SGM - Chapter 6

“… Five minutes left,” Yaeko’s voice called out to me from the stump.

This time, as focused as I was on my inner chakra, I didn’t bother responding.

For what felt like the umpteenth time in the last half an hour, I ran through each hand seal slowly, one by one, focusing all of my attention on the chakra flowing through me. Like all those days ago, when I’d practiced my tree walking by engaging my chakra with the ram seal, there was no sort of ‘chakra vision’ that allowed me to see what I was doing… But my control had grown to the point where it was an instinctive act to move it freely through my body. It responded immediately to my will, gathering with minimal fuss in whatever cluster of tenketsu I directed the energy towards.

More importantly, it gave me a definite edge when it came to Nature Transformation.

The process of transforming raw, natural chakra into that of an elemental nature - it was an advanced technique; one that most clanless genin began learning a year or two into their new careers, depending on their natural talent and the will of their sensei. According to Yaeko, it was a combination of Nature Transformation and Shape Transformation - the changing and controlling of your chakra’s form, movement, and potency - that allowed a shinobi to develop their own techniques, or modify existing ones. She didn’t explain it that… fluently, but I got the gist.

My slurry of talent and intelligence boosters filled in the rest.

To a degree, experience in both of these advanced applications of chakra wasn’t necessary. In the first ten minutes of me attempting to master this jutsu, I’d played around with the process of Shape Transformation, sending more chakra through to my lungs in a probing attempt to belch out more flames, but that just had me coughing up smoke and bile.

It was more than that. 

I wasn’t expected to change the fundamentals of how a jutsu works on my first time performing it. No one was, regardless of their supposed genius or talent. Shape Transformation, at its base form, was a natural process that was taught to us as children attempting to learn the Henge technique. That instinctive process I mentioned before, where I moved my chakra through my body, flooding my limbs and sliding it through different tenketsu? That was a form of Shape Transformation - a very, very basic form. 

The shaping of my chakra. The movement of it. And for a D rank technique like the Seika no Jutsu, I was utilizing the complicated aspects of Nature Transformation more than I was the complicated aspects of Shape Transformation. I realized this with fifteen minutes to spare.

The hand-seals, for now, were some of the most important pieces of basic elemental jutsu. They were crutches - ways to help direct, mold and control your chakra in a way that significantly lessens the difficulty to a degree where ninjutsu is actually feasible to perform. I was one hundred percent certain that, one day, I’d be able to cut down my reliance on them piece by piece until my chakra control made the crutches unnecessary… but today was not that day.

Attempting this entire process without hand seals was like attempting to eat a pot of soup with a four-pronged fork. 

Not impossible, but extremely time consuming and inefficient.

‘Fortunately,’ I thought, slowly and purposefully sliding my fingers into the first seal, ‘I think I get it now.’

Snake. The instant my fingers were in position, palms clasped and fingers completely interlocked, I felt my chakra surge. It rushed through my pathways, eager and excited to mold itself to my will, and the Snake seal made it easier to control in a more precise manner. There was no Nature Transformation in this step, but that beginner level of Shape Transformation - not unlike when I utilized the Ram seal to direct chakra to my feet - was paramount here. This was the foundation of the technique. It was warm and comfortable as I moved it up through my stomach and towards my lungs, where it rested, heavy and pliable. Raw fuel.

And then my hands shifted, with ease and familiarity.

Ram.

The seal tried to guide me, subtly directing my chakra towards the bare minimum of what it was supposed to be doing for the technique, but surrendering completely to the railroads of hand seals was not the way you truly mastered a technique. I coasted with it, accepting its guidance but taking complete control of my chakra with my own will and effort. 

This was the start of the Nature Transformation aspect; Friction. According to Yaeko, the basis of transforming your internal chakra into fire was by priming the energy into such a state where it would take only the barest of sparks to ignite it into an unquenchable inferno. She hadn’t explained it in such a dramatic way, of course - truthfully, she’d just awkwardly instructed me to try ‘rubbing my chakra together like sticks’, but I imagine I now had some subconscious inclination for dramatics due to a few of my Perks.

