[Chapter 10 – All Kind of Falls]
Yohei yawned as he got dressed after his morning shower.
He wanted to say that he regretted asking his mother for help studying last night – judging by how tired he'd woken up – but that was exactly the kind of thinking he needed to get rid of. So he swallowed his childish complaints, slapped his cheeks, and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air.
"Haa… alright, let's do this," he said with a grin, bringing his hands together.
Rat → Tiger → Hare → Dog → Bird.
"Thousand-Sound Perception," he called out, feeling the chakra pooled in his gut rush upward and concentrate along the meridians in his head. It felt like static – or maybe a tingling coolness – as it saturated three specific tenketsu:
Tang-Hui, located below the ermen, in front of the incisura intertragica, where a depression forms when the mouth is wide open.
Yi-Feng, located behind the lobule of the auricle, between the mastoid process and the mandible, where a depression forms when the mouth opens.
Erh-Men, located in front of the tuberculum supratragicum, where a depression forms when the mouth is opened.
…He only knew the meaning of about half of those words, but he'd at least memorized the text straight from the scroll.
As the jutsu took effect, it felt like unclogging his ears – or… no. That wasn't quite right. It was more like dusting cobwebs out of his brain.
All of a sudden, Yohei was aware of everything.
Well. Everything he could hear, at least – which, to be fair, was quite a lot.
Humans constantly use their ears to convert air vibrations into neural signals, but their conscious awareness of those signals is heavily limited. An individual made aware of every sound at all times – fabric rubbing, their own heartbeat, distant traffic, the faint electrical hum in the walls – would be quickly overwhelmed and rendered unable to function.
To prevent that, the brain employs several filtering mechanisms. Sensory gating, for instance, suppresses repetitive, predictable, or irrelevant stimuli before they ever reach conscious awareness. Predictive processing allows the brain to anticipate incoming sensory input, ensuring that only sounds which deviate from expectation are consciously registered. And those were only the most prominent of dozens of such systems.
The Thousand-Sound Perception Jutsu broke all of that.
It stripped away the filters entirely, using chakra not only as fuel to endure the sudden sensory overload, but also as a translation layer – forcing the flood of raw input into patterns the brain could actually understand.
So now, Yohei was acutely aware of the wood groaning beneath his feet, the wind buffeting against his window, the insect crawling along the ceiling, the steady hum of his fan, and the electricity running through the cables in the walls. He was aware of the shift of his clothes, the faint metallic ringing of his ninja mesh, the air rushing through his nose as he breathed, the blood flowing through his veins, and the beat of his heart – along with every other sound his body made as it digested his breakfast.
It was disgusting.
It was awesome.
The grin on his face was painfully wide.
Experimentally, he closed his eyes and tried to move around his room, finding it far easier than he had expected.
He had thought he'd get some kind of three-dimensional map in his head, or that his consciousness would expand outward in waves, revealing the world in stark black and white like Toph from that old Avatar cartoon. But it wasn't anything like that.
Rather, it was just… awareness.
He stepped forward and knew that if he took another step he'd hit his chair – because he could hear the way the wind passed through it, hear how it vibrated faintly when he walked.
"I love chakra," he said joyfully, laughing before opening his eyes and looking at his reflection in the mirror above his desk.
He moved his head from side to side, watching carefully, then nodded with satisfaction.
"Not a trace of anything different," he said. "I mean, a Hyuuga could absolutely tell I'm doing something. Maybe an Uchiha too. Maybe. Possibly. You never know with the Sharingan."
A reasonable risk to take.
Even in the unlikely situation that a Hyuuga paid enough attention to him with their Byakugan active to notice something off, they'd still have to care enough about a harmless-looking genin to either question him or report it to someone – neither of which seemed particularly likely.
No, the real danger would be the involuntary tells.
Reacting to things he shouldn't react to. Moving in subtly strange ways because of the added awareness.
"Still," he muttered, "better to get used to it as soon as possible."
With that decided, he turned off the electric fan, shut off his room's lights, stepped onto the window frame, and leapt onto the neighboring roof.
"Early day, Yohei-kun?" called out an amused man's voice from the porch below. He was dressed in traditional – if comfortable – clothes.
Yohei looked down with a grin. "Hey, Satoru-san! Good morning! I'm going to meet my team for our first mission."
"Hoh! Is that so, Yohei-kun?" Satoru-san said with a laugh. "I'll make sure to commission a mission from your team! Sana-chan sent the last genin I hired running for the hills, hahahaha!"
Yohei snickered. "I don't know if Team 5 is prepared to deal with Sana, Satoru-san. Maybe after we get some more experience dealing with bandits and beasts." He said as he started walking off.
"Oi! You brat! That's my daughter you're talking about!" the man shouted with faux indignation. "Just because she has no manners, eats like a starving animal, beats up people she doesn't like, and keeps trying to get her grubby hands on other people's belongings doesn't mean you can call her a bandit or a beast!"
"Daddy!" came a whining shout from inside the house.
"Only I can call her that!"
"DAAAADDYYY!"
"Daddy's here, princess!"
Yohei laughed as he leapt away, leaving behind the heartwarming sight of a father chasing after his daughter, trying to scoop her into his arms while she pelted him with whatever she could grab.
Heading north toward the Academy, he moved slower than usual, taking his time to get used to the heightened awareness brought on by his jutsu – which he quickly noticed made it much easier to move, adjust his positioning, keep his balance, and avoid obstacles.
…But part of it was also because he was genuinely having fun with the trek.
Clay tiles rattled beneath his boots – and he once more made a mental note to procure steel-toed ones – as he landed, knees bending to drink in the shock before the sound could fully escape.
Then he was already moving again, feet drumming along the spine of the roof, arms spread for balance as a loose tile skidded away and clattered into the alley below.
"Oi!"
