash; while the quantity was low, he kept it hidden in his home but decided to find a better place away from his place in case the business grew.
On the other hand, as it turned out, selling was easy when there was substantial demand, a lack of intense competition, and a market where customers didn't do intense research and price comparison.
"Shen, my man, how are you doing today?" Takuma dapped up a young adult who was one of his customers. He thought that if he were friendly with his customers and made them feel comfortable, they would be more open to approaching him more often.
"Hey, Jin," said Shen, looking around a street with a public park on one side and a street full of restaurants on the other side.
'Jin' was one of the identities that Takuma had created to interact with his customers. Takuma wasn't a weed dealer, but his other identities were. His civilian customers weren't able to tell that he was using Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu), and his shinobi customers who could tell weren't able to tell what was behind the disguise—only that he was disguised, which worked for both parties.
"Don't be like that; look at me," Takuma gripped Shen's hand, stopping the young man from letting his nervous eyes wander around. As long as they acted like two friends who met on the street, no one was going to look at them. "So, how much do you want today?"
"…The same as last time," said Shen.
"Excellent, we can make that happen."
"Can I also get some rolling paper and filters as well?"
"Of course, we can do that as well," Takuma smiled. He had brought a lot of rolling paper and joint filters in bulk so he could sell the 'accessories' as well. If the customers could get everything required directly from him and simplify the purchasing process, they would keep coming back to him. "You know the deal, payment first." But, simultaneously, he had to set boundaries and be strict when it came to dealing. A balance was necessary for good business.
Shen took out a few bills of cash and handed them to Takuma.
"Nice doing business with you, Shen," Takuma (Jin) smiled after he counted the money with a glance. "You know where to find me the next time."
Takuma turned back and walked away. Behind him, Shen patted his satchel bag, looked inside, and found that the weed, rolling paper, and filters were already in his bag. Being a shinobi with great sleight-of-hand skills was a great skill for dealing illegal stuff.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
- Location
- yorkshire
well that's the first time i have seen a naruto mc become a drug dealer
...I feel like the first thing Takuma should have done was learn exactly how severe Konoha is on the drug scene? And for Mary Jane specifically? It's obviously not free use with disguised sellers/mules around, but knowing exactly how high a priority (and the consequences for getting caught) it would be to law enforcement (that are ALSO Ninja) is kinda important for any real risk assessment.
Also, bloody hell, advancement is harsh. Like, to the point it's extremely understandable why there are so many missing-nin (basically every low-rank nin that doesn't have enough of a brain to realize the threat of hunter-nin or long term consequences). Almost unbelievably so? Takuma is a full time Genin with minor merits, and a supposedly well-paying side gig of ring fighting (which HAS to be lucrative or it's not worth the fairly high time and risk commitments), and now drug dealing (which IRL is a very shit payout for the time and risk taken on the bottom level, but Ninja Villages break all kinds of convention and presumably are wealthier and harder to supply, so the pay out is just 'okay').
And yet, with all this, he can only get D-rank jutsu infrequently, and C-rank with months of investment and no emergencies (and possibly years if he were a rule abiding normie.) It honestly seems like less support then Konoha should be giving their Ninja. The ones that bring in money from their missions, and protect the Village in times of conflict. Are things different in war-time? Because as is, it just looks like all the ones without extra family training and libraries would have to go fight with the Academy Three and maybe a couple extra techniques, possibly dying and losing years of investment. While Clan and hereditary Ninja could do more...but there are fewer of them, and leaning on them to pull all/most of the weight in war-time is a great way to use that resource up and permanently lose knowledge and expertise (see the Senju).
Also, bloody hell, advancement is harsh. Like, to the point it's extremely understandable why there are so many missing-nin (basically every low-rank nin that doesn't have enough of a brain to realize the threat of hunter-nin or long term consequences). Almost unbelievably so? Takuma is a full time Genin with minor merits, and a supposedly well-paying side gig of ring fighting (which HAS to be lucrative or it's not worth the fairly high time and risk commitments), and now drug dealing (which IRL is a very shit payout for the time and risk taken on the bottom level, but Ninja Villages break all kinds of convention and presumably are wealthier and harder to supply, so the pay out is just 'okay').
And yet, with all this, he can only get D-rank jutsu infrequently, and C-rank with months of investment and no emergencies (and possibly years if he were a rule abiding normie.) It honestly seems like less support then Konoha should be giving their Ninja. The ones that bring in money from their missions, and protect the Village in times of conflict. Are things different in war-time? Because as is, it just looks like all the ones without extra family training and libraries would have to go fight with the Academy Three and maybe a couple extra techniques, possibly dying and losing years of investment. While Clan and hereditary Ninja could do more...but there are fewer of them, and leaning on them to pull all/most of the weight in war-time is a great way to use that resource up and permanently lose knowledge and expertise (see the Senju).
CH_3.26 (085)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
Shisui cut off the flow of chakra swimming through his body, and all the momentum from Shunshin no Jutsu (Body Flicker Jutsu) left his body, and he perfectly stopped on the ground with no extra steps needed for stabilization. His control over the jutsu had reached such mastery that the blades of grass around his feet didn't so much as flutter as he came to a stop.
He looked in silence at his young clanmate, Uchiha Itachi, the kid whom he considered a brother. Itachi stood in front of the Memorial Stone with the names of the brave heroes who had laid their lives down for the village.
"You wanted to talk to me?" asked Itachi, without looking away from the Memorial Stone.
"The clan has been worried about you since you joined the ANBU. You haven't been regular with your… duties," Shisui said.
"Worried. You mean, they're suspicious," said Itachi.
"Yes."
"They asked something of you?"
"To keep an eye on you."
"Father?"
"He was present and was the one to give the order."
Itachi turned to Shisui. "What do you think?"
"While not all of them think you're against the cause, some of them have begun to think that you might not be as enthusiastic about the cause as they think you should be," said Shisui.
"The cause," Itachi shook his head.
Following the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox's Attack, the Hidden Leaf's leadership began to suspect that the Uchiha were behind the attack due to the Sharingan's ability to control the beast. From that point onwards, the Uchiha were placed under close surveillance to find the truth— something accomplished by accumulating all of the Uchiha property scattered around the village and giving them a large section in one part of the village after the devastation caused by the beast's rampage. While it was true that a large amount of the Uchiha property had been destroyed during the rampage, most of the clan agreed that the reallocation to one section was solely for surveillance reasons.
This mistrust and isolation from the rest of the village created feelings of ill-will amongst the Uchiha and ultimately rekindled the hatred harboured towards the 'Senju-influenced' government ever since the Uchiha had been side-lined by giving them control of the Leaf Military Police Force.
That resulted in the beginning of the cause—led by the Clan Leader, Fugaku Uchiha—a coup d'état to overthrow the Hidden Leaf regime and instate the Uchiha on top of the village.
In preparation for the coup, the Uchiha started inserting its members within Konoha's command structure to act as spies. Shisui himself was among those spies who made it to ANBU and relayed information to the clan. Itachi was placed in ANBU as well, and while his role was the same, in some ways, he was a more critical piece than Shisui.
The Hidden Leaf's ANBU division was structured directly under the Hokage, but most ANBU reported to the ANBU Commander, the operating leader of the division. Only a small group of ANBU was directly under the Hokage's command. When Shisui joined the ANBU, the Uchiha clan wanted him to be placed under the Hokage's direct command, but he never got that opportunity.
On the other hand, Itachi was directly placed under the Hokage and had access to more sensitive information. Contrary to what the clan expected, Itachi became uncooperative with their needs. Unfortunately for them, the person tasked with keeping an eye on Itachi was also not in support of their operation, unknown to them.
Neither Shisui nor Itachi supported the Uchiha coup d'état because they knew it could trigger a Shinobi World War. They agreed that the Uchiha had been mistreated and deserved better as one of the founding clans and the village's protector. They even supported the vision of an Uchiha one day sitting on the Hokage chair. However, they didn't believe that the coup d'état was the way to achieve that.
"What are you thinking?" Shisui asked Itachi. They had met when Itachi graduated from the academy. Even then, Itachi always wore an indifferent expression, but with time, Shisui had learned to identify Itachi's facial quirks to recognize that his friend had made a decision.
"I believe it's time to let Lord Hokage know about this situation," said Itachi.
Shisui narrowed his eyes at the statement. Telling the Hokage meant betraying their clan, even if it was for the greater good. He licked his lips, thinking about the implications of such a decision.
"Do you disagree?" asked Itachi.
"Do you think it's wise to involve the Hokage? It could result in tensions rising," Shisui replied. He had been withholding information from the clan, but revealing their secrets and operations to their enemies was not a light decision.
"Silently opposing the plans won't lead us anywhere when the entire clan is bent on destroying everything this village stands for," Itachi's calm voice had a rare heated tone. "We can't do anything on our own. We need help."
'Oh, Itachi… if only you knew,' thought Shisui. He could potentially resolve the situation on his own, but he didn't want to take that route because of the ramifications.
Shisui sighed, "Alright… let's get the Hokage involved, but we discuss what all we disclose to him." He wasn't ready for his solution, which he considered to be extreme— for now, involving the Hokage seemed to be the most logical option.
Itachi nodded and returned to gazing at the Memorial Stone, as if remembering the names etched into the stone.
———
.
Takuma entered the Udon joint from the staff door and walked into the transfer area right outside the kitchen.
"Orders 40, 45, 47, and 50 are delivered," Takuma yelled out as he tore away the order slips hanging from the counter and threw them into the trash.
"Good job, kid!" came from inside the kitchen.
D-rank missions were no longer viable for Takuma. His dealer income was already earning more than his monthly allowance when he was under the state's care— which wasn't a large amount, but it settled his medical expenses. If not for Sango's treatment expenses, he could have lived off his drug income as he had done before he was a shinobi. The only thing he was potentially missing out on was the mission points. Mathematically, however, being in top condition before Ring fights, thus increasing his chances of winning, earned him more than doing D-rank missions. He didn't want to do D-rank missions, and the only reason he did them now was when C-rank missions with Iruka didn't meet his minimum quota. He had taken the D-rank mission as a delivery boy for an Udon joint because Iruka was away on a mission as part of a Jonin team.
As Takuma craned his neck to peer at the clock hanging near the ceiling, he heard, "Takuma!"
He looked out to the small dining area. Three very large people occupied the largest table that could accommodate ten people. One look at them, and Takuma knew they were from the Akimichi clan. It was the fourth smaller person that had called out to Takuma. He could only see a hand as the large Akimichi blocked the view.
Then Masaaki peeked through.
"Oh, Masaaki!" Takuma called back, thinking why Masaaki was in the company of Akimichi.
"Join us!" said Masaaki.
Takuma turned towards the kitchen and shouted, "Boss, can I take my break right now?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
Takuma shouted his thanks and turned back to Masaaki. "Give me a minute; I'll be right there."
After saying that, Takuma walked out of the staff's back entrance that opened up into a back alley. The moment he stepped out of the diner, he no longer looked like himself, and instead, he was a blonde man with a bright smile. He walked into the back alley on the other side of the street, where a middle-aged woman waited for him.
"Miss Shimada, my favorite customer," Takuma smiled widely. "How are you today?"
Miss Shimada was a civilian housewife that one could find in any residential area. The only difference was that she was one of Takuma's highest-grossing customers.
"Very good, thank you," Shimada said in an uptight manner without a hint of a smile on her face.
"Just like always," said Takuma. She never smiled. "What can I do for you today?"
"Double my usual," she said, taking out a thick cash clip of crisp fresh-of-the-printer notes. Takuma could almost smell the hot printer smell from them.
"Right up," Takuma dispensed the product after counting the cash. "Do you need something else, Miss Shimada?"
"No," she said while walking away from him.
"Just like always, then."
Takuma also walked back into the diner, undoing his disguise. He walked to Masaaki's table, which now had a tremendous amount of food on it. Takuma had memorized the menu, and their bill was going to be large and very good for the business.
"Come, sit beside me," Masaaki said. The Akimichi beside got up so that Takuma could go inside. Takuma didn't want to, but he sat between the Akimichi and Masaaki and was promptly squished between the two. "D-rank mission?"
