A couple of days passed, filled with exhausting training. I noticed how my routine began to change—now, alongside Guy and me, Hayama officially trained as well. It turned out he had graduated only recently, literally this year, and—to my surprise—from that very class where future celebrities studied: Obito, Rin, Asuma, Kurenai.
He told a little about how their training went: the guys were roughly on the same level, only Asuma, as the son of the Third Hokage, stood out a bit more than the others.
"By the way, want to have a spar?" I asked, looking at Hayama during another training session. He looked resilient, physically strong, and I was curious to test him in taijutsu.
"Hey! I wanted to do that!" Guy jumped up, springing from a push-up position into a stance.
"After me, I asked first," I replied with a grin.
"In taijutsu, right?" Hayama clarified, brushing off his hands.
"Yes, but with chakra enhancement," I added, to make the fight closer to real combat.
"Well, in that case… sure," he said, a little uncertainly.
We stood facing each other. Guy sat slightly to the side, ready to watch.
"Let's begin," I said, channeling chakra into my legs and arms.
Hayama did the same: I felt the air around him grow slightly "heavier"—his muscles filled with strength. He lunged first—a straight strike to the torso. I managed to dodge to the side and countered with a low kick, but he blocked with his thigh and immediately spun with a backfist.
"Not bad, he doesn't hesitate," flashed through my mind.
We exchanged a series of blows—fist to the ribs, block, elbow from above, dodge, kick. All of it was accompanied by bursts of chakra—the strikes were much stronger than those of ordinary students. The dry pops of air echoed across the training ground.
Hayama was clearly betting on pressure—he pushed hard, not letting me pause. I shifted into defense, balancing between blocks and dodges, and at one point slipped under his arm. Grabbing his wrist, I yanked downward and kneed his shoulder.
"Tss!" he hissed, but held firm and countered: he seized my arm and tried to throw me over his hip. I managed to tuck, landed on the ground, and rolled away.
"You learn fast," I exhaled, standing up.
"I don't have a choice," he said seriously, and rushed forward again.
This time he used more legs. His strikes were sharp, explosive, trying to knock me off balance. I began answering in kind, and we merged into a continuous dance of strikes and blocks. One second—a fist passed a centimeter from my face, the next—my elbow nearly grazed his temple.
I felt my muscles start to burn, but I didn't want to stop. That very feeling of competition, the one I had agreed to this sparring for, ignited inside me.
"If he keeps training with this persistence," I thought, blocking another strike, "he might really become something."
So I decided to test his endurance—gathering chakra in my legs, I suddenly accelerated and launched an attack with a combo I had practiced with Guy: three quick body strikes, a spin, and a kick to the head.
Hayama managed to block two, but the third knocked him to the ground.
Breathing heavily, he propped himself on his elbows, smiled, and said:
"Wow… I almost missed all of that."
"Well, for a first time you held out quite well," I offered him my hand.
All those trainings with a taijutsu genius do bear fruit, a thought flickered.
He smirked, grabbed my hand, and stood up.
"Tomorrow—rematch," he said confidently.
Guy couldn't take it anymore and rushed toward us:
"Enough talk! Now it's my turn! Who among you is ready to face eternal youth?!"
"Doesn't look like it—you see, everyone's gathering there," I said, pointing to the huge crowd forming in the camp's center.
"Later then!" Guy waved it off, straightened his shoulders, and ran ahead. Hayama and I followed after him.
We pushed through the dense rows of shinobi and soon stood among the rest. The murmur of voices died down when two figures stepped onto the wooden platform—a stern Fugaku and Koharu. She annoys me, I thought.
"It's starting in about ten minutes," someone muttered nearby, but everyone quickly fell silent.
Fugaku stepped forward, looked over the crowd, and began in a loud, confident voice amplified by chakra:
"As you know, after we destroyed the Stone camp, the threat in this area has greatly diminished. But the war is not yet over. Command has decided: part of the forces will be transferred to other zones to support our troops."
The old woman nodded, adding in her raspy voice:
"Today new team formations will be assigned. Each of you must be ready to receive orders and depart tomorrow at dawn."
"Teams nominated and approved will be assembled into squads and by morning will head to their new positions! Clear?" Fugaku finished sharply.
"Yes!" the crowd shouted in unison, and the air quivered from the single voice.
I felt my back tense.
"Wonder where they'll send us," Guy muttered, adjusting his headband.
"You weren't listening—they said only some, not everyone," I smirked, though I was nervous myself.
Hayama stood silent, his eyes burning with resolve, drinking in every word.
After a short pause Fugaku began reading the lists. Team names and individuals echoed across the camp; people exchanged glances, some rejoiced, others frowned upon hearing their assignments.
To be honest, staying here would've been the best option, I thought, listening to the monotonous voice blending with camp noise. I could calmly develop, gain experience in the rear, and not be as troubled.
But fate decided otherwise.
"Border with Kumogakure… Team Four!"
I shivered, as if cold water had been poured down my back.
Why?! flashed through my mind.
I immediately realized this wasn't a normal assignment. The Kumo border was always considered one of the most tense sectors. Their squads were fast, aggressive, fond of sudden raids. And we… we were just a group that until recently had mostly done support and clean-up.
"Whoa…" Guy exhaled, his smile fading for a moment. But then he shook his head and shouted:
"Then this is our chance! Youth is forged only in the fire of battle!"
"Youth or not, but Kumo is a whole other level," Genma muttered, squinting and rubbing his shoulder.
I stood still, feeling my hand slide unconsciously toward my sleeve. Where the scroll had been hidden all this time. Earth Clone technique… useless against lightning. But maybe I should at least try to understand its basics?
"Hey, what's with you?" Hayama nudged me with his elbow.
"Thinking," I answered, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.
"No need to think!" he suddenly smiled, though fear was visible in his eyes too. "If they're sending us there, it means we can handle it."
Naïve… I thought. But I did feel a little lighter. His confidence, foolish as it was, dispersed the cold inside.
"All those assigned to the Kumogakure border!" the voice thundered again. "Prepare by nightfall! Departure before dawn tomorrow!"
The crowd stirred. Some argued hastily, some checked their weapons right on the spot, some silently lowered their heads.
And I caught myself thinking: If we're being sent into the flames, then there I will either grow stronger, or…
I didn't finish the thought.