"Sorry!" he shouted back with a wince, adjusting mid-stride and leaping toward the street-
He caught the post of a streetlamp with both hands, fingers burning as his weight yanked at them. For less than a heartbeat, he found himself dangling, feet kicking uselessly in a way that reminded him of The Lion King. Then, with a soft grunt that turned into a chuckle, he hauled himself forward, let go, and rolled to bleed off momentum as he landed on the next roof.
He nearly stood up straight into a cluster of laundry lines, but the sound of damp fabric snapping together in the wind made him duck instinctively. He laughed under his breath as he vaulted over a low chimney, pushing off its warm stone with one hand.
The rooftops of Konoha weren't smooth, even paths. The city's architecture – despite sharing the same general aesthetic – was chaotic, clustered at times and sparse at others, one could even call it messy.
It was also perfect for shinobi to traverse.
He skidded once, heel scraping, and had to slap a palm flat against the wooden roof he found himself on to keep from sliding off entirely.
A cat hissed as he bounded past, fur bristling, and he nearly collided with a wooden sign jutting from an upper window that he didn't remember being there the last time he'd taken this route.
He grabbed it on reflex, the sign creaking ominously as it swung, then used the motion to fling himself sideways onto a narrower roof.
Well… it seemed like he'd found a limitation to the technique.
He already knew it, really, but it didn't increase his hearing – only his ability to use what he already had. If he couldn't hear something because either he or it was moving too fast, or because it was simply too quiet, then it would still be beyond his perception.
"I really have to work on something to give me super hearing," he mumbled before cracking his neck and looking forward, his grin returning as he picked up speed and leapt off again.
-~=~-
When he arrived at the Academy, dropping from a tree in the playground near the infamous Swing of Sadness and Sorrow, he spotted another group of genin coming out of the building – Team 10, this generation's Ino–Shika–Chō, and their jōnin, Sarutobi Asuma.
Son of the Hokage, and a pretty cool-looking guy, even if he was a chain-smoker – which docked him about a hundred points on the coolness scale.
Yohei waved to the group, who had already noticed him, with an easy smile.
Their sensei nodded back good-naturedly. Chōji waved with the hand holding a chip, Shikamaru inclined his head in acknowledgment, and Ino merely raised an eyebrow and let out a sniff before turning away, making Yohei roll his eyes even as Asuma laughed.
From his own team, he could only see Souma nearby, the boy holding his sheathed sword as he reclined against a wall in the shade, eyes closed.
"Hey, big guy," Yohei greeted him with a tap on the shoulder, making him open his eyes and smile down at him. "Been waiting long?"
Souma glanced up at the sky, considering, before answering nonchalantly, "A bit more than an hour."
Yohei blinked, brow furrowing. "Wait. Am I late?"
Sōma shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Then… you came here more than an hour before the call time?"
Sōma nodded.
Yohei sweatdropped. "Why, though?"
"Punctuality is important," the other boy said solemnly.
"Yeah, bu-"
"I'm here! I'm here!" interrupted a panting Ren as he jumped between them. "Whew."
Looking at the smaller boy, Yohei grinned teasingly before forcing his face into a disappointed frown.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Again, Ren?" Yohei scolded. "You can't keep showing up late to our meetups. Don't you know punctuality is important? Poor Souma here has been waiting for almost two hours for you."
"Oh, fuck off," Ren said, flipping him the bird and rolling his eyes. "I had a problem with my alarm. Besides, if you're going to lie, at least do it convincingly – there's no way I'm that late."
"You think I'd lie to one of my teammates?" Yohei asked with faux indignation, turning to their white-haired teammate. "Souma, weren't you waiting here for almost two hours?"
Contrary to what Yohei expected, the other boy let a small grin tug at the corner of his mouth – one he quickly smothered before Ren could notice – before simply nodding in affirmation.
"No way," Ren said, shaking his head, though a seed of doubt crept in as he glanced up at the sky. "Am I actually late?"
"You're not," Hayama said from behind them.
Yohei had to force himself to jump along with the rest of his team at the sudden voice, despite the fact that he was already aware of the man's position from the sound of his movement.
Normally, it would have been masked by the other noises in the environment and ignored by the brain as 'natural.' But Yohei had latched onto the oddity of it just as easily as he latched onto the thousands of other sounds around him.
Good to know that while it's not as overpowered as I expected, this is still incredibly useful for more than just moving around.
Hayama looked down at the three of them with a small, amused smile before inclining his head toward the building. "Come on. Let's get you your first mission."
-~=~-
In his memories, Yohei recalled what he used to imagine when he thought about shinobi receiving missions: a dark, candlelit room; the Hokage sitting on a throne behind a curtain, only his silhouette visible; shinobi kneeling on the floor with lowered heads and the weight of responsibility heavy on their backs.
He knew from his foreign memories that this wasn't true – but, as if to remind him that his… other self wasn't quite a perfect encyclopedia of this world, those memories were wrong too.
He remembered a small room, the Hokage smoking a pipe behind a desk piled with books, portraits of the past Hokage lining the walls.
The truth was very different – and also a bit of a… shock.
Yeah. A shock.
The Mission Assignment Desk stood in a room in the Administrative Wing of the Academy. It was a wide, open space, with six large windows at the back and two stick-like lights hanging from the ceiling. Painted overhead was the kanji "忍" – Shinobi. Facing anyone who entered was a long table where the Hokage and a small staff of ninja sat, distributing missions.
Set in front of the desk was a white banner that read "Mission Assignment This Way", with another banner above it proclaiming, "Everybody, do your best!"
'Cute,' Yohei thought with a blink, resisting the urge to sigh. 'Way to break my expectations. This is… a lot lighter than I was expecting. But then again, most ninja are young – and this is Konoha. It's generally not a dark place. Until it is.'
As they stepped inside, the Hokage stopped reading from the scroll in his hands and looked up at them, his long wooden pipe lit and resting between his lips.
Yohei… wasn't sure what to think of the Hokage anymore.
He – he just didn't know.
Too many bad things had happened during the Third's tenure. Things he had allowed to happen. Things he should have stopped. But how much of it was his fault? How much had been deliberate? How much was inaction? And how much was simply a fallible man placed in circumstances he couldn't fully control, doing the best he could?