"C-rank, actually. I'm spying on the boss inside to get evidence for money laundering. This entire joint is a front," when Takuma spoke without lowering his voice, all four looked towards the kitchen with surprise. "I'm joking; of course, it's a D-rank mission." Masaaki and the biggest Akimichi laughed immediately while the other two followed awkwardly. "… or is it," Takuma said with a small smile, and they quieted down. "Na, I'm just pulling your leg; it's a D-rank mission… I'm Takuma, by the way."
He was in a good mood after making the sale.
"Look how you got them. That was side-splitting," laughed the biggest Akimichi, who looked somewhat familiar to Takuma, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"This is the old uncle I was talking about," Masaaki introduced the old man. "Akimichi Choza."
Takuma furrowed his brow for a moment before they shot up when he finally recognized the man sitting across from him from a shinobi magazine. It was Akimichi Choza, the Clan Head of the Akimichi Clan. Which meant he was Akimichi Choji's father.
"I-It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Takuma tried his best to be proper and polite in front of the Head of one of the village's biggest and most influential clans. "I was in the same academy batch as Akimichi Hideaki, and I must admit, that boy is strong."
This was a huge situation that he wasn't prepared for. Takuma could feel the extra product in his pouch grow heavy, and it took a lot of self-control to not push it deeper into his pouch. He was in grave potential danger.
Choza turned to the Akimichi beside him.
"Doto's son."
"Ah, Doto's son, yes. If I remember correctly, he's learning under a Jonin," Choza nodded with a gentle and full smile. "No need to be nervous, Takuma. As you're on your break, be our guest, and eat with us."
"Thank you, sir."
After the introductions happened and the table began to eat with vigor, Takuma focused on the situation. He glanced at Masaaki, who was shoving the food without a care in the world, and remembered all the times his friend had brought up training under an "old man." Not once had Takuma thought it would be Akimichi Choza. He had no fucking idea how Masaaki had managed to get into this situation.
"I have to ask, how did you two meet?" said Takuma.
Masaaki looked up from his Udon bowl. "I was training with my bukijutsu one day when the old man came up to me. We fought—"
'They fought?!' Takuma exclaimed.
"—and then he took me under his wing."
Takuma felt his head churn. Here he was getting banged up in an arena three times a week, losing sleep selling weed around the village, laundering mission points out of LRC— and Masaaki was somehow training under Akimichi Choza.
He looked at Choza, who nodded and then at the other two Akimichi. One of them answered him.
"Clan Head saw potential in Masaaki and generously decided to help him reach his best potential. Masaaki is now under the care of the Akimichi Clan," he said arrogantly, but the mouthful of food made it come out anything but.
Takuma was once again confused. Masaaki had everything to gain from it, but what did the Akimichi clan gain? The confusion must've shown on his face as the Akimichi beside him leaned down to whisper.
"Masaaki is sponsored by the Akimichi clan. In return for the resources the clan provides for him to grow as a shinobi, he will work for the Akimichi clan and its interests."
Takuma's eyes widened as an inkling of understanding entered his brain. He glanced at Masaaki to see if he could discern any signs that showed Masaaki was being mistreated—but other than the bandage on the side of his neck, Masaaki looked to be fine.
The meal lasted close to an hour, with the plates coming and going from the table. Akimichi ate a lot and was good for the restaurant industry of the Leaf. As they were leaving, Takuma saw them off and asked to talk to Masaaki alone,
"You go ahead; I'll catch up," said Masaaki to the Akimichi.
Takuma waited for them to be outside of earshot before asking, "You're working for the Akimichi now? Do you understand what that means? Are you fine with that? They're not mistreating you, right? What kind of things—"
Masaaki put his finger on Takuma's lips. The usual happy-go-lucky expression had mellowed down to a small smile with seriousness showing through in his eyes. "I understand my current arrangement perfectly well, Takuma. The old man had made it very clear the day he invited me to join the clan," he said.
"How long will you have to work for them?" asked Takuma, still worried about Masaaki.
"That's between me and them," Masaaki said. He looked at his hand as he clenched his fist, "I want to get stronger, and if they can make me stronger, then I will continue working for the Akimichi clan. And it's not like they're terrible—everyone I train and spend time with are lovely people."
Masaaki smiled, "You worry too much, Takuma. I'm not dumb—"
"I never said that."
"Yes, I know. I understand what I agreed to, and it wasn't a spot decision— I thought about it long and hard before I agreed to the old man's deal. You don't have to be worried about whatever bad things you're worrying about— they're good people," Masaaki patted Takuma's shoulder hard and heavy.
Takuma breathed out as his shoulders loosened. He was still worried about his friend, but something from Masaaki told him that he had it under control.
"They're really treating you well?" asked Takuma.
Masaaki nodded with a smile.
Takuma sighed, "Alright, just… just take care of yourself."
"I will!" Masaaki grinned brightly as ever.
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He looked in silence at his young clanmate, Uchiha Itachi, the kid whom he considered a brother. Itachi stood in front of the Memorial Stone with the names of the brave heroes who had laid their lives down for the village.
"You wanted to talk to me?" asked Itachi, without looking away from the Memorial Stone.
"The clan has been worried about you since you joined the ANBU. You haven't been regular with your… duties," Shisui said.
"Worried. You mean, they're suspicious," said Itachi.
"Yes."
"They asked something of you?"
"To keep an eye on you."
"Father?"
"He was present and was the one to give the order."
Itachi turned to Shisui. "What do you think?"
"While not all of them think you're against the cause, some of them have begun to think that you might not be as enthusiastic about the cause as they think you should be," said Shisui.
"The cause," Itachi shook his head.
Following the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox's Attack, the Hidden Leaf's leadership began to suspect that the Uchiha were behind the attack due to the Sharingan's ability to control the beast. From that point onwards, the Uchiha were placed under close surveillance to find the truth— something accomplished by accumulating all of the Uchiha property scattered around the village and giving them a large section in one part of the village after the devastation caused by the beast's rampage. While it was true that a large amount of the Uchiha property had been destroyed during the rampage, most of the clan agreed that the reallocation to one section was solely for surveillance reasons.
This mistrust and isolation from the rest of the village created feelings of ill-will amongst the Uchiha and ultimately rekindled the hatred harboured towards the 'Senju-influenced' government ever since the Uchiha had been side-lined by giving them control of the Leaf Military Police Force.
That resulted in the beginning of the cause—led by the Clan Leader, Fugaku Uchiha—a coup d'état to overthrow the Hidden Leaf regime and instate the Uchiha on top of the village.
In preparation for the coup, the Uchiha started inserting its members within Konoha's command structure to act as spies. Shisui himself was among those spies who made it to ANBU and relayed information to the clan. Itachi was placed in ANBU as well, and while his role was the same, in some ways, he was a more critical piece than Shisui.
The Hidden Leaf's ANBU division was structured directly under the Hokage, but most ANBU reported to the ANBU Commander, the operating leader of the division. Only a small group of ANBU was directly under the Hokage's command. When Shisui joined the ANBU, the Uchiha clan wanted him to be placed under the Hokage's direct command, but he never got that opportunity.
On the other hand, Itachi was directly placed under the Hokage and had access to more sensitive information. Contrary to what the clan expected, Itachi became uncooperative with their needs. Unfortunately for them, the person tasked with keeping an eye on Itachi was also not in support of their operation, unknown to them.
Neither Shisui nor Itachi supported the Uchiha coup d'état because they knew it could trigger a Shinobi World War. They agreed that the Uchiha had been mistreated and deserved better as one of the founding clans and the village's protector. They even supported the vision of an Uchiha one day sitting on the Hokage chair. However, they didn't believe that the coup d'état was the way to achieve that.
"What are you thinking?" Shisui asked Itachi. They had met when Itachi graduated from the academy. Even then, Itachi always wore an indifferent expression, but with time, Shisui had learned to identify Itachi's facial quirks to recognize that his friend had made a decision.
"I believe it's time to let Lord Hokage know about this situation," said Itachi.
Shisui narrowed his eyes at the statement. Telling the Hokage meant betraying their clan, even if it was for the greater good. He licked his lips, thinking about the implications of such a decision.
"Do you disagree?" asked Itachi.
"Do you think it's wise to involve the Hokage? It could result in tensions rising," Shisui replied. He had been withholding information from the clan, but revealing their secrets and operations to their enemies was not a light decision.
"Silently opposing the plans won't lead us anywhere when the entire clan is bent on destroying everything this village stands for," Itachi's calm voice had a rare heated tone. "We can't do anything on our own. We need help."
'Oh, Itachi… if only you knew,' thought Shisui. He could potentially resolve the situation on his own, but he didn't want to take that route because of the ramifications.
Shisui sighed, "Alright… let's get the Hokage involved, but we discuss what all we disclose to him." He wasn't ready for his solution, which he considered to be extreme— for now, involving the Hokage seemed to be the most logical option.
Itachi nodded and returned to gazing at the Memorial Stone, as if remembering the names etched into the stone.
———
.
Takuma entered the Udon joint from the staff door and walked into the transfer area right outside the kitchen.
"Orders 40, 45, 47, and 50 are delivered," Takuma yelled out as he tore away the order slips hanging from the counter and threw them into the trash.
"Good job, kid!" came from inside the kitchen.
D-rank missions were no longer viable for Takuma. His dealer income was already earning more than his monthly allowance when he was under the state's care— which wasn't a large amount, but it settled his medical expenses. If not for Sango's treatment expenses, he could have lived off his drug income as he had done before he was a shinobi. The only thing he was potentially missing out on was the mission points. Mathematically, however, being in top condition before Ring fights, thus increasing his chances of winning, earned him more than doing D-rank missions. He didn't want to do D-rank missions, and the only reason he did them now was when C-rank missions with Iruka didn't meet his minimum quota. He had taken the D-rank mission as a delivery boy for an Udon joint because Iruka was away on a mission as part of a Jonin team.
As Takuma craned his neck to peer at the clock hanging near the ceiling, he heard, "Takuma!"
He looked out to the small dining area. Three very large people occupied the largest table that could accommodate ten people. One look at them, and Takuma knew they were from the Akimichi clan. It was the fourth smaller person that had called out to Takuma. He could only see a hand as the large Akimichi blocked the view.
Then Masaaki peeked through.
"Oh, Masaaki!" Takuma called back, thinking why Masaaki was in the company of Akimichi.
"Join us!" said Masaaki.
Takuma turned towards the kitchen and shouted, "Boss, can I take my break right now?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
Takuma shouted his thanks and turned back to Masaaki. "Give me a minute; I'll be right there."
After saying that, Takuma walked out of the staff's back entrance that opened up into a back alley. The moment he stepped out of the diner, he no longer looked like himself, and instead, he was a blonde man with a bright smile. He walked into the back alley on the other side of the street, where a middle-aged woman waited for him.
"Miss Shimada, my favorite customer," Takuma smiled widely. "How are you today?"
Miss Shimada was a civilian housewife that one could find in any residential area. The only difference was that she was one of Takuma's highest-grossing customers.
"Very good, thank you," Shimada said in an uptight manner without a hint of a smile on her face.
"Just like always," said Takuma. She never smiled. "What can I do for you today?"
"Double my usual," she said, taking out a thick cash clip of crisp fresh-of-the-printer notes. Takuma could almost smell the hot printer smell from them.
"Right up," Takuma dispensed the product after counting the cash. "Do you need something else, Miss Shimada?"
"No," she said while walking away from him.
"Just like always, then."
Takuma also walked back into the diner, undoing his disguise. He walked to Masaaki's table, which now had a tremendous amount of food on it. Takuma had memorized the menu, and their bill was going to be large and very good for the business.
"Come, sit beside me," Masaaki said. The Akimichi beside got up so that Takuma could go inside. Takuma didn't want to, but he sat between the Akimichi and Masaaki and was promptly squished between the two. "D-rank mission?"
"C-rank, actually. I'm spying on the boss inside to get evidence for money laundering. This entire joint is a front," when Takuma spoke without lowering his voice, all four looked towards the kitchen with surprise. "I'm joking; of course, it's a D-rank mission." Masaaki and the biggest Akimichi laughed immediately while the other two followed awkwardly. "… or is it," Takuma said with a small smile, and they quieted down. "Na, I'm just pulling your leg; it's a D-rank mission… I'm Takuma, by the way."
He was in a good mood after making the sale.
"Look how you got them. That was side-splitting," laughed the biggest Akimichi, who looked somewhat familiar to Takuma, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"This is the old uncle I was talking about," Masaaki introduced the old man. "Akimichi Choza."
