Chapitre 220: CH_7.2 (220)

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———

Three days after Anko had poisoned Takuma, forcing him to flush out the paralytic agent from his body with chakra, Takuma was bent over the toilet, puking his stomach out. He heaved noisily before hurling again into the toilet bowl.

The venom Anko had given him today had him crawl on the floor and lay just outside the washroom in case he needed to hug the toilet again. The only thing not negative about the experience was that his water clones were resilient— while he was suffering venomous hell, his two clones were doing their thing —as long as he didn't suffer a mortal injury or got knocked out completely, the clones would stand stable.

Takuma closed his eyes and rotated chakra through his body. His head was churning, and his body was on fire, making focusing on molding his chakra a miserable experience. But he had ample motivation to get the chakra moving. He could either burn the venom early or suffer through the combination of a hellish hangover and burning fever.

A worried Daiki peered from the end of the hallway. "Are you okay?"

Takuma whimpered as he flopped to the side, but managed to shoot a weak thumbs-up to Daiki. He appreciated the guy, but there wasn't much Daiki could do to help. Takuma needed to see it through by himself.

A few moments after Daiki left, Takuma's tutor clone walked past on his way to the room with his hands full of books, scrolls, and writing material. It was sunny outside, and the clone had been studying under the warm sunshine.

"Lay to the side; you're inconveniencing the others by blocking the bathroom."

Daiki and Takuma had two other roommates living with them.

When Takuma didn't respond, laying absolutely still in his spot, running chakra through his body, the study clone pushed Takuma's body to the side with his foot. Takuma wanted to yell angrily but could only grumble from the heavy fatigue.

"You better not try to skip the study session," said the clone before walking to Takuma's room.

"Fuck you," said Takuma, flopping onto his side.

"Not really into selfcest," the clone spoke from inside the room.

Takuma regretted giving Anko permission to feed him venoms because, for three hours, his day turned to shit, with his body betraying him constantly. He couldn't even blame it because he was the one voluntarily swallowing venom that put him in misery. He envied and cursed the duty and tutor clones for their normal days, while the original suffered through what he began to think was Anko's way to exact revenge on him.

Takuma was about to grouch some words for his chunin lead, when his face turned green with disgust, and jumped up like a cat whose tail was stepped on, darting to the toilet bowl, looking like he would fall over any step.

Daiki walked into the washroom looking impatient and hurriedly unzipped his pants, only to see Takuma hurling vomit into the toilet. His eye twitched before he ran to the end of the hallway and jumped straight out of the window into the overgrown garden outside.

"It's okay, I'll do it outside," he said, but Takuma was too busy to hear his teammate's rushed words.

Three hours later, Takuma was forced by his roommates to clean up his handiwork in the washroom before they allowed him a bath.

———

The next day, Team-9 was called into the war room to meet with Toridasu and Shirakumo. It was Takuma's first time in the war room, which was usually only reserved for chunin and jonin.

A large circular table covered a quarter of the room, which Toridasu seemed to have delivered from home. The walls were covered in pages of reports, maps, and memos that were regularly updated to give the most current and correct view of the war. Toridasu and Shirakumo held daily meetings with the chunin to communicate the latest happenings and changes at the war front.

"Ah, our most problematic team," Toridasu smiled in greeting.

"Thank you, that means a lot," Anko said, putting a hand on her chest and smiling back.

The two Hidden Leaf jonin weren't the only ones waiting in the war room. Hidden Steam's Tokubetsu Jonin Benzou and another man Takuma hadn't seen before were sitting close to each other around the table. He had long hair tied in a loose ponytail, a tired and long face with a scruffy beard, and a lit cigarette between his lips. He was slumped in his chair as if the war room was his living room and the two jonin were his pals. Toridasu didn't seem to mind, but Shirakumo's unapproving gaze made his opinion clear.

Like everyone at Camp Banana, he didn't wear a uniform, nor did he have a forehead protector. But from his seat beside Benzou, Takuma guessed this was a Hidden Steam shinobi.

The man looked at Takuma and flashed a lazy smile, leaving him surprised and confused. Takuma tried to search for the man in his memories, but failed. Perhaps the man was wordlessly greeting him, but Takuma definitely felt like the man knew him.

His gaze then met Benzou's, but the two didn't go beyond small nods to acknowledge and greet each other. Takuma had gotten into trouble because of his association with Benzou, and it was better for them not to appear all chummy in the presence of the leadership, especially Toridasu.

