Dozens of tents stretched out before us, like a small town in the heart of the forest. Someone was passing by with stacks of scrolls, someone else was dragging crates of supplies, and nearby, the command for a drill formation could be heard.
"First to the main tent, to confirm our arrival," said the chunin, exchanging glances with the others.
"Alright, let's go," Guy responded, looking around with his usual energy.
We headed toward the largest tent in the center of the camp — obviously, this was the headquarters. Two guards in full gear stood at the entrance, but as soon as we approached, a female voice came from inside:
"Come in."
The chunin pulled back the flap and stepped inside:
"Koharu-sama."
Inside it was much cooler than outside. Maps, reports, and scrolls with stamped marks lay on the table. Sitting at the table was Koharu Utatane herself, fully dressed as an advisor — a cold, attentive gaze and looking younger. Nearby stood a black-haired guy with a Konoha headband and the Uchiha emblem on his shoulder. He silently watched us, showing neither emotion nor interest.
"I am the escort for this group," the chunin began.
"Yes, several teams have arrived earlier. Give me the names, let them write them down, then proceed to the distribution point," Koharu interrupted him.
"Maito Guy,
Kotetsu Hagane,
Genma Shiranui,
Teiga Shimura," he listed.
"Shimura?.." I mentally repeated, looking at the guy with surprise. I knew that name. Shimura wasn't just one of the old clans of Konoha; it was an elite, albeit small, branch.
Why was he here? Punishment? Exile? Or was he really that strong?
But there was no time to think. We said goodbye to the chunin, who, as soon as he left the tent, pulled out a cigar with relief, struck a lighter, took a drag, and said:
"That's it. You're on your own now."
"Alright," I nodded. "Let's go to the tents. We need to claim spots before dark."
We moved toward the distribution sector, where, according to the camp map hanging nearby, they were supposed to show us which tent we would be living in now.
The distribution point turned out to be a gray tent with a harsh, almost military atmosphere. At the entrance stood two shinobi in standard armor. One of them sat behind a table and, without unnecessary words, waved us over.
"New recruits?" he asked, quickly scanning the three of us. "No team name, so temporary formation. Let me see…"
He flipped through a few pages of a thick journal and stopped:
"Tent B-17 is free. It's located in the southwest part of the camp, behind the ammunition storage. Don't litter, don't make noise. Instructions have been given to you, orders — follow them. You're dismissed."
We nodded shortly and headed in the indicated direction, weaving between other squads. Some ninjas looked at us tiredly, others indifferently. Someone was carefully sharpening kunai, someone was dozing off right by the crates.
"Strange place," Guy muttered, glancing around.
"War turns us all into… shadows," Genma replied.
I said nothing. We quickly found tent B-17: a standard military tent covered with protective fabric, a low ceiling, and three simple beds. Inside — empty, quiet. Only the smell of old gunpowder and dust.
I was the first to throw a scroll on the floor and unroll my sleeping bag, making a spot for myself.
"Looks like it's for a while," I sighed.
"You didn't have much choice," Genma smirked. "Welcome to the front line."
"Do you think they'll send us on missions soon?" Guy asked, settling on the next cot.
"Depends on the losses and situation. But they definitely won't let us rest long," I answered.
"Well then, send us out, maybe we can practice teamwork?" I asked the three of them as soon as I finished unpacking. We were just sitting anyway; might as well prepare a little.
"No," Genma replied without looking up from a small book he'd pulled from his bag. "We just arrived; I want to rest a bit. And honestly, I don't feel like it."
I glanced at Guy:
"What about you?"
"No need to ask me — I'm ready!" he answered enthusiastically, jumping up from the cot. "Movement is life! Youth demands discipline!"
I smirked and nodded.
"Well, then let's go."
We left the tent, leaving Genma inside. The air outside was cool but dry. The sun was already dipping toward the horizon, painting the camp in warm, slightly dusty shades. Shinobi bustled everywhere — someone carrying something, someone exchanging orders, and some clearly returning from missions: tired, dirty, but silent.
"But first," I said, "we need to find out where we can even train here. I don't think they'll let us run around using techniques just anywhere."
"I think so too," Guy nodded seriously. "Maybe we should ask the HQ guards or whoever handles distribution?"
I shook my head.
"Nope. Let's just walk around the whole camp. At the same time, we can look around, memorize the layout, check where the medical post and storages are. And maybe, we'll come across a training ground."
Guy gave a thumbs up.
"Alright!"
We moved through the camp, trying not to disturb anyone. The camp was much bigger than it seemed at first glance. Narrow corridors between rows of tents, the smell of smoke from field kitchens, fast footsteps of ninjas constantly heading somewhere for their tasks. Some glanced at us with mild curiosity, but no one stopped us. Judging by their gear and age, we were the juniors here.
"Look," Guy said, pointing to the far side of the camp, where burnt wooden training dummies and beaten earth rose behind a fence. "Looks like we found what we need!"
"Yeah," I nodded, watching as several shinobi threw shuriken at rough mannequins. The training ground had a businesslike atmosphere: some practiced close combat techniques, but mostly — they threw cold weapons.
"Why is everyone only using shuriken and kunai?" I muttered.
"Maybe they're saving chakra or just resting," Guy shrugged. "But hey… I have an idea."
He suddenly turned to me, his eyes sparkling:
"How about a sparring match? We train together all the time, but we've never actually fought for real. It's time to find out who's stronger!"
I was surprised but immediately felt excitement flare inside:
"Seriously?"
"Of course!" he answered enthusiastically. "No deadly techniques, of course. Only close combat, tactics, and minimal chakra. No blood — just a duel."
"Well, that's not really for real," I smirked, "but either way, I want to improve my taijutsu!" I said.