Yohei knew that the Third hated war, that he wanted a better future for Konoha and for its children. They were the 'King', after all. But that didn't excuse everything Yohei knew – or thought he knew.
Once more, his other memories failed him. They weren't a perfect recollection of this world, nor had they consumed all of its 'source material.' He couldn't be sure of anything.
Was he supposed to be angry at Hiruzen? Hate him? Pity him? Be indifferent?
Yohei was starting to worry that the conflict might show on his face when Hiruzen's gaze fell on him – and the man smiled.
It was a warm smile, filled with pride.
Yohei froze, then smiled bashfully despite himself and bowed deeply, a motion mirrored by the rest of his team.
The old man in his wide hat chuckled softly and returned to his reading as Yohei's team moved on.
'Well… damn,' Yohei thought in shock. 'Is this indoctrination? Does indoctrination even work like that? Or are my feelings for the Third still the same, despite what I know—and what I think I know?'
He didn't have much time to dwell on it. They had already reached the desk, behind which stood a peppy-looking beautiful young woman with the traditional light hair and blue eyes of the Yamanaka.
"Hello there!" she said cheerfully, beaming at them.
Yohei's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately started regulating his breathing to avoid blushing – though, judging by the sidelong, squinting grins Ren kept throwing his way, he wasn't being particularly successful.
"Good morning," Hayama-sensei greeted neutrally. "Team Hayama reporting for a mission."
"Another one already, Shirakumo-san?" the woman asked rhetorically, lifting an eyebrow as she looked them over. "You're really lucky, aren't you?" She sighed a moment later. "I tried to get a team last year, but the kids were no good."
Hayama merely hummed noncommittally in response.
The woman laughed sheepishly, then straightened and returned to a more professional posture, smiling at them. "Alright then – missions. You got here pretty early, so we've got a good selection to go around. Any preferences?"
Shirakumo glanced over his team, considering their expressions.
Ren was practically vibrating in place, barely containing himself as he waited to hear what their sensei had in mind for their first mission. Souma, meanwhile, wore a focused expression, as if he were already preparing himself to cut down enemies.
Yohei, on the other hand, had the same expression a lot of jōnin did – the look of someone who knew exactly what the genin were about to be subjected to, and was eagerly anticipating the moment their romantic notions of what ninja work was would be shattered.
Hayama met his gaze and offered him a secretive smile.
Yohei answered with a wink.
"Something to get their blood pumping," Hayama said at last. "A good workout."
The woman's eyes lit up, even as she kept her expression professional. "A good workout, huh? I don't know, Shirakumo-san – they're fresh out of the Academy. You really think they're strong enough for something like that?"
Thanks to his technique, Yohei caught the sound of a snort from the other side of the room, quickly disguised by a cough and the scratch of a pen against paper.
He glanced at his teammates. Ren was barely restraining himself from blurting something out, while Souma stared at their sensei with wide, intense eyes.
Hayama placed a hand on each of their shoulders, his smile gentle and confident.
"I'm sure they can handle whatever you have," he said.
The other two nodded frantically.
Yohei had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
The woman gave them an appropriately impressed look. "Wow, really? Well, in that case… I have just the thing!"
She slid a green scroll across the table, the letter D painted on it several times.
Hayama opened the latch and read its contents for a moment before giving her a grateful nod.
"It's perfect." He said with a smile.
[Chapter 11 – On the Nature of D-Ranks]
Yohei's teammates remained visibly excited the entire trek from the Academy to the village's west district. Ren chatted animatedly with Souma, the two of them clearly still riding the thrill of having been assigned their very first mission. Yohei, meanwhile, lagged just half a step behind, occasionally sneaking glances at them – each one tinged with poorly hidden amusement.
It didn't take long for Ren to notice.
At first, he merely frowned, glancing between the path ahead and Yohei's face. Then, as the streets subtly shifted and they began heading south instead of toward the main gate, suspicion crept in. It fully set once Hayama-sensei stopped in front of one of the village's "mini-forests" – a stretch of carefully maintained woodland used both as a public park and as a source of timber that didn't require venturing beyond Konoha's walls.
Ren's shoulders sagged.
"We've been bamboozled, haven't we?" he asked, voice small and defeated, as he turned to Yohei.
Yohei tried to hold back a snort, then let out a few helpless chuckles. "Yeah," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and doing a terrible job of hiding his laughter.
Ren glared at him, eyes narrowed – but there was no real heat behind it, just the wounded look of someone who had walked straight into a trap he should have seen coming.
"Alright, here we are," Hayama-sensei announced, turning to face them. He reached into the pocket of his flak jacket, pulled out the mission scroll, and unrolled it with practiced ease. "Our contractor, Fujimoto Saburo-san, has been granted a land lease by the Hokage on the outskirts of the woods in the south-west area of the village, for the express purpose of building a warehouse for his mercantile products. As part of the contract made with the administration, every step of the building process will be realized either entirely or partially by genin, with a different mission assigned for each stage."
He rolled the scroll back up and regarded his students with an easy smile.
"Luckily, the first part has already been taken care of by another team," he continued, gesturing toward a series of white-painted stakes connected by rope, driven into the earth and disappearing deeper into the trees. "They surveyed the terrain, marked the plot, and confirmed there were no protected trees that needed to be flagged – or nests of insects belonging to the Aburame."
Yohei could have sworn he heard the man mutter 'and thank fuck for that' under his breath.
"Our – or rather, your – job today," Hayama-sensei went on, "is to clean out all of the trees inside the marked area, so another team can come tomorrow and clear any remaining undergrowth and debris."
He let the silence linger, watching their reactions.
Souma looked disappointed for exactly one heartbeat before his expression shifted. His eyes swept over the trees with renewed interest, already assessing their thickness and spacing, one hand settling on the handle of his sword as if itching to get started.
Yohei, who had been laughing just moments earlier, felt that amusement drain away as the reality of the hard labor ahead finally sank in. His shoulders slumped slightly.
