Taketori Kameko was his academy classmate, and the last time he had seen her was in the Genin Corp basic training when they were placed under the same chunin instructor but were assigned to different teams. They had gone separate ways, and Takuma didn’t keep track of the classmates he barely interacted with during his year at Shinobi Academy.

Years had passed, but Kameko hadn’t changed much. Her black hair was still styled in a straight-sharp A-line bob cut. Her cat-like eyes were sharp as ever, giving the impression that she was always glaring—or maybe she glared every time she saw him— and there was a prepared edge to her body posture as though prepared for any situation on a moment’s notice.

“I must say I’m surprised,” he started, “to think I would be on the same team as a classmate.”

Takuma extended his hand for a handshake, but Kameko looked down at his hand before looking up at his face with a displeased expression.

Takuma sighed as he pulled his hand back. “Don’t you think it’s childish to hold a grudge for something so long ago?” he asked.

During the basic training, their chunin instructor had chosen Takuma’s team for the Final Tournament. Kameko had raised her displeasure upon the announcement and had appealed for a change in decision, but Chunin Yoshio had shut it down then and there. It seems she was still hung up on that.

Kameko turned to Anko. “Is there any way to change his team assignment? I don’t believe he is a good fit for our team.”

Takuma frowned.

“Oh my, what’s this? You two know each other? Kameko, why didn’t you say anything before?” Anko looked at the two of them.

“The team needs a combatant, Anko. This man won’t be able to fulfill that role. He could barely graduate. It’s better for us to have nothing than him,” Kameko spoke bluntly and pointedly.

“Who are you to decide if I can or cannot fight?” Takuma frowned. He didn’t appreciate the straightforward hostility. “If I recall, I was the one in the tournament final. My impression of the esteemed Taketori clan dropped like a fat Akimichi the day you threw a tantrum because your spoiled ass didn’t get what you wanted.”

“How dare you speak ill of the clan,” Kameko said with venom in her voice.

“If you don’t want to listen to the truth, then shut the fuck up and don’t spew shit from your mouth.”

Takuma didn’t know if it was from being sleep-deprived or if it was the agitation he had been feeling since leaving the camp—or perhaps both—but the moment Kameko opened her mouth, irritation and anger flared within him. He didn’t want to fight with his teammates on the first day, but she started it.

“Now, now, let’s not bite each other’s throats,” Anko raised her hand. She had a troubled look on her face. She hummed while tapping her cheek with a finger as she looked at her two subordinates.

“It’s a big problem if teammates can’t work together—”

“I will work with anyone; she’s the one with the fucking problem,” Takuma glared at Kameko.

“— but I can’t just kick Takuma out just because you say so, Kameko.”

Kameko looked massively displeased.

“But,” Anko continued, “it’s also true that if Takuma isn’t able to fulfill our requirements, asking the old geezer to allow a trade makes the most sense.”

This time, Takuma was shocked.

Anko shrugged. “We haven’t been able to operate independently since our temporary fifth member went home. Joint missions with other teams are all we have been able to do. I’m tired of trying to persuade them when they can pair with someone else who does have a complete team, so despite what I said earlier about you fitting in even without combat ability… well, we need someone who can handle combat.

“So, given the situation, this is what we will do. Tomorrow, both of you are going to fight. If Takuma wins, the matter is over; he will stay, and you will have to work it,” she said to Kameko. “But if Takuma loses, then I will trade you as soon as possible; you need to be at least as capable as her, so either win or hang in there until I declare a draw.”

“The stakes aren’t equal,” Takuma said. “If I lose, I get shipped out like inferior goods, but if she loses, she has to work with me, but that would have happened if she didn’t bitch about it.”

“That’s a good point. How about she takes half of your duty shifts for a month,” Anko suggested.

“Three months,” Takuma said boldly.

“Dream on,” Kameko scoffed.

Takuma ignored her and directly dealt with Anko.

“Tomorrow’s fight is going to set my first impression, and if I end up losing, it’s going to make my time here more difficult than necessary. I think three months is enough.”

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“True, but three months of fifty percent more work is tough. How about two months,” Anko countered.

“Anko!” Kameko gasped.

“Two-and-a-half,” Takuma gave his offer.

“Don’t be greedy. Two is the best I can do.”

“… Fine,” Takuma shook on it.

“This discussion is now over. Prepare as much as you want for tomorrow. I look forward to seeing what both of you can show me,” said Anko.

———

.

Kameko unsheathed her sword and checked the edge for one final time before the fight. She looked up at Takuma sitting in the distance, similarly checking his equipment.

The day they had finished basic training and had officially entered service, Kameko had put Takuma out of her mind because she didn’t believe she would hear about him outside of perhaps academy reunions that happened every five years.

The dead last who barely graduated would spend years working farms and other odd jobs like most in the Genin Corp.

And for the first year, she didn’t hear about Takuma. There was a gossip that he had joined a chunin team, but Kameko had dismissed it for what it was— gossip. Why would any chunin take someone like him on their team?

But then, a piece of shocking news broke in their class circle.