Takuma furrowed his brow for a moment before they shot up when he finally recognized the man sitting across from him from a shinobi magazine. It was Akimichi Choza, the Clan Head of the Akimichi Clan. Which meant he was Akimichi Choji's father.
"I-It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Takuma tried his best to be proper and polite in front of the Head of one of the village's biggest and most influential clans. "I was in the same academy batch as Akimichi Hideaki, and I must admit, that boy is strong."
This was a huge situation that he wasn't prepared for. Takuma could feel the extra product in his pouch grow heavy, and it took a lot of self-control to not push it deeper into his pouch. He was in grave potential danger.
Choza turned to the Akimichi beside him.
"Doto's son."
"Ah, Doto's son, yes. If I remember correctly, he's learning under a Jonin," Choza nodded with a gentle and full smile. "No need to be nervous, Takuma. As you're on your break, be our guest, and eat with us."
"Thank you, sir."
After the introductions happened and the table began to eat with vigor, Takuma focused on the situation. He glanced at Masaaki, who was shoving the food without a care in the world, and remembered all the times his friend had brought up training under an "old man." Not once had Takuma thought it would be Akimichi Choza. He had no fucking idea how Masaaki had managed to get into this situation.
"I have to ask, how did you two meet?" said Takuma.
Masaaki looked up from his Udon bowl. "I was training with my bukijutsu one day when the old man came up to me. We fought—"
'They fought?!' Takuma exclaimed.
"—and then he took me under his wing."
Takuma felt his head churn. Here he was getting banged up in an arena three times a week, losing sleep selling weed around the village, laundering mission points out of LRC— and Masaaki was somehow training under Akimichi Choza.
He looked at Choza, who nodded and then at the other two Akimichi. One of them answered him.
"Clan Head saw potential in Masaaki and generously decided to help him reach his best potential. Masaaki is now under the care of the Akimichi Clan," he said arrogantly, but the mouthful of food made it come out anything but.
Takuma was once again confused. Masaaki had everything to gain from it, but what did the Akimichi clan gain? The confusion must've shown on his face as the Akimichi beside him leaned down to whisper.
"Masaaki is sponsored by the Akimichi clan. In return for the resources the clan provides for him to grow as a shinobi, he will work for the Akimichi clan and its interests."
Takuma's eyes widened as an inkling of understanding entered his brain. He glanced at Masaaki to see if he could discern any signs that showed Masaaki was being mistreated—but other than the bandage on the side of his neck, Masaaki looked to be fine.
The meal lasted close to an hour, with the plates coming and going from the table. Akimichi ate a lot and was good for the restaurant industry of the Leaf. As they were leaving, Takuma saw them off and asked to talk to Masaaki alone,
"You go ahead; I'll catch up," said Masaaki to the Akimichi.
Takuma waited for them to be outside of earshot before asking, "You're working for the Akimichi now? Do you understand what that means? Are you fine with that? They're not mistreating you, right? What kind of things—"
Masaaki put his finger on Takuma's lips. The usual happy-go-lucky expression had mellowed down to a small smile with seriousness showing through in his eyes. "I understand my current arrangement perfectly well, Takuma. The old man had made it very clear the day he invited me to join the clan," he said.
"How long will you have to work for them?" asked Takuma, still worried about Masaaki.
"That's between me and them," Masaaki said. He looked at his hand as he clenched his fist, "I want to get stronger, and if they can make me stronger, then I will continue working for the Akimichi clan. And it's not like they're terrible—everyone I train and spend time with are lovely people."
Masaaki smiled, "You worry too much, Takuma. I'm not dumb—"
"I never said that."
"Yes, I know. I understand what I agreed to, and it wasn't a spot decision— I thought about it long and hard before I agreed to the old man's deal. You don't have to be worried about whatever bad things you're worrying about— they're good people," Masaaki patted Takuma's shoulder hard and heavy.
Takuma breathed out as his shoulders loosened. He was still worried about his friend, but something from Masaaki told him that he had it under control.
"They're really treating you well?" asked Takuma.
Masaaki nodded with a smile.
Takuma sighed, "Alright, just… just take care of yourself."
"I will!" Masaaki grinned brightly as ever.
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- Location
- yorkshire
or maybe it's in the clans interest to make sure its members have an advantage politics is not always about what is logical but what is best for your interests
Clan influence is a thing, but they all already have a unique gimmick and (mostly) a significant amount of resources in infrastructure, businesses, and stored wealth. They don't really need to do shit to stay on top besides not lose too much jockeying with other Clans (not that they do much of that at all), and not piss off the Hokage too much.
It's just, Konoha is the largest ninja village, the one whose policy most closely aligns with developing ALL it's Shinobi, the one who has the most advanced facilities to advance Shinobi between it's wealthy and knowledgeable founding Clans and progressive geniuses like the Sannin and Hiruzen Sarutobi, and it's probably at least tied with Kumo for wealth after rebuilding from the Kyuubi disaster. Add on that there's ALSO a motive to regain it's strength after they got bled so much in the Third War and Kyuubi attack? You would think it would have a lot more support for the growth of it's Shinobi. And by all appearances...it doesn't.
Making the powerful and restricted techniques actually hard to get at? So it's a major achievement to earn them, and you probably only have the resources for it when you're old/powerful enough to actually use them anyway? I totally get that. Making the lowest level stuff so hard to get at when at the same time mission-payout is low and time consuming... that's just self-sabotage. If Shinobi have to work so much they can't actually train their techniques, or they can focus on self-improvement but not have the resources to survive or advance their skills... that's BAD for what is intended to be an 'intermediate' step on their career. Genin aren't intended to be serious combatants in a conflict, and anything that restricts the advancement of Genin to Chunin (in competence and threat, not just rank) is a strategic issue for Konoha. Especially when, as mentioned before, they're already suffering a man-power deficit from the last wars.
Takuma is getting the full Hood experience. Lives in a red lights district barely affording his apartment while selling weed and fighting to survive. Dude has it rough. Hope he makes it from the trenches soon.
COMPLETELY AGREE, I love this story and it's one of my current favorites, but occasionally I would just get a feeling of slight offness, but it's definitely the massive plot hole you just pointed to. Respecting of authors creative liberties and real lack of concrete fact delivered in the original novel, but it does feel almost disharmonious (couldn't think of a better word) to be reading about the MC struggle in real life ways in such a fantastical setting. Weirdly grounded where other fanfiction (even most of the best ones) have a sense of crazy power creep or unfamiliar and unrealistic struggle. Reading about a guy have to sell weed and prize fight to make ends meet in the context where I'm usually reading about I'm ending this here bc idek what my original point was
TLDR deez nuts
CH_3.27 (086)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
The arena reserved for the weapons category was filled with anticipation on a Friday evening. It was a prime fighting spot in the Ring. The fighters who got an opportunity to fight on weekend spots knew they were under the spotlight - a sign that they were valued. It was reserved for veteran fighters, fighters on long winning streaks, and rising fighters to gain popularity that would elevate them to the next level.
It was a stage of opportunities.
"I wanted to see Ironbull go against Lady Fir," sighed a man in the audience.
The second man beside him spoke, "I heard she got called away on a mission."
"I was there when Lady Fir fought Ironbull last time. I so wanted to see the rematch," said the first man. "I don't even know the substitute. What's his name again?"
"Scars," replied the second man. "He has a 42-29 record. Pretty good."
"42-29?" the first man quirked a brow. "That's seventy-one fights. Then this is his last fight on the rookie contract," he knew a thing or two about how the contracts worked in the Ring. "Are they trying to get him to extend his contract by having him fight in a prime spot?" It was a known observation that many Ring fighters left after their first contract ended.
"Could be… but then why would they pair him against Ironbull? It's like putting a newborn calf against a… well, bull. Scars is going to get slaughtered."
The first man shook his head, "Ironbull is from the jutsu category - and the fight is in the weapons category. We don't know how well Ironbull will fight with his ninjutsu tied up."
The second man laughed at that. "You forget that Ironbull spent a year and a half in the weapons category before his first hiatus. And haven't you seen the tetsubo he wields? Ironbull will win this one, no doubt about it."
The first man cringed at the mention of the tetsubo. He had seen several Ironbull fights, and the man swung the war club like a demon on a rampage. The Ring might have desensitized him to the shinobi violence, but the memory of Ironbull crushing his opponent's thigh with his tetsubo was still seared in his mind. His bones quivered at the mere thought of what it would be like to have the war club whiff past him.
"I already put money on Ironbull," said the second man. "If you haven't, do it quickly before the counters stop accepting bets."
The first man wasn't the gambling kind but wondered if he could let his purse strings loose and put some money on what seemed to be an already decided fight. He wouldn't lose his money and would even make some winnings, no matter how minuscule, because of the odds.
———
.
A sheen of sweat covered Ironbull's bronze body as he walked into the fighter's tunnel with his bull mask that had a scratch on the lower left corner. Waiting for him were his team members, as they would be before any fight.
"Leader, about this Scars—"
Ironbull raised his hands. "My equipment," he said. The Ring staff checked the equipment before fights, and he didn't like to remove it once he had put it on, so he had them check it before he put everything on in the tunnel itself.
"Go ahead," he said as he put on his guards.
"Scars uses the standard weapons pack, partial to the kunai the most. He is…"
Ironbull listened to the intel gathered by his team on his opponent. He hadn't heard of this Scars before, it was decided that he would be fighting the fellow because Lady Fir had withdrawn from the fight.
He frowned behind his mask as his mood soured. The foul woman had beaten him twice before, and this time was supposed to be his victory. He had been preparing for a fight against her for months—hours spent recalling her patterns and movements, coming up with counters, and digging for openings.
All wasted. Who knows when they will get to fight next.
He was in no mood for this fight, and the only reason he had agreed to fight the nobody was because of the money. His contract promised great amounts of ryo for every fight, and he wasn't going to let that go away. It wasn't his fault that Lady Fir had withdrawn from the fight. Tsubura would have to kill him by sitting on him before he let a single ryo escape his grasp.
"… a seven-fight win streak," the intel continued, "that is attributed to the chakra augmentation—"
That interested Ironbull. "Chakra augmentations?" he asked.
"Strength augmentations."
Ironbull hummed. He had fought people stronger than him, but he hadn't fought anyone who used chakra augmentations.
"It's time," one of the staff members came to inform that it was time.
Ironbull raised his arm for one of the members to hand him his trusted iron-cored tetsubo with iron studs covering the surface.
"My tetsubo versus his strength augmentations—let's see who breaks first."
With great fanfare, Ironbull entered the arena with his team members forming an entourage that followed him to the metal gates of the cage. The audience cheered in a frenzy as Ironbull lifted the tetsubo off his back and above his chest in greeting to the people who had come to watch. They were there to see him, and Ironbull made it so they felt like they were being seen.
From the other side, the opposite of the pomp of Ironbull's entry, Scars entered the arena quietly as the crowd's cheers drowned the announcer's introduction.
When Ironbull noticed Scars entering the arena, he walked towards him with his tetsubo dragging against the arena floor. Usually, the announcer would stop the fighters from approaching each other before the fight, but as Ironbull walked to Scars, the announcer didn't say anything.
"You're just a kid," said Ironbull, looking down at Scars.
The size difference between the two fighters was apparent as they stood near each other. Ironbull was broad and tall with bulging muscles suitable to lift the bulky tetsubo. Scars, on the other hand, was lean and short with wiry limbs that didn't seem capable of holding any significant strength.
Scars looked up at Ironbull and tilted his head. "Ironbull, huh...with those things, Ironcow would be more suitable, don't you think?" he pointed at Ironbull's bulging chest, "Got milk? — Mooooo."
Ironbull laughed rowdily before staring down at Scars. He raised his tetsubo a few inches before letting the edge fall with a thump.
... thump
... thump
... thump
He finally said, "You're funny, kid. Try not to break quickly, or it won't be fun."
———
.
*Clang!*
The metal doors fell, and Ironbull charged towards Takuma with his tetsubo dragging on the floor behind him. Takuma felt for the metal in his weapons pouch and threw a volley of shuriken at his larger opponent.
Ironbull raised his war club with two hands and angled it to deflect or block the projectiles.
Takuma threw another volley of stars while moving back unhurriedly as Ironbull closed in the distance. He noticed the handle on the tetsubo was long with enough space for a two-handed grip, meaning that it was a two-handed weapon.
