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Arc IV Chapter 15

IV

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Arc IV Chapter 15

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Two chunin stood guard, or rather sat guard, protecting Konoha’s precious archives. Sitting behind their heavy desk, the two chunin were occupied with a task of utmost importance, guarding Konoha’s secrets with their lives. They controlled every visitor. They confirmed their identity and purpose before allowing them to enter their little kingdom of paper. Whether you were a humble genin or a mighty jonin, nobody escaped the watchful gaze of these valiant guardians. That was how it was supposed to be, but reality was different.

Tick. Fumihiko was confined to a grey, monotonous shit hole where the flow of time slowed because of boredom. As if time itself had already capitulated. Tack.

Tick. Seconds, minutes, hours, days passed before his eyes. Every day, a part of his soul died, devoured by the grey walls. Every day, his sanity diminished. Tack.

Tick. His post didn’t strike Fumihiko as prestigious as it was made out to be. Quite the contrary, guarding the archives was a divine punishment, the wrath of the gods for his past sins. Tack.

Tick. He already spent six months in this inescapable prison and didn't see any way out. Tack.

Tick. Fumihiko cursed his fate. He wasn't made for a clerk job. He was an accomplished, hardened chunin, a few missions away from being promoted to jonin. But now he was trapped in the wheels of bureaucracy. Tack.

Tick. Fumihiko despaired. One day he would throw the damned clock out the window. The question was only when? Tack.

Tick. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow? Fumihiko wasn't sure. Tack.

Fumihiko ignored the stupid clock and continued reading his book. The Icha Icha series was supposedly that bad, apparently. At least, he was told so. After all, he had nothing better to do all day because visitors were rare. And if they got some visitors, they didn’t even have the necessary authority to control them. The majority were jonin, ANBU, officers, or important clan figures. They all abused the power and constantly pulled rank on them. Very frustrating. If you tried to check their papers, you earned yourself a furious glare. The Hyuga were by far the worst, arrogant douche bags among them. He was told that only the Uchiha were worse, but they were less of a problem these days.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“...” Fumihiko shivered. He still remembered the black haired girl. He doubted his eyesight when he saw her. He thought the girl was a simple genin trying to sneak her into the archives. How wrong he was wrong. The girl wasn't a genin. Not only was she not a genin, she was in fact an ANBU, even a high ranking one. The girl was a genuine ANBU Captain.

Seriously, what was up with the higher ups these days? They were promoting little girls to ANBU Captains. The girl was twelve years at most! Twelve! The world was unfair. Little girls became ANBU while he remained stuck here.

“...” A sigh escaped Fumihiko. He would never argue with such a temperamental girl ever again. The little princess was way too dangerous for his liking. His instincts warned him, but he didn't listen until it was too late.

She threatened them with her sweet voice after they stopped her. The next time they blocked her way, she would personally ensure that both of them would be deported to some godforsaken outpost at the northern border. To some cold hole of never ending darkness where their miserable existences would yearn for every single ray of sunlight. A place of infinite despair without hope.

It was the moment he reconsidered. Perhaps this place wasn't that bad, after all. The pay was good, the working environment peaceful, and he had considerably more free time.

He and his colleague didn't bother the girl any further and let the little devil in black pass. No need to risk a fight with her. And certainly not because the girl might have scared them. She didn't frighten them, at all. He was a grown man. He wasn't scared by little girls. And he certainly didn’t have any nightmares of her once per week.

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Fumihiko read his book. “Shinji, do you think we will ever get out of here?”

Armed with a pencil and a newspaper, Shinji fought against the daily ninja crossword. The task required all of his concentration. “Who knows, maybe one day. Fumihiko, can you help me? I am searching for two words.

First word, horizontal, eight letters, starts with an A and ends with an I. Clues, criminal underground organisation composed of powerful missing-nin and dawn.

Second word, vertical, thirteen letters, nickname of an enigmatic S-class kunoichi. Any ideas, Fumihiko?” Shinji scratched his head. He needed help.

“Give me the newspaper.” Fumihiko closed his book. He scanned the crossword and waited for a flash of inspiration to occur. Inspiration never came. “Difficult. Aka ... Aka ... Aka ...” He tried his best to crack the crossword, but he failed.

Meanwhile, the door opened, and a visitor entered the archives, a rare sight.

“...” Fumihiko turned his attention to the newcomer, a black haired girl clad in a black kimono. It seemed the girl had a preference for the colour black. The girl quickly strolled past them, so he was unable to catch a glimpse of her face. The girl completely ignored them. She couldn’t do that, could she?

Fumihiko grew irritated, calling her out, “Hey, where do you think you are going, girl? The public library is the other way. Right down the stairs and the corridor left. You can’t miss it.”

The girl halted, her red lips formed a benevolent smile. “I beg your pardon, but what did you say? I think I have misheard.”

“...” Fumihiko's blood froze in his veins. This voice ... An ominous feeling gripped his heart. Her stature, her hair, her sense of fashion ... There was no doubt! It was ... It was ... “Oooooooooohhhhh shit, it's her!” Don’t panic, Fumihiko, don’t panic. Stay calm and focused ...

“...” Fumihiko finally realised he had slipped up. He said what he thought aloud. Everything was lost! Abandon the sinking ship! Flee fool, run for your life!

The girl narrowed her eyes. “What did you just say?”

Fumihiko gesticulated with his arms, stuttering, “Ehm, nothing. Nothing. Nothing, at all. Please enter the archives! Don't mind us! We said nothing!”

“...” The girl merely stared.

Fumihiko gulped. “...” Please don’t hit me ... Please don’t hit me ... Please don’t hit me ...

His pleas were heard. The girl ignored his comments. “Whatever, if someone asks if I was here, you saw nobody. Do we understand?”

“...” Fumihiko nodded vigorously. After all, what should he do? Say no?

“Excellent. I am glad we understand.” The girl disappeared behind a set of heavy steel doors, entering the achieves.

Fumihiko hoped he would meet the little princess never again. How wrong he was.

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