"Reporting to the deputy commander?"
Yako frowned. "Since when do ANBU need to report their missions to anyone but the Hokage?"
It wasn't an unreasonable reaction.
ANBU were directly subordinate to the Hokage alone. And with the Hokage too busy to oversee every mission personally, the ANBU Commander usually handled operational details.
That was the chain of command: the Hokage and the Commander—no one else.
But Yellow Dog replied calmly:
"The front-line command has the right to access all intel. Lord Hokage sent us here for one purpose: to win this war.
That said, don't mention the part about the Shimura clan's chūnin—just say they were ordinary prisoners.
Back when I first joined ANBU as a standard operative, our Captain was none other than Lord Sakumo. I couldn't just refuse a reasonable request from him."
Hatake Sakumo—during the Second Hokage's era—was the youngest, and most powerful, unit captain in ANBU history.
"I understand," Yako replied with a nod.
"Captain, my squad took heavy losses during this mission.
To sell the ruse of being captured, my men actually injured themselves. One shattered his own leg, another carved his scalp so deeply it looks like you could play shogi on the scars.
I'd like to request some ninjutsu rewards for them. Would that be permitted?"
Yellow Dog said, "Granted. Four B-rank jutsu. You assign them."
Yako found it lacking—but said nothing.
In Konoha, promotion through recommendation and jutsu authorization were the twin leashes used by the village elite to control its shinobi. And they held those leashes tight.
Jutsu authorization had been especially tightened lately—though mainly for civilian-born shinobi.
Ninja clans didn't face as many restrictions; they had clan techniques and secret arts to fall back on.
Yako mentally tallied up the jutsu he could spare from his own Earth and Water Release arsenal. A couple were safe to reveal.
Earth Release: Earth Longspear and Water Release: Water Formation Wall—these two could be handed out.
Add to that the four B-rank jutsu—perhaps a few Fire, Wind, or Lightning techniques—and it would make a passable reward package.
Yako stepped out of the ANBU tent and headed for the command tent.
After relaying a message to the medical station, Hatake Sakumo officially summoned him with an order. He preferred transparency—it gave ANBU no excuse to complain. Nara Shikakaku had been known to meet with Yellow Dog often, asking questions and discussing matters directly.
Inside the tent, Yako found Sakumo alone.
"Fox," Sakumo said with a faint smile. "You can relax. I said I wanted to ask about the prisoner exchange, but that's just a cover. No one else is here. No one's listening."
Yako let out a quiet breath. Sakumo had been ANBU once—he understood the value of secrecy.
Sakumo got straight to the point.
"At the medical station, I overheard you saying you support an assessment-based system. What are your thoughts on it?"
Chōta had once told Sakumo that an ANBU operative had saved him, and passed along a warning—urging caution around the village leadership. That someone was watching Sakumo's allies closely.
That ANBU had worn a fox mask.
Yako answered:
"Lord Sakumo, the idea of assessments for ninja ranks... it's nearly impossible to push through.
Genin can only take the chūnin exams with a team leader's recommendation.
Chūnin need a jōnin's endorsement to become tokubetsu jōnin. Tokubetsu jōnin need backing from the higher-ups to become full jōnin.
Each step is linked by recommendations. It's the backbone of how Konoha's leadership maintains control.
Even clan heads, if they want more jōnin within their ranks, are forced to bow to the elders.
You're too hasty, my lord.
The village has plenty of tools to sabotage an assessment system. Shikakaku, the Supreme Commander, relies on your strength, so he's been gentle. But if the higher-ups act directly, they won't be so forgiving."
Sakumo felt a chill run through him.
This ANBU—just a few words, and he'd already laid bare the trap Sakumo had stumbled into.
His push for merit-based advancement had run into resistance from all directions—from the Third Hokage, from the front lines, and even from within his own command structure.
"Then what do you think I should do, Fox?"
Yako replied:
"Lord Sakumo, a merit-based ranking system is too threatening to their authority. But a ninjutsu assessment system… now that's another story.
To the village, jutsu are a means of controlling civilian shinobi—but they're not as sacred as rank.
Jutsu can be extracted from enemy captives, learned from allies, or taught by squad leaders.
The Uchiha, with their Sharingan, can copy thousands of techniques.
If you were to lower the barrier for jutsu access—allowing more civilian shinobi to learn techniques and strengthen themselves—that would be significant.
With your strength and influence, implementing a jutsu assessment system is feasible.
Once that's in place, and people start benefiting from fair rewards based on performance, they'll begin to question…
Why can't the same apply to promotions?
Why must everything rely on recommendations?
This system would be a seed. Slow to grow… but one day, it will sprout."
Sakumo's eyes lit up.
Of course. Start with ninjutsu. Tie technique rewards to mission count—B-rank and even A-rank jutsu granted by merit. That was progress.
S-rank forbidden jutsu would never be part of such a system—but still, it was a step forward.
Yako added:
"Captain Yellow Dog said you summoned me under the pretense of asking about the prisoner exchange. I've written everything down in this scroll.
But, Lord Sakumo, you understand the nature of ANBU. I ask that you keep this conversation between us."
He trusted Sakumo's integrity. The man had principles—unlike some of the inhuman monsters lurking within Konoha's upper ranks.
"Of course, Fox," Sakumo said. "No one else will hear a word of what we discussed."
Yako gave a small nod. "Please avoid calling me in under such pretexts again, my lord. If done too often, ANBU may grow suspicious."
"I understand. Unless it's absolutely necessary, I won't summon you like this again."
Yako left the command tent.
In the original timeline, Hatake Sakumo took his own life after his beliefs crumbled.
He was a man of integrity. A man of faith.
Yako hoped his honest analysis would help Sakumo see him as a true ally.
If Sakumo pushed ahead with a ninjutsu assessment system, many civilian shinobi—desperate for techniques—would rally behind him.
A new faction would begin to take shape.
Power doesn't just flow from the top down—it can rise from the ground up. If enough people stood behind him, even the elders would have to yield.
The Senju clan controlled the medical system.
But if Sakumo could unite the civilian shinobi, the village leadership's grip would loosen further.
'Come on, Captain White Fang…' Yako thought.'If you don't fight, how can I give you a new cloak to wear?'
After Fox left, Sakumo was deep in thought.
At the medical station, he'd already noticed—the prisoners included a member of the Shimura clan, a Nara, and one unlucky civilian.
The command advisors all came from the Five Noble Clans aligned with the Hokage.
Anyone outside those clans wouldn't know about the rift between him and Commander Shikakaku.
Sakumo suspected the mission had been organized mainly to rescue those two clan shinobi.
During the Second Hokage's reign, ANBU didn't operate like this.
Back then, they would never arrange a mission solely to rescue a Senju.
In fact, to avoid favoritism, the Second would explicitly order: prioritize rescuing other shinobi—save the Senju last.
But now, ANBU—under the guise of being 'loyal only to the Hokage'—had become his personal weapon.
They were no longer the village's most secretive, most lethal kunai.
But Sakumo believed: ANBU shinobi were still human.
And maybe… some of them still resented what the organization had become.
He was going to draft a proposal for the ninjutsu assessment system.
Even if Shikakaku opposed it—this time, he would see it through.