He recalled his experience facing two-handed weapons and based his strategy around it.
Ironbull leaped into the air, and as Takuma expected, he held the tetsubo in a two-handed grip and swung it down executioner-style. Takuma sidestepped at the last moment, and the metal ring on the blunt club's end cracked the floor.
Opportunity, thought Takuma, and without a doubt, he moved in for a stab in the chest with a kunai. Ironbull released one hand from the tetsubo and backhanded Takuma, sending him back staggering, but not before the kunai left a gash just above Ironbull's arm guard, spurting blood.
"Argh!" Ironbull groaned, his facial muscles twitching. The next second, the war club was up and swinging. Instincts took over Takuma like strings on a puppet—he bent his knees, and his back turned parallel to the floor as the tetsubo passed by above him, close enough that he could smell the wood, metal, and a faint scent of blood.
"Pesky little thing, aren't ya!" Ironbull laughed as he expertly swung his tetsubo in a downward swing that Takuma jumped away to dodge with two kunai hurling towards Ironbull's face.
The tetsubo moved with surprising dexterity and blocked against the kunai before they could hit Ironbull. Takuma narrowed his eyes as he put a strain on his legs, pushing him away from Ironbull, who once again gave chase.
If there was one thing he had developed in seventy-one fights in caged arenas was a sense of distance. He knew that the edge was near. A plan formed in his mind.
Takuma slowed down, and Ironbull took a mere second to barge into range. The tetsubo split the wind with a horizontal swing for Takuma's head, who squatted as the tetsubo neared and jumped with all his might as it passed.
In mid-air, Takuma turned back, grabbed onto the links of the cage, pushed with his feet, and in a moment, he was above Ironbull. Takuma looked down, and Ironbull looked up—their eyes met as Takuma raised his leg and brought it down in a Rock Lee-styled axe kick to the back of Ironbull's head.
Under his feet, Takuma felt the neck snap down.
Next step, he thought.
In a reserve grip, a gleaming kunai was already in Takuma's hand as he landed on the floor—and he stabbed it into the wrist that still stubbornly held onto the war club.
Ironbull screamed as his grip on his war club gave Takuma a chance to seize it and pull away.
Takuma stared at the screaming man as he moved away.
"I wonder how strong a bull is without its horns," he murmured as gears behind his eyes began to turn.
———
.
"You dirty brat!" Ironbull roared with a glower as he pulled the kunai out of his wrist. When he looked up, Scars was nowhere to be seen. He turned back and immediately found the kid with his tetsubo lying by the feet.
Scars stared at Ironbull as he raised his foot and stomped it down on the tetsubo. Under the unnatural force, the wood cracked as it splintered and flew away in all directions.
Clink… clink… clink.
Ironbull looked down and saw one of the iron studs rolled by his feet. He looked up only to come face-to-face with three kunai flying toward him. His instincts screamed as he dodged away—and yet, one of the kunai embedded itself into his shoulder.
His heart thrummed as he smelled blood. Ironbull reached up to his shoulder and pulled the kunai with a grunt.
"Moooo…" sang the brat as he kicked the broken tetsubo towards him.
Ironbull breathed in a shaky sigh and growled with hatred bubbling in his eyes, "I'm going to kill you." Under an enraged haze, he rushed towards Scars and picked up his broken tetsubo on the way—the outer wood might have been splintered, but the iron core was still intact.
Splintered wood would dig into the flesh—and he wanted it to hurt.
Scars ran towards him with a kunai in each hand, and the two met in a metal clash. Ironbull swung the war club for Scars to stab a kunai in the wood and pushed it away while the second kunai flew for his head. Ironbull turned his head away to dodge the kunai and, with barred teeth, slammed his head into Scars'. The boy reeled back, and Ironbull swung the tetsubo with his good hand, sending the boy flying.
Scars rag dolled across the arena, feeling the splinters of wood digging deeper into his flesh, and shook his head to stabilize his vision only to see Ironbull's tetsubo coming down for his head. He jumped back, and his eyes glanced at the ground for a moment.
Ironbull pulled the war club up to swing it again, feeling the pain from his injured shoulder, when he noticed Scars pulling senbon out of his pouch. He flexed his muscles and angled the tetsubo just before they could pierce his neck.
It was then he heard,
"You need to rely less on that club and learn how to dodge."
The ground beneath Scars cracked and exploded as he all but teleported into range with a cocked arm with bulging veins. Ironbull moved the arm with the injured wrist in the way of the body shot.
Crack!
Before the pain could even hit, Ironbull knew that the bone in his arm had shattered. One thought passed through his mind—'chakra augmentation.'
A guttural and deep cry escaped Ironbull that was immediately cut off as—
Crack!
— Scars' other fist dug into Ironbull's torso, shattering ribs.
Ironbull coughed up blood as his vision blurred, and he began to feel faint. He tried to raise his tetsubo in front of him. His weapon, which had long since seized to feel heavy in his hands, now felt like it was being sucked into the ground.
Scars raised his leg and kicked Ironbull in the front, sending the larger man flying across the arena.
Sango watched from the fighter's tunnel as the metal gates opened, and Takuma walked out with the people slapping the mesh barriers as he walked past them. Most of them didn't look happy. She knew those angry people must've lost their money and feared that they would swarm him if the barriers gave away.
She was about to call out to him when she heard footsteps behind her, and her breath caught when she saw a fat man that looked like he was made of tires trod out from the shadow with two guards behind him.
She recognized him— Tsubura, the Ring's boss.
Tsubura glanced at her for half a moment before looking away at Takuma with a greasy smile.
"Ah, my proud boy, Scars. That was—"
Takuma cut him off the moment he stepped into the tunnel, "So much for balanced opponents, eh, boss," he spat and stepped close to Tsubura. The two guards stepped ahead between Takuma and Tsubura. Takuma continued, "My contract just ended, boss. And if you want me to continue fighting, then you either pay me more or— make these fights balanced!"
Tsubura's smile didn't even twitch as Takuma spewed the heated words.
"From what I can see, you're relatively uninjured while Ironbull is going through a tough time right about now," his smile turned greasier, and his eyes sharpened. "Maybe you're right, the fight was unbalanced— maybe we should've paired you against a tougher opponent. What do you say, boy?"
Takuma glared at Tsubura before walking away with heated steps.
Sango followed after him to the medical room, where the moment they entered, Takuma collapsed on the ground. Sango immediately locked the door and rushed to Takuma's side. Other than some bruises and wood splinters cutting into his flesh, Takuma was relatively uninjured.
It was his arms… they were trembling aggressively and had turned a worrying red. She looked down at his leg, and even though it was much better, she could see similar signs.
Sango, having seen this before, began the healing process with haste. "You idiot," she cursed as she removed his mask to help him breathe better. "Either figure it out already or stop using the augmentation."
It was almost every fight where she had to heal bruising, internal bleeding, bones with hairline fractures, or outright muscle tears. He had been using the chakra augmentations for months now, and after healing him so many times, she had realized what exactly Takuma had been doing. She had researched to make her job easier and had found that his ways were primitive. When she tried to make him give up, as she couldn't see it reaching a point where Takuma was envisioning it, he had ignored her advice and kept on using it.
"I-I… used it three times in a row," Takuma eeked out.
"What?"
"In a row," Takuma said again as his chest rose up and down. "I haven't been able to do it three times in a row."
As Sango looked up at Takuma's face, even though it was twitching with pain, there was a gritted smile on his face. She looked down at his arms only to notice that even though it had only been a minute... his arm was already looking stabilized.
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It was a stage of opportunities.
"I wanted to see Ironbull go against Lady Fir," sighed a man in the audience.
The second man beside him spoke, "I heard she got called away on a mission."
"I was there when Lady Fir fought Ironbull last time. I so wanted to see the rematch," said the first man. "I don't even know the substitute. What's his name again?"
"Scars," replied the second man. "He has a 42-29 record. Pretty good."
"42-29?" the first man quirked a brow. "That's seventy-one fights. Then this is his last fight on the rookie contract," he knew a thing or two about how the contracts worked in the Ring. "Are they trying to get him to extend his contract by having him fight in a prime spot?" It was a known observation that many Ring fighters left after their first contract ended.
"Could be… but then why would they pair him against Ironbull? It's like putting a newborn calf against a… well, bull. Scars is going to get slaughtered."
The first man shook his head, "Ironbull is from the jutsu category - and the fight is in the weapons category. We don't know how well Ironbull will fight with his ninjutsu tied up."
The second man laughed at that. "You forget that Ironbull spent a year and a half in the weapons category before his first hiatus. And haven't you seen the tetsubo he wields? Ironbull will win this one, no doubt about it."
The first man cringed at the mention of the tetsubo. He had seen several Ironbull fights, and the man swung the war club like a demon on a rampage. The Ring might have desensitized him to the shinobi violence, but the memory of Ironbull crushing his opponent's thigh with his tetsubo was still seared in his mind. His bones quivered at the mere thought of what it would be like to have the war club whiff past him.
"I already put money on Ironbull," said the second man. "If you haven't, do it quickly before the counters stop accepting bets."
The first man wasn't the gambling kind but wondered if he could let his purse strings loose and put some money on what seemed to be an already decided fight. He wouldn't lose his money and would even make some winnings, no matter how minuscule, because of the odds.
———
.
A sheen of sweat covered Ironbull's bronze body as he walked into the fighter's tunnel with his bull mask that had a scratch on the lower left corner. Waiting for him were his team members, as they would be before any fight.
"Leader, about this Scars—"
Ironbull raised his hands. "My equipment," he said. The Ring staff checked the equipment before fights, and he didn't like to remove it once he had put it on, so he had them check it before he put everything on in the tunnel itself.
"Go ahead," he said as he put on his guards.
"Scars uses the standard weapons pack, partial to the kunai the most. He is…"
Ironbull listened to the intel gathered by his team on his opponent. He hadn't heard of this Scars before, it was decided that he would be fighting the fellow because Lady Fir had withdrawn from the fight.
He frowned behind his mask as his mood soured. The foul woman had beaten him twice before, and this time was supposed to be his victory. He had been preparing for a fight against her for months—hours spent recalling her patterns and movements, coming up with counters, and digging for openings.
All wasted. Who knows when they will get to fight next.
He was in no mood for this fight, and the only reason he had agreed to fight the nobody was because of the money. His contract promised great amounts of ryo for every fight, and he wasn't going to let that go away. It wasn't his fault that Lady Fir had withdrawn from the fight. Tsubura would have to kill him by sitting on him before he let a single ryo escape his grasp.
"… a seven-fight win streak," the intel continued, "that is attributed to the chakra augmentation—"
That interested Ironbull. "Chakra augmentations?" he asked.
"Strength augmentations."
Ironbull hummed. He had fought people stronger than him, but he hadn't fought anyone who used chakra augmentations.
"It's time," one of the staff members came to inform that it was time.
Ironbull raised his arm for one of the members to hand him his trusted iron-cored tetsubo with iron studs covering the surface.
"My tetsubo versus his strength augmentations—let's see who breaks first."
With great fanfare, Ironbull entered the arena with his team members forming an entourage that followed him to the metal gates of the cage. The audience cheered in a frenzy as Ironbull lifted the tetsubo off his back and above his chest in greeting to the people who had come to watch. They were there to see him, and Ironbull made it so they felt like they were being seen.
From the other side, the opposite of the pomp of Ironbull's entry, Scars entered the arena quietly as the crowd's cheers drowned the announcer's introduction.
When Ironbull noticed Scars entering the arena, he walked towards him with his tetsubo dragging against the arena floor. Usually, the announcer would stop the fighters from approaching each other before the fight, but as Ironbull walked to Scars, the announcer didn't say anything.
"You're just a kid," said Ironbull, looking down at Scars.
The size difference between the two fighters was apparent as they stood near each other. Ironbull was broad and tall with bulging muscles suitable to lift the bulky tetsubo. Scars, on the other hand, was lean and short with wiry limbs that didn't seem capable of holding any significant strength.
Scars looked up at Ironbull and tilted his head. "Ironbull, huh...with those things, Ironcow would be more suitable, don't you think?" he pointed at Ironbull's bulging chest, "Got milk? — Mooooo."
Ironbull laughed rowdily before staring down at Scars. He raised his tetsubo a few inches before letting the edge fall with a thump.
