The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the training field where Renjiro Uzumaki and Kakashi Hatake stood. Both boys, though already experienced jounins, now found themselves in the gruelling process of ANBU training.
The atmosphere around them was tense but purposeful—this was no ordinary training; this was a transformation. While being an ordinary shinobi trained one to become a tool for the village and the feudal system, an anbu was trained how to become a weapon in the system.
Renjiro wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as he watched Kakashi execute a series of precise movements, each one deliberate, and calculated.
They were learning not to fight like themselves, to erase the individuality that made them known among their peers. In ANBU, there was no place for the flair of a signature jutsu or the distinctive style of a well-known shinobi, unless in peculiar situations. Everything had to be uniform, standardized, and designed to protect their identities.
"Again," Yano said.
Renjiro nodded, stepping into the sparring ring with Kakashi. They both knew the drill by now—no personal styles, no flashy moves. Every strike, every counter, had to be neutral, and impersonal, so that no one could ever link them back to who they truly were.
It was a strange feeling for Renjiro, who had spent years honing his own unique fighting style. He had developed it to reflect his heritage, combining the brute force of the Uzumaki with the finesse of his Uchiha bloodline. Now, all of that had to be set aside.
Renjiro moved first, throwing a series of jabs, followed by a sweeping leg kick. Kakashi blocked the strikes effortlessly, his movements mirroring Renjiro's, as if they were reflections of each other. The fight was textbook—nothing that could give them away. No wild movements, no intricate jutsu, just cold, efficient combat.
"Thud!"
"Thud!"
Their fists collided, a rhythm as repetitive and mechanical as the training itself. Renjiro's muscles strained with each strike, but his mind was focused, and disciplined.
The training was unlike anything he had experienced before, even more advanced than the rigorous drills he had gone through during his time in the police forces. The ANBU training wasn't just about fighting; it was about becoming a shadow, a ghost in the world of shinobi.
'This is harder than I expected,' Renjiro thought, sidestepping a quick punch from Kakashi.
Renjiro's previous training had been focused on winning battles, completing missions, and fighting in the heat of war. But in ANBU, the focus was all-encompassing: stealth, espionage, assassination, and most importantly, anonymity. It was an entirely new way of thinking, a shift in mentality.
While they say that learning a technique or skill while young was optimal, it was also the same when it came to unlearning some of them. Fortunately, Renjiro and Kakashi were not that far into life.
Yano stepped forward, nodding approvingly. "Better," he muttered, his voice barely audible through his mask. "But remember—no distinct techniques. Keep it clean, keep it untraceable."
As the week passed, the training intensified. Renjiro and Kakashi were drilled not only in combat but also in stealth techniques, covert movements, and how to eliminate targets without leaving any trace.
The training was gruelling, but Renjiro found himself adapting quickly, even noting that this regime was far more advanced than what he had experienced in the past.
'It's no longer just about brute force or even tactical brilliance,' Renjiro mused to himself during one of their brief breaks.
'It's about being invisible—about eliminating all traces of who we are.' He recalled his previous experience in the force, the way the clan had trained him to fight and win battles through sheer power and precision.
In ANBU, the goal was different. Stealth and deception were just as important as strength, if not more so. Here, the art of killing silently, disappearing without a trace, was honed to a razor's edge.
On the eve of their first mission, Yano called both Renjiro and Kakashi into the training room. It was late, the evening casting a deep, orange glow over the compound.
"Tomorrow, we begin our first mission," he said, his voice steady and composed.
"I expect you both to come fully prepared."
Renjiro and Kakashi nodded in unison, neither of them saying a word. They knew the gravity of their training, and more importantly, they understood the weight of the missions they would soon be undertaking.
Yano was not one to sugarcoat things—he expected nothing less than perfection, not even their best.
"Rest up," Yano added. "You'll need it."
The next day arrived swiftly. Renjiro and Kakashi were summoned to the mission briefing in the evening. The room was dimly lit, only a single lamp casting light over the large map that Yano had unfurled on the table. His gaze was focused, his voice low but commanding as he explained the situation to his new recruits.
"Konoha's intelligence network has picked up some troubling information," Yano began, pointing to a region near the Land of Fire's borders.
"The Village Hidden in the Grass—Kusagakure—has been quietly gathering up military forces near our borders. They've been amassing resources, and it's clear that they're preparing for something."
Renjiro leaned in, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied the map. The Grass Village had never been a major player in the grander schemes of the shinobi world, but that made their recent actions all the more concerning.
Why would a smaller, less influential village like Kusagakure be preparing for war? And against whom?
"Kusagakure doesn't have the strength to engage Konoha directly," Yano continued, his finger tracing the lines of the border.
"Which means one of two things—either they've become emboldened for no apparent reason, or someone is backing them."
Kakashi tilted his head slightly, his sharp mind already piecing together the possibilities. "If someone is backing them," he said, his voice quiet but firm, "it could mean one of the other great shinobi nations is involved."
Yano nodded, his expression grim. "Exactly. The Land of Fire doesn't neighbour any of the five great shinobi nations, but if Kusagakure is building up its forces, it could mean that one of those larger villages—perhaps Iwagakure or Kumogakure—is pulling the strings from behind the scenes."
Renjiro's mind raced as he processed the information. If a village like Kusagakure was preparing for conflict, it was no small matter. Even if they were acting independently, Konoha couldn't afford to let such actions go unchecked. A war with Kusagakure, no matter how small, could weaken Konoha's position in the region and invite larger, more dangerous enemies.
Yano's voice broke through Renjiro's thoughts. "Even if Kusagakure is acting on their own, Konoha can't take any chances. We have to deal with this quickly and efficiently to maintain our standing in the region."
Renjiro looked at Yano, his brow furrowed in thought. "So, the mission is to eliminate the force they're gathering at the border?"
Before Yano could respond, Kakashi added his own insight, his voice calm but calculated. "Or are we supposed to destroy their supply lines and weaken their ability to sustain a larger force?"
'That's an even better plan,' Renjiro quickly thought.
Yano looked at both of them, a small, almost imperceptible smile forming beneath his mask. "Those are good ideas," he said, his voice taking on a darker tone.
"But no. The village will send a regular team to handle their forces directly."
Both Renjiro and Kakashi exchanged a glance, their eyes questioning but remaining silent as Yano continued.
"Instead of putting out this fire," Yano said, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to the map, "our goal is to start another one."
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