Ren, on the other hand, was barely holding himself together.
"O-oi, oi, Yohei," he called, turning toward his teammate with a pitiful look on his face. "You called me wimpy, right? You're right – so right. We're partners, yeah? The best of friends?" He thrust out his arms dramatically. "So you'll help me with your freaky strength, right? Look at these things! They're noodles!"
"Now, now, none of that," their sensei chided, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "As luck would have it, there is a perfectly even number of them to divide between the three of you. Thirty trees – well, thirty-one, but–"
He drew his sword, and it was immediately wreathed in sharp, cutting winds. With a single clean motion, he sliced through the base of the nearest tree. The trunk groaned as he gave it a light push, sending it tipping backward until it crashed to the ground. Hayama-sensei then turned back to then and sat on the remaining stump, smoothly sheathing his blade once more.
"There," he said lightly, dusting off his hands. "Now they're even. No need to thank me."
His expression shifted, amusement giving way to something more serious as he looked at the three of them. "Before we start, I want to ask you something. Why do you think you're being told to do this? Why are ninja – trained for combat from an early age – made to do menial work that anyone else could do? What is the purpose of a D-Rank mission?"
His gaze settled on Souma. "Souma?"
The boy tilted his head, brows knitting together as he thought it over. After a moment, he ventured, "Training?"
Hayama hummed noncommittally, then turned his attention to Ren.
"To build a good relationship with the civvies?" the red-eyed boy guessed with a shrug. "Show them that the big bad shinobi aren't so big and bad after all – and that we're actually helpful in their day-to-day lives beyond just protecting them."
The sensei nodded once, then looked to Yohei.
Yohei pursed his lips, taking a moment before answering. "Because they're easy?" he said slowly. "They're a good source of money for those who don't have the resources of a family to invest in their careers, and they prepare genin for the whole process of actually completing missions."
Hayama nodded. "That's basically it, yes. D-Ranks are helpful in training a genin's body and mind, and in building teamwork and camaraderie. They teach you how to deal with monotonous tasks and how to interact with clients, as well as help you understand the bureaucratic side of shinobi life."
He continued without pause. "And while their pay is nothing compared to higher-ranking missions, it's still a considerable sum – enough to help young ninja establish themselves, secure a place to live, and invest in both equipment and personal improvement. Furthermore, as Ren said, they help bridge the distance between the average civilian and the ninja. They prevent mistrust from taking root between us and those we depend on for work, and avoid the kind of ostracization shinobi suffered in the past, when we were seen as little more than butchers and mercenaries."
He let that settle for a moment before going on.
"But here's the real question – why? Why train genin in this way, when more conventional training could achieve the same effect? Why teach you to complete missions like this when a more advanced mission under the guidance of an experienced ninja could do just as well? Why allow genin to be employed by civilians when they could instead work exclusively for the village? Why worry about how people who couldn't realistically pose a threat to us see us?"
All three of them were staring at him now, eyes sharp and focused, curiosity written plainly across their faces. The sight made Hayama crack a smile.
"Honestly," he admitted, "I'm not the best person to answer those questions. I'm no philosopher or historian. Mostly, I do my work and train to improve myself – I'm not overly concerned with understanding why things are the way they are, or how they came to be."
He paused, then added, "But one of your senpai once asked me those same questions, and I've been thinking about them ever since. And if you want my opinion… the answer is simply this."
He smiled.
"Because we are ninja."
They only looked more confused at that, their expressions blank with uncertainty – and Hayama laughed.
"What is a ninja, my genin?" Hayama continued. "You could ask that question to a hundred of your peers and get a hundred different answers – and that, in itself, is the answer."
He folded his arms loosely as he spoke. "At our core, we're nothing more than individuals with a higher-than-average chakra capacity who train to use it. But so are monks. So are samurai. So are many craftsmen across the Elemental Nations, and plenty of more niche professions besides."
His gaze swept over them. "What makes ninja different is that we don't follow a single creed, goal, or objective. A ninja is a multi-purpose tool, wielded by both their contractor and their village. A ninja can be anything."
He gestured around them, encompassing the forest, the village beyond, and perhaps more than that. "We are builders – and destroyers. Baby-sitters and dog-walkers. Craftsmen and bodyguards. Symbols of status and instruments of fear. Infiltrators and companions. Rescuers and killers."
Hayama's voice remained calm as he went on. "The Hokage could, hypothetically, cease accepting new missions altogether. He could make the Academy's training more militaristic, organize us into a standing army, overthrow the Daimyō, seize control of the Land of Fire, and search the countryside for every child with chakra aptitude to be taken from their parents and trained. We would be soldiers and conquerors then."
He paused, then continued, "Or he could order the demilitarization of Konoha. Turn us into peaceful entertainers, crafters, and performers."
A small shake of his head followed. "But that's not what we are. What defines us as ninja is our capacity to be all of those things. And nothing embodies that spirit more than D-Rank missions."
The words hit Yohei harder than he had expected.
They echoed in his mind, stirring memories of what he had said just two days earlier when asked about his dreams for the future. At the time, it had been a somewhat spontaneous answer – born from a few moments of honest consideration – but it had felt right as soon as he spoke it. Since then, it had only grown firmer in his heart, solidifying into something he believed was truly worth striving for.
He didn't feel the same blazing conviction that Rock Lee carried for his goal – to prove that even someone who couldn't use ninjutsu or genjutsu could still become an exemplary ninja, that hard work could triumph over natural talent. Nor was it as emotionally charged as Naruto's dream of becoming Hokage so he could be acknowledged and accepted by the village as family.
But it was something Yohei wanted.
Something he felt had to be done.
Too much evil had been perpetrated by the ninja system as it was. Given the chance to change it – to prevent tragedies like the rise of the Akatsuki, the fall of Uzushiogakure, the endless cycles of massacres, genocides, and blatant violations of human rights –
He couldn't just hope things would unfold as neatly as they had in canon. He couldn't leave it to someone else and trust that it would all work out in the end. How much more misery and tragedy would be required before that point? And even if Naruto eventually became Hokage, were things truly as good as they could be afterward?
