Takuma huffed and puffed as he ran around the village’s muddy roads fighting against his own worst enemy: gravity. The weight vest pulled down at his shoulders and he could feel it with every step. It had been five days since the return to base and two days since his abdomen had stopped hurting. That pain was replaced with muscle pain from lugging the weighted vest around all day long.

He was part of the wave of increased training and effort after the Gojiro Gold Mines operation.

Down in the pit, he felt rigid as he fought. It wasn’t his body not obeying him, he was in great shape. It was his lack of options. He hadn’t felt like that in a very long time, but the pit had been a new scenario for him.

The number of people on the ground differed from anything he had ever faced. It was almost flat terrain with no place to hide. There were as many allies as there were enemies, which was again as much of a problem as the environment because there were too many things to keep track of—allies might as well have been enemies at that point.

There was too much chaos, and the tools he currently had didn’t work for him—or at least he wasn’t using them properly.

He lacked a long-range option. Water Release: Wild Water Wave was a good jutsu; it had turned into something of a preference, but it didn’t do enough damage for him—it never did. It was always a setup for destabilizing the enemy before he was forced to go in close for a killing blow—and if he wasted that opportunity, he was always in danger. He needed something that didn’t require a follow-up every single time or at least did enough damage on its own to have some lasting effect. He had Lightning Release: Shock, but he sucked at it so much that it was an embarrassment. Even if he put in the extra-extra effort into improving the jutsu, it wasn’t worth it because of the D-rank classification. He wanted different things from his D-rank jutsu, and offensive capabilities were not one of them.

Second, he lacked a serious crowd-control jutsu. Something that would exert his control and influence over a larger group of people. As much as he adored Water Style: Hidden Mist Jutsu, it was terrible when he was working with allies, which was a harsh restriction. He needed something that wouldn’t involve his allies. Additionally, he had let his genjutsu progress go stale with the sudden war deployment

He was delighted with Earth-Style: Earthen Dome, Earth-Style: Hiding in the Rock Jutsu, and Earth-Style: Tremor Sense Jutsu—as they worked as intended with high efficiency. He did think he needed an offensive Earth ninjutsu option, which was in his plans.

The only problem was time.

Time…

He didn’t have any.

It seemed like he was chasing after a runner while being pulled down by his weighted gear. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch up. The feeling of helplessness, frustration, and anxiety weighed down on his heart. Had he been too focused on the current moment that he had neglected to keep the upcoming threats in mind?

He was fortunate to survive an enemy who had dismantled him before he could even move a finger to defend himself. The explosive tags were a last-moment, desperate gambit that had very luckily paid off.

Takuma had seen that man’s dead body. In fact, he was the one to pull the corpse onto the joint pyre. If the man had taken him on as an equal opponent, the situation, without a doubt, would’ve been different. He had been having dreams every night without fail since his return to the base—and his own bloody corpse had been a mainstay in his nightmares.

He had to figure out how to get in front of the problem.

“Takuma!”

Takuma came to a skidding stop and turned back to see Anko looking at him strangely. Only then did he notice that his lungs hurt and burned and his breathing was noisy. He looked down at the muddy ground and noticed how his strides were very uneven.

“…Toridasu and Shirakumo want to meet you,” Anko said to Takuma, who was dripping sweat as though he had been soaking in the rain. “C’mon… no, first clean yourself up and take a bath. Meet me in front of Toridasu’s office in thirty minutes. Chop-chop.”

“For what?” he asked between breaths.

“About your performance in the gold mines, of course. Now get your ass moving. You don’t want two jonin waiting for you.”

———

.

“Looking sharp, good,” Anko complimented Takuma as he landed on the road before Toridasu’s office. “Now flash me a smile and we’ll be good to go.”

Takuma resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Anko laughed boisterously and she slapped his back.

“Where are the others? Are they already inside?” Takuma asked, looking around.

“Others? It’s just you and me.”

“Huh, why? Kameko, and Chunin Ito’s team were just as important. They should be here,” said Takuma.

“That is true, but they only want to meet you. I’m just here as your team lead,” Anko replied.

Takuma felt a spike of nervousness. He cracked the knuckles of his hands one at a time, wondering what the meeting would be like. He had attended a fair share of meetings with jonin presence in the Police Force, where he was the only genin every single time, and he had gotten used to the pressure—but he was rarely the main focus of those meetings. This time, he was going to be alone, and didn’t know the two jonin very well.