... thump
... thump
... thump
He finally said, "You're funny, kid. Try not to break quickly, or it won't be fun."
———
.
*Clang!*
The metal doors fell, and Ironbull charged towards Takuma with his tetsubo dragging on the floor behind him. Takuma felt for the metal in his weapons pouch and threw a volley of shuriken at his larger opponent.
Ironbull raised his war club with two hands and angled it to deflect or block the projectiles.
Takuma threw another volley of stars while moving back unhurriedly as Ironbull closed in the distance. He noticed the handle on the tetsubo was long with enough space for a two-handed grip, meaning that it was a two-handed weapon.
He recalled his experience facing two-handed weapons and based his strategy around it.
Ironbull leaped into the air, and as Takuma expected, he held the tetsubo in a two-handed grip and swung it down executioner-style. Takuma sidestepped at the last moment, and the metal ring on the blunt club's end cracked the floor.
Opportunity, thought Takuma, and without a doubt, he moved in for a stab in the chest with a kunai. Ironbull released one hand from the tetsubo and backhanded Takuma, sending him back staggering, but not before the kunai left a gash just above Ironbull's arm guard, spurting blood.
"Argh!" Ironbull groaned, his facial muscles twitching. The next second, the war club was up and swinging. Instincts took over Takuma like strings on a puppet—he bent his knees, and his back turned parallel to the floor as the tetsubo passed by above him, close enough that he could smell the wood, metal, and a faint scent of blood.
"Pesky little thing, aren't ya!" Ironbull laughed as he expertly swung his tetsubo in a downward swing that Takuma jumped away to dodge with two kunai hurling towards Ironbull's face.
The tetsubo moved with surprising dexterity and blocked against the kunai before they could hit Ironbull. Takuma narrowed his eyes as he put a strain on his legs, pushing him away from Ironbull, who once again gave chase.
If there was one thing he had developed in seventy-one fights in caged arenas was a sense of distance. He knew that the edge was near. A plan formed in his mind.
Takuma slowed down, and Ironbull took a mere second to barge into range. The tetsubo split the wind with a horizontal swing for Takuma's head, who squatted as the tetsubo neared and jumped with all his might as it passed.
In mid-air, Takuma turned back, grabbed onto the links of the cage, pushed with his feet, and in a moment, he was above Ironbull. Takuma looked down, and Ironbull looked up—their eyes met as Takuma raised his leg and brought it down in a Rock Lee-styled axe kick to the back of Ironbull's head.
Under his feet, Takuma felt the neck snap down.
Next step, he thought.
In a reserve grip, a gleaming kunai was already in Takuma's hand as he landed on the floor—and he stabbed it into the wrist that still stubbornly held onto the war club.
Ironbull screamed as his grip on his war club gave Takuma a chance to seize it and pull away.
Takuma stared at the screaming man as he moved away.
"I wonder how strong a bull is without its horns," he murmured as gears behind his eyes began to turn.
———
.
"You dirty brat!" Ironbull roared with a glower as he pulled the kunai out of his wrist. When he looked up, Scars was nowhere to be seen. He turned back and immediately found the kid with his tetsubo lying by the feet.
Scars stared at Ironbull as he raised his foot and stomped it down on the tetsubo. Under the unnatural force, the wood cracked as it splintered and flew away in all directions.
Clink… clink… clink.
Ironbull looked down and saw one of the iron studs rolled by his feet. He looked up only to come face-to-face with three kunai flying toward him. His instincts screamed as he dodged away—and yet, one of the kunai embedded itself into his shoulder.
His heart thrummed as he smelled blood. Ironbull reached up to his shoulder and pulled the kunai with a grunt.
"Moooo…" sang the brat as he kicked the broken tetsubo towards him.
Ironbull breathed in a shaky sigh and growled with hatred bubbling in his eyes, "I'm going to kill you." Under an enraged haze, he rushed towards Scars and picked up his broken tetsubo on the way—the outer wood might have been splintered, but the iron core was still intact.
Splintered wood would dig into the flesh—and he wanted it to hurt.
Scars ran towards him with a kunai in each hand, and the two met in a metal clash. Ironbull swung the war club for Scars to stab a kunai in the wood and pushed it away while the second kunai flew for his head. Ironbull turned his head away to dodge the kunai and, with barred teeth, slammed his head into Scars'. The boy reeled back, and Ironbull swung the tetsubo with his good hand, sending the boy flying.
Scars rag dolled across the arena, feeling the splinters of wood digging deeper into his flesh, and shook his head to stabilize his vision only to see Ironbull's tetsubo coming down for his head. He jumped back, and his eyes glanced at the ground for a moment.
Ironbull pulled the war club up to swing it again, feeling the pain from his injured shoulder, when he noticed Scars pulling senbon out of his pouch. He flexed his muscles and angled the tetsubo just before they could pierce his neck.
It was then he heard,
"You need to rely less on that club and learn how to dodge."
The ground beneath Scars cracked and exploded as he all but teleported into range with a cocked arm with bulging veins. Ironbull moved the arm with the injured wrist in the way of the body shot.
Crack!
Before the pain could even hit, Ironbull knew that the bone in his arm had shattered. One thought passed through his mind—'chakra augmentation.'
A guttural and deep cry escaped Ironbull that was immediately cut off as—
Crack!
— Scars' other fist dug into Ironbull's torso, shattering ribs.
Ironbull coughed up blood as his vision blurred, and he began to feel faint. He tried to raise his tetsubo in front of him. His weapon, which had long since seized to feel heavy in his hands, now felt like it was being sucked into the ground.
Scars raised his leg and kicked Ironbull in the front, sending the larger man flying across the arena.
Sango watched from the fighter's tunnel as the metal gates opened, and Takuma walked out with the people slapping the mesh barriers as he walked past them. Most of them didn't look happy. She knew those angry people must've lost their money and feared that they would swarm him if the barriers gave away.
She was about to call out to him when she heard footsteps behind her, and her breath caught when she saw a fat man that looked like he was made of tires trod out from the shadow with two guards behind him.
She recognized him— Tsubura, the Ring's boss.
Tsubura glanced at her for half a moment before looking away at Takuma with a greasy smile.
"Ah, my proud boy, Scars. That was—"
Takuma cut him off the moment he stepped into the tunnel, "So much for balanced opponents, eh, boss," he spat and stepped close to Tsubura. The two guards stepped ahead between Takuma and Tsubura. Takuma continued, "My contract just ended, boss. And if you want me to continue fighting, then you either pay me more or— make these fights balanced!"
Tsubura's smile didn't even twitch as Takuma spewed the heated words.
"From what I can see, you're relatively uninjured while Ironbull is going through a tough time right about now," his smile turned greasier, and his eyes sharpened. "Maybe you're right, the fight was unbalanced— maybe we should've paired you against a tougher opponent. What do you say, boy?"
Takuma glared at Tsubura before walking away with heated steps.
Sango followed after him to the medical room, where the moment they entered, Takuma collapsed on the ground. Sango immediately locked the door and rushed to Takuma's side. Other than some bruises and wood splinters cutting into his flesh, Takuma was relatively uninjured.
It was his arms… they were trembling aggressively and had turned a worrying red. She looked down at his leg, and even though it was much better, she could see similar signs.
Sango, having seen this before, began the healing process with haste. "You idiot," she cursed as she removed his mask to help him breathe better. "Either figure it out already or stop using the augmentation."
It was almost every fight where she had to heal bruising, internal bleeding, bones with hairline fractures, or outright muscle tears. He had been using the chakra augmentations for months now, and after healing him so many times, she had realized what exactly Takuma had been doing. She had researched to make her job easier and had found that his ways were primitive. When she tried to make him give up, as she couldn't see it reaching a point where Takuma was envisioning it, he had ignored her advice and kept on using it.
"I-I… used it three times in a row," Takuma eeked out.
"What?"
"In a row," Takuma said again as his chest rose up and down. "I haven't been able to do it three times in a row."
As Sango looked up at Takuma's face, even though it was twitching with pain, there was a gritted smile on his face. She looked down at his arms only to notice that even though it had only been a minute... his arm was already looking stabilized.
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Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
- Location
- Tunisia
The payoff feels good (and the literal payoff for completing the contract)
Seems like he is getting how chakra augmentation works.
- Location
- Oklahoma
Reading this entire thing over two days, it was honestly a very entrenching read. We got to see the NPC life of starting from literal bottom, to now first story alley. Gotta get that drug money bby,
CH_3.28 (087)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
"This here is the mission scroll for a mission that will take us out of the village."
Iruka held up a deep royal blue scroll in front of a group of six genin who were part of Iruka's genin roster that he had chosen while working on a C-rank mission as a team leader. Takuma sat among the genin, gazing at the scroll. In the two years he had been in this world, the farthest he had gone was to the rural outskirts of the village and to the nearby wilderness for camping. This mission promised to take him out of the village— the prospect of that interested him greatly.
"This is a special mission… as in, another chunin and I will be leading two teams for this mission. Moreover, because of the nature of the patron's request, this mission is classified as a quadruple C-rank mission," Iruka gazed at all six genin, "which means with both teams in charge of two C-rank missions, you will be paid twice as much, and your record will reflect another two C-rank missions."
Takuma peeked at the other genin, their glimmering eyes and straightened posture showing their interest.
"And just like every mission we do, I need a team of three genin… who I'm going to choose from you six," said Iruka. "Who all is interested?"
Five out of six hands shot up in an instant. The one person who didn't raise their hand looked nervous, but Iruka didn't question them about it. Instead, Iruka continued, "Great, let's have quick one-on-one chats with everyone right now, and by the end of them, I will have the team decided"— but then he looked at Takuma— "You're coming on the mission, Takuma. I'll be choosing the other two from the remaining four."
Takuma felt others' eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on Iruka and graciously nodded, "I won't disappoint, sir." No matter how others felt about this sudden decision, he felt great about it.
"Before we start, may I have a word with you," Iruka said to Takuma. They walked to the roof's edge, where Iruka leaned his back against the rails as he spoke, "I hope you understand why I chose you like this."
Takuma said, "I've been on all but one C-rank mission you have floated for us," that one mission was Iruka trying out a different combination, "I don't see why this mission would be any different." None of the others have been on nearly as many missions as Takuma had been with Iruka.
Iruka smiled, "You've been effective and efficient in all the missions we have done together. I would be foolish if I didn't select you for every mission… And now that you're selected, I want you to pick the other two. Give me a reason, and I'll take it into consideration… Face them while you tell me."
Takuma quirked a brow, "Do you want them to hear me, sir?"
"I want them to know that we are talking about them— if they could hear us, good for them. How would you do it?"
Interesting, Takuma thought as he, too, leaned his back against the railings and faced the other genin.
"I would read the lips," replied Takuma. He had been developing his sense of hearing for Suiton: Kirigakure Jutsu, but his training involved picking up faint noises, the direction, and speed for locating them— not precise words and inflections.
"I didn't know you could lip-read. I can't do that. That's good to know," said Iruka, surprised and impressed.
He didn't have lip-reading on his resume (list of skills) that he had shown to Iruka when they had met, as he didn't have sufficient accuracy. The process of learning how to lip-read had been interesting—he got to know that only around 30% of the language was noticeable through sight. Too many words and syllables were so similar that one couldn't tell them by lip-reading alone. The words weren't so simple, and tics, mumbling, accents, and mouth covering made straight "reading" near impossible. Much of lip-reading was an observation of visual clues, context, and a healthy dash of guesswork.
For the last year, he had watched people's facial clues like tugging of the lips, movement of the brows, creases around the edges of the eyes, head movement, and their gaze, and the nuances and subtleties of body language such as their arms' locations, the position of their shoulder and hips, strong or slouching postures, and distance between people—to better 'understand' people from a distance when he couldn't hear them.
"What's the mission?" Takuma asked first—if he was to make a recommendation, he needed to know the specifics.
"Eradication of bandits terrorizing a village in the Land of Frost," said Iruka. Takuma was about to say something when Iruka continued, "but that's a front—the main mission is information trade with Hidden Frost Village shinobi."
Takuma quirked his brow. An information trade—just the sound of the mission intrigued him, and that too with another village's shinobi. He glanced at the genin, who were either sneaking glances or directly looking at them.
"Yumiko and Dai," he said.
"Why?"