"So, what is this about, boss?" asked Anko with her feet on the table and balancing her chair on its hind legs, seemingly competing with the unknown man in terms of casualness. "It's not another resupply run? Give us something more interesting to do, would you?"

Team-9 only did resupply missions, while other teams got other missions. The defensive captain in-charge of the base's safety was on a rotation among the chunin leaders, but Anko had never been put in-charge. There was a clear divide between the responsibilities that made Team-9 isolated.

"Alright, let's do something interesting then," said Shirakumo, sliding a folder across the table that hit the sole of Anko's feet.

Anko glanced at Daiki, who hurriedly got up to hand her the folder.

She opened the folder, and upon reading the first few lines, her legs immediately went off the table. Her eyes widened at the file's content, and she looked at Takuma, who tilted his head in confusion before realization struck him.

Anko turned to Toridasu and held up the file. It was the mission file for the precursor mission that Anko had been trying to get for Team-9.

"You're giving this to me?" she asked.

"Don't get a big head; you weren't my first choice."

Shirakumo interrupted the conversation before it devolved into a back-and-forth between Anko and Toridasu. He looked at Takuma as he said that, "Among all the teams, we found that Team-9 is the best suited for the mission."

It seemed that Takuma's fight against Masumoto had done its job by elevating the team's value in the eyes of the leadership.

"And what is this mission?" Anko asked and glanced at Benzou and the other man. She passed the file onto Iori, and Kameko leaned into reading the contents as well.

Shirakumo stood up and walked to a large map plastered over a wall. The map depicted the large border region, some of which fell under Camp Banana's coverage; it was marked with mini-notes, pins, and threads marking the trade routes and roads. Shirakumo took a pointer stick and tapped on three marker points on the map.

"Hidden Frost has captured three major border cities and has established a choke hold on the region. The cities are the strongholds, and the small villages all feed into them. The villages and their farms sell their produce to the cities, which keeps them running. The villages can't stop feeding them for the fear of retaliation—they made an example of a small village, and instilled fear by ruthlessly punishing the rebel elements in all the villages."

"Oh, my god." Iori turned her face away in repulsion and pushed the file to Kameko.

"What?" asked Rikku.

Kameko held up the file, and there was a particularly gruesome photo of what looked like a mass grave with the bodies of a dozen or more men. The entire Team-9 turned their faces away from the photographs.

Shirakumo continued, "Other than the fact they're captured, the cities function as normal with the exception of a strict martial law… In over a month and a half, Camp Banana will mount a recapture on the Spring City of Yu, the first phase of breaking the chokehold."

"So, you want us to target the villages that feed into the city?" asked Anko.

That was the precursor mission Anko had been aiming for. There were small shinobi teams that traveled from village to village to ensure that the food and ration were delivered on time, and the fear remained strong. The plan was to hunt down that roaming team and cause some chaos to draw out more shinobi.

"No, that mission will be assigned to another team," said Shiruakumo.

"Then what?"

Shirakumo looked to Kameko, who was engrossed in the file with wide eyes. Sensing everyone looking at her, she looked up.

"You want us to infiltrate Yu?" she uttered, her tone doubting what she had just read.

"Correct," Shirakumo nodded. "The mission's objective is to infiltrate the city and weaken it from the inside for the advantage of the main forces when we mount a recapture…."

Takuma leaned back in his chair and stared at the map, and the Spring City of Yu marked on it.

"Turn the enemy against themselves," said Toridasu, "spread fear, doubt, confusion in the minds of the enemy occupying the city. Chip away at them slowly in a way that they don't know who's attacking them and how—so they have no choice but to doubt everyone, even themselves. Your objective is not to defeat the enemy but to wear them just enough that when the strong wind arrives, they blow over like a house of cards."

"Urban Guerrilla Warfare," said Takuma.

Shirakumo nodded.

"Why us?" asked Anko.

"Your team is suited," said Toridasu. "Mitarashi specializes in information extraction, which is an important skill for the mission. Muscles here is a ranger and experienced in stealth. You have a fuin-nin, which makes her infinitely resourceful in most situations. The tiny girl and Taketori are good muscle." He then looked at Takuma. "You, of course, proved your worth as muscle—but you have relevant experience, which is important…"

"…How so?" asked Takuma.

"Torture and interrogation like your team lead, you have experience with field intel gathering, and you have done a lot of informant cultivation," said Shirakumo.