“Hey, chin up,” Anko smiled. “They obviously want to praise you, so just go in and bathe in the compliments. It’s time for you to cozy up to the leadership. Who knows, Toridasu might look at us favorably if he finds you pleasing to the eye.”

Takuma looked up at Anko and nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

He straightened and followed Anko into the building. He had only been in Toridasu’s office once, which was his first day at Camp Banana where he handed Toridasu a brief on the refugee camp incursion. Just like the last time, Toridasu’s secretary was sitting at her desk outside his office room. She clocked the two when they entered and rose to greet them.

“Jonin Toridasu will see you soon. Please take a seat until then,” she said.

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They sat down, and Takuma looked around. “This is the place where we first met.”

“Did we? Oh yeah, I remember,” Anko chuckled as she propped her muddy shoes up on the table, much to the chagrin of the secretary, who couldn’t say anything to Anko because of the difference in ranks.

“So, do you have any family waiting for you at home?” Takuma asked.

“Oh? This is rare for you.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. My parents are alive; they still serve as active shinobi, and both are chunin like me—but they moved out of the Hidden Leaf a long time ago. They moved to a city in the north where it’s nice and cool when I was your age,” she said.

After the Third Shinobi World War and the Nine-Tails incident, Anko’s parents decide to slow down their careers and focus on their personal lives with each other. They couldn’t do it if they stayed in the Hidden Leaf, the hub for Leaf shinobi, so they decided to move to a big city with enough work for shinobi but at a level where they would have sufficient time for their personal lives.

“They must be proud of their daughter.”

“Damn straight, they are,” Anko flashed a grin.

“Anyone special waiting for you back at the village? Someone who has my dear leader’s heart.”

Anko raised an eyebrow at Takuma with a smile. “Look at you, trying to be playful,” she said. “Would it make you jealous? Unfortunately, no I don’t have anyone like that. Life hasn’t given me that luxury yet.”

Takuma could see that. She had gone from the very sought-after position of Orochimaru’s student to having the unjust stigma of being a traitor’s accomplice. From then on, her life’s work had been trying to get rid of it. It was understandable that she hadn’t had time for her personal life.

And that people would refuse to be with her because of the stigma.

“What about you?” she asked.

Takuma couldn’t help but laugh out loud. It startled the secretary, who fixed them with a displeased look. Even Anko looked at him with surprise.

“What?” she asked.

“It will sound sad, but I don’t have a personal life. Except for the very little time I could spare for my friends, I spent the rest of it working. You know Kameko and I from the batch, right? It seems our batch has regular reunions, but I wasn’t invited—it’s a long story, don’t ask, it’s embarrassing—the point is that even if they did invite me, I probably wouldn’t have gone. Even if I somehow freed up time, I would’ve given it to something else at the last moment…”

Sometimes, he wondered if it was all worth it. He wanted to live as long as possible, survival was his goal, which had eventually evolved into survive and thrive—but was all he did to achieve that goal, the price he was paying, worth it? Let’s say that he survived the terrible future he knew was coming—what about the future after that? The world wasn’t going to change. Peace and unrest were cyclic—humanity would return to their destructive ways and start more wars.

Was he supposed to deny himself any happiness and continue his struggles until the day he died?

“That’s a surprising level of self-awareness,” Anko said.

“Well, I have a lot of time to think,” Takuma chuckled with self-deprecation.

A clear bell rang from within Toridasu’s office. Anko and Takuma looked at the secretary, who instructed them to head inside. Toridasu and Shirakumo were both waiting for them. They were seated around a table in the office.

“There you are,” Toridasu said as he fanned himself with a folding fan. “Come, join us. We have tea and snacks.”

Toridasu and Shirakumo sat opposite to each other while Anko and Takuma sat together on the two-seater between them. While Takuma sat with his back straight, not making contact with the support, Anko leaned into the couch as though Toridasu’s office was her living room.

Neither jonin paid her any attention and focused on Takuma.

“Good work on the field, Genin Takuma,” said Shirakumo with a smile. Unlike Toridasu, who seemed vain with his silk haori, Shirakumo was much more professional in the crisp Hidden Leaf uniform. Shirakumo Hayama had long, dull, dark gray hair held in a ponytail. He also has a scar running down the right side of his mouth and pronounced tear troughs under his eyes.

“It was a team effort, sir,” said Takuma.