Takuma had joined the Leaf Military Police Force.

And this news was real, verified by Oichi Taro and Fuma Arisu.

Arisu actually worked with Takuma as his partner.

Kameko couldn’t believe it. How had Takuma managed to get into the Police Force when a lot of people she knew who had applied had not even gotten a rejection letter

And when that wasn’t enough, she was hit with another mind-boggling news. Fuma Arisu had shared the news that Takuma had been given his own team, and she was joining the team. From there on, every month, she would see an article or two about the Narcotics Taskforce in the newspaper.

‘Why?’ Kameko had asked Arisu.

‘We are doing something new and exciting… and he’s really good at what he does,’ was Arisu’s reply.

Seeing that… Kameko had to admit that Takuma must have done something right, that he must’ve had the necessary competence to reach such a position. If nothing else, then her parents talking about the news about the Narcotics Taskforce on the dinner table was proof that Takuma had accomplished something.

But… that didn’t mean Kameko wanted Takuma on her team.

She still remembered the dead last who couldn’t use the simple Transformation Jutsu, and had lost all of his fights in the academy. And even though he had won the basic training final tournament, she was completely confident in beating him into the ground.

They were stationed in a dangerous area in a war, and every mission had a component of danger that could very well lead to loss of life. She did not want someone in the much-needed combat-forward role to be a weakling like Takuma. She didn’t want to put her and her teammates’ lives in someone’s hands with a dirt-poor combat history.

She was aware that Takuma would’ve improved since the basic training, but she didn’t want to take the risk of him joining the team long enough that Anko would find it difficult to replace him.

Kameko couldn’t risk that.

Which was why…

‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t even have a chance to join the team.’

Not many people wanted to join Team-9 because of Anko as their leader and her tainted past—but Kameko was sure she could pull someone in with her clan’s pull.

“I think I might have been a bit reckless with this,” Anko awkwardly chuckled as she walked to Kameko.

Kameko looked at the crowd of shinobi gathered around. Based on the numbers, at least eighty percent of the Camp Banana had gathered to see her fight against Takuma as if it was an entertainment event. She had thought the fight would be a fairly private affair, but seeing so many of her peers gathered, who would judge her performance, made her feel nervous.

She gazed to the other side, and Takuma looked like the crowd didn’t exist for him. He seemed completely relaxed, as if this was just another day for him.

“Can’t you disperse the crowd?” she muttered to Anko.

“Not when those two are here,” Anko pointed with her eyes.

Part of the crowd were the two Hidden Leaf jonin running the camp. Both Jonin Toridasu and Jonin Shirakumo had come to spectate the fight.

Kameko, who hadn’t noticed them, felt another wave of nervousness.

On the other side, Takuma stood up. He wore a simple half-sleeved shirt and shorts over a chainmail with arm and foot guards with boots. There was no heavy armor; in fact, he was dressed in minimal armor.

‘Light armor? Is he aiming to use speed as a weapon,’ Kameko analyzed. ‘If so, then I might be at an advantage here…’

“I’m ready whenever you are,” said Takuma.

Kameko took a deep breath. The nervousness didn’t abate, but she turned her focus to the fight. She needed to win if she wanted Takuma off the team. And win, she would.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Anko clapped her hands. “Well then, let’s not delay and start right away.”

She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly to gain everyone’s attention. The crowd simmered down and focused on Anko.

“Today, to resolve a dispute; these two team members will fight. The loser will have to obey the winner’s proposition. Place your bets, people.”

“Anko!” Kameko protested. How could they turn this into a gambling event?

“Hey, there isn’t anything fun to do here. People gotta take what they can. See, even they approve,” Anko pointed at the two jonin participating in the betting.

Kameko looked at Takuma, hoping he would back her, but he was staring at her.

She held back a flinch. She could feel his gaze scanning her as though he was looking through her. His gaze went everywhere from her feet to her sword to the gear she wore. While she was worrying about other things, he was observing her.

“Do you know why I was deployed late?” asked Takuma.

Kameko knew about the incident. It was quite prominent in the newspapers.

“There were four of them, waiting for me at my home,” he continued. “I was returning from dinner with a friend, so I was only lightly armed…” Kameko started to feel more and more uncomfortable as Takuma spoke. “The place I lived attracted the bad kind of people. Drug dealers who couldn’t pay up their suppliers, people who had borrowed money from loan sharks, and most of the property in that area is owned by a really shady guy, and all of them employed shinobi for their collections— so people in the area know not to interfere or try to report it to authorities because no one wants a shinobi knocking on their door.

“So, even when people heard the fighting, no one dialed the phone to help me… I was all alone. And then it started to rain heavily. Anything that could’ve gained attention was drowned by the water and sound.”

Takuma touched his arm, and Kameko noticed the high volume of scars on both his arms.

“That day, five people entered the fight alive… only one of them was alive the next day.”

Kameko felt a shiver go down her spine.

He took out a kunai from his weapons pouch.

“Don’t mistake me for the boy you studied with at the academy… He died a long time ago.”