I and Nakamura-sensei laughed, passing the time until midnight came… and went.
***
Fear… it's been a while.
Outside a large warehouse deep in the woods, surrounded by a tall metal fence, we Talents perched in formation like sentinels. In reality, we were nothing more than witnesses to a brutal confrontation.
"Aaaaargh!"
BOOM!
CLANK! CLANG!
"Gyaaaahhhh!!"
SLASH! CRUSH! SPLAT!
It was as if a wild animal—no, a Kaiju—had descended upon them.
Mere wild animals couldn't contend with the Elites, after all.
We all remained crouched on the fence, our faces grim with terror, as we watched thirty elite adult ninjas be crushed by only three people… three Saints.
From time to time, one of the adults would try to escape, but an invisible force would tear them apart, reducing them to shredded rags of flesh and piles of broken bones.
Screams of agony and despair filled the entire area, ringing in our ears like an orchestra from hell.
Before long, a figure bolted out of the warehouse.
She wore a yellow, skintight outfit, and a baggie trouser like military attire. It looked like something from a superhero comic, with a stylized "S" emblazoned near her heart.
We tensed instantly, our hands gripping the hilts of our blades.
"They brought brats?" she scoffed. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time we've blended children into the ground… Hey, leave now and I'll guarantee your lives."
We were shaken to the core. This woman and her allies had just overwhelmed the elite fighters among the adults without a visible scratch. What chance did we have against her?
Even so, retreating would be no different from dying on the spot.
At Shizuka's signal, we all dove in for the kill.
"You humans lack understanding," she said with a small nod. "Die."
SMACK!!
She raised her hand, her eyes glowing green, but before she could act, a blur of motion slammed into her, sending her flying a considerable distance.
It was Nakamura-sensei. Blood ran from his scalp, and his black shinobi shozoku (Ninja attire) hung in tatters on his body.
"It's not funny, here! Leave immediately!" he instructed us in a strained voice.
"I'm sorry, but we can't do that," Shizuka replied.
Her hands trembled on her Shinobigatanas, but her face stayed stoic.
"The order I received was to defend the outside of this place until death."
"Well, I'm telling you to leave!" Nakamura-sensei shouted. "You will all certainly die if you stay here! Tell the Chief I defied his orders and sent you back."
THUD!!
The woman landed again, her green curly hair swaying, as her swift descent created a crater beneath her feet.
"That was a nice strike for a human… you ARE human, right?" she asked, her green eyes locking on Nakamura-sensei. "I also don't want to murder little kids. I'm in favor of sending them away. Do it quickly, so I can kill you sooner. My schedule is packed."
Nakamura-sensei glanced over his shoulder at us, and every single Talent there shuddered.
The bloodlust radiating from him was so intense it seemed to seep into our bones, making them feel heavy and cold.
"Shizuka, lead them away… or I will personally kill you all."
Deep down, we knew Nakamura-sensei was not serious. But the fear he instilled in us made us… unsure.
"Y-Yes," Shizuka answered, a cold sweat rolling off her face.
Then we left at once, moving in an orderly retreat.
I looked back at Nakamura-sensei one more time… In this world… he was one of the few who took care of me.
I loved him like a father.
He gave me a thumbs-up and smiled.
I turned away and ran.
*
That was the last time I saw Nakamura-sensei… or any of the adults who fought that night.
But they completed the mission with flying colors.
The higher-ups had finished their dealings swiftly and escaped, while the adults bought them the time they needed.
It went exactly as planned.
That is the underworld I was born into.
On the surface, I am a middle schooler with a cheerful façade. But when night falls… I become one of the Talents, a chosen elite of the Yamigami hidden ninja clan.
***
When I was six years old, my parents—both equally dreadful ninjas—handed me over to a special program run by an organization associated with our clan.
From that young age, my life became hell, and it has mostly stayed that way to this day.
Harsh training was forced upon us day in and day out. Some of us even died during the process.
We were made to endure brutal terrains, scorching deserts, freezing winters, relentless hunger, and, at one point, we were taken to the Middle East for an absurd form of "death intimacy" training, were we'd be told to infiltrate palaces and military bases.
We were not allowed to cry—truthfully, we could not even if we wanted to.
We were forced to battle predators such as grizzlies, tigers, and gray wolves. Our numbers dwindled quickly.
Every day of my life, from the age of six to thirteen, was a literal fight just to survive.
We were fed at the same level as the hounds, and sometimes we had to attack those very hounds and steal their food, and sometimes, their flesh… earning scars as proof of the brutal struggle, of course.
After several years of this, I laid hungry and weak in the barn I was dropped, truly believing I was going to die again. But I held on to the Chief's promise:
"The ones who pass this little test will become prodigies of high standing; with far better benefits than the rest of the clan members."
That promise meant there might be a life waiting for me beyond this hell.
So I worked… I trained, I studied, I refused to fall a second time.
Seduction techniques, ninjutsu, espionage and assassination principles and codes, a variety of martial arts—I absorbed it all, alongside Yasuna, Shizuka-sama, and the others.
Yasuna was always laughing and cheerful… yet she had suffered the most because of her frail and weak body at the time.
Once, we left her alone in a forest of some African land—with several wild dogs.
The next day, to my shock, she was—