As it stood, ‘rubbing my chakra together like sticks’ was not a bad analogy to use, as friction was the primer needed to properly transform your chakra into fire.

My Grindset acted as a guiding hand, even more subconscious than hand seals, as I began compressing, rerouting, and then grinding the flow of chakra in my lungs against one another, like stick against stick - or flint and steel. The friction was subtle at first, the warmth of the chakra growing just a smidge hotter as I worked it slowly and calmly against each other, but then I intensified the pressure, coaxing the chakra to grind and scrape against one another harder and harder, but not hard enough for my ‘tools’ to break. Something behind my sternum breathed, and that warmth swelled into a very noticeable heat - not painful, but alive. Hot. It was like a coal beginning to catch, a fiery glow hidden behind my sternum.

Friction. Heat. Control. But it wasn’t ready. Not yet.

Next was the Horse seal. 

My fingers shifted seamlessly, knuckles overlaying knuckles, index fingers stretched up and angled in a triangular formation, and the instant it clicks into place, the chakra gathered in my lungs - the chakra tiressly grinding against itself, creating friction, creating heat - it abruptly changed. The heat turned scorching inside of my chest, damn near to the point of uncomfortableness, but just cool enough to feel scourging instead of painful. The scorching hot chakra stopped grinding against itself, instead expanding inside of my lungs, and my lungs themselves expanded to keep pace. 

No longer friction, but the heat and control was there. Only now, there was pressure. The Grindset urged me to adjust how I was holding it in; compressing the heat down until it was no longer threatening to burst out of my lungs. Keeping it contained. I had to isolate the chakra flow in my upper chest, lest the fire chakra mix with my normal chakra and ruin the jutsu. If I would have just gone with the flow of the hand seals, kept my introspection to a minimum, and did the jutsu normally, I was sure that things wouldn’t have been as intense as it was now.

As it was, I could feel everything as it happened. And that in and of itself would have resulted in a failure if I’d been anyone else. Too much happening at once. Too many distractions. It was only Multitasking and my own force of will that kept me centered in the raging fire that was my chakra pathways right now. It felt as if I was compressing gas until it was on the verge of combustion, and my chakra felt like a liquid fire, coiling through my lungs and throat. My breath was hotter than it had any right to be, yet it did not burn. Not enough to matter.

‘This,’ I thought, eyes closed, stomach taut and sucked in, lungs begging for oxygen, ‘This is the threshold. Too much, and it explodes. Too little, and it fizzles out. This is the perfect amount.’

It didn’t smell like a lie, and the Grindset didn’t correct me, so I took it as my win. I couldn’t release it yet. I had to hold it. To own it. Until it sparked.

That step, I realized distantly, as my hands formed the final seal, was Shape Transformation. There was more involved than I’d originally thought. Fortunately, my arrogance didn’t end with me fucking it all up.

“O-one minute…” Yaeko’s disturbed voice came from the darkness, but I paid her no mind. 

Tiger.

My fingers snapped into the final seal, and it was like pulling the trigger on a loaded weapon. The pressurized, gaseous chakra in my lungs and drifting up the contours of my throat - it ignited, though not with a bang, but with a silent, yet overwhelming flash of relief. The shift was immediate, from a nigh unbearable pressure of heat in my chest to an effortless and damn near pleasurable release. That one seal was the spark that I needed. The one that all of this was building up to. 

The actual ignition was easy - like a snap, the fire was lit.

It was the shaping and controlling of the fire as it left my mouth that required my attention.

I exhaled, and blue bell-colored flames unfurled from between my parted lips as if it was a part of the air itself. I opened my eyes, resisting the urge to smile and disturb the conical fan of soft blue that curled outwards and upwards, over our heads and into the darkness of the sky. It didn’t go far, nothing farther than five or so feet at its max, but the point of this technique was not raw power, or distance, or anything even remotely useful for direct combat. It was virtually silent, no louder than a gentle breeze through the treetops, and it was disciplined. Calm. So very different from the raging destruction that usually came to mind when fire jutsu was mentioned. It was based around utility, stealth, and convenience.