Yohei didn't know.
He didn't even know whether the fragments he remembered about Boruto would hold true in this world.
What he had already accepted, however, was that his goal was vague. He didn't yet know what exactly needed to be changed. He didn't know how to change it – or what to change it into.
And now, he was forced to confront another truth.
He didn't even fully understand the system he wanted to change.
'I still have a lot to learn, huh?'
Seeing the expressions on his genin's faces, Hayama nodded with satisfaction. Inwardly, he congratulated himself for having improvised that little speech – one that, if nothing else, would save him from listening to weeks of whining like he had endured with his last team during their first stretch of D-Rank missions.
"Good. Now that you understand," Hayama said, clapping his hands together once, "I'll lay out the instructions for this mission."
He raised a finger. "Each of you will need to take out ten trees. You're free to divide them up however you want. And to be clear – I'm not talking only about cutting the trunks. You'll also be uprooting them from the ground."
Three fingers now. "You are not allowed to use any jutsu for this. Only chakra used to strengthen your body. That includes that jutsu of yours, Yohei." His eyes flicked briefly in Yohei's direction. "And chakra flow is forbidden as well, Souma. For that matter, don't even use your sword."
He gestured toward a nearby tree, where three woodcutter's axes had been left sunk into the trunk. "If you want to use tools, you're free to take those axes."
'If you want to use tools!?' Yohei screamed internally. 'What the fuck, sensei? Do you expect us to just pull those big-ass trees out of the ground, or to Minecraft this shit?'
"Why would the client ask for something like that?" Ren asked, despair written plainly across his face, while Souma stared mournfully down at his sword.
"Oh, it wasn't the client," Hayama explained casually. "This is expressly for your training. Also, feel free to start whenever you like – the sooner you finish, the sooner we can head back so you can bathe and eat."
"Yes, sensei," they chorused, each with a different level of enthusiasm.
They moved toward the tools, each grabbing an axe. Souma immediately held his by the bottom of the handle and swung it through the air like a sword, testing its balance. Hayama gave him a dry look that Souma either didn't notice – or chose to ignore.
"So," Yohei said, glancing between his teammates, "how do we divide this?"
"Meh," Ren shrugged. "No need to overthink it. Let's just spread out enough that we don't hit each other with falling trees."
"Even if we do," Souma added, finishing a short series of practice katas with the axe, "that's just endurance training, right?"
Yohei snorted, then burst out laughing.
Ren's eye twitched as he turned slowly toward the taller boy.
"No, Souma," Ren denied with a twitching eye, "that'd be speed training – seeing how fast you can rush to get me to the hospital before I fucking die."
Souma's eyes widened. He nodded solemnly, as if absorbing critical information. "How much time do you think I'd have?"
Yohei collapsed further, laughter bordering on wheezing.
Ren let out a long, defeated groan. "Please don't hit me with a falling tree, Souma."
"I won't," Souma promised seriously.
"Thanks," Ren replied flatly.
As the laughter slowly died down, Yohei felt an idea take shape. A way to check something off his mental to-do list and test the inner workings of the Chaos Scroll in a controlled environment.
He straightened and looked toward their sensei.
"Hey, sensei," Yohei called out, "can we make bets while doing the mission?"
Hayama looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a small, amused smile. "Absolutely forbidden on any mission of C-Rank and above. Any kind of distraction can be fatal in our line of work. But D-Ranks are safe enough that it shouldn't be a problem."
He paused, then blinked. "Well, technically, betting falls under the umbrella of 'money' in the Three Shinobi Prohibitions. But most shinobi I've met don't treat them as absolute rules. As long as you don't let something like that dominate your life, you should be fine."
"'Money, women, and alcohol,' right?" Ren asked thoughtfully.
Hayama nodded once.
"And what's your vice, sensei?" Yohei asked with a grin.
"Ask me again when you're older," Hayama replied dismissively, earning a chuckle from all three genin.
"Alright then," Ren said, turning back to Yohei. "What kind of bet were you thinking about?"
Souma was watching with clear interest now.
"Simple," Yohei said easily. "The last one to finish all their trees pays for the others' lunch."
Ren's eyes went flat. "And why would I accept this bet when I'm the weakest one here?"
Yohei's smile turned sly as he slung an arm around Ren's shoulders. "Well, the way I see it, we all have our advantages. Sure, Souma's the best with a weapon – but that's a sword, not an axe. I might be stronger than you two, but without Muscle Assault it's not some insurmountable gap. And yeah, you're the weakest – but you're also the most dexterous."
He gestured toward the trees. "None of us is strong enough to just yank these things out of the ground. We'll all have to dig and cut the roots, and I bet you'll have better luck with that than either of us. Besides, as long as you're not the last one, you don't lose."
Ren's eyes narrowed, a glint of challenge appearing in them. "And what does the first one to finish get?"
Yohei tilted his head, thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Bragging rights?"
Ren and Souma exchanged a glance before both of them nodded and extended their hands.
"Deal."
Yohei grinned and shook it – only to be yanked off balance as Ren suddenly pulled him forward. He hit the ground with a startled grunt as Ren bolted away, axe already in hand, and started hacking at the nearest tree.
"Ha! You loser better move quickly – this area's mine!"
"You little-!"
Before Yohei even managed to get back to his feet, Souma had already moved farther away and begun his own work, forcing a curse out of him.
Instead of grabbing an axe, Yohei sprinted toward the tree at the far edge of the marked area. He dropped to his knees, skidding across the dirt to save time, and immediately started tearing into the ground with his hands, digging wide swathes of earth away to expose the tree's roots.
As soon as he had cleared away enough earth, however, instead of cutting through the exposed roots, Yohei leaned forward and-
Chomp.
He bit clean through a thick root, his teeth tearing through the tough wood as if it were butter. He spat out the mouthful of bark and splinters, then immediately bent down again, jaws snapping shut around another root and ripping it apart.
