On the empty floor, Takuma sat opposite two ANBU-nin.

He was cognisant that ANBU was in charge of national security, and they probably required a sense of belonging and patriotism towards their homeland—and he was all for that; he didn't think he would ever leave the Hidden Leaf because his friends and life was here but he had to be direct with his demands even if it somehow lowered their impression of him.

"We have a standard compensation package that includes a very handsome salary beyond even the highest competitive rates of any other department. However, we don't have a mission-based commission system where you're paid after each successful mission. We don't want our operatives to be motivated by money when it comes to national security matters," said Swine.

Takuma was already used to it from his time in the Police Force. If there were a commission for the number of people arrested and charged, the officers would've been arresting people left and right to make more money. He could potentially make more money if he were an independent shinobi not associated with a department, but that was akin to owning a business rather than being a corporate employee.

"You'll have open access to our jutsu archive up to C-rank. The scrolls stay on the premises, but you're free to read and learn any amount of jutsu you can. We also have exclusive training facilities that you can book. We have in-house iryo-nin who will cater to any of your health needs and provide the standard three meals on all days of the week. There's also a store where everything is sold at heavy discounts and many more benefits, including top-quality gear custom-made for your preferences and generous access to our armoury. Almost everything is on our dime so you'll find that ANBU-nin's expenses fall because we take care of our own."

Takuma held back his reaction when Swine said he would have unlimited access to C-rank jutsu. Most of his career had been chasing mission points that afforded him jutsu. He had even bargained for ninjutsu from the Uchiha before his war deployment. That single benefit was so huge that it was enough for him to sign up on the spot.

"Of course, as we mentioned in the scroll, you'll get an instant rank promotion if you get selected," said Swine.

Takuma nodded. That was another benefit, arguably on par with the jutsu archive access. He had been gunning for a promotion for nearly two years.

"What about B-rank jutsu?" Takuma asked. He needed to get his hand on a B-rank jutsu to get to the next level.

"There's no open access to the B-rank jutsu archive, and you'll have to earn the privilege to learn a B-rank jutsu," said Swine as he crossed his hands on the table. "But like the jutsu in the archives, you have the benefit of not paying and how quickly you get one will solely depend on your performance. Of course, mission points are part of the compensation package, so you're free to go through the usual channel to redeem access to the standard B-rank jutsu archive like all other chunin."

"What about the time restriction?" Takuma asked an important question.

New chunin had a one-year time restriction before they could access the B-rank jutsu archives.

"We can take care of that for you," Swine nodded.

"What about developing new skills? If I want to learn, let's say, interrogation tactics, how's the ANBU going to help me?" He hadn't forgotten his motto—'A shinobi is more than the chakra he wields'—and wanted to continue with his journey in self-improvement.

"If you want guidance, we will provide it. As long as your work remains your priority, we will invite former members and experts in every field possible to guide you in whatever field you wish to explore," said Swine.

Takuma pondered what else he wanted to know about the job. He wanted to know the exact nature of his job, but his role would be undecided until they tested him. However, he still wanted to learn about it, so he posed a vague question.

"From your experience, what will my time at the ANBU be like?"

Swine had answered his questions fairly quickly until then, but this time, he took a moment to gather his thoughts. He even looked at the hornet-masked kunoichi, who hadn't said a word since the start as she silently stared at him the entire time. Takuma was unnerved, but he had done his best not to look at her so as not to seem nervous and twitchy.

She didn't want to say anything, so Swine answered the question.

"It'd be a lie to say that the work we do here is easy. It's not. I know I'm supposed to sell you on the job, but I'll be forthright with you and say that if you don't work hard, you will fall behind. The majority of our peers don't have vibrant personal lives because that's what it takes to make it here."

"Even though the ANBU's the best?" Takuma interjected.

"Precisely," said Swine and Takuma thought he was smiling behind his mask. This job is difficult even for the best of people out there. "I want you to say yes, but imagine the most stressful period of your life—that feeling is nothing here."

'I doubt it,' thought Takuma. He had started this life with the most stressful time of his life.

Swine continued, "Multiply it by a hundred. If you can't perform under that pressure, this job isn't for you. It will make you miserable at times to the point you wish you had never accepted the offer, but when you succeed, there's this indescribable feeling that people here keep chasing. I guarantee that not a moment of this job will be boring. You will be challenged every step of the way, and will live to surmount those challenges because here, you know that the things you're doing matter."

They were passionate words, and Takuma found himself swayed by them even though he had just been told that the job would make him miserable and he would have no personal life—not that he had much of one anyway. Perhaps it was because he was already used to it, and nothing in his life would be different from when he worked at the Narcotics Taskforce.

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Thinking of it like that made the charm fade slightly and he moved on to the next question,

"What will be the length of my contract?" asked Takuma. He didn't doubt the ANBU, but he wanted to know how much time he owed them before he could break away and do something different.

"We offer all our recruits a non-negotiable five-year contract with a secrecy agreement."

"Understood," said Takuma.

Five years wasn't a bad contract term. He would get that from the Police Force if Setsuna came through. He would be nineteen by the time he could leave. It seemed as if he had only been in this world for four years, and this would make it so he would be in ANBU for more than half of his new life.

He swept those thoughts away and returned to the conversation. He asked a dozen more miscellaneous questions, which cleared up all the questions he had for them at the moment.

"What is your answer, Takuma?" asked Swine.

"I'm interested," said Takuma. He was interested the moment they offered him open access to the C-rank archive.