The pull on my chakra reserves was noticeable to me, but so slight that it didn’t really matter.

“That…” Yaeko, my ‘pseudo-teacher’, slowly drifted up to my right side, her eyes as wide as dinner plates as she stared up at the pretty blue flames. “That isn’t possible. You managed to learn Nature and Shape Transformation-... In thirty minutes? Twenty-nine?”

Ceasing the stream of soft flame was as simple as dispersing the chakra I’d gathered in my lungs, disseminating it back down into my pathways. My lips were tingling and curving upwards when I turned to the disbelieving woman, one sharp eyebrow raised in dry amusement. “You didn’t believe I could do it.”

Yaeko frowned, looking more put-off and concerned than apologetic. She tried to school her expression, but I’d seen enough to spot the discrepancies. “I didn’t.”

“Ouch.”

Abruptly, too quickly, she shook her head. “No,” she said in a surprisingly strong tone of voice, staring up into my eyes, “I didn't mean to… Look, I didn’t expect you to actually do it. But I didn’t expect any Genin to do it, let alone a Corpsman; not in thirty minutes. Unless… Unless you lied to win the bet.”

I blinked at the sudden accusation. “Lied? About what, exactly?”

“Everything.”

…

Patiently, I waited for the explanation, but the short, dark-haired girl merely stood there, awkwardly folding her arms over her chest to ward away the night’s chill, just staring at me. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the uncomfortableness of it all.

She was terrible at conversation. Though, perhaps I could assist in that regard? I found myself growing more and more comfortable with verbally interacting with others, and something told me this woman needed all the help she could get.

I sighed, though the smile on my face was light. “Yaeko-san?”

“…?” She tilted her head, the consternated frown still furrowing her brow.

“This is the part where you dig deeper into what you mean. One word explanations like ‘everything’ is hardly an explanation at all, and it contributes little to a worthwhile discussion.” 

I tried what people from James Beckham’s world called ‘gentle parenting’, keeping my voice calm, quiet, and supportive, and I was rewarded for the effort by the adorable sight of my hyper dangerous senpai blushing for the second time tonight. She opened her mouth to respond, blinked slowly, and then pursed her lips together again, glancing away from me and into the darkness - out where Kozumo had agreed to keep watch for the first couple hours.

I knew that she wasn’t looking for him, however. He couldn’t help her.

She was stalling for time.

The gears turning behind her apathetic expression were loud to me, though they may have been hidden to her. They were trying to assemble words the way one might struggle with an unfamiliar puzzle - each piece technically fitting, but never quite clicking into place. It was something James often had trouble with as well, though he expressed himself better through text.

Then, with a sharp breath through her nostrils, Yaeko murmured in a small voice, “I’m sorry. I don't think you lied. I can spot lies. But you said you were fresh from the Academy. That they left blanks, which I can attest to. Yet you effortlessly displayed an unnatural degree of skill and understanding of both Nature and Shape Transformation in half an hour, Ryoto. It…It’s…-”

It isn’t normal.

I could read between the lines.

But that didn’t make much sense to me.

“Earlier you mentioned the Uchiha Heiress, Itachi Uchiha, in the same breath as Kakashi Hatake…” I sat myself down right there in the dirt, crossing my legs over one another, and after a moment’s hesitation, Yaeko collapsed back onto her stump as if weighed down by an anvil.

“Yeah. So?”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “In Konoha, they are seen as the elite of the elite. Prodigies that make other geniuses weep. Both graduated from the Academy in a single year, back when the minimum age was significantly lower than it is now. Hatake-san became Chunin at the age of ten, and Jonin at the age of twelve. Uchiha-san’s pedigree is no less impressive. They are monsters when it comes to talent. Is it really impossible to think that I may have something of a talent for ninjutsu, myself?”

