Chapitre 166: CH_5.23 (166)
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———
.
More time passed, and Takuma's physical status continued to improve until he was back in combat-worthy condition.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Takuma launched a volley of shuriken, but they were matched one to one by an opposing volley of shuriken.
The shuriken had barely fallen when Maruboshi rushed Takuma, who equipped his kunai and charged ahead. The shinobi met head-on, two kunai scraping against each other, creating a harsh noise.
Takuma sprang a palm strike at Maruboshi's chest with his free hand. Maruboshi grabbed the arm before it could hit and stabbed his kunai down at Takuma's shoulder. Takuma side-stepped the kunai and retaliated by flinging his own kunai up at Maruboshi's face at an inhuman speed with a wrist flick that Maruboshi evaded with a simple head tilt.
He clenched his hand into a fist as chakra rushed forth and aimed for the liver.
Maruboshi smiled with his patent 'ho-ho' chuckle and tapped Takuma's elbow to derail the punch trajectory completely. The tap was so powerful that Takuma had to clench his core to prevent himself from spinning around. He gritted his teeth and grabbed Maruboshi's arm to disarm him of his kunai and succeeded in twisting the wrist to release the grip.
Maruboshi did nothing to stop the disarm. Instead, he raised his other arm and thrashed Takuma's head with an elbow strike. Takuma felt his head churn and his neck snap down painfully. He stumbled back, shook his head, and charged back at Maruboshi with a growl.
Maruboshi kicked the ground, and his dropped kunai sprang up, which he then kicked toward Takuma, who, when moving to dodge, felt a twinge in his hip. He was a moment late, and the kunai left a very faint tear on his sleeve.
Takuma leaped to the sky and cocked his arm back into a fist. Maruboshi swiftly jumped away to evade. The fist shattered the ground, leaving a small crater around the point of impact. When Takuma stood up, Maruboshi was only a step away with his leg raised. Takuma crossed his arms and was sent flying back from the powerful impact.
Maruboshi didn't let off the pressure and dashed towards Takuma. The moment Takuma touched the ground, Maruboshi was already there with his next attack ready.
Takuma blocked a punch and caught an elbow strike, but Maruboshi smashed his head into Takuma's. Surprisingly, Takuma wasn't shaken; he whipped out a kick for Maruboshi's knee. It was a solid hit, giving Takuma a hold of the momentum. He immediately pushed on aggressively with a barrage of hits with augmentations mixed in.
Maruboshi fell back on defense with dodges and blocks without any signs of any counters.
"Your augmented strikes are stronger than the last time we spared," Maruboshi said.
He then caught Takuma's augmented punch with his hand and pushed him away before cocking back his fist. Takuma put his hand forth to catch Maruboshi's fist just as he had done, but the moment the fist made contact with the palm, Takuma felt an overwhelming force slam into him.
This wasn't an augmentation; Takuma knew what that felt like.
This was pure physical force.
As Takuma shifted his posture to direct the force better, his knee buckled, and he was forced to kneel. He immediately jumped back when the force passed, but Maruboshi was faster. When Takuma stood up, Maruboshi grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down into an upward knee strike. Takuma felt the air escape his lungs—it wasn't a feeling he missed.
He fell to the ground with pain radiating from his ribs.
"Get up," said Maruboshi.
Takuma spat the grass out of his mouth as he stood up.
"You are slow," said Maruboshi. "And you are weaker without augmentations." He saw Takuma's hand on his lower back. "Are you not completely healed, young Takuma?"
"No, I'm healed. My body is just stiff and unresponsive. I need to train to bring it back to speed," Takuma groaned. His lower back was stiff, his hip lost strength when he pushed it, and his leg got tired too quickly.
"Take care of your body; it is one of the most valuable tools a shinobi possesses."
"I know, I know," said Takuma before gargling a mouthful of water to get rid of the raw taste of the grass from his mouth.
Takuma passed the canteen to Maruboshi and gazed at his teacher for a moment before taking out a folded letter and handing it to Maruboshi.
"What might this be?" Maruboshi asked as he opened the letter. "Conscription? They are asking you to join the conflict in the Land of Hot Waters…" He looked up at Takuma.
"Uchiha Mikoto thinks it's a good opportunity. 'War is where shinobi are made,' she says."
"And she is right," Maruboshi handed the letter back. "It's also where shinobi end."
That much was obvious; it was a war, after all.
"It seems my career in the Police Force is over, at least for now," Takuma explained his situation to Maruboshi. "She thinks participating in the war is the best way for me to gain a rank promotion."
