He needed to hide even though there was no place to hide in the Time Chamber. There was nothing but white. White background, white sand, and the building was even white. Mikoto forced him to wear black, so he would always be seen, and he wore all white, so he would blend in.

Eyes opened right next to him. Dalton turned to defend, but he was too slow. He was chopped at the chin, and his vision shook. Dalton stayed standing up, catching the second blow he knew was coming.

It was feint. He used his hands as a foothold and kicked the same place he had chopped. Then, moved like a shadow taking his outstretched hand pushing him down to his chest in a hold.

“I give!” Dalton gasped, tapping on the floor.

Mikoto shook his head.

“You thought of the second move I would do, but I thought of what you would do before you knew,” he said, pulling at his arm tighter. “What did you learn?”

Dalton winced. “Be more aware of my surrounding?”

He paused. “What else did you learn?”

“That you should be more aware that I took one of your bombs and I already set it off.” Dalton managed to say.

“It’s a dud,” he said.

A moment later the bomb under him puffed. Dalton looked over his shoulder, his mouth wide open.

“You let me steal a bomb from the armory? Are all of them duds?”

“Yes,” the ninja said. “Know your enemy. Watch them twenty-four hours a day. Watch them bathe. Watch them poop. Watch them imagine practice like a chuunibyou. Watch them and gather information until you know everything.”

“You’re just a stalker!” Dalton yelled.

“No, I’m a ninja.” His eyes hardened, and he pulled Dalton’s arm further. “It is a ninja’s duty to make a log of your poop times. Which, by my calculation is in five minutes. What are you going to do Dalton?”

“What is happening here? How do you know that?” Dalton was so horrified, he almost didn’t notice that his arm was going numb now, but something else did happen. His stomach turned unpleasantly, and he knew that the ninja was right on. “You’re just a stalker!”

“What are you going to do?” Mikoto craned his head next to his ear. “Soon, you won’t be able to hold back. I made sure to put a lot of fiber in your meal today. Your constipation may be saved, but your but will erupt.”

“You gave me laxatives! You monster!” Dalton screamed.

“I’m not a monster. I am taking care of your needs,” the ninja hissed. Then he added. “You can always just give up and leave.”

“Seriously, what is happening here? Why does it feel like you’re trying to take care of me? I’m not sure if you mean it, or you’re being cruel?”

“You better hurry and decide what to do. Your bowels cannot take too much punishment. I purposely punched it several times over the past few days for this moment.”

“I have no words.”

His stomach was cramping hard. Mikoto was right. Soon the gates of hell would open, and Dalton would have no way to relieving himself other than the worst option.

“Can you let me go?” Dalton tried that.

“No. Even if you asked me as nicely as that.” He smacked him bashfully.

To escape the hold, Dalton did the one thing he did not want to do. He dislocated his shoulder, escaping his grip and then planting a foot in his gut. Mikoto skidded a few feet away, patting his stomach as if a bug was on his clothes.

“Brilliant,” his voice fizzed out.

He popped his shoulder back in place and ran towards the bathroom.

Of course, Mikoto matched his pace. He was throwing punches at him, and Dalton was forced to parry them. “Don’t think you will get to the bathroom so easily.” His green eyes shined. “I’ve set many traps. If you don’t pay attention, then you won’t make it to your heaven.”

“Goddammit!” Dalton yelled. He threw his own punch at Mikoto, but he simply caught it and threw him a few feet away.

Dalton righted himself, landing on the ground, and feeling a click under his feet. A mine jumped in the air before it exploded in Dalton’s face.

Mikoto appeared in Dalton’s narrowed vision. He said something, before popping open a potion and draining it in Dalton’s throat.

His hearing came back, and he could hear Mikoto’s voice.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Looks like you didn’t make it.”

#

“While your body is strengthening, the same cannot be said about your mind.” Mikoto slapped down a couple of textbooks. “You shall read these, and you will be ready to answer any question.”

Dalton eyed the books. “I’m pretty sure my knowledge on most things is good.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow rose. “Is that so? Well, if you answer incorrectly, then you shall be shot through the chest a couple of times.”

After a few months in the Time Chamber, Dalton was used to threats of dying. He leaned, his teeth gritted.

“Go ahead, I’m confident I can answer it.”

“Alright, then.” Mikoto nodded. “What is Mikoto’s favorite food?”

“What?”

Five holes appeared in his chest. Blood rushed up his throat, and he fell on his back.

Mikoto wagged his finger. “’What,’ is not the answer I was looking for. My favorite food is strawberry shortcake. Remember it!”

A blood bubble popped from his mouth. He was trying to ask why.

#

“You baked me a cake?” Mikoto turned his head.

“Yes,” Dalton said, placing a slice in front of him. “It’s your favorite, a strawberry shortcake.”

“That….is amazing!” He sat down on the chair. “I cannot wait to try some of your cooking!”

Behind his back, Dalton gave a small pump of his fist. He had laced the cake with poison. The ninja’s hand moved too quickly for Dalton to see him pull down his face cover. He had already eaten the whole cake and chewed gratefully.

