Capítulo 241: 240-Small Village
Renjiro stared down at the hem of his cloak. The small, barely noticeable number stitched into the fabric read.
"51."
It was simple, yet significant—it was his identity within the ANBU for now, a number instead of a name.
He glanced up toward the front of the room as one of the masked ANBU operatives stood with a list, calling out numbers one by one.
That was when Renjiro's eyes caught a peculiar sight near the podium—a group of masked figures, distinctly different from the rest.
Unlike the others in the hall, they were not wearing cloaks, their black attire sleek and form-fitting, and their presence seemed to blur their presence.
They moved with such fluidity and silence that Renjiro hadn't sensed their arrival at all, and that fact alone troubled him. His brows furrowed under his mask as he watched them.
'I didn't even feel them appear…' Renjiro thought, disturbed by how stealthy they were.
For a proud sensory shinobi as attuned to his surroundings as him, not sensing someone's approach was almost unheard of.
The masked figures, silent and motionless, seemed to act as escorts. Once a number was called, they would lead the recruit to another part of the building, their movements smooth and calculated.
'Are they the so-called superiors Jiraiya was talking about?' Renjiro wondered, his eyes narrowing as he continued to observe them.
Their silence spoke volumes about their experience and discipline. He had to assume they were higher-ranked, likely captains or specialized officers within the ANBU.
"Number 23," the voice announced, clear and commanding.
Renjiro's gaze shifted toward the person stepping forward, their steps silent as they followed their assigned guide out of the hall.
'I hope they don't take long,' Renjiro thought, his impatience building as the numbers were called in no apparent order.
'They could at least keep things moving.' His mind was buzzing with questions, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior.
"Number 39," came the next call.
Another recruit stepped forward, and once again, one of the cloakless figures moved to escort them. Renjiro's number, however, still had not been called.
He wasn't bothered at first, but as more and more numbers were announced, and the room grew emptier, he started to grow uneasy.
His fingers twitched slightly under his cloak, an old habit of his when he was deep in thought or beginning to feel restless.
By the time they reached number 47, only a handful of recruits remained. Renjiro glanced around. The room had mostly emptied, save for himself and two others. The voice called out another number, and the second-to-last figure moved to leave.
'What's taking so long?' Renjiro wondered, though he kept his thoughts to himself.
He wasn't one to complain openly, especially not in front of the ANBU, but something about the delay felt deliberate. His attention was drawn to the last remaining figure standing beside him.
Renjiro's eyes lingered on the figure for a moment longer than usual, and recognition flickered in his mind. Even through the mask and cloak, he knew who it was.
'Kakashi,' Renjiro thought, his suspicion confirmed as he extended his chakra field, a habit he'd developed over the years.
Renjiro had always been sensitive to chakra, and he had a tendency to assess others in his vicinity by subtly expanding his chakra field to get a sense of their energy. The moment he felt Kakashi's chakra signature, he knew it was him.
'Are they going to put me on the same team as him?' Renjiro wondered.
His gaze flicked back to Kakashi, who remained as stoic and silent as ever. Though Kakashi was also wearing the same cloak and mask as Renjiro, his chakra signature was unmistakable.
Renjiro couldn't help but smirk beneath his mask. He'd become so adept at sensing people's chakra that he often received dirty looks from those who didn't appreciate being scanned by his field.
Despite the growing tension, Renjiro couldn't deny that the idea of being paired with Kakashi intrigued him. Kakashi was a prodigy, even by Jounin standards, and though they hadn't worked together extensively, Renjiro respected his skills.
'And that is him without a Sharingan.' Renjiro thought.
Finally, when only the two of them remained, Jiraiya's voice cut through the stillness of the room.
"You two, follow me."
Renjiro and Kakashi exchanged a brief glance before silently falling in line behind Jiraiya. The legendary Sannin led them down a dimly lit corridor, the atmosphere growing heavier with each step.
The walls were narrow, almost suffocating, and the wooden floor creaked underfoot. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and ink, like a place that had seen countless meetings and discussions in the shadows.
They arrived at a dingy, windowless room. It was small, claustrophobic even, with a single table in the center and three chairs arranged around it.
The room was lit by a single, flickering overhead lamp that cast long, ominous shadows along the walls. The air felt musty, like it hadn't been aired out in years, and Renjiro couldn't help but wonder if this was an office or an interrogation room.
He glanced around, taking in the worn wooden table, the scratched surface telling stories of past encounters—some of which probably hadn't ended well. The walls were a dull, muted grey, and the lack of windows made it feel like they were deep underground.
"This place is a dump," Renjiro muttered under his breath, though his voice was muffled by his mask. He couldn't help but feel uneasy in the cramped space.
It was a far cry from the sleek, orderly environment he'd expected from the ANBU.
Jiraiya, however, seemed unfazed as he sat down at the table, gesturing for Renjiro and Kakashi to take the remaining seats.
"I'll get straight to the point," Jiraiya began, his usual laid-back demeanour replaced by a more serious tone, which was refreshing to see after how he had just minutes ago.
"You two are in a special situation. You're the only Jounin-level shinobi who've been recruited into the ANBU. So we hade to make some adjustments. "
Renjiro leaned back in his chair, 'Special situation? I kinda like that' He'd figured as much, but hearing it confirmed made him even more curious.
"How this wouldn't be permanent," Jiraiya continued, his voice steady.
"You'll be placed on the same squad, but only temporarily. The idea is for you to learn the ropes, to get used to how the ANBU operates. Once you've proven yourselves, you'll be given a promotion mission."
Renjiro raised an eyebrow beneath his mask. "A promotion mission?" he asked, his voice calm but questioning.
Jiraiya nodded. "Exactly. It's a standard procedure for Jounin entering the ANBU. Once you complete that mission, you'll be promoted within the ANBU ranks."
Renjiro and Kakashi exchanged a glance, both processing the information. Renjiro had expected something like this, but hearing the details made it more real.
He wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of being tested again—he'd already proven himself as a Jounin—but he knew there was no point in resisting.
The ANBU played by its own rules, and if he was going to survive in this world, he would have to play along.
Jiraiya leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "For now, just focus on learning. You'll be working closely with your squad leader."
Renjiro's eyes narrowed slightly behind his mask. 'Squad leader?' That was something familiar.
As if on cue, a new figure entered the room. The door creaked open, and a tall, masked figure stepped inside.
Their presence was commanding, yet silent, their movements fluid and purposeful. The mask they wore was simple, black with red markings, and their cloak was the same grey-white as Renjiro's.
"This will be your leader," Jiraiya said, his voice carrying a note of finality.
Renjiro's eyes widened slightly in recognition as the masked figure stepped forward. The realization hit him like a jolt of lightning.
'Small world,' Renjiro thought, his lips curling into a slight smirk beneath his mask.
'Or should I say small village?'
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