"The Chunin Exams of today didn't exist in my time," said Maruboshi. "Before the Third War, the Hidden Villages used to conduct the examinations for their own chunin. Before I decided that I did not want to be a chunin, I was aiming for a field promotion like you. So, my personal experience won't help you, but I can tell you what I have observed from other genin."
According to Maruboshi, because the Chunin Exams were hosted in turn by the Five Great Hidden Villages, most genin didn't go to the foreign countries as that meant incurring travel expenses and a time period, they couldn't do missions—and even the basic guaranteed salary was put on hold while they were traveling outside of the village. Most genin couldn't afford that—young shinobi weren't known for their money management skills. Need more money? Do more missions. When it was hosted in the home village, most genin didn't take the Chunin Exam seriously and treated it as a way to luck into being chunin.
If a genin wanted to succeed at the Chunin Exam, they needed to be extremely serious, and even then, the chance was low as the competition was on another level. The best of the best from shinobi villages around the lands gathered in a single competition. Then, because of the examination's ever-changing format, some teams might suffer disadvantages depending upon the format.
Not to mention, to get a chance at a rank promotion, a genin needed a resume to support the promotion. Most genin didn't work on their resume, so even if they somehow performed well, they wouldn't get promoted until they accumulated sufficient achievements. Performing well in the Chunin Exam was always a positive as a positive result could be added to the resume, but for maximum chance, all the preparation needed to be done before participation.
"Do you think I should ask Mikoto to cancel my conscription order and aim for the next Chunin Exam?" asked Takuma.
"You can't base your decision upon my words, young Takuma," Maruboshi said.
"I know, but I still want to know what you will have me do."
Maruboshi sighed and didn't reply immediately.
"I believe your time will be better spent participating in the war." Maruboshi paused. "When you were in the academy, I thought you lacked the talent. I believed if you worked hard, you could reach the chunin rank, but that would be it…"
Takuma was stunned at the words. The Maruboshi he knew always encouraged him to strive for the best, to pursue constant improvement—but now he was saying that Takuma's development was limited.
"… I was wrong," Maruboshi smiled. "You have grown faster than I had expected, young Takuma. So young, but you have already achieved an important leadership position in the Police Force at that. You are strong, resourceful, and dedicated to your job. I talked to your friends and some of your colleagues when you were in a coma—they all, without exception, told me that you work too much and that you are extremely good at your job. You were demoted because you were too good and elevated your position until it could not be handled by someone in your rank."
Takuma would've felt flattered if all of the work he had put in, all the sacrifice he had made to his personal life, had not led to him being removed from the place he had built with his two hands. When including the solo research he had done on the Maiko Triad, he had spent an entire year of his life building the Narcotics Taskforce—all of that was stolen from him because of clan politics in which he had no standing.
"Preparing for the Chunin Exam will take time and effort. You will have to find people for your team, you will have to train with them, and create a functional rapport—I'm sure you know how difficult that can be when you don't have the right people. Moreover, you will be stuck in the Police Force for the next eight months—I'm assuming you will not be actively contributing any longer."
"Fuck no," Takuma spat. If he were going to be forced to work in the Narcotics Taskforce after being so rudely demoted, he would not put in hours anywhere near he did before.
"Language, child," Maruboshi chided. "Then you will be wasting a great portion of your day doing something you do not want to do. Why not put all that time and effort to better use? I wholeheartedly believe that you can not only better help the village by participating in the war but also help yourself better. Why dedicate time to something that will mostly become irrelevant after the Chunin Exams when you can gain essential experience that will always stay with you?"
"The only downside I can see is the danger that comes with the war. But you are a shinobi; that sort of danger will become regular if you continue to rise in rank."
Takuma had been living in the world that his sensibilities had long since adapted. It would've been strange if a relative of his suggested participating in a war when he had a choice not to—but in this world, a war was perhaps simply a big career opportunity.
"Take your time to think about it, young Takuma. Wars aren't pretty, but you learn a lot that you can't learn anywhere else," said Maruboshi.
It was something Takuma had been thinking about since his talk with Mikoto, and he had grown tired of it. Every day, the option to go to war became more appealing because of what it could mean for his career—and now, with Maruboshi's words, that appeal had only increased.
The only thing stopping him from making the decision was the Uchiha Massacre and his initial plan to stick it out, but even that had started to become doubtful. As time passed, Takuma began to doubt his blind estimates of the Uchiha Massacre. What if it wasn't close, and instead, it was still a year out or even more? With each passing day, Takuma became less and less certain about whether his plan was viable—and now it was barely hanging by a thread because of how long it had been in the back of his head.
