Recognition and Rest
Who could have imagined that a mere team of newly graduated Genin—supposed cannon fodder—would delay the Kirigakure advance for nearly three days?
And today, they had even managed to escape the relentless pursuit of the Watermelon Mountain Pufferfish Ghost, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, for most of the day.
It sounded impossible.
A story straight out of myth.
But no one could deny what they had just seen. The battered form of the retreating Swordsman was proof enough.
---
"Yeah, I understand," Uchiha Shisui said calmly. His tone was gentle, but the authority behind his words was unmistakable.
"From now on, the three of you should rest. An ANBU unit will question you later, but for now—leave the rest to us."
The message was clear: they had done their part. Now, it was the elite's turn.
---
Within hours, more than a dozen large Konoha ships docked along the coast. Waves of shinobi disembarked—disciplined, focused, efficient.
Under Shisui's command, a new frontline camp rose swiftly on the beach.
Defensive barriers shimmered with chakra, sealing tags were placed, and patrol routes were established with flawless precision.
Compared to the chaotic "cannon fodder" forces from before, this elite unit was an entirely different breed.
---
Uchiha Jin and his teammates, Nara Kazama and Kudo Nobu, were assigned to a tent near the medical division.
Roughly two hours later, an ANBU squad entered—masks gleaming under the lamplight—and began a formal debriefing.
It was standard procedure.
The previous frontline camp had collapsed after nearly a week of combat. The village needed to ensure that no one had defected or been turned.
But when the trio produced nearly fifty severed Kirigakure headbands, along with enemy kunai, shuriken, and other battlefield spoils, even the masked ANBU were momentarily silent.
Evidence that real blood had been shed—proof of survival through hell.
Any suspicion vanished.
If anyone still doubted them after this, it would have been inhuman.
Even politically, Konoha couldn't afford to treat returning survivors with distrust. Word would spread fast—and morale would crumble.
---
"Understood," the ANBU captain said finally.
"These Kirigakure headbands, weapons, and recorded kills will be sealed and archived for verification. Once confirmed, they'll be converted into official contribution points."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"After the report is finalized, it will be submitted to the Hokage. Expect a decision within two days. Until then, your team is to rest. No missions. Do not leave the frontline perimeter."
And with that, the squad vanished into the night.
---
None of the three showed worry. Exhaustion weighed heavier than suspicion.
They collapsed onto their bunks almost immediately, asleep within moments.
They had earned it.
Their deeds were real—and with manpower stretched thin across the warfront, even Danzo, if he tried, wouldn't dare make trouble now.
This new frontline was no longer a death camp. It was fortified, guarded, and secure.
For the first time in days, they could finally breathe.
---
When they awoke, the afternoon sun was filtering through the tent flaps.
They ate a simple meal—rice, dried fish, and soup—before settling back down to talk.
There were no missions assigned, and they knew the investigation wasn't over.
Even Shisui hadn't come to visit, a clear sign that they were effectively under soft house arrest until clearance was given.
It made sense. Their survival was too unlikely, their feats too large to accept without confirmation.
Still, it was better than being in a cell.
Time passed quietly.
Two days later, the same ANBU captain returned.
---
"After investigation," he began, voice steady, "your team's achievements have been confirmed beyond doubt. The Hokage has issued the following orders."
He unrolled a scroll.
"Kudo Nobu is hereby promoted to Elite Jōnin and reassigned as captain of a new frontline team.
Uchiha Jin and Nara Kazama are promoted to Chūnin by special exception.
Further deployment orders will follow."
The ANBU saluted briefly, then vanished once again.
---
For a moment, silence filled the tent.
Then, laughter broke out—half relief, half disbelief.
"Finally," Jin sighed, stretching lazily. "I thought they'd keep us under watch forever."
"Good news indeed," Kazama said with a faint smile. "No missions for now—so let's make the most of it. We've earned this break."
Nobu chuckled. "At least for tonight, I'm drinking."
He unfurled a storage scroll and released several flasks of sake and a spread of snacks.
He'd prepared them before deployment—just in case he survived long enough to celebrate.
If it weren't for the strict camp rules, he probably would've grilled some meat too.
---
For all his cunning, Uchiha Jin was no villain. His calculations were born of survival, not malice.
In a world ruled by bloodlines, war, and shadows, those who lacked foresight didn't live long.
After all—
this was the world of Naruto, not One Piece.
There were no miracles here. Only choices, consequences, and the will to endure.