Not long after we returned and left Shisui at the village gates, I was lying on the floor at home, still tired. Before I could drift into a quick nap, he stopped by the Senju compound. He waited outside, and when I stepped out to meet him, he took me straight to the hospital for what he called a routine checkup.
We sat in the waiting area until a nurse finally appeared and said, "We are ready for your routine checkup." It felt strange, but I went along with it.
Inside the room, the nurse seated me in front of a medical-nin and left. As soon as the door clicked shut, the medic slipped out the back door without a sound, and another doctor entered from the same way. That raised my suspicions at once. Is this related to him seeing Stormdrive for the first time?
The new doctor did not wear the Leaf's standard medical vest. His robe was plain white without insignia. His face held no warmth. Not unfriendly, just professional in a way that felt trained for secrecy. He gave me a short nod and motioned for me to lean back.
His chakra probe slid into me like a wire through water. Precise. Unnaturally controlled. Definitely not an ordinary hospital medic.
For the first minute his expression did not change. Then something flickered in his eyes. His fingers pressed deeper along my wrist, followed the flow up my arm, across my shoulder, and down toward my ribs.
"Unusual," he murmured. "Your coils are wider than expected."
I raised a brow. "Wider?"
He did not answer at once. His focus deepened, chakra spreading further through my body as if he were mapping the network by touch alone. His eyes stayed sharp, tracking the current like he could see every pathway under my skin.
"Normally," he said after a moment, "a shinobi's pathways stay fixed in their main routes with only minor variation. Yours have changed. The weaker side branches, the ones that usually stay small and carry little flow, have thickened and grown stronger. They now reach deeper into muscle tissue and nerve lines. Your system looks reinforced, as if it were rebuilt to carry more weight."
I kept my face calm, but my chest tightened. Stormdrive must be the reason.
He continued, his tone lower, almost thoughtful. "There are some signs of damage and scarring, but I see no ruptures and no tearing. This looks more like a change, an adaptation. As though your body rewired itself deliberately. Such remodeling should be impossible. Your system shows evidence of long-term change. It must have begun early while the network was still malleable, and it has continued to evolve in response to extreme strain."
I gave him a thin smile. "So I am either a medical miracle or a walking accident."
His eyes narrowed. "Neither. You are a shinobi whose chakra network has grown beyond the standard design. Your body has evolved to suit whatever you forced through it. That kind of adaptation carries risk. Push too far, and the same strain that reshaped you could shatter you."
He straightened. His gaze lingered on me long enough to feel like he was deciding how much to record and how much to bury. Then he spoke in a flat voice. "You are in acceptable condition. That is all anyone else needs to know."
He wrote a set of notes on a scroll and handed it to Shisui, who had stayed silent and watchful the entire time. He prepared another copy with fewer lines and said, "This will be for the hospital record." Without another word he slipped out the back door, quiet as if he had never been there.
Shisui looked at me. "Time to go."
"Yes, sensei."
Back at home, a nervous edge crept in as the quiet settled. Shisui must have told Hiruzen, which was why I had been steered into a private checkup disguised as a routine visit. They wanted to make sure my condition was stable and to decide on the next steps for training me. A small smile tugged at my mouth. Since I was not dragged into Root and made to disappear, it meant Hiruzen had actually done something right for once.
I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. I have to be careful not to show Stormdrive in front of the wrong people. I sighed. Sleep pulled me under fast, quiet and dreamless as always.
Genta woke me the next morning with his usual chaos. I opened my eyes to the sound of feet pounding down the hall and found a full chase going on in the house. Takemura was after him, trying to land a corrective smack on his only son and the last heir of the clan, while Genta darted around chairs and doorways like a rabbit.
"I told you not to bother him. He just returned from a long mission," Takemura barked.
"I was sitting without a sound until you came at me," Genta shot back, ducking past the doorway.
I sighed, which made Genta glance my way. He skid to a stop and grinned. "Oh. Noa, you are awake."
That heartbeat of distraction was all Takemura needed. He caught up and knocked him once on the crown. Genta rolled on the floor, groaning and holding his head like he had been struck by lightning.
"I am going to wash my face," I said, voice still heavy with sleep.
By the time I came back, father and son were joking for some reason, the way they always did after the storm passed. I sat across from them and rubbed my temples.
Takemura looked me over. "How are you feeling?"
"Just tired," I answered.
He nodded. "Good. If you returned from a C-rank with nothing worse than fatigue, then you did well."
A knock sounded at the door before I could reply. I stood, hoping it was not another summons from Shisui.I slid the door open and found Shizuru standing there with her usual calm expression. I leaned against the frame and smirked. "Are you getting shorter somehow?"
Her eyes narrowed, and she gave me a small shove to the side as she stepped past me without a word.
Sena followed right behind, waving like she owned the place. "Good afternoon," she said with a grin before slipping inside.
I glanced at the window. "Is it noon already?"
She nodded and sat. "We were supposed to meet at the usual place. You overslept."
I must have been more drained than I thought. I went to the kitchen, brought snacks and tea, and set the tray down.
"Sorry. I must have been really exhausted to miss our usual gathering." I set the tray down and poured tea for the others.
Shizuru accepted her cup with a small nod. Sena leaned back with that polished smile of hers. And Genta… Genta could not stay quiet for long and started complaining right away.
"Our jonin sensei is too stubborn and careful," he burst out, leaning forward. "We have not taken a real mission yet, just miserable little D-ranks."
"That caution is for your own good," Takemura said, tone firm. "He is an experienced jonin. If he says you are not ready, then you are not."
Shizuru nodded. "I think he is right. We still need to work on cooperation, formation, and tactics."
Genta rolled his eyes. "If it is up to you and him, we will never get a C-rank mission."
Takemura knocked the back of his head. "Then do better in training and in the mock mission scenarios he gives you."
"I do," Genta muttered.
Shizuru turned to me, trying to look casual while failing to hide her interest. "How was your first C-rank?"
"It was fine," I said with a shrug. "A bit dangerous, but it went mostly as expected."
Sena gave a soft laugh. She rested her chin on her hand and watched me over the rim of her cup. "That is interesting coming from the person who fought a chunin alone."
Takemura, Genta, and Shizuru spoke at the same time.
"What?"
Their voices landed with panic and surprise.
I gave Sena a look. "We had to hold a chunin for a while. It went well."
"Shisui must have stepped in," Takemura said. "There is no shame in that. His job is to prevent disasters."
I opened my mouth to agree and move on, but Sena kept her eyes on me and smiled like a cat.
"No. He beat the chunin without support."
I reached for a rice ball and considered throwing it at her, but it was already too late. Takemura, Genta, and Shizuru all leaned in at once, eyes fixed on me with grave interest.
I raised both hands. "I cannot share details. It was a mission."
That slowed them, disappointment flickering across their faces, though Takemura hid it better than the others. Only a little. Sena's smile turned bright and innocent, which meant trouble.
"I can tell you what happened," she said.