Takuma sighed. It was so often he wished he had just committed to the series and watched the anime, or at least, read the manga one more time to remember more about the events in the story.
There was no use lamenting something he couldn't change.
But he knew he had to make a decision.
So he did,
He was going to participate in the war.
.
———
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The link is in the synopsis!
Chapitre 167: CH_5.24 (167)
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The link is also in the synopsis
———
.
The sound of a walking cane was something Takuma hoped never became a permanent part of his life. He looked at the cane in his hand and sighed. He was fit enough to fight, but his leg was still weak—Takuma could no longer feel any difference and hadn't once leaned on the cane, but Dr. Oichi had ordered him to carry it in case he needed it.
The past month had been the most difficult for Takuma. As a shinobi, he was very particular about his body. Not being able to move in the way he wanted was more restricting than anything else Takuma had ever experienced.
The experience also made Takuma realize how much he had changed from his former self.
In his previous life, he wasn't physically active other than commuting and whatever sports his friends played in the evenings. He didn't ever join a gym in college, nor did he seriously pursue a sport in school. But these days, he felt restless if he didn't do enough training every day—and it wasn't just because of remaining at his peak physical condition—he enjoyed the feeling of slowly improving his physical capabilities. It had become a part of his life.
He never took charge of group projects or tried to have a 'leadership' position in the school or college; he never even joined a club or community. He didn't feel comfortable being in charge, juggling people's opinions, or being a moderator who could keep the group focused towards achieving a common goal. But after working in the Narcotics Taskforce, he didn't think of leading as something bothersome—he enjoyed the feeling when a team worked in unity. And the Narcotics Taskforce was his baby, he was personally invested that it would produce the best results possible.
He was a better man than before. Someone his parents would be proud of—alas, they would never witness this improvement.
Takuma stopped in front of a building and looked at the plainly designed building, which had the highest levels of security in the Hidden Leaf. He was going to war, which meant he wouldn't be in the village for who knows how long.
It was time to invest in some new jutsu.
———
.
It was late in the evening, and Takuma was at home. He had a little more than a week before he had left the village, and he needed to take care of stuff at home before leaving. He had to pack all of his stuff and store it in a storage unit. Because he was leaving for at least several months, he decided not to keep renting his apartment while he was away. The landlord didn't make any fuss about it—his value as a tenant had dropped like a brick after the assassination attempt. His security deposit too had evaporated.
There was a lot of work to do in very little time. He was glad that he didn't have to go to work.
The bell rang as Takuma was packing up his furniture, wondering if he should sell the bigger stuff. He walked to the door and looked through the spyhole to see Ai standing in front of the apartment.
"Now, this is a pleasant surprise," Takuma smiled as he opened the door.
Ai was about to say something but stopped as her eyes went to the kunai in Takuma's hand.
She sighed.
Takuma shrugged and invited her inside.
"Packing already, huh," Ai said upon seeing the cardboard boxes.
"My house used to be barren when I was in the academy. I don't know when I bought so many things," said Takuma. Only after he started to think about packing did he realize how much stuff he owned. "So, what do you want to drink—hot or cold?"
"Just water will do," said Ai. "I'm not staying. I just came to drop your things."
"My stuff?" Takuma said as he walked out of the kitchen, only to stop when he saw his clothes on the day of the assassination attempt. "… I thought the hospital got rid of them." Ai had returned his wallet with his essential identification cards, but he thought the other stuff was disposed of.
"The hospital staff asked me to return it to you. They forgot they had it stored somewhere," said Ai.
"Thank you," Takuma picked up the transparent package with his belongings. It was heavy because of the chainmail undershirt.
"What are you going to do with them?" Ai asked.
"I… don't know," he said.
When Ai left, Takuma stopped packing and sat before the package. After staring at it for a while, he opened the package and took the clothes in his hands. They were in tatters, and the blood had turned into dried stains. The chainmail undershirt was damaged as well.
"I had that one for a while, too," Takuma murmured.
He put them aside and reached for his weapons pouch. Because he was going to war, he had replaced his entire gear with the highest quality one he could afford. But his old weapons pouches were with him for a very long time, and because he knew how to sew and work with leather, he had customized them to his preferences. The new ones didn't have those modifications yet.
Takuma emptied a pouch and turned it inside out to look at his old stitching—they were the work of a novice—he could do it so much better now. The thought brought a smile to his face. Takuma reached for the next pouch only to pause as he stared at it in his hands.
The pouch wasn't his…
Then it struck him.