And that was where my confusion stemmed from. There were certain things that I remembered more than others from the anime called ‘Naruto’ that James Beckham had watched. The main strokes of the storyline took up most of my memory, but I also remembered key players of notable strength and skill. 

Kakashi Hatake. Itachi Uchiha - though, in James’ memories, she was a man instead of a woman. Minato Namikaze. Hiruzen Sarutobi. Madara Uchiha. Hashirama Senju. And so many more.

Each one considered geniuses and monsters of their generations in their own rights. So, to me, while it was somewhat difficult to believe that a Genin Corpsman could have even a percentage of the talent men like those possess, considering how many prodigies there were in this world… It wasn’t that insane. The only thing I was missing in order to draw a proper conclusion was the specifics of how difficult an achievement learning what I’d learned, in so little time no less, was in the long scheme of things.

Though, judging by the deadpanned, incredulous look I was receiving from Yaeko, I figured there was some sort of gap in my knowledge.

“... Ryoto,” she whispered, leaning forward on her thighs and clasping her hands together. She pointed at me with her index fingers, the corners of her lips twitching as if they wanted to both smile and frown at the same time, “You are ridiculous.”

“Oi.”

“One of the reasons the Sharingan is coveted and feared is due to its ability to copy techniques,” she continued monotonously, giving no attention to my half-hearted protest. “It’s a legendary dojutsu. A powerful one. One that both of the people you mentioned possess.”

I frowned. “Hatake-san didn’t have-”

“Doesn’t matter. You memorized my hand seals after seeing them once. After sitting in the grass and going through the hand seals for twenty-nine minutes, you flawlessly perform a fire technique on the first try - going as far as to mold and shape the flames as you released them, which even I struggle with at times. Do you even know your affinity?”

“Lightning?”

Yaeko’s gaze sharpened. “Is that a guess due to your birthplace, or do you actually know?”

“...”

Somehow, someway, this conversation had rotated a full one-eighty into me being lectured and feeling like a troublemaking kid, but at least she was talking more. I ran a sheepish hand through the thick, silky locks of my hair, resisting the urge to whistle innocuously. “A guess. But an educated one.”

Her responding sigh was heavy, incredulous, and tired, all in one bundle.

“There’s a chance that your natural affinity is fire, which could explain the ease in which you picked up the technique, but I doubt it. You’re not supposed to just… get it. Not like that. Not without days or weeks or months or, fuck, even years of practice, trial and error, feedback loops to correct mistakes. Even prodigies struggle. I- People- Foolish people consider me ‘talented’, or something of a prodigy, but it took me weeks to understand even the basics of Nature Transformation. But you… Your forehead didn’t even crease.” 

Yaeko was rambling now, which was somehow more surprising to me than anything else that had occurred tonight. Even her voice was beginning to sound hoarse and raspy, as if her throat wasn’t used to speaking so much in one sitting. Knowing what little I knew of her, it most likely wasn’t. But I noticed that now, although she was clearly tired and confused, the young Nara no longer seemed put-off.

Moreso, she seemed… curious. Interested. Like she thought she knew something, but she wasn’t sure.

“Be honest,” I murmured, fighting back the urge to yawn, “Assuming I was a natural talent at chakra control, how much did you expect me to accomplish in an hour?”

“Ram,” she responded immediately, without hesitation. At my bemused look, she ducked her head and continued, “Er- I only know a couple fire jutsu. Nothing above D-rank. But in the technique I showed you, the Ram seal is where Nature Transformation begins. I thought you’d be stuck there all night.”

I chuckled, sliding the pads of my calloused thumbs together and feeling them heat up. “I see. Yeah, that step is more about chakra stabilization, heat buildup, and friction. The Ram seal helps guide the chakra into your lungs and stabilize it while you create internal friction between their layers.”

Much like my thumbs, Yaeko’s cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “... I told you to imagine rubbing sticks together. Not that. I said I wasn’t a good teacher.”