"I have an obligation to ask you again. Are you interested in joining the Department of ANBU, Genin Takuma? Please answer with a full sentence."

"I am interested in joining the Department of ANBU."

"Excellent." Swine took out another sealed scroll from his person and handed it to Takuma. "You have seven days from tomorrow to prepare for the testing process. The location and arrival time are in that scroll. Please make an excuse to your friends and family regarding your absence for a week or two without mentioning us. Do you have any more questions?"

"Yes, one last question." Takuma raised the scroll in his hand. "Am I at liberty to share the ANBU's interest in me with other parties who might be interested in hiring me?"

"First of all, we haven't extended an offer to you; we have only shown interest. You can only use us as leverage after you have passed all our tests and rejected our offer. Use us as leverage while we await your response and we will drop you without any further considerations and deny any involvement to the relevant parties. However, if you pass our tests and reject us, you're free to share it with anyone you like and from my experience, it'll work as a glowing recommendation."

"Understood; thank you for answering my question."

"You have other offers, Genin Takuma?" asked Swine, curious.

"Perhaps," Takuma shrugged—he didn't have one.

All three of them stood up, signalling that the meeting was over. Takuma shook hands with Swine while the hornet-masked kunoichi kept her hands behind her back.

"My associate will escort you to the exit," said Swine.

The kunoichi started walking without a word, and Takuma followed her. He looked back, and Swine sat down and stared at him as he left the floor. He didn't talk to her in the stairwell, and unlike the last time, when he looked up, he saw someone leap down from a higher floor to a lower floor before disappearing behind one of the doors before he could get a good look.

Apparently, Swine was speaking the truth—people didn't have enough time to use the stairs properly, much less have personal lives.

Takuma got his weapons back at the reception, and once he felt their comfortable weight, he retrieved the stolen weapons and put them on the tray.

The kunoichi looked up at him with wide-eyed surprise.

"I'm sorry about this, but you did say that you weren't taking away my ability to protect myself, so I found some protection," said Takuma with an apologetic look on his face.

He glanced at the hornet-masked kunoichi, who was still staring at him, now with a raised intensity.

"I will see myself out," he said and walked out without looking back.

Outside the headquarters, Takuma stood on the steps with the scroll in his hand. As he stared at the scroll, the tension holding his body stiff left him. He had one week before he faced whatever ANBU wanted to throw at him. A hundred thoughts went through his mind about how to prepare for the tests and how he could hedge the bets in his favour while not knowing the specifics of the tests.

Takuma closed his eyes and let those thoughts drain away with a sigh. None of those things would help him and only served to stress and tire him before the tests. He needed something different from what he usually did—and fortunately for him, he knew just the thing.

———

.

Maruboshi was tending to his vegetable patch when he heard the rustle of the grass. He turned around to see Takuma standing in the middle of the garden. He looked the same as he was when he left, which was a relief.

"Welcome back. How did it go?" he asked.

"It starts one week from tomorrow," Takuma said as he walked closer. "I need your help."

"Of course, whatever you need," Maruboshi said readily as he wiped his hand. Becoming an ANBU operative was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and he would provide any help to see his student succeed.

"I want to train with you to prepare me for the ANBU tests," said Takuma, raising a scroll with the ANBU seal. "You prepared me for the academy tests all those years ago; I want you to do the same now."

"Takuma, what?" he chuckled. "Stop it."

"If I train on my own, I'll run myself into the ground... So, please train me."

Maruboshi stared at Takuma in shock and bafflement. "Takuma, when we trained, I prepared you for the academy test. We are talking about the ANBU here. This and that are two completely different—"

"The truth is that I just want to train with you. It's okay if all you do is make me do the Leaf Concentration Exercise; I'll be perfectly happy to do it," said Takuma as he stared into his eyes. "You're the reason why I'm the shinobi I am today. I have this opportunity because of the foundation you set, and now I want you to see how much I've grown."

Maruboshi didn't know what to feel. He stared at Takuma and noticed how much he had changed from the ten-year-old he had met all those years ago. He had helped him back then because he saw a struggling child who needed guidance to turn his effort into precious fruits of labour.

He didn't think he would become so attached to that child, but it happened before he knew it. That's why he stopped teaching him; he didn't want to make another mistake and ruin another life as he had done before.

"It doesn't matter if you believe in yourself; I believe in you the most in the world," said Takuma, startling him. The tired black eyes that had been steeping in grief now had a fire in them. "I believe in you. I believe you to be the best shinobi there is. I believe you to be the best man there is. And when I say you're the best mentor I could have, I believe it from the bottom of my heart."

"—I believe in you, Kosuke.—"

The words from the far past echoed in his years. It was the Lord Second Hokage who had said those words to him, but he had refused to believe him. Because of a foolish mistake, he had lost all of his teammates. From that day forth, he didn't believe he was worthy of being promoted beyond the rank of genin and had stayed in service to repent.

But even when he didn't believe himself, the Second Hokage believed in him.

The words he had denied all those years had reappeared again. He gazed at Takuma, and there was not a single speck of doubt in those young eyes.

"There's not much we can do in a week," said Maruboshi.

"It doesn't matter. I just want to train with you like we used to. But I'm sure I'll be better at the end of the week than I am now if I train with you," Takuma said as if it was a matter of course.

"Very well," said Maruboshi, a smile tugging on his old face. "We start at four in the morning tomorrow."

He still couldn't believe in himself, but perhaps it would be alright for now if someone believed in him on his behalf.