His teammates stared at him in horrified fascination.
Nearby, Hayama-sensei drew deeply on years of discipline to maintain a mildly amused expression, even as he cackled internally.
It only took a few minutes before Yohei was finished. He straightened, mouth stained with dirt and flecks of bark, then dropped into a squat and wrapped his arms around the tree's trunk.
His muscles tensed.
Grrrrrk – !
With a guttural grunt of effort, he slowly hauled the tree free of the earth, roots tearing loose with a wet, sucking sound. Then, with a sharp exhale, he heaved it backward, flinging it over his shoulder where it crashed to the ground behind him.
"Oh, that's so much fucking bullshit," Ren accused flatly.
He blinked – and immediately swore when he realized Souma had already gone back to chopping his own tree, forcing him to scramble into action as well.
Yohei laughed loudly, spitting dirt from his mouth as he moved on to the next tree and began excavating the ground around its base once more.
-~=~-
"I hope you're proud of yourself," Ren said flatly.
"Oh, I am," Yohei agreed with a grin.
An hour and a half later, they had finished their first mission and returned to report it. The expressions on the mission desk staff – and on the Hokage himself – when Yohei walked in with his face and clothes caked in dirt would remain one of his most jealously guarded memories for a long time.
Afterward, they showered in the Academy's bathrooms, changed clothes, and headed out to the restaurant where they now sat.
Yohei had, of course, won.
Souma placed second, and Ren – predictably – came in third, despite his various attempts at trickery.
More important than having his meal paid for, or even the bragging rights – which he fully intended to exploit as much as possible – was the new weight he felt in his chest, where the Chaos Scroll rested.
The joy of uncovering one of the artifact's mechanics, and the relief that came with yet another confirmation that taking lives wouldn't be necessary for him to grow stronger, left him wearing a permanent smile.
A smile that came off as… smug.
Which, in turn, left a certain red-eyed teammate more than a little pissy.
To be fair to Ren, though, Yohei was feeling a decidedly non-zero amount of smugness.
"I wonder what a girl would think if she knew you literally ate dirt," Ren said with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Like that pretty jōnin at the mission desk. She wasn't there when we went back, but maybe she'll be tomorrow. Do you think she'd find it attractive? I'm sure any girl would love kissing a guy with worms in his mouth."
Yohei's permanent smile vanished instantly as he shot Ren a glare. "You wouldn't dare."
"I wouldn't?" Ren asked, eyebrow raised, a slow smile creeping onto his face.
Yohei narrowed his eyes further, which only made Ren's grin widen.
Their staring contest was abruptly cut short when Hayama slapped both of them upside the head.
"Stop bickering, you two," their sensei chided. "Why can't you be more like Souma? He came in second, but he's neither mad nor gloating."
That drew their attention to the fourth member of the group. Souma sat blissfully detached from the conversation, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's, mouth completely full of rice as he ignored them and shoveled in another bite.
Yohei and Ren stared at him in stunned silence.
Ren scoffed. "Easy to be satisfied when someone else is paying for your meal."
Yohei rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I'll pay for it next time," he promised easily.
Ren glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, hesitated for a moment, then sighed before turning fully toward him, a challenging look on his face. "Next time, I'll make you pay. You're not the only one who can make bets, pal."
'You mean more opportunities to get rewards? Yes, please.'
Grinning at the thought, Yohei extended his hand.
"Deal."
[Chapter 12 – Dangerous Waters]
After they finished eating, Hayama allowed them half an hour to rest. The three genin spent it talking, joking, and generally burning off the last of their excess energy before their sensei finally stood from the table and motioned for them to follow him to Training Ground Twenty-One.
Unlike the one used for their test, this training ground lay within the village walls, though it was still fairly close to them – located in the north-western section of Konoha. Like most training grounds, it was largely left in a natural state, but this one had a few notable features. It sat on elevated terrain, and a branch of the Naka River cut through it, forming a small waterfall that filled the area with the constant sound of running water.
Once they arrived, the three genin sat down on the ground, while their sensei settled atop a rock facing them.
"From now on," Hayama began, "we'll be doing one D-Rank mission every morning, five days a week. Since none of you are orphans or in immediate need of money, we'll restrict ourselves to just the one and use the remaining time for training."
He folded his arms loosely. "Before we get to that, though, I need to know more about you. As I said when we first met, I've read your files. During our test, I also got a clearer picture of your abilities in a practical setting – and some firsthand experience with talents you weren't able to properly demonstrate at the Academy."
His gaze moved between them. "So here's my question. How do you see yourselves in the future? When you imagine yourselves as chūnin – or even jōnin – what does that look like? What do you want to learn, and how do you intend to specialize?"
Ren was the first to respond. He raised his hand, earning a nod from Hayama-sensei before speaking.
"My family – the Kouen – have been developing a Hiden for a few generations now," he explained. "It's basically a mix of Fire Release and genjutsu that we call Kouen Mõrõ. That's what I want to focus on."
He continued more confidently as he spoke. "My chakra control is the best in my family for my age, and I've got more chakra than most of them – though it's still nothing to brag about. I know I'll never be able to use it freely, but I want to hone it past what anyone before me managed."
Ren shifted slightly. "Alongside that, I think my best option is to keep working on my bukijutsu and poisons. It's something I'm good at, and the way we passed the test gave me a new appreciation for it. Plus," he added, a small smile tugging at his lips, "weakening targets with poison makes them more susceptible to genjutsu. It all comes full circle."
Hayama listened until Ren finished, then nodded in understanding. "While my natural affinity is Wind, I trained Fire as my secondary. There's an abundance of training material for it, and it pairs well with many techniques, so I can certainly help you there."
He continued calmly. "I can't say I'm the best there is with thrown weapons, but I'm passable enough to guide you for a good while – at least until you reach the point where you'll need to refine things on your own or seek another instructor."
He made a complicated face. "As for poisons… I have someone in mind who could help you, but we'll see how it goes."