“Extrapolation. Your stick analogy helped immensely, Yaeko-san, and I truly would’ve been lost if not for your help. Don’t sell yourself short.” 

Her eyes widened slightly, lips parting- to deny her involvement in my accomplishment, maybe? But then, like before, she closed her mouth and swallowed her words. The campfire was dimmer now, embers smoldering in a mass of twigs and kindling, but I saw a flash of her tiny smile through the firelight. It was pretty.

“Mm.”

And something of a charged silence fell between us.

It wasn’t uncomfortable or tense. Yaeko’s gaze fell from me, up to the sky, and after a few seconds, back down into the flickering flames of the campfire. I closed my eyes, bringing half of my mind back towards my chakra pathways in order to meditate on all that I’d learned and experienced, but the other half of my brain focused on the prickling sensation that I’d long since attributed to someone staring at me. Goosebumps against my flesh.

Yaeko was watching me when she thought I was distracted. Silly woman.

But the allotted hour I’d given Kozumo before I took over for watch was rapidly approaching, so after a few more minutes of meditation, I swiftly opened my eyes and locked them with my senpai. She froze, dark eyes wide at being caught so abruptly, but I had no interest in teasing her at the moment - despite how amusing it may have been.

I could tell that she wanted to ask me something.

“What is it, Yaeko-san?”

Her gaze wavered for a heartbeat, before strengthening. She narrowed her eyes at me.

“How did you do it?” The question was simple. Straightforward. She put the entire ball in my court right off the bat, and considering the context, it wasn’t something I could just avoid or ignore. Not without diminishing what little goodwill and camaraderie I built between us over the past hour or so.

And did I even want to avoid it? What was the point? I was talented. I was born this way, apparently - made to be, by a boy barely older than I am. A boy who was also me. For what reason did I have to bury and hide my potential? There were threats in this world, I knew that. Threats who would see me killed or abducted for my talents. But as of now, all that has been shown is unnatural skill at learning things with minimal information. 

I refused to stifle my progression out of paranoia for things that may or may not come for me in the future regardless.

So I shrugged lightly, clasping my hands over my lap, and smiled at her. “I… just did. Recently, after years of struggle, I’ve found that something changed inside of me, and things that may have been complicated before now come very naturally to me. I pick up on things easier. My mind arrives at the correct conclusions faster, my body and muscles instinctively guides me towards the most efficient path. I am…”

Built different-

“Different, now. Everything feels different. But in a good way. When you instructed me, everything you showcased simply made perfect sense as soon as you explained it. Like you handed me a puzzle with pieces that already knew where they belonged. I didn’t have to force anything. I just… felt it. Saw it. And executed.”

Because that was truly how it felt to me.

Yaeko didn’t respond right away. She just stared at me, her dark eyes reflecting the dying embers of the firelight. Her fingers drummed lightly against her forearm where she’d crossed her arms again, but it didn’t seem as awkward and defensive this time - more like a nervous habit. The kind people did when their brain was racing faster than their mouth could keep up.

She eventually broke the silence with a quiet, almost reluctant, “That sounds… terrifying.”

I blinked. “Terrifying?”

She nodded, her gaze flickering down to her lap before she looked back up at me, more serious now. “Yes. Do you know what people fear the most? What they whisper about in the dark, what makes shinobi more dangerous than any jutsu or weapon?”

I tilted my head, curious. “What would that be?”

“The unknown,” she whispered, her voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire. “Things they can’t predict. Things they can’t control. And not even you seem to understand how you’ve changed. Even prodigies struggle, Ryoto. They fail. They bleed for their strength, and their knowledge. But you… Like you’re said, you’re different. And in this world, different things don’t stay hidden for long. ‘Different’ makes waves, and waves are-... they can be bad.”

Her words, while uncharacteristically verbose and well thought out, weren’t cruel. They weren’t even a warning, not really. They were just… honest. A truth she’d probably learned the hard way, considering her own checkered and shady past.