"Dai knows how to follow orders, and I trust him to do his job. Yumiko is a great listener, and she collates on-point plans, which makes cooperation very comfortable."
"What about Ichimaru?"
Takuma matched eyes with Ichimaru, a genin who was only a couple of years older than Takuma, and clicked his tongue as he shook his head, "He is result-oriented and tries to lead, but he isn't willing to listen... And I personally don't like working with the fucking prick."
Ichimaru had his arms crossed and furrowed brows, but from the looks of it, he didn't look like he heard what Takuma said.
"Strong words," said Iruka, "unexpected from you."
Takuma shrugged, "I was trained to work with anyone," Maruboshi had been adamant about flexibility as an important trait for a shinobi, "but if I can influence the team structure, I will choose Dai and Yumiko—I work well with them."
"Anything else?" asked Iruka.
Takuma shook his head.
"Good," Iruka stepped away from the railings, "now, wave them all goodbye and get out of there. I don't want them to talk to you about what we discussed here."
Takuma peered at his chunin team lead, surprised. Today's Iruka was different. The Iruka he knew was a straight arrow, which Takuma found refreshing because a lot of people he talked to these days were all devious bastards — but the young chunin had a faint glimmer of trickery behind his eyes.
"As you wish, sir."
Takuma waved at the rest of the Iruka roster before falling backward over the roof railing and disappearing into the streets away from everyone's view.
——
.
Shisui flickered onto the top of Fourth Hokage's monument on the Hokage Rock, landing on one of the Fourth Hokage's hair spikes, and immediately stilled on the spot to let the ANBU guards hidden all around him take his presence in and relax so they wouldn't jump at him.
"Lord Hokage," he knelt down and announced his presence.
The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, gazed down at the village as it was being bathed by the red light from the sun falling from the sky. "The Fourth stood right here that night, facing the Nine-Tails attack, all alone. If that day he had let that ball of vicious hatred hit, we would've lost many more lives than we already lost," said Hiruzen. "He died saving the village that I had spent my entire life protecting... To this day, I regret that he died and an old man like me somehow continued to live."
Shisui continued to kneel as he silently listened. He remembered the day Nine-Tail had descended upon the village as if it were yesterday. The uncontrolled palpitations of his heart as he felt the heavy chakra and pure hatred bearing down on everyone and everything in the air were forever etched into his mind.
Hiruzen breathed deeply. "The conversation with Fugaku... didn't go well."
Shisui pursed his lips. Everyone across the village knew that the Hokage met with the Uchiha Clan Head today. He wasn't part of that meeting, but he did participate in the clan meeting that happened afterward.
The sentiment was shared by the Uchiha clan. The only thing the Uchiha had been remotely pleased about was that the Hokage had promised the Leaf Military Police Force an infusion of shinobi that would solely be controlled by the Police Force — and thus controlled by the Uchiha.
Did that mean that there was no choice but to do something extreme?
"Lord Third —"
"This village has taken so much from me." Hiruzen's words shocked Shisui. "This village robbed my mother's husband away from her... It made my wife wait uncountable nights all alone, worrying about her husband when he should've been with her... It stole away precious time that my children deserved with their father as they grew up... It took my wife from me... It took my sensei away from me... It took so many of my friends away... Because of this village, my youngest doesn't talk to me anymore... This village.... I have given my life to this village... Some days I wonder if all of it was worth it — and yet, for some reason, I love this village more than most things in my life," Hiruzen paused to take a breath. "I will not see this village fall on my watch. I will protect this village until my dying breath..."
He turned to Shisui, "And the Uchiha Clan is part of this village, Shisui. Today might not have gone well, but worry not, I will do everything in my power to keep this village intact and the Will of Fire burning strong—even if it's the last thing I do. So, do not worry, Shisui, we will find a way."
Shisui stared up at Sarutobi Hiruzen and couldn't remember the last time he had seen the man not in the traditional Hokage attire. Even now, Shisui could tell that the man in front of him, at his age, was ready for battle under that attire. In that moment, he became cognizant of the fact that this man had fought in three shinobi wars for the village.
He wondered if he could continue to serve the village for such a long time... He didn't have an answer for it.
Shisui opened his mouth, wanting to continue what he was trying to say before, but closed it after a thought. He stood up, "I'll provide any support from myself to make that come true, Lord Hokage. Please don't hesitate to ask."
The man in front of him had spent too long worrying about the village and was still doing it right now. Right now, he would support all efforts towards peace.
And, in case everything failed and things didn't improve for the better—
'I'm going to make peace, even if it means that I have to force it on this village.'
———
.
AN [1]: I like writing the Uchiha Coup D'état from Shisui's POV. I feel like in ways, he was the most prominent among all of the people involved. If Shisui hadn't died, Itachi wouldn't have become the piece and participant he eventually became.
[2]: I rarely consider a character to be 100% Evil/Bad. Unlike a lot of fanfiction, I like Hiruzen enough— he's not perfect, but he's aight. However, after I was done writing the Hiruzen dialog in the middle— I realized from a certain angle, it could seem that he was putting on an emotional performance to gain Shisui's permanent allegiance so that he would have that double spy. And who knows, maybe somewhere that was his purpose. That was an interesting thought. Or was that what I intended from the get go?
[3]: In the manga, we don't see Hiruzen's wife Biwako killed by Obito— she died in the anime. And after thinking about it, I have decided for this fic, she's dead. Obito wouldn't have left anyone behind.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
Iruka held up a deep royal blue scroll in front of a group of six genin who were part of Iruka's genin roster that he had chosen while working on a C-rank mission as a team leader. Takuma sat among the genin, gazing at the scroll. In the two years he had been in this world, the farthest he had gone was to the rural outskirts of the village and to the nearby wilderness for camping. This mission promised to take him out of the village— the prospect of that interested him greatly.
"This is a special mission… as in, another chunin and I will be leading two teams for this mission. Moreover, because of the nature of the patron's request, this mission is classified as a quadruple C-rank mission," Iruka gazed at all six genin, "which means with both teams in charge of two C-rank missions, you will be paid twice as much, and your record will reflect another two C-rank missions."
Takuma peeked at the other genin, their glimmering eyes and straightened posture showing their interest.
"And just like every mission we do, I need a team of three genin… who I'm going to choose from you six," said Iruka. "Who all is interested?"
Five out of six hands shot up in an instant. The one person who didn't raise their hand looked nervous, but Iruka didn't question them about it. Instead, Iruka continued, "Great, let's have quick one-on-one chats with everyone right now, and by the end of them, I will have the team decided"— but then he looked at Takuma— "You're coming on the mission, Takuma. I'll be choosing the other two from the remaining four."
Takuma felt others' eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on Iruka and graciously nodded, "I won't disappoint, sir." No matter how others felt about this sudden decision, he felt great about it.
"Before we start, may I have a word with you," Iruka said to Takuma. They walked to the roof's edge, where Iruka leaned his back against the rails as he spoke, "I hope you understand why I chose you like this."
Takuma said, "I've been on all but one C-rank mission you have floated for us," that one mission was Iruka trying out a different combination, "I don't see why this mission would be any different." None of the others have been on nearly as many missions as Takuma had been with Iruka.
Iruka smiled, "You've been effective and efficient in all the missions we have done together. I would be foolish if I didn't select you for every mission… And now that you're selected, I want you to pick the other two. Give me a reason, and I'll take it into consideration… Face them while you tell me."
Takuma quirked a brow, "Do you want them to hear me, sir?"
"I want them to know that we are talking about them— if they could hear us, good for them. How would you do it?"
Interesting, Takuma thought as he, too, leaned his back against the railings and faced the other genin.
"I would read the lips," replied Takuma. He had been developing his sense of hearing for Suiton: Kirigakure Jutsu, but his training involved picking up faint noises, the direction, and speed for locating them— not precise words and inflections.
"I didn't know you could lip-read. I can't do that. That's good to know," said Iruka, surprised and impressed.
He didn't have lip-reading on his resume (list of skills) that he had shown to Iruka when they had met, as he didn't have sufficient accuracy. The process of learning how to lip-read had been interesting—he got to know that only around 30% of the language was noticeable through sight. Too many words and syllables were so similar that one couldn't tell them by lip-reading alone. The words weren't so simple, and tics, mumbling, accents, and mouth covering made straight "reading" near impossible. Much of lip-reading was an observation of visual clues, context, and a healthy dash of guesswork.
For the last year, he had watched people's facial clues like tugging of the lips, movement of the brows, creases around the edges of the eyes, head movement, and their gaze, and the nuances and subtleties of body language such as their arms' locations, the position of their shoulder and hips, strong or slouching postures, and distance between people—to better 'understand' people from a distance when he couldn't hear them.
"What's the mission?" Takuma asked first—if he was to make a recommendation, he needed to know the specifics.
"Eradication of bandits terrorizing a village in the Land of Frost," said Iruka. Takuma was about to say something when Iruka continued, "but that's a front—the main mission is information trade with Hidden Frost Village shinobi."
Takuma quirked his brow. An information trade—just the sound of the mission intrigued him, and that too with another village's shinobi. He glanced at the genin, who were either sneaking glances or directly looking at them.
"Yumiko and Dai," he said.
"Why?"
"Dai knows how to follow orders, and I trust him to do his job. Yumiko is a great listener, and she collates on-point plans, which makes cooperation very comfortable."
"What about Ichimaru?"
Takuma matched eyes with Ichimaru, a genin who was only a couple of years older than Takuma, and clicked his tongue as he shook his head, "He is result-oriented and tries to lead, but he isn't willing to listen... And I personally don't like working with the fucking prick."
Ichimaru had his arms crossed and furrowed brows, but from the looks of it, he didn't look like he heard what Takuma said.
"Strong words," said Iruka, "unexpected from you."
Takuma shrugged, "I was trained to work with anyone," Maruboshi had been adamant about flexibility as an important trait for a shinobi, "but if I can influence the team structure, I will choose Dai and Yumiko—I work well with them."
"Anything else?" asked Iruka.
Takuma shook his head.
"Good," Iruka stepped away from the railings, "now, wave them all goodbye and get out of there. I don't want them to talk to you about what we discussed here."
Takuma peered at his chunin team lead, surprised. Today's Iruka was different. The Iruka he knew was a straight arrow, which Takuma found refreshing because a lot of people he talked to these days were all devious bastards — but the young chunin had a faint glimmer of trickery behind his eyes.
"As you wish, sir."
Takuma waved at the rest of the Iruka roster before falling backward over the roof railing and disappearing into the streets away from everyone's view.
——
.
Shisui flickered onto the top of Fourth Hokage's monument on the Hokage Rock, landing on one of the Fourth Hokage's hair spikes, and immediately stilled on the spot to let the ANBU guards hidden all around him take his presence in and relax so they wouldn't jump at him.
"Lord Hokage," he knelt down and announced his presence.
The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, gazed down at the village as it was being bathed by the red light from the sun falling from the sky. "The Fourth stood right here that night, facing the Nine-Tails attack, all alone. If that day he had let that ball of vicious hatred hit, we would've lost many more lives than we already lost," said Hiruzen. "He died saving the village that I had spent my entire life protecting... To this day, I regret that he died and an old man like me somehow continued to live."
Shisui continued to kneel as he silently listened. He remembered the day Nine-Tail had descended upon the village as if it were yesterday. The uncontrolled palpitations of his heart as he felt the heavy chakra and pure hatred bearing down on everyone and everything in the air were forever etched into his mind.
Hiruzen breathed deeply. "The conversation with Fugaku... didn't go well."
Shisui pursed his lips. Everyone across the village knew that the Hokage met with the Uchiha Clan Head today. He wasn't part of that meeting, but he did participate in the clan meeting that happened afterward.
The sentiment was shared by the Uchiha clan. The only thing the Uchiha had been remotely pleased about was that the Hokage had promised the Leaf Military Police Force an infusion of shinobi that would solely be controlled by the Police Force — and thus controlled by the Uchiha.
Did that mean that there was no choice but to do something extreme?
"Lord Third —"
"This village has taken so much from me." Hiruzen's words shocked Shisui. "This village robbed my mother's husband away from her... It made my wife wait uncountable nights all alone, worrying about her husband when he should've been with her... It stole away precious time that my children deserved with their father as they grew up... It took my wife from me... It took my sensei away from me... It took so many of my friends away... Because of this village, my youngest doesn't talk to me anymore... This village.... I have given my life to this village... Some days I wonder if all of it was worth it — and yet, for some reason, I love this village more than most things in my life," Hiruzen paused to take a breath. "I will not see this village fall on my watch. I will protect this village until my dying breath..."