Hayama sighed softly. "Normally, I'd also recommend some lessons with colleagues of mine who are more adept at the illusionary arts. However, as I understand it, you genjutsu users are a rather secretive bunch with your techniques – and I can't imagine a family trying to turn their specialty into a Hiden would be any looser with them."
He raised an eyebrow.
Ren answered with a shrug and a helpless smile, nodding in agreement.
"In that case," Hayama went on, "I'll look into getting you some materials you can study on your own. And in the future, I'll keep it in mind if we ever get the opportunity to face another genjutsu user."
So you can wrench his secrets out of him, Yohei supplied mentally, catching the wide smile that spread across Ren's face at the thought.
"Beyond that," Hayama continued, "standard physical training with increased focus on mobility, agility, and stamina."
He put particular emphasis on the last word, shooting Ren a knowing look. Ren laughed sheepishly in response.
"That, coupled with chakra control training, should be enough to boost your reserves and help you in every aspect of your future development. Good." He nodded to himself. "I already have a few ideas on how we'll go about it."
His gaze shifted. "Next – Souma."
Souma lifted his sword in Hayama's direction.
The sensei returned the gesture with a dry look.
Only after a few seconds did Souma seem to realize that this alone wasn't a sufficient answer. He cleared his throat and lowered the sword to rest across his lap. "Kenjutsu, chakra flow, and nature transformation, sensei."
"I imagine," Hayama began dryly, "that by 'nature transformation' you mean only the first step of elemental release, yes?"
Souma nodded firmly.
That earned a short huff of amusement. "Honestly, I think you'll benefit the most from my training, since our fighting styles are so similar. I don't recognize your sword style, though – I assume that's being handled by your mother?"
"Yes," Souma replied. "My mother was a student of the Yahan Issen-ryū dōjō. My own style is a version of it mixed with my father's."
Hayama nodded his assent. "In that case, I'll provide you with a sparring partner and a personalized training regimen designed to take advantage of your speed and resilience. I'll be damned if you don't become one of the fastest shinobi in the village by the time I'm done with you," he added with a smile.
"Beyond that, guiding you in improving your chakra flow should be easy enough. I can also give you pointers on how to begin implementing nature transformation into it – though having Lightning as your nature will make that a bit of a challenge…"
"My mom can help," Yohei said, making the others turn toward him as he shrugged. "Her nature's Lightning too, and I know for a fact she can use it alongside chakra flow – though I've only seen her do it with senbon before."
"And she'd be amenable to teaching your teammate?" Hayama asked.
Yohei smiled and gave them a double thumbs-up. "My mom's the best. Besides, helping Souma is the same as helping me, since we'll be protecting each other."
Yohei's eyes went wide as he noticed Souma shift from sitting cross-legged to kneeling, his hands planting themselves on the ground as he began lowering his head into a dogeza –
Or he would have, if Yohei hadn't rushed forward in a panic, stopping him mid-motion while the other two watched with open amusement.
"Hey! No – there's no need for that! Really!" Yohei blurted out, grabbing Souma and hauling him back upright. "I'm not doing anything! If you want to thank someone, thank my mom – but don't do a dogeza for her either!"
He punctuated the words by patting Souma on the shoulders.
Souma responded with a blinding smile and a sharp nod. "Hm!"
Yohei let out a relieved sigh.
Hayama chuckled lowly. "If you're quite done?"
Yohei gave Souma one last pat before returning to his seat.
"Good," Hayama said. "Now, with that taken care of – what about you, Yohei? What kind of shinobi do you see yourself becoming in a few years?"
'In a few years…'
Yohei honestly had no idea.
There was no helping it. Usually, shinobi worked with what they were handed at birth – innate chakra reserves, bloodline limits, family techniques, elemental affinity – and made the best of it.
But Yohei?
What he had a week ago and what he had now were two completely different worlds.
The Forever Fangs.
The Shinsōgan.
Extreme Muscle Assault.
Thousand-Sound Perception.
Iron-Body Transformation.
Ever-Blooming Essence.
Mugetsu.
All of them were things he hadn't possessed before – things that had already reshaped his fighting style and the way he approached problems. And they were just the beginning. Even now, he already had another 'Reward' waiting to be claimed.
What about tomorrow?
What about in a week? A month? A year?
He had no way of knowing what he would gain next – or whether it would once again upend his entire methodology.
…But he couldn't think like this.
This way of thinking was a trap.
Even if he had access to a potentially infinite number of tools –
'I don't have the infinite time required to train them.'
Despite how easily he'd learned and applied Extreme Muscle Assault and Thousand-Sound Perception, he knew he hadn't come close to their true potential. He hadn't honed them to perfection. That would take time – and he'd never reach that point if he kept jumping from one new ability to the next.
'I need to funnel it down,' he realized. 'Choose a path, and only incorporate what fits.'
Of course, if he had the time and the opportunity, adding new weapons to his arsenal would always be welcome – but stretching himself too thin would only end one way.
Torn apart.
Which left him with two questions.
What should Yohei's path be?
And what the hell should he do with the rewards that didn't fit him?
…
Looking at his team, a smile came unbidden to Yohei's lips.
'I think I have an idea.'
That idea, however, came bundled with an entire host of complications he'd need to think through eventually.
'Later,' he decided.
He lifted his gaze back to his jōnin-sensei, who had been patiently waiting for his answer.
"I'm good at taijutsu, sensei," Yohei said. "I think my best bet is to keep going down that path – especially considering my Extreme Muscle Assault technique. That's something I want to develop further, along with other similar body-based techniques."
Hayama listened without interrupting, nodding slightly.
"You already know I have a Water affinity," Yohei continued. "It's completely untrained right now, but I'd like to at least learn the basics for utility, if nothing else. And… something that isn't in my files, since I only discovered it recently – I have a Yang affinity. I've been working with it alongside my mom, mostly through iryōninjutsu. I'm just starting out, but I want to take that as far as I can."
His sensei smiled down at him, one eyebrow lifting.