But all I could do was smile softly and shake my head. “Then so be it. I’ll make sure I’m ready when the time comes. You will too, Yaeko-san; I won our little bet, after all.”

Yaeko’s eyes widened slightly again, not with surprise, but something more complex. Admiration, maybe, or respect, though I doubt she’d ever admit it aloud. She scoffed lightly, more to herself than to me, and murmured beneath her breath in a soft rasp, “You’re an idiot.”

“Probably.”

She smiled again - nothing more than the slightest of curls at the corner of her mouth that she probably didn’t even notice herself. “I don’t hate it.”

And that, somehow, seemed to settle things between us. The tension diffused like mist under the morning sun, leaving behind something lighter. It wasn’t quite friendship. Not yet. But maybe something just beneath it, fragile yet thirsty to grow. I found that I quite liked Yaeko Nara.

Standing up, I dusted off my pants and inclined my head towards the much smaller woman. “I’ll take over Kozumo’s watch; it’s been about an hour. You should get some rest.”

Yaeko didn’t argue. She just nodded, standing up herself and stretching lazily, her limbs stiff from sitting so long. But as I turned to leave, her voice stopped me.

“Hey, Ryoto.”

I glanced back, raising an eyebrow. “Hm?”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then said quietly, “Thanks. And, uh… you’re welcome. You did… really well tonight.”

I didn’t need to ask what she meant by ‘thanks’. Neither did I feel the urge to tease her for her awkwardness. I imagined it took a lot for her to manage just this.

I just smiled, nodded once, and disappeared into the darkness of the woodline for yet another night of juggling training with duty.

____________________________________

Early the following morning, we polished off leftover katsudon, packed our scrolls, and was back on the road before the sun was even finished climbing its way back into the sky.

According to Yaeko’s map, which she allowed me to study during breakfast, we were actually making really good time. Despite Kozumo’s general lack of athleticism, he was still a shinobi with access to chakra, and our pace - while slow to some - was leagues faster than your average villager traveling by cart or caravan. We were estimated to arrive at Tanzaku Gai by the late evening, barring no significant detours or several hour long breaks.

I imagine that the distance we’d already traveled in a day and some change would have seemed outright implausible from the people of James’ world. We dashed through the treetops with the ease and agility of monkeys or squirrels, soaring over leaves and springboarding from bark to branch in a blurring testament of both stamina and raw, unadulterated speed.

The performance of Earth’s Olympic Gold Medallists, I estimated, would pale in comparison to even me, a mere Corpsman. And that was with my chakra weights freshly increased to one hundred and fifty pounds each on both legs, which my muscles were feeling in every single fiber of their sore and leadened being.

It did, however, confirm to me that my rate of recovery was abnormally fast; possibly because it accelerated my growth. Whether that extended past the labors of training remained to be seen. Hopefully for the foreseeable future.

“You’re even slower today,” Yaeko commented pointedly, having reined in her own breakneck pace to fall in step with me. Beads of sweat darkened the collar of my mesh shirt, stinging the corners of my eyes, but I forced my breathing to stay even and measured.

Beneath my feet, despite my light steps, each tree branch groaned in protest at my weight.

Truthfully, it was somewhat embarrassing.

“The weight from yesterday was feeling too light when I woke up this morning. I thought now would be a good time to increase it.” I spoke slowly, yet loud and clear enough to be heard over the rushing wind. 

Yaeko glanced down at the shuddering branches as we moved, her slim black eyebrows raised in a knowing arch. “You’re struggling. What weight are they now?”

“… Three hundred total.”

She clicked her teeth. “Keep it there.”

I didn’t respond.

For a moment, as we traveled, neither of us said anything. The only voice was that of Kozumo, huffing and gasping with audible effort as he struggled to keep up with us - though he was still a couple dozen feet behind, even with our own lagging speed. It took her a full sixty seconds of awkward, half-conspicuous glances in my direction, where I moved stoically and silently, before yesterday’s lesson clicked in Yaeko’s head and she flushed with embarrassment.