He turned to Shisui, "And the Uchiha Clan is part of this village, Shisui. Today might not have gone well, but worry not, I will do everything in my power to keep this village intact and the Will of Fire burning strong—even if it's the last thing I do. So, do not worry, Shisui, we will find a way."
Shisui stared up at Sarutobi Hiruzen and couldn't remember the last time he had seen the man not in the traditional Hokage attire. Even now, Shisui could tell that the man in front of him, at his age, was ready for battle under that attire. In that moment, he became cognizant of the fact that this man had fought in three shinobi wars for the village.
He wondered if he could continue to serve the village for such a long time... He didn't have an answer for it.
Shisui opened his mouth, wanting to continue what he was trying to say before, but closed it after a thought. He stood up, "I'll provide any support from myself to make that come true, Lord Hokage. Please don't hesitate to ask."
The man in front of him had spent too long worrying about the village and was still doing it right now. Right now, he would support all efforts towards peace.
And, in case everything failed and things didn't improve for the better—
'I'm going to make peace, even if it means that I have to force it on this village.'
———
.
AN [1]: I like writing the Uchiha Coup D'état from Shisui's POV. I feel like in ways, he was the most prominent among all of the people involved. If Shisui hadn't died, Itachi wouldn't have become the piece and participant he eventually became.
[2]: I rarely consider a character to be 100% Evil/Bad. Unlike a lot of fanfiction, I like Hiruzen enough— he's not perfect, but he's aight. However, after I was done writing the Hiruzen dialog in the middle— I realized from a certain angle, it could seem that he was putting on an emotional performance to gain Shisui's permanent allegiance so that he would have that double spy. And who knows, maybe somewhere that was his purpose. That was an interesting thought. Or was that what I intended from the get go?
[3]: In the manga, we don't see Hiruzen's wife Biwako killed by Obito— she died in the anime. And after thinking about it, I have decided for this fic, she's dead. Obito wouldn't have left anyone behind.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
CH_3.29 (088)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
Seeing it three times didn't make Tsubura's office and his face any less ugly or gaudy. One would need to be either blind or willfully ignorant to disregard the obnoxious tackiness.
"At least the chairs are comfortable," Takuma thought as he sat down across from Tsubura and placed his mask on the table between them.
"People are talking about you now," Tsubura's mirthful gaze had a flash of amusement in them. "Kids are beating bags for other fighters, and an easy-to-palate one-sided beatdown for everyone to enjoy…." Takuma didn't hide his displeasure—the connotation was clear; they expected him to be a 'beating bag' when he was signed. "… but look at you— Scars, the kid with a rookie record that is compared with the greats, as they say. How much was it? 41-31? It's great—"
"42-30," Takuma interrupted. His record wasn't the cream of the crop, but his record told a promising tale for a rookie. As for the so-called greats, there were many. The Ring was an underground fighting scene for genin— who knew how many of them made it to chunin.
Tsubura cackled deeply, "And I thought you to be a fool to reject the Troupe, but it seems to be working for you. Scars with no friends. He comes into the arena, fights, and then leaves. So boring, but gives you a kid like you a particular charm."
Takuma was again reminded that the unbearable man in front of him was the Ring's boss.
"You so unexpectedly defeated Ironbull. It was a great upset and, thus, a brilliant fight! Many eyes will be looking at you now, and I'm sure it will bring similar offers as that of the Troupe, but if you rejected the Troupe, I don't see you accepting others." Troupe was one of the oldest and most successful crews in the Ring. For many, rejecting them was a fool's choice.
"My contract is officially over," Takuma swerved the conversation to the point. He didn't want to make small talk with Tsubura.
"Let's talk business then," Tsubura rapped his meaty, gold-ringed fingers on the table. "Looking at your performance, I say that the standard second contract will do good. It'll increase your payout per fight, but for it, you'll have to commit for an entire year, and I'll have you stay in the weapons category as you're doing well in it."
"I want to move into the ninjutsu category," Takuma said.
"I can't give you that," Tsubura rejected promptly. "You have to be in the Ring for a certain amount of time and build a reputation worthy enough to be in the ninjutsu category."
The ninjutsu category was the Ring's most prestigious category. It was the place where the top talents gathered. The shinobi fighters could use their complete skillset during the fights in the ninjutsu category. It was also the category with the most spectacle and, thus, the fights that the audience was most interested in watching. And for Takuma, most importantly, the ninjutsu category paid by far the most.
Takuma said, "I'm not asking to join immediately."
He knew he wasn't ready for the ninjutsu category because Ring's ninjutsu category had special rules. Two of those special rules that concerned Takuma were: no genjutsu and no jutsu that obstructed the audience's view.
The no genjutsu rule was because it made the fights boring for the audience. Similarly, jutsu that obstructed the audience's view made watching unfeasible. Those two rules eliminated two of Takuma's D-rank jutsu—Genjutsu: Mist Servant Jutsu and Water Release: Hidden Mist Jutsu.
Without Water Release: Hidden Mist Jutsu, Earth Release: Earth Tremor Sense Jutsu was mostly useless.
Lightning Release: Shock was his weakest jutsu, something he wasn't proficient in. His only offensive jutsu being his weakest wasn't optimal at all.
Leaving him with one good option in the form of Earth Release: Earth Dome.
"I want you to give me a chance at the ninjutsu category at the six-month mark," said Takuma. He wasn't ready now, but he could be in six months.
Tsubura's fingers rapped on the table again. The sound of gold hitting wood echoed in the room. "...What will you give me for it?" asked Tsubura. This was a negotiation; if Takuma wanted something, he needed to give something back.
"Five fights every two weeks," said Takuma. The three-fights-per-week contract was exploitative; it made a Ring fighter's life tough with injuries and time management, which was why the fighters reduced the number of fights to two fights per week during the second contract. Takuma was offering 26 more fights in the one-year commitment that Tsubura was asking of him.
"Not enough," Tsubura said.
"...I'll participate in the 2v1 category."
Takuma's words seemed to do the trick as Tsubura leaned forward.
The 2v1 category was widely unpopular as no fighter was winning much more difficult with double the opponents. And losing didn't give any mission points or ryo. So it made no sense for Ring fighters to participate, and thus it was close to a dead category—nothing was to be said about 3v1 and the desolate 4v1 category.
2v1 was yet another type of spectacle, and from what Takuma had gathered, another fighter in the category would be very good for the Ring as it would bring in more people to watch, make risky bets, and lose money—and that was his offering.
"I'll only give you this if the 2v1 fights are a minority, and I mainly participate in the weapons and taijutsu categories," said Takuma. He still wanted to earn mission points, and he wasn't delusional enough to believe that fighting in the 2v1 category wouldn't decrease his winning percentage.
"Oh, you beautiful child, you have yourself a fabulous deal," Tsubura smiled.
———
.
"Here, here," Ai raised a glass of cola and gathered the table's attention. "A propose a toast to Takuma and his first mission outside the village. The baby bird is finally leaving home."
Takuma raised the glass, as did Nenro, Masaaki, and Taro. In celebration of Takuma's upcoming C-rank mission, Ai threw a party at the trio's house. The house was their meeting location when they didn't want to go out—Taro's home had his parents, and Takuma's was small (and had the product).
"I'll bring gifts for you children," said Takuma with a smile.
"So, what's the mission," asked Taro, picking up a chicken drumstick from the spread.
"Bandit clean-up in the Land of Frost," said Takuma, piling the food on his plate.
"Land of Frost is far, isn't it?" Nenro asked. "And they have their own Hidden Village; I wonder why the client asked our village."
"That's right, actually. If you think about it, isn't the Hidden Cloud a better option for them?" said Taro. Land of Frost shared a border with Land of Lightning—while Land of Fire and Land of Frost had Land of Hot Waters between them.
Takuma took out the mission briefing scroll he had been carrying around to read in his free time and tossed it to Nenro. Taro leaned to look at it as well while Nenro opened the scroll. Unlike many B-rank missions, and all A-rank missions— C-rank missions didn't have confidentiality clause attached to them.
"… Information trade?" Nenro muttered.
"Oh, so it's a cover mission for another objective. That's a good mission right there," said Taro. "This double team situation is also interesting."
"It's neat, right?" grinned Takuma. The mission actually sounded like a shinobi mission.
"You'll get to meet foreign shinobi as well," said Ai, who was reading from over Nenro's shoulder. "I saw a convoy from the Hidden Sand last month from a distance. Their gear was different from ours, just like it said in the textbooks." Genin like them didn't get to see foreign shinobi.
"Any idea what kind of information you're going to trade?" asked Nenro, still reading through the mission scroll.
Takuma shook his head. "That's the chunin's business. The genin are on a need-to-know basis. And I'm not curious—it might be above my pay grade, and I don't want to get into trouble by poking my nose somewhere." His aspirations with the mission were to complete it as smoothly as any other and do some sightseeing on the way.
"Masaaki, what do you think?" Takuma asked Masaaki, who was shoveling food in his mouth.
Masaaki looked up and gave a thumbs-up. "You get to beat up some bandits, nice!"
Takuma shook his head. Of course, that was what interested Masaaki the most.
"Looks like you got a nice chunin to serve under," said Taro.
Takuma nodded in deep agreement. As a team leader and mission provider, Iruka was a great option. He glanced at Nenro, who had told them that he was working under three chunin as all of them had too big of rosters and couldn't provide C-rank missions on a consistent basis—as such, Nenro had to get them from multiple sources.
The fact that Takuma didn't have to seek another chunin showed how well he and Iruka worked together.
"I'm lucky to have come into contact with a new chunin," said Takuma. Iruka had only been a chunin as long as Takuma had been a genin. "I was literally the first addition to his roster. Things could've gone differently if he had been more experienced and had an established roster."
Ai said, "Don't cut yourself short like that. Fortune favors the prepared—you got a chance, and you grabbed it. Give yourself some credit. Don't you think so, Nenro?"
"Huh, what?" Nenro looked up from the mission scroll. "A young chunin is a great find. Umino Iruka, was it—he isn't from a clan, correct?"
"His parents were shinobi, but he doesn't come from a clan," answered Takuma. Parents that had died in the Nine-Tail attack.
"You were really fortunate then. If he had been from a clan, the roster would've been his clanmates. Four of the chunin I know solely work with their clanmates," Nenro sighed.
"Don't worry, guys; when I make chunin, you all will be on my roster," said Masaaki, raising a drumstick.
"Cheers to that," Takuma raised his glass.
———
.
Takuma turned onto the street to arrive at the decided meeting place and saw a group of people already there. He saw Iruka, Yumiko, and Dai, along with four others. He was on time, but it seemed he was the last one to arrive.
"Good morning," he greeted as he joined his fellow genin.
"Let's do a basic introduction before we leave," Iruka struck a conversation. "We will have a lot of time to get to know each other on the way."
Iruka started, and his genin followed. As they were introducing themselves, Takuma noticed a flash of displeasure in the other chunin's eyes. It was barely noticeable, but he was able to clock it. It made him wonder if they did something wrong.
"Shimura Raiden," said the other chunin. The man had shaggy black hair and a resting mean face. He didn't wear a standard uniform and was instead dressed in a black muscle shirt, baggy grey pants, and a set of matching wrist guards.
'A clan chunin,' thought Takuma and looked at the genin to see if they bore a physical resemblance to the man, but they looked different.
"Izuno Aya," said the girl who looked like a lithe cat with pale skin and dark hair.
Takuma recognized the clan's name. Izuno was a low-level clan in the Leaf village that practiced a special form of taijutsu.
"Onikuma Yuko," said the next girl. She was a brunette tomboy with green eyes.
Takuma was surprised. The Onikuma clan practiced a hiden-jutsu that was said to give them a tremendous boost in physical capabilities. He didn't know the exact details as he had never witnessed it.
"Aburame Susumu," said the final genin. Takuma didn't need the name to recognize that the guy in front of him was an Aburame because every single person from that clan wore some sort of eyewear.
'… All of them are clan shinobi,' thought Takuma.
———
.