"You ordered my case files?" asked Takuma, not pleased that someone outside the Police Force was poking around in his work. "And they gave you the files?"

He had done all of that. He was in no way as good as Anko when it came to information extraction, but he had some experience. He had done some fieldwork for the Maiko Triad case, which he had then converted into a raid with the help of Arisu, which then got him the Narcotics Taskforce, where he had done a lot more fieldwork. And finally, he had cultivated so many informants in an attempt to reduce his dependence on Enomoto.

"You had to work in the Police Force; they treat everything like a state secret," Toridasu sighed.

"Okay… I don't want to undermine myself, but I had power and leverage back at home. I won't be able to cultivate informants and curry favor with locals—they would never trust me because I'm not from that city. They will look me up, and the moment they don't find me, they will protect themselves, which means turning on me," said Takuma.

Takuma wanted to curb the expectations before they decided to send his team into the enemy's den. If he promised something he couldn't do, he was actively putting the lives of his team members at risk.

"We're not stupid, kid," Toridasu scoffed. He pointed at the man beside Benzou.

The man sat up in his chair and put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table. "My name is Gaku. I'm a retired Hidden Steam shinobi and a resident of Yu," said Gaku.

"Gaku will be joining your team," Benzou spoke for the first time in the meeting. "He will be your local contact, the one they will trust, which you can use…. As power and leverage, I fear you will have to build that yourself."

Toridasu leaned forward with a smile,

"You wanted something interesting; you got it..."

———

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Chapitre 221: CH_7.3 (221)

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———

The meeting in the war room continued, and Anko accepted the mission on behalf of Team-9. It wasn't like she had a choice; Team-9 was ordered to take the mission.

After Shirakumo was done explaining, Anko took him and Benzou to the side to discuss more details about the mission. Rikku and Daiki gathered around Kameko to read more of what was in the mission file. Iori pulled Toridasu into a conversation about needing new fuinjutsu formulas and supplies that she would need, and Toridasu looked serious about her points about the fuinjutsu budget for the mission.

Takuma, on the other hand, approached Gaku, who sat slumped in his chair, smoking without a care in the world.

"So, a retired shinobi, huh?" said Takuma, "What do you even do after it?"

Gaku stared at Takuma as he took a long puff of his cigarette. Takuma waited for the reply, but Gaku continued staring and took another long drag without answering.

"Is something wrong?" Takuma asked, not appreciating Gaku's rude behavior.

Gaku snorted. "Oh, nothing. I've been doing nothing… I just retired."

"Really?" Takuma sat down. "You made enough money to retire? That's impressive." He didn't believe that Gaku hadn't done anything after retiring. Gaku's current physical condition wasn't that of a retired shinobi who had hanged his boots up. The man looked lazy, but Takuma could tell he hadn't let himself go.

"Money ain't that important to me," Gaku smiled sluggishly. "If I need some, there's plenty of work for someone like me. I might no longer be a shinobi, but that doesn't mean I forgot all my craft if you know what I mean."

It seemed that Gaku had been doing some freelance work on his own.

'No wonder he was still in shape,' thought Takuma.

"What about you? You're young. How long must you be a shinobi at the Leaf before they let you go?" asked Gaku.

"Ten years," said Takuma.

A genin fresh out of the shinobi academy had to sign a ten-year contract of employment as a registered shinobi with the Hidden Leaf. A genin could only retire after completing the time on their agreement or sign five-year extensions each time their contracts ran out. As for chunin, a fifteen-year extension was a requirement for the promotion. Every jonin had to agree to another twenty-five years of work for the village.

This meant any Hidden Leaf jonin was obligated to work for the village for fifty years. Which meant that if they graduated from the academy at eleven years old, they could only look for alternate employment when they turned sixty. Of course, most jonin were already fully retired years before that age with the condition that they would have to return if the village needed them. Those still working had long since transferred to managerial or diplomatic positions.

"And? Do you want to keep being one after that?" asked Gaku.

Takuma opened his mouth to answer but suddenly found that he didn't have an answer to the question. He hadn't ever thought about it before. Did he want to be a shinobi for the rest of his life?

But he wanted to be a jonin, which meant being a shinobi until he was an old man.

Forget thinking that far; he hadn't thought about what he wanted to do after the Fourth Shinobi World War that he knew was coming in the future. He had been so consumed with the present, taking it one day at a time and preparing for the calamity, that he hadn't ever sat down to consider what his life would be after that.