“… Sorry. You should keep it there, because we’re going to be at Tanzaku Gai soon. Within the next few hours. And the bandits - our intel on their operation is practically nonexistent. You need to be on your toes. Expect the unexpected. Only increase it during sanctioned training sessions. Lower it afterwards.” Clearly uncomfortable with saying so much this early in the day, my senpai quickly fell silent, returning her attention back to the trees ahead.

I smile proudly. “Hai. I’ll follow your wisdom, Yaeko-sensei. Thank you. And good job, catching on so quickly.”

“Tch,” she whipped her head to the right, refusing to show me her face, “You’re pushing it. Don’t praise me like I’m your junior. But don’t call me sensei.”

“Understood, Yaeko-senpai.” I closed my eyes calmly, my smile not diminishing.

“… Idiot.”

But as much as she tried to mumble the ‘insult’ beneath her breath, Yaeko was close enough for me to hear both it and the smile she was attempting to snuff out like the flames of a campfire. Fondness, exasperation… Could this easy connection and rapport we seemed to find between each other be just another byproduct of James Beckham’s meddling? Was I pushing us closer together due to that unconscious urge I seemed to possess - the urge to create a ‘harem’, and surround myself with powerful, beautiful women?

…

Did it matter?

Regardless of anything, I was me, and my powers and their drawbacks were me just as well as James Beckham had been. I enjoyed Yaeko’s company, and no matter how things shaped up, I would enjoy her friendship. I could tell she could use a friend.

And teasing women, I found, was quickly becoming one of my favorite hobbies - right below the Grind. Because, with the Chad Grindset, training was eternal.

So for the next several hours, as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky, and the looming cedar trees slowly transitioned into squatter, thicker oaks, our journey carried on with a familiar, rhythmic repetition that wasn’t too dissimilar from yesterday’s hustle and bustle. The rustling of leaves, punctuated by Kozumo’s occasional grunts and the distant cries of forest birds, filled the otherwise crisp morning quiet. Yaeko and I didn’t speak to each other much after our previous exchange, but much like last night, there was a comfortable ease to our silence.

The changing forest canopy dappled a warm, glowing sunlight onto our path, casting flickering patterns across Yaeko’s sharp, pale features. Her shadow flitted alongside mine as we leapt from branch to branch, her movements precise and effortless - an elegant and nimble contrast to my more measured strides and leaps under the strain of my chakra weights. She barely seemed to notice the sweat accumulating along her brow, unlike me, whose every step felt like dragging sandbags attached to my legs. 

But the burn was invigorating. Cleansing.

Kozumo muttered curses under his breath. “Damn kids... they think they’re all invincible,” he wheezed, pausing briefly on a particularly thick branch to catch his breath, his round face flushed and glistening with sweat. “When I was your age, I had better things to do than play monkey across treetops. Like- like war, and whoring, and-”

Yaeko didn’t bother looking back. “Being useless. Forty years, and you haven’t changed at all. For shame.”

“I-It’s been twenty four years, damn it!”

“Dementia. Maybe you should retire already, ojii-san.”

“FEH!”

I had to bite down on a grin, suppressing the laugh bubbling up in my chest. Kozumo’s response was an indignant huff, followed by the sound of bark creaking beneath his feet as he forced himself to keep pace.

“You know,” I said after a while, my breath steady despite the strain, “if you purchased some weights of your own, your stamina and strength may increase. You’d improve solely by bar-hopping and wandering the village’s walls.”

“If I wanted unsolicited advice, kid, I’d ask. All I wanna think about right now is Tanzaku Gai! The women, the gambling… I brought my life’s savings with me solely for this fuckin’ mission!” Kozumo's gruff shout drifted up from behind, but there was no real bite to his voice; just the tired resignation of someone long past caring about appearances and effort.

It was disappointing, his utter lack of drive to improve or succeed, but this was hardly the first time I’ve been disappointed by someone from the Corps. There were more men like Kozumo in the Corps than there were young go-getters like Yaeko. I could only hope that his inefficiency didn’t cost us anything in the mission.