"This is No#4's!" he gasped and immediately started to look through. There were some ground spikes, a couple remaining shuriken, and a small dagger. Takuma pushed everything aside and observed the pouch and everything in it for a clue—and he found a couple of things that attracted his attention.
First was the small dagger. The dagger was pitch-black from the tip to butt except for the sharpened edges. It wasn't a standard issue shinobi dagger; it had a unique design. He checked but couldn't find a blacksmith's touchmark. The second point of interest was the pouch itself. The flap on the pouch had a snap button on it, but the stitching used to fix the button was needlessly complex. There was a star pattern around the button, which was clearly the maker's mark.
"I need to turn this in."
But as Takuma finished the sentence, his thoughts changed. It had been more than a month since the Police Force had lost the assassins' bodies, and they hadn't made any progress since then. The anger and irritation from the lack of progress had ruined his mood every time he thought about it—which was every day.
Takuma stared down at the pouch and the dagger.
He knew what he was going to do tomorrow.
———
.
The first thing the next day, Takuma entered a dinky little shop far away from the main street. The location was terrible for a business, but Takuma was a regular customer.
"Boss!" Takuma yelled the moment he entered.
"Yeah, wait up!"
Takuma rested his cane against the counter and waited for a couple of minutes before a man dripping with sweat came out from the backroom. He had dark tan skin and short hair with gray streaks on the side.
"Oh, Takuma! Another order so soon?" said the man as he wiped his forehead with a towel.
The "Boss" was a weaponsmith Takuma used for his weapons needs because of the lower prices than any other shop in the city. One would think that because of the price advantage, the shop would be near the main street, but the reason behind the low prices was that the Boss didn't have a weaponsmith license and didn't pay sales tax to the government, which brought the prices down. Takuma was introduced to the Boss and his shop during his early days in the Ring, and he had been a repeat customer ever since. He had even placed an order recently to replace all the gear he thought had been disposed of.
"Not today, Boss. I was wondering if you could help me with something else today," Takuma put down the dagger and weapons pouch on the counter. "Can you tell me who made these?"
The Boss put on his glasses and picked up the dagger. He studied the dagger from top to bottom for a while. He even tested the knife by throwing it on a random wooden board on his walls, which scared the crap out of Takuma.
"It's expertly made. Masterful craftsmanship. Whoever made these have decades of experience."
"Really? I didn't notice anything special," said Takuma.
The Boss chuckled. "That's the point, isn't it? A weapon that feels nothing but right in the hand so the shinobi can focus on the enemy ahead." He placed the dagger down. "I can't tell right now, but if you give me some time, I might be able to tell you. If this was made in the Hidden Leaf, I might be able to find out, but if it's from outside the village, don't expect I will be able to get anything."
Takuma was fine with that; as long as he got anything, that would be a new lead he could follow. The Boss took the weapons pouch as well.
"Just… be careful, okay?" said Takuma. "Those belong to one of the assassins."
"Oh my," Boss looked at Takuma in surprise before laughing. "Don't worry, boy. I will be careful."
Takuma nodded.
———
.
Takuma visited the Boss again a couple of days later.
"Couldn't find who makes these, boy."
Takuma sighed. He knew it was a long shot. "Thank you for looking," he said.
"But I did find something," Boss put the dagger on the table. The hilt was removed from the blade, revealing the tang. "See this?" he pointed at the tang. Stamped into the metal was the shape of a tree, roots and all. "This is the smith's touchmark. If you find the smith who uses this touchmark, you might be able to find who bought this dagger."
"This is good… this is really good, Boss," Takuma smiled.
"Really? I mean, a lot of smiths use some version of leaf and tree as their touchmark in the Hidden Leaf. You might not be able to find the one who uses this one."
"That's the thing. 'Some version of leaf and tree as their touchmark in the Hidden Leaf,' which there's a great possibility that whoever made it is in the Hidden Leaf. That cuts down the search radius drastically," said Takuma.
Boss smiled. "The Police Force has ruined you, boy. I won't go out looking for this, but if I come across this touchmark, I will tell you."
"That's more than what I can ask you, Boss," Takuma nodded.
He felt great. This was a lead. A promising one at that. If he could find the weaponsmith, that could lead him to who ordered the hit.
But there was a problem. Takuma frowned. He had less than a week before he had to leave for the war and a lot of stuff to take care of; he simply didn't have the time to investigate.
He needed help.
Takuma sighed. It was time to turn to the 'proper authorities'.
.
———
Chat with me and the rest of the community on our DISCORD server.
The link is in the synopsis!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
200+ Classement
Power Stone 
109 Power
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