Gaku chuckled, seeing Takuma fall into silence.

"It's alright, you're still young," he said. "You and I are going to be working together. Let's get along. I'll take the lead; I'm sure you'll learn a lot, kid."

A laugh escaped from Takuma. He smiled at Gaku, fully understanding what had just been said. "You're real funny, old man. Leave the work to the professional and do your job as a local tour guide," he nodded and smiled.

The lazy smile on Gaku's face turned flat.

"I'm the native of that city. I know the people better than you ever will. Why do you think they called me out of retirement?" said Gaku.

"And I don't deny it, but if you're so good, then why are they sending us in?" Takuma leaned forward, staring Gaku in the eyes. "A team who isn't even from the Hidden Steam... What does that tell you?"

Gaku deliberately took another drag of his dwindling cigarette.

"I don't know what your problem is with me, but neither you nor I are the leader." Takuma pointed to Anko talking to Shirakumo and Benzou. "That lady there is the boss. Whatever she says goes—we're only there to advise and follow orders."

"My problem? I don't think I'm the one who's the problem," said Gaku, scoffing.

He got up and walked out of the war room without saying anything.

Takuma muttered, "What a weirdo…"

———

After the meeting, Team-9 sat under the shade of a tall tree. Anko leaned against the trunk while the others sat and laid around her. There was a certain somberness hanging over the group. They had just been ordered to complete a dangerous mission behind enemy lines without backup.

One mistake could spell their deaths.

"I didn't catch much, but I guess first impressions weren't great with that Gaku fellow," Anko said to Takuma.

"I don't know what his problem is," said Takuma. "He acted like I had wronged him somehow. I don't even know the guy."

"Is it going to be a problem?"

"Not really." Takuma didn't need to be buddy-buddy with Gaku. Managing relationships and working with incompatible personalities was part of the job description. People would look down on him if he threw a tantrum whenever he had to work with someone he didn't get along with.

"Kameko, you read the file. What did you see?" Iori asked from her head resting on Rikku's lap.

Takuma turned to Kameko, interested in what she had to say. He hadn't had the chance to read the mission file in the war room. Intelligence and knowledge were going to be his best friend on the mission. The more he knew, the better he could do his job.

"The intelligence we have is lousy at best. We have identified two jonin, and have a rough tally of the enemy forces occupying the city, but nothing really passes the standard for good intel. Yu is a three square-kilometer sprawl and, according to the last census, has a population of thirty-five thousand (35,000). According to the estimates, there's one enemy shinobi per hundred natives—but as I said, nothing's verified. We don't know the enemy's total combat competency, how many iryo-nin they have, the health of their arsenal, or what their supply chain capabilities are."

Kameko shook her head.

"Nothing, really—it's not looking good."

Obviously, her words didn't inspire any confidence in the team, but Takuma was glad she was being straightforward about it.

"Information gathering is part of the mission," said Anko, clicking her tongue. "Camp Banana won't be operating alone on this operation. We don't have the numbers. Another camp will probably join the main re-capture mission, but to prepare an effective assault, we need to know the enemy—and there's no better place to do so than inside the city."

Anko turned to Takuma. "Gaku is going to be a goldmine of unrecorded information. Make sure to get the most you can out of him about the city and the ruling class."

Takuma nodded, that's exactly what he planned on doing but he didn't trust Gaku. The man was hiding something. Takuma didn't know what, and he didn't have anything tangible to support his claim, but he couldn't shrug off the wriggling suspicion that there was something off about the guy.

"When do we leave?" asked Daiki.

"Seven days from tomorrow," Anko answered.

"That's not long," Iori groaned. "I need to start preparing today."

"I need to make arrangements as well," said Daiki.

"Get me a list of what you need. I will sit with the jonin and the quartermaster and make sure you get whatever provisions you need," said Anko. She turned to Rikku. "What about you?"

Rikku shrugged. "I'm ready to leave tonight."

Team-9 smiled at Rikku's nonchalant attitude. Whatever might be going on, there wasn't much that could derail Rikku from her usual taciturn and collected self. It was a constant that they had come to appreciate.

"Okay then, let's start preparation. We have a long week ahead of us and a longer couple months after that."

———

Takuma returned to his room after a long and tiring day to find both his water clones present. The tutor clone was preparing for the lesson while the duty clone was lying on his back, stuck to the ceiling.

"Thanks for leaving the bed," Takuma said as he plopped himself on the stiff bed.