She shot me a sideways glance, her lips twitching ever so slightly. “Don’t encourage him. Despite his bitching, he takes at least one mission a week. If he purchases weights, he’d die the second he left the village.”

“... Oi, oi, Yaeko - isn’t that a little too cold?” Kozumo choked out.

Yaeko tilted her head back, even as she kept pace beside me. “Am I wrong?”

“... Touche. Brat.”

I snorted.

The banter kept the fatigue at bay, at least for me. There was a strange comfort in the simplicity of it all - the repetitive motion, the easy, if brief conversation, the occasional snark-laden jab shot between Yaeko and Kozumo. It was almost enough to make me forget the weight dragging at my legs, the soreness burning in my calves and thighs.

Almost.

As midday approached, we paused on a broad, sun-warmed branch overlooking a narrow river snaking through the woods below. The water glimmered under the noon light, its gentle babble a soothing contrast to the rustle of the forest.

Kozumo slumped against the trunk of the tree, wheezing dramatically. “Break time. Non-negotiable. Just… just a few minutes, damn it.”

Yaeko didn’t argue, though she remained standing, arms crossed and gaze distant. I took the chance to adjust my weights, kneeling to tighten the straps around my ankles. The added pressure sent fresh waves of ache through my legs, but it was a familiar pain - the kind that whispered of progress. I wasn’t sure if it was a byproduct of my unique situation or not, but this kind of pain was pleasing to me. Not pleasurable in a masochistic sense, but mentally pleasing. Satisfying. I enjoyed breaking past my limits more than anything else in this world, perhaps.

Maybe something was wrong with my head. I did not mind it, though.

“Why do you push so hard…?” Yaeko asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet. Not mocking or annoyed. Merely curious.

I glanced up, meeting her dark eyes. There was no judgment in them, only genuine interest. That earnest straightforwardness was one of her more positive traits.

“Because I can,” I replied simply. Then, after a pause, I continued, “And because I have to. If I don’t, I’ll never know how far I can go. Where my innate potential could take me if I applied myself. And that sort of unknown… It’s scary.”

She seemed to consider my words as her gaze drifted back to the horizon, her slim bottom lip pressed between her teeth. “Hmm.”

Kozumo snorted from his spot against an old oak tree, a few feet below where we stood. “Youth. All ambition, no common sense. You’ll learn, kid.”

“Reckless ambition is better than no ambition at all, old man. Shut it.” Yaeko shot back, her tone cool but carrying an undercurrent of something sharper.

Kozumo didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t have an answer. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to argue.

After a few more minutes of rest, we resumed our journey. Within the hour, the forest began to thin even more, the thick oak trees growing sparser as we neared the outskirts of Tanzaku Gai. The distant sound of bustling activity drifted on the wind, but rather than the usual sound of joy and energy that you’d expect from a casino town such as this, there was something more… violent in the air. Loud, aggressive voices, carts creaking, the faint clang of metal against metal. Battle.

And I could feel it then; a subtle shift in the wind that brought a scent alongside it.

Blood. Thick, coppery, and heady.

Kozumo stiffened, nearly tripping over his feet, but Yaeko wasted no time extracting two kunai from her pouches. When she spoke, her quiet voice was louder, colder - no longer its soft, almost gentle whisper. “Weapons drawn. Ryoto, lessen your weight. We’re moving in. Now.”

There was no time to respond. In a blur of speed that I was only barely able to follow, she dropped from our tree and was bounding through the underbrush like a fleeing bunny, only her fur was as black as shadows instead of a snowy white.

I didn’t hesitate. A swipe of my fingers against my ankles, a burst of chakra, and my body suddenly felt so much lighter. At least by fifty percent.

Kozumo dropped from the tree with a grunt, but with adrenaline and chakra coursing through my veins, I flew over his head, immediately following Yaeko’s path.

The time for friendly banter and cracking jokes was over.

Now… the mission began.