“Be that as may, it was only possible because of your initiative. Both Chunin Mitarashi and Chunin Ito commended you in their reports and I must agree, targeting the enemy’s iryo-nin was a fantastic decision,” said Shirakumo.

Toridasu said, “I heard that you also pulled one of our injured through the battlefield and got them to our iryo-nin while you yourself were injured.”

“Thank you, sir. I wouldn’t have been able to get her to help if not for Chunin Mitarashi. She was the one who pulled us to safety. The idea to attack the iryo-nin came from my treatment. I would’ve been out of commission without them but was able to return to the battle—taking that advantage of the enemy just looked like a tide changer to me.”

“It was the correct decision,” said Shirakumo. “I must admit, I wasn’t surprised seeing you contributing in such a way. Anyone as highly praised by Mr. Maruboshi has to be someone special.”

That colored Takuma surprised. He asked, “You know my teacher, sir?”

“Yes, I do. I was a new chunin when I became acquainted with Mr. Maruboshi. I was as green as they came and was looking to set up my team. We were matched on a mission, and he was so wise and insightful that I requested him on literally every mission I took after that. I was the chunin, but he taught me everything I needed to know then. I’m sure he has forgotten more about being a shinobi than I have learned in my career.”

Takuma felt pride surge in his chest from praise being showered on his teacher. A jonin spoke so highly of the man whom Takuma held in the highest regard—and it didn’t feel one bit strange. A jonin respecting Maruboshi was only natural. Takuma was sure he would feel the same way if the Hokage praised Maruboshi in such a manner.

Toridasu snapped his folding fan shut and looked at Takuma with much more interest than before. “Maruboshi took a student? Now that’s more surprising than coming across a thin Akimichi.”

“Teacher really helped me when I was in the academy. I have consulted with him on every major decision in my career. I wholeheartedly believe that he would be the perfect fit for the Headmaster of the Academy,” said Takuma.

“That would fit him, but he would’ve been much more useful if he let his stubbornness go and accepted his promotions,” Toridasu said, clearly not a fan of Maruboshi’s career decisions. “He’s too old now; they won’t even allow him to be a teacher at the academy.”

Takuma didn’t appreciate Tordiasu’s tone, but he didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in his heart, he did agree. Maruboshi had trapped himself into being a genin when he could’ve done a lot more if he was a jonin or even a chunin.

“Moving on, I heard something interesting,” Toridasu continued. “Genin Takuma, I heard that you were the one who suggested the idea for the Gojiro Gold Mine operation to Hidden Steam’s Benzou…. May I ask what you were doing discussing such a topic with an outsider?”

The pleasant vibe fizzled out at that moment. Shirakumo didn’t look surprised, but Anko was and she sat up straight.

“Pardon?” she asked.

“Benzou told Shirakumo that he got the idea for the gold mine operation from Genin Takuma. I didn’t know you two were close,” said Toridasu.

Takuma could feel the gazes on him. While Shirakumo did well to hide it, Toridasu’s suspicion was blatant. Anko was confused, but her eyes were silently asking Takuma to explain himself.

“We are not close. I’m happy if my words inspired Tokubetsu Jonin Benzou to push for the operation, but I can’t take any credit. My five minutes of impromptu conversations is nothing when compared to all the work that went into planning by so many people who made the operation planning.”

Takuma kept his involvement to a minimum. He could sense that they didn’t know he gave Benzou the entire plan point-by-point—so he took a gamble that someone in Benzou’s position wouldn’t credit somebody else as the brain behind his very ambitious plan.

“Your team wasn’t on the Evacuation Unit initially. Benzou pushed for your team, and from the way he tried, I’m to believe that you two are close,” said Toridasu.

Takuma shrugged. “Or perhaps he was returning a favor he mistakenly thought he owed.” He leaned forward and looked at Toridasu and Shirakumo. “I will say this outright so it’s clear. If you think I have a budding relationship with Tokubetsu Jonin Benzou, then you would be wrong, and it would be better for everyone to boot that idea from your minds and that’s all I have to say about it.”

He was purposely rude and direct. There was no need to be polite, sensing the accusatory vibe in the room.

“If you say so,” Toridasu smiled.

Takuma glanced at Shirakumo and found him staring. Seeing that, Takuma leaned back into the couch, letting them stare, no matter how awkward it got, until Anko asked to be excused.

“That went terribly,” she said after they got out.

“And you said I’d be bathing in compliments. I think you jinxed me,” Takuma said and then harshly kicked the ground to reflect how he was feeling.