“This is quite good!” Mikoto said. “The poison doesn’t change the taste at all.”

Dalton froze at that. Mikoto turned to him swallowing the last bit of cake.

“I-”

“With my ability, I can control blood.” He pricked his finger, the blood that dropped formed into a little tiny prick. “I can use it to detoxify any poison. I am glad that you did too, because our next lesson is surviving poison.”

She flicked her finger, and the blood needle hit Dalton squarely in the neck. His throat seized and constricted, and he fell on the ground spasming.

“The cake was really delicious. I hope next time, you can bake it without poison,” he said, taking his plate and stepping over Dalton.

#

“I am compelled to ask, but after five months, most of the people I trained would have begged to release them with my death training. Yet, it’s been a year. So, what drives you to continue this madness, when you can just give up?” Mikoto had one day asked while they were eating breakfast.

After taking a sip of coffee, Dalton answered. “I am weak. So weak, it’s laughable. I want to get stronger, that’s why I’m doing this.”

The chair clattered as Mikoto stood. “I’m going to go prepare your next training. I will chase you with a sword, and you will disarm me. Follow me after you eat.”

As the door closed, the toast in Dalton’s hand shook. He deliberately made sure to eat slowly to savor every morsel, until Mikoto had enough waiting and attacked him while he was nibbling on his toast.

#

“I cut off your hands thirty times!” He pointed at his blood sword at an unmoving Dalton. “Focus! Let yourself feel where the sword is going to go!”

When he did not answer, Mikoto crouched, placing his ear on his chest. His heart wasn’t beating. He uncorked another revival potion, swishing it in his mouth before he planted Dalton with a kiss to push the potion in his mouth.

Dalton seized and coughed as if he had drowned.

“I think I saw my grandmother.”

“That’s silly. Your family is rich and most likely iseaki’d her,” Mikoto tapped her should with her sword. “Now, let’s continue where we left off.”

#

Jack was sitting on his desk, wrapped in bandages. He had faced a very powerful foe, and his witch killing blade suddenly exploded. The bits killed the demon, but the shrapnel had pierced his body, and he had to use some very expensive potions to heal the anti-magic wounds.

“That witch.” He shook his head. He was thinking of ways to get her back, when a portal opened and it literally fell on his carpet, bleeding out. “Why is there a homeless man bleeding on my golden weaved carpet?”

Kurogane Mikoto stepped out of the portal and gave him a bow. “Your task has been done. He is trained enough to face any danger.”

Jack craned his neck over his desk to get a better look at the half dead man caked in blood. “It’s only been two days. I thought I asked for him to train for five years. That’s two years in the Time Chamber. I won’t pay you in full. Not unless he goes back for three more years.”

To his surprise, Mikoto shrugged. “I’ve done my job. He is yours.”

Then, he stepped into a portal, and it winked shut.

That money grabbing ninja, who would squeeze out an orphan if it meant another penny, stepped away from more money.

Impossible!

The only explanation was that Mikoto had been replaced with another person, or Dalton was just hopeless. Once more he took a glance at Dalton. He was caked with blood and his shirt and pants were just rags. It had to be the second one.

Jack sighed, taking out a potion from his desk drawer and emptying it on his employee.

“This is going to come out of your paycheck.”

#

Jack was standing before him, he dropped an empty bottle of potion in front of him. He looked utterly disappointed at him.

“How was your training?”

“Good.” Dalton scanned the room. Then, he rose and took Jack by the cheeks and stretched it.

Jack slapped his hands off of him. “What are you doing?”

“I was checking to see if this was an illusion,” Dalton said. “But I can see now that it isn’t, because if it was, you would have chopped off my hands, and then stuff me full of laxatives.”

“What kind of training were you doing?” Jack gave him a weird look. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. What matters is you failed the training, which is why you’re here.”

“I did not fail the training,” Dalton said, he could feel pride swell in his chest. “I was doing really well. I even scratched him.”

“That is not progress. That is a failure.” Jack groaned. “It’s obvious that you were so inadequate that he gave up. Which is strange because that ninja is the greediest man I’ve ever met.”

“What, he was really hard to fight. The man moved like a demon, and used every opportu-”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses.” Jack rubbed his temples. “I have too much on my plate. So, I’m going to go ahead and gleam over this and give you one chance to prove yourself.”

As if on cue, the door opened. A woman came walking in high heels and a dress suit. Her blonde hair in a tight bun, and she walked towards the two with purpose.

Your father sends his regards.

Dalton’s eyes widened as he recognized her.

“You-you’re!”

She walked past Dalton and turned to face him. Her eyes looked at him coldly, and she pushed up her black rimmed glasses.

“This is Deputy Director Ingrid. She will oversee your first mission. And this is Dalton.” Jack introduced them.

She gave a curt nod, a small smile cracked on her face. “I know who he is.”

Dalton knew who she was too.

She was the woman that had demoted him on his first day.