AN [1]: I'm writing this because it came up when I first released this chapter on Patrèon, it raised some questions. C-rank missions don't have a confidentiality clause agreement attached to them due to the fact that they're a level above D-rank missions, which are just essentially odd jobs and such. I added a line in the chapter itself, but it felt strange— but, it's there now.
AN [2]: So… the release had been slow for the past two weeks. It's because of the slow start to ARC-04. It's a different setting, and I'm not able to give it depth as quickly as I'd like— which makes writing slow because I don't know where I'm heading. The moment I have the new setting fitted in my mind, the writing pace will increase.
AN [3]: Most jutsu will be now in English, except for those with with iconic names. It was lowering the readability with how it was before.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
"At least the chairs are comfortable," Takuma thought as he sat down across from Tsubura and placed his mask on the table between them.
"People are talking about you now," Tsubura's mirthful gaze had a flash of amusement in them. "Kids are beating bags for other fighters, and an easy-to-palate one-sided beatdown for everyone to enjoy…." Takuma didn't hide his displeasure—the connotation was clear; they expected him to be a 'beating bag' when he was signed. "… but look at you— Scars, the kid with a rookie record that is compared with the greats, as they say. How much was it? 41-31? It's great—"
"42-30," Takuma interrupted. His record wasn't the cream of the crop, but his record told a promising tale for a rookie. As for the so-called greats, there were many. The Ring was an underground fighting scene for genin— who knew how many of them made it to chunin.
Tsubura cackled deeply, "And I thought you to be a fool to reject the Troupe, but it seems to be working for you. Scars with no friends. He comes into the arena, fights, and then leaves. So boring, but gives you a kid like you a particular charm."
Takuma was again reminded that the unbearable man in front of him was the Ring's boss.
"You so unexpectedly defeated Ironbull. It was a great upset and, thus, a brilliant fight! Many eyes will be looking at you now, and I'm sure it will bring similar offers as that of the Troupe, but if you rejected the Troupe, I don't see you accepting others." Troupe was one of the oldest and most successful crews in the Ring. For many, rejecting them was a fool's choice.
"My contract is officially over," Takuma swerved the conversation to the point. He didn't want to make small talk with Tsubura.
"Let's talk business then," Tsubura rapped his meaty, gold-ringed fingers on the table. "Looking at your performance, I say that the standard second contract will do good. It'll increase your payout per fight, but for it, you'll have to commit for an entire year, and I'll have you stay in the weapons category as you're doing well in it."
"I want to move into the ninjutsu category," Takuma said.
"I can't give you that," Tsubura rejected promptly. "You have to be in the Ring for a certain amount of time and build a reputation worthy enough to be in the ninjutsu category."
The ninjutsu category was the Ring's most prestigious category. It was the place where the top talents gathered. The shinobi fighters could use their complete skillset during the fights in the ninjutsu category. It was also the category with the most spectacle and, thus, the fights that the audience was most interested in watching. And for Takuma, most importantly, the ninjutsu category paid by far the most.
Takuma said, "I'm not asking to join immediately."
He knew he wasn't ready for the ninjutsu category because Ring's ninjutsu category had special rules. Two of those special rules that concerned Takuma were: no genjutsu and no jutsu that obstructed the audience's view.
The no genjutsu rule was because it made the fights boring for the audience. Similarly, jutsu that obstructed the audience's view made watching unfeasible. Those two rules eliminated two of Takuma's D-rank jutsu—Genjutsu: Mist Servant Jutsu and Water Release: Hidden Mist Jutsu.
Without Water Release: Hidden Mist Jutsu, Earth Release: Earth Tremor Sense Jutsu was mostly useless.
Lightning Release: Shock was his weakest jutsu, something he wasn't proficient in. His only offensive jutsu being his weakest wasn't optimal at all.
Leaving him with one good option in the form of Earth Release: Earth Dome.
"I want you to give me a chance at the ninjutsu category at the six-month mark," said Takuma. He wasn't ready now, but he could be in six months.
Tsubura's fingers rapped on the table again. The sound of gold hitting wood echoed in the room. "...What will you give me for it?" asked Tsubura. This was a negotiation; if Takuma wanted something, he needed to give something back.
"Five fights every two weeks," said Takuma. The three-fights-per-week contract was exploitative; it made a Ring fighter's life tough with injuries and time management, which was why the fighters reduced the number of fights to two fights per week during the second contract. Takuma was offering 26 more fights in the one-year commitment that Tsubura was asking of him.
"Not enough," Tsubura said.
"...I'll participate in the 2v1 category."
Takuma's words seemed to do the trick as Tsubura leaned forward.
The 2v1 category was widely unpopular as no fighter was winning much more difficult with double the opponents. And losing didn't give any mission points or ryo. So it made no sense for Ring fighters to participate, and thus it was close to a dead category—nothing was to be said about 3v1 and the desolate 4v1 category.
2v1 was yet another type of spectacle, and from what Takuma had gathered, another fighter in the category would be very good for the Ring as it would bring in more people to watch, make risky bets, and lose money—and that was his offering.
"I'll only give you this if the 2v1 fights are a minority, and I mainly participate in the weapons and taijutsu categories," said Takuma. He still wanted to earn mission points, and he wasn't delusional enough to believe that fighting in the 2v1 category wouldn't decrease his winning percentage.
"Oh, you beautiful child, you have yourself a fabulous deal," Tsubura smiled.
———
.
"Here, here," Ai raised a glass of cola and gathered the table's attention. "A propose a toast to Takuma and his first mission outside the village. The baby bird is finally leaving home."
Takuma raised the glass, as did Nenro, Masaaki, and Taro. In celebration of Takuma's upcoming C-rank mission, Ai threw a party at the trio's house. The house was their meeting location when they didn't want to go out—Taro's home had his parents, and Takuma's was small (and had the product).
"I'll bring gifts for you children," said Takuma with a smile.
"So, what's the mission," asked Taro, picking up a chicken drumstick from the spread.
"Bandit clean-up in the Land of Frost," said Takuma, piling the food on his plate.
"Land of Frost is far, isn't it?" Nenro asked. "And they have their own Hidden Village; I wonder why the client asked our village."
"That's right, actually. If you think about it, isn't the Hidden Cloud a better option for them?" said Taro. Land of Frost shared a border with Land of Lightning—while Land of Fire and Land of Frost had Land of Hot Waters between them.
Takuma took out the mission briefing scroll he had been carrying around to read in his free time and tossed it to Nenro. Taro leaned to look at it as well while Nenro opened the scroll. Unlike many B-rank missions, and all A-rank missions— C-rank missions didn't have confidentiality clause attached to them.
"… Information trade?" Nenro muttered.
"Oh, so it's a cover mission for another objective. That's a good mission right there," said Taro. "This double team situation is also interesting."
"It's neat, right?" grinned Takuma. The mission actually sounded like a shinobi mission.
"You'll get to meet foreign shinobi as well," said Ai, who was reading from over Nenro's shoulder. "I saw a convoy from the Hidden Sand last month from a distance. Their gear was different from ours, just like it said in the textbooks." Genin like them didn't get to see foreign shinobi.
"Any idea what kind of information you're going to trade?" asked Nenro, still reading through the mission scroll.
Takuma shook his head. "That's the chunin's business. The genin are on a need-to-know basis. And I'm not curious—it might be above my pay grade, and I don't want to get into trouble by poking my nose somewhere." His aspirations with the mission were to complete it as smoothly as any other and do some sightseeing on the way.
"Masaaki, what do you think?" Takuma asked Masaaki, who was shoveling food in his mouth.
Masaaki looked up and gave a thumbs-up. "You get to beat up some bandits, nice!"
Takuma shook his head. Of course, that was what interested Masaaki the most.
"Looks like you got a nice chunin to serve under," said Taro.
Takuma nodded in deep agreement. As a team leader and mission provider, Iruka was a great option. He glanced at Nenro, who had told them that he was working under three chunin as all of them had too big of rosters and couldn't provide C-rank missions on a consistent basis—as such, Nenro had to get them from multiple sources.
The fact that Takuma didn't have to seek another chunin showed how well he and Iruka worked together.
"I'm lucky to have come into contact with a new chunin," said Takuma. Iruka had only been a chunin as long as Takuma had been a genin. "I was literally the first addition to his roster. Things could've gone differently if he had been more experienced and had an established roster."
Ai said, "Don't cut yourself short like that. Fortune favors the prepared—you got a chance, and you grabbed it. Give yourself some credit. Don't you think so, Nenro?"
"Huh, what?" Nenro looked up from the mission scroll. "A young chunin is a great find. Umino Iruka, was it—he isn't from a clan, correct?"
"His parents were shinobi, but he doesn't come from a clan," answered Takuma. Parents that had died in the Nine-Tail attack.
"You were really fortunate then. If he had been from a clan, the roster would've been his clanmates. Four of the chunin I know solely work with their clanmates," Nenro sighed.
"Don't worry, guys; when I make chunin, you all will be on my roster," said Masaaki, raising a drumstick.
"Cheers to that," Takuma raised his glass.
———
.
Takuma turned onto the street to arrive at the decided meeting place and saw a group of people already there. He saw Iruka, Yumiko, and Dai, along with four others. He was on time, but it seemed he was the last one to arrive.
"Good morning," he greeted as he joined his fellow genin.
"Let's do a basic introduction before we leave," Iruka struck a conversation. "We will have a lot of time to get to know each other on the way."
Iruka started, and his genin followed. As they were introducing themselves, Takuma noticed a flash of displeasure in the other chunin's eyes. It was barely noticeable, but he was able to clock it. It made him wonder if they did something wrong.
"Shimura Raiden," said the other chunin. The man had shaggy black hair and a resting mean face. He didn't wear a standard uniform and was instead dressed in a black muscle shirt, baggy grey pants, and a set of matching wrist guards.
'A clan chunin,' thought Takuma and looked at the genin to see if they bore a physical resemblance to the man, but they looked different.
"Izuno Aya," said the girl who looked like a lithe cat with pale skin and dark hair.
Takuma recognized the clan's name. Izuno was a low-level clan in the Leaf village that practiced a special form of taijutsu.
"Onikuma Yuko," said the next girl. She was a brunette tomboy with green eyes.
Takuma was surprised. The Onikuma clan practiced a hiden-jutsu that was said to give them a tremendous boost in physical capabilities. He didn't know the exact details as he had never witnessed it.
"Aburame Susumu," said the final genin. Takuma didn't need the name to recognize that the guy in front of him was an Aburame because every single person from that clan wore some sort of eyewear.
'… All of them are clan shinobi,' thought Takuma.
———
.
AN [1]: I'm writing this because it came up when I first released this chapter on Patrèon, it raised some questions. C-rank missions don't have a confidentiality clause agreement attached to them due to the fact that they're a level above D-rank missions, which are just essentially odd jobs and such. I added a line in the chapter itself, but it felt strange— but, it's there now.
AN [2]: So… the release had been slow for the past two weeks. It's because of the slow start to ARC-04. It's a different setting, and I'm not able to give it depth as quickly as I'd like— which makes writing slow because I don't know where I'm heading. The moment I have the new setting fitted in my mind, the writing pace will increase.
AN [3]: Most jutsu will be now in English, except for those with with iconic names. It was lowering the readability with how it was before.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
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Don't worry if the chapters are slow the quality is more important and yours is way better than most I've seen in some times.
Other than that cheers for takuma's going outside! If I remember the land of frost is the one located in snowy area with the village in the foot of a mountain, I could be wrong tho. And he seems like he has a permanent spot in Iruka's team that's nice.
Other than that cheers for takuma's going outside! If I remember the land of frost is the one located in snowy area with the village in the foot of a mountain, I could be wrong tho. And he seems like he has a permanent spot in Iruka's team that's nice.
A concerning start to the mission. Betting man says that Ichimaru was a clan kid also, and Takuma inadvertently made himself the odd man out here. At least he has Iruka on his side.
As for the arena... Well, 5 fights biweekly is better than six, and he'll be making more money, but I feel like it doesn't solve the issue of how thin his profit margins are with getting healed so often.
As for the arena... Well, 5 fights biweekly is better than six, and he'll be making more money, but I feel like it doesn't solve the issue of how thin his profit margins are with getting healed so often.
It does not seem wise from an operational standpoint for Takuma to reveal to his friends the true nature of his mission. the fact that the village gave it a cover story makes it seem like they want it to be kept under wraps. also gossiping about your missions with your friends is a bad habit that you should avoid in general