"So – taijutsu, body techniques, and iryōninjutsu, with a minor focus on Water Release?" Hayama let out a short laugh. "If Tsunade-sama were still in the village, I think she might've taken you as an apprentice."
He shook his head then, his expression turning thoughtful.
"Unfortunately, much like Souma will likely benefit the most from my direct teaching, you're the one who'll benefit the least." Hayama raised a hand before Yohei could react. "As a jōnin, my taijutsu is solid – but it's not something I've invested in deeply enough to truly bring out your full potential. I have no experience with Yang Release or medical ninjutsu, and I've never even touched Water Release."
He paused – then grinned slightly.
"However," he emphasized, "I can help you build a strong foundation. I can push your physical conditioning, refine your use of techniques, and sharpen your combat instincts. As for your specialties – since you already have iryōninjutsu and Yang Release covered through your mother, I know exactly who I can ask to help you with taijutsu and Water Release."
"Who?" Yohei asked, interest sparking immediately.
Hayama lifted a finger to his lips. "I'll leave that as a surprise."
He rose to his feet, and the genin followed suit.
"Now," he said calmly, "all of you strip down to your underwear – or don't. Just be warned that keeping your clothes on will make your training harder."
Ren let out an exaggerated shriek, dramatically crossing his arms over his chest while barely hiding a grin. "Sensei, you pervert!"
Hayama gave him a flat look. "Actually, I've changed my mind. Yohei and Souma can take theirs off. Ren – you keep yours on."
Yohei snickered as Ren's expression shifted from teasing bravado to genuine alarm. He quickly divested himself of his many layers of clothing, stripping down to black boxers and luxuriating in the feel of wind against his skin and grass beneath his feet.
"Good," Hayama said with a nod, then tilted his head toward the river. "Now get in the water."
"Eh, sensei," Ren said weakly, "when you said 'get in the water,' you didn't mean, you know… a lake or a pool, right? You meant the river. The one with the strong current. The one that leads directly to a waterfall just a couple of meters away."
"I did, yes," Hayama replied mildly.
"Oh. Good to know I understood correctly," the red-eyed boy muttered, dragging his feet forward in open resignation.
Souma was already in the water by the time Yohei reached the riverbank, having been momentarily distracted by Ren's suffering. The white-haired boy swam with picture-perfect form, eyes locked forward – and Yohei understood why the moment he stepped in himself.
The current wasn't just fast.
It was strong.
Heavier than he'd expected, somehow – dense, almost oppressive – and it took real effort just to stay in place instead of being dragged downstream.
Effort that would be far greater for Ren, Yohei realized, given that the boy was still fully clothed. The fabric increased drag, weighed him down, and made every movement harder. Still, Ren endured it without complaint, even as suffering was written plainly across his face.
Once all three of them were in the water, Hayama-sensei approached and sat down on the riverbank, reclining comfortably against a stone.
"Good. Now, I know this requires focus, but I want you all to pay attention," he said calmly. "As I told you earlier, we'll be doing five missions a week, and your training will follow that same schedule."
He lifted one finger.
"On the first day – which is today – our focus will be general body conditioning. I'll diversify things starting next week, but for now your task is simple: just swim."
A second finger.
"Tomorrow, we'll work on chakra exercises – both to improve your control and expand your reserves. That will include basic, non-elemental techniques."
A third.
"On the following day, we'll focus on your physical disciplines – taijutsu for Yohei, kenjutsu for Souma, and bukijutsu for Ren, with sparring between you mixed in."
A fourth.
"On the fourth day, we'll work on ninjutsu – and in Ren's case, genjutsu as well."
And finally, a fifth finger.
"On the fifth day, we'll put everything you learned during the week into practice, through either combat or survival training."
He clasped his hands together over his stomach.
"The remaining two days are for rest. No missions, no official training sessions. That said," he added mildly, "barring any extraordinary situations, I'll still be available if you need help with something you're struggling with. You're also free to train on your own – and I do expect you to maintain at least a light level of exercise."
His smile sharpened just a little.
"I'd hate to see one of you have grown rusty during Physical Conditioning. Why, I think I'd have to go extra hard on whoever did that to make up for the lost days."
"Understood?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of amused malice.
"Yes, sensei!" the genin chorused quickly.
"Wonderful," Hayama said, closing his eyes as he leaned back more comfortably against the stone.
Ren sputtered as a surge of water slammed into his face, choking the words out of him between frantic breaths.
"W–wait! Sensei-!" he gasped, coughing as he swallowed more river than air. "H–how long are we supposed to keep swimming?!"
"Hm?" Hayama hummed lazily, not even opening his eyes. "Oh, don't worry about such trifling details, my genin." He shifted slightly against the stone, settling in more comfortably. "I'll take a nap. Perhaps I'll feel satisfied with your training once I wake up, yes?"
Ren made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gurgle.
"Oh, of course," Hayama continued mildly, "it would be terribly irresponsible of me to let one of you fall down the waterfall." He cracked one eye open, glancing at them. "So beyond keeping yourselves in place, if you notice any of your teammates starting to struggle too much, I want the other two to help keep him afloat until he recovers."
His tone sharpened just a fraction.
"Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to double the intensity of your training during our next session."
That got everyone's attention.
He opened both eyes then, fixing them with a sharp look and a smirk. "Of course, worse than being punished is disobeying your sensei. And since I told you to swim, I want you to swim."
The current surged again, dragging at their bodies.
"So," Hayama continued pleasantly, "if you ever have to choose between getting out of the water and falling down the waterfall – fall down the waterfall." He waved a hand dismissively. "The height isn't enough to seriously injure any of you, and I assure you it would be far preferable to what I'll do if you step onto land."
He tilted his head. "Understood?"
"Yes, sensei!" they shouted back in unison – though this time, despair seeped unmistakably into their voices. Especially Ren's, who looked one strong wave away from tears.
"Good luck, then," Hayama said warmly.
With that, he closed his eyes again and returned to his nap, leaving three genin battling the river, the current, and the growing realization that this was only the first day of training.