After cleaning up the scene, Team Otofū remained in the area for a while longer.
Only after confirming that no stragglers had come to investigate did the four of them make the dusty journey back to the border town.
After a brief rest, they set out on the road home.
As for that shabby little town—so insignificant it didn’t even have a name and could be abandoned again at any time—the Sunagakure shinobi had no intention of disturbing its residents any further.
Why hadn’t they completely eliminated the bandits’ accomplices hidden within the town?
Aside from avoiding the slaughter of innocents, there was another reason that was difficult to admit.
Shinobi were mercenaries born from conflict.
If the ninja world were truly at peace, there would be no place left for shinobi.
Although the Five Great Nations had enjoyed more than a decade of peace, wars among the smaller countries had never truly ceased.
Close to home, the Land of Grass and the Land of Earth were still fighting intermittent border wars.
Then there was the Land of Rain.
Several great hidden villages continued backing proxy forces, each hoping to control that perpetually rain-soaked strategic location.
Those proxy wars had continued throughout Hanzo’s era and had never completely stopped.
Rebellions sprang up one after another, though things had calmed down somewhat over the past couple of years.
The barren Land of Wind never had many missions to begin with.
Border regions where neither country exercised much authority generated a steady stream of assassination contracts and escort requests, contributing a considerable portion of Sunagakure’s income.
Bandit gangs, bounty hunters who operated in the underworld, rogue ninja…
Sunagakure wasn’t particularly opposed to accepting the lucrative missions that came from dealing with such people.
After all, they were nearly impossible to eradicate completely.
Even if great effort was spent wiping them out, before long they would simply reappear.
Sunagakure’s shinobi weren’t detached sages who lived above worldly concerns.
Naturally, they had little interest in doing thankless work.
Shinobi were not always champions of justice.
Especially for Sunagakure ninja, whose circumstances were far from ideal, this was a reality they had to accept.
Survive.
Then strive to live a little better.
It had nothing to do with good or evil.
Only with where one stood.
“Daimaru.”
Yome, who had been deep in thought throughout the journey, finally spoke as the direction of Sunagakure came into view.
Since they were no longer pressed for time, the group had stopped to rest.
“Shinobi are always saying they’re nothing more than tools to complete missions.”
“Is that just a way to make themselves feel better?”
If they were merely tools…
If they were merely weapons…
Then they wouldn’t have to feel guilty about the blood on their hands.
Shifting the responsibility onto the client who issued the mission was certainly an effective way to convince oneself.
“You can think about it that way if you want.”
Daimaru smiled.
He reached over and casually ruffled Yome’s fluffy twin tails.
The familiar soft texture felt surprisingly nice.
It had been a long time since he’d done that.
A wave of nostalgia washed over him.
“Tools.”
“Teammates.”
“Protection.”
“Inheritance.”
“All of that falls under what people call a shinobi’s way.”
“If you want to keep walking the path of a shinobi without wavering, sooner or later you’ll have to choose one for yourself.”
“A lot of shinobi spend their entire lives without figuring it out.”
“So if you’re asking me…”
“…I don’t know either.”
The three Genin rested in a sheltered spot protected from the wind.
A sandstorm seemed to be brewing nearby, so Otofū had gone ahead to scout the situation.
If one passed through the area, it could be quite dangerous for Genin.
“Stop messing up my hair.”
“It already got blown all over the place by the wind.”
“It’s uncomfortable enough as it is.”
Yome slapped away Daimaru’s rude hand and hurried behind Chi, glaring at him unhappily.
“Alright.”
Chi smiled as she comforted Yome while giving Daimaru a reproachful look.
“Stop bullying your teammate.”
“You might need Yome’s help someday.”
“By then, it’ll be too late to regret it.”
She paused before asking,
“So, Daimaru…”
“…what’s your shinobi way?”
“My shinobi way?”
Daimaru burst into laughter.
“Talking about something like a shinobi way is still a bit premature.”
“But I do have one goal right now.”
“To make Temari feel the intensity of my love!”
“Well…”
Chi couldn’t help smiling.
“Temari likes handsome guys with refined features.”
“As for someone like you…”
“…I don’t think you’ve got much of a chance.”
After living for years beneath the scorching sun and relentless sandstorms, it would have been strange if anyone from Sunagakure still looked like a delicate pretty boy.
“If that’s your standard, there aren’t many men in Sunagakure who qualify.”
Looks and temperament depended partly on natural talent and partly on upbringing.
“I’ve given up trying to persuade you.”
“An idiot like you wouldn’t listen anyway.”
Chi glanced outside.
The wind seemed to have weakened slightly.
“You keep saying you’re going to participate in this year’s Chunin Exams.”
“Is it all for Temari?”
After all, a man who couldn’t even defeat the woman he liked would be rather pathetic.
“You want to perform brilliantly during the Chunin Exams so Temari will finally notice you?”
“Judging by your current strength…”
“…that sounds pretty difficult.”
“I already have my own plans.”
Daimaru declared confidently.
“The Chunin Exams always begin with team-based tests and end with individual matches.”
“The details change every time, but the overall format is more or less the same.”
“After that…”
“You can do whatever you want.”
“Even withdrawing won’t matter.”
Although his self-improvement hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d hoped, after so many years since his transmigration, he had at least accomplished something.
With his complete knowledge of the Chunin Exams, he simply couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t give it a try.
“You’re certainly confident.”
Chi studied the self-assured look in Daimaru’s eyes before speaking meaningfully.
“If that’s really the case…”
“…shouldn’t you let your teammates see what you’re capable of?”
“It’d give us a little confidence too.”
As she spoke, Chi flipped open her war fan.
Beside her, Yome drew a kunai and looked at Daimaru provocatively.
“Oh?”
“So you two planned this in advance.”
“You wanted to test your new teammate’s strength.”
The smile disappeared from Daimaru’s face.
“If I can’t convince you today…”
“…then you probably won’t take anything I say seriously from now on.”
“Big talk only means something if you have the strength to back it up.”
“Otherwise, dragging two girls into embarrassing themselves alongside you is pretty disgraceful.”
With a graceful flick of her fan, Chi moved.
The endless sand filling Daimaru’s vision suddenly disappeared.
Everything around him faded into dull monochrome, like a charcoal sketch losing its color.
The sky and earth began twisting violently.
The entire world spun, collapsed, and pressed down toward him.
“Genjutsu?”
“Interesting.”
“But your casting movements were far too obvious.”
As he spoke, Daimaru thrust both hands into the distorted space before him.
Without warning, he caught a whip-like kick sweeping toward his side.
He yanked hard.
Then, with a clean shoulder throw, he sent his attacker flying.
“Not enough strength.”
“Your reactions are too slow.”
“You attack recklessly.”
“And you have absolutely no contingency for the enemy’s counterattack.”
“Your taijutsu still needs work.”
“You’re lacking experience.”
Facing an apparently empty patch of air, Daimaru formed a hand seal.
“Release!”
The distorted scenery rapidly dissolved, returning the world to normal.
Not far away, Chi crouched on one knee after being thrown.
A dark handprint on her right calf testified to the surprising strength of Daimaru’s grip.
Standing slightly behind her, Yome supported Chi’s flank.
Moments earlier, she’d exerted considerable effort to catch Chi and prevent her from crashing to the ground after Daimaru’s throw.
(End of Chapter)