"You look tired. New training?" asked the guard clone.

Takuma responded as he removed his socks. "We are going on a mission. Just Team-9 behind enemy lines. Information gathering and urban guerilla warfare. We leave in a week from tomorrow…"

"Sounds dangerous," the study clone commented.

"I don't feel it right now," said Takuma. "It'll probably hit me when we get smuggled into the city. I feel tense, though. They're attaching this retired Hidden Steam shinobi to the team—mid to late thirties—as our local connect. I don't like him."

One would think that talking to his own clones would feel strange, but it wasn't bad. He didn't have a mental connection with the clones, so he didn't know what they were thinking—but because they were literally him, he knew how their heads worked. He didn't need to hide any of his feelings or thoughts because he was talking to himself, and they would understand where he was coming from.

The conversations were comfortable because he could guess what they would say.

There were no surprises.

"Retired?" said the tutor clone. "Which means he's not from the Hidden Steam people on the base?"

"Oh, I know that guy," said the duty clone. "I know that guy."

"Pardon me, what?" Takuma looked up at the ceiling in surprise.

"Yeah, he just came in today, early morning. We chatted for a bit. Nice guy," said the duty clone.

"Nice guy!?" Takuma exclaimed, feeling betrayed by his own clone. "Fuck you!"

"You mean, fuck me? Thanks, but I'm not really into selfcest."

"I already used that joke," the tutor clone laughed.

"No, you didn't; you aren't even the same clone," said the duty clone.

"Shut up, both of you," Takuma grabbed his head.

It suddenly became so clear why Gaku looked like he knew him. It was because Gaku had chatted with the duty clone in the morning. And to Gaku, it would've seemed like Takuma was being rude by pretending not to know him. Gaku wasn't at fault. The blame completely fell on Takuma's head.

"Why didn't he just say so?"

Takuma groaned with the urge to throw himself off the Hokage Mountain. He had needlessly created the wrong impression on an instrumental ally who would be attached to the team for the duration of a very dangerous mission. He had done a disservice to his team and the camp by his actions.

"Ah, so that's what happened," the duty clone laughed on the ceiling after listening to Takuma's story.

"Just apologize to him later," said the tutor clone, finishing his lesson preparation. "Come now, it's time to study. There's much to cover today; don't you dare slack off!"

Takuma sighed deeply.

———

A couple days later, Anko gathered Team-9 in a room and dumped a thick stack of black paper and envelopes on the table.

There was a long silence as Anko looked at the team with a difficult expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" asked Iori, worried.

The others seemed worried as well. Anko's behavior was different from her usual bright self. The current her was even different from her rare serious self during important situations. She looked glum as she faced them.

"I haven't done this before, so I don't know the right way to do it… but here we go." Anko took a deep breath. "We are going on a dangerous mission where the chances of death are high. Because we'll be going behind enemy line—there's a chance that if we're found, our bodies might not be found after our death. They won't find any mementos, nothing at all, so it's probably wise to leave something of you behind…

"I want every one of you to write letters to as many people as you'd like," she said.

The team realized what Anko was asking them to do it. The mood of the room changed in an instant. An awkwardness settled in as they looked at each other with uncomfortable looks.

"… I'll suggest that you guys also draw wills for your possessions—"

"I'm not doing any of that," Daiki interrupted her, looking both deeply uncomfortable and somewhat angry.

"Daiki, I understand this is not something easy—"

Daiki stopped her again. "I'm not going to die, so there's no need for… this." The usually gentle giant exuded a feeling of sharp prickliness that if he was forced, he would blow up. "You all are free to do so, but please leave me out of it," said Daiki, leaving the room and leaving the team in an even more awkward situation.

Kameko walked to the table from the wall she was leaning against and silently picked up a bunch of paper and envelopes before wordlessly leaving the room.

Takuma stared at the papers. He understood where Daiki was coming from. Writing those letters and drafting the will was, in one way, accepting the prospect of death. That was a difficult thing to accept, even in their occupation. Takuma didn't want to die, but he knew he could die on missions—but even he found the prospect of writing a memento letter to his friends daunting and unpleasant.

But as Anko said, it was probably wise to do it.

So with a deep breath, Takuma took the step forward towards the papers and envelopes.

———

AN:

Here are the results of the poll.

The votes across all the sites I post the story on have been added.

USUAL - 375 votes

NEW - 411 votes

(Only Webnovel | 88 - 132)

———

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The link is in the synopsis!