Genetics were a funny thing. The people of the Elemental Nations haven't yet reached the level of understanding possessed by those on modern Earth, but with the presence of bloodlines and other causes for obsession, they were bound to notice some things.
Like how desirable traits weren't always passed down from parent to child, even if both parents possessed a bloodline. This was what led to the creation of the Ichikawa family, a pruned branch of the Bakuhatsu clan who had somewhere along the way lost the ability to manifest the Earth affinity needed to utilize the Explosion release. They possessed lingering traits relating to the bloodline; most notably, they were capable of using Akaiyama, an active technique that dispersed heat and kinetic force. That was the source of the Bakuhastu's purported explosion immunity.
Ichikawa Haya went through cycles of bitterness and acceptance regarding her lot in life. It could be far worse, she supposed. No, she couldn't blow things up with a single touch, but the Akaiyama was still an incredibly useful technique that could easily save her life in the field. It didn't just make her immune to traditional explosions; she could also resist other expressions of kinetic energy, like blunt force from weaponry and taijutsu. Plus, she had a strong lightning affinity, which was a rarity in Iwagakure. And everyone knew that rare and valuable were all but synonyms.
Plus, her family remained close to the Bakuhatsu clan, even after they were (civilly) kicked out of it. It was the reason she got her job with the Explosion Corps, which was a cushy gig. It paid well, and came with a fair deal of status.
There was one reason she was glad the explosion release hadn't been passed down to her family. If it had, her idiot sister would have attempted to follow in Bakuhatsu Gorou's footsteps, and lost her ability to mold jutsu along with almost all functionality in her hands.
Either that, or she would have succeeded in implementing the kinjutsu. If anyone in this generation could, it would be her.
Haya wasn't sure which alternative scared her more. She would never admit it to the newly minted genin, but her little sister scared her sometimes. Haya would give it five years before she made jonin.
"Yatta!" the girl in question cheered, standing in the middle of a moderately sized bonfire Haya had lit in the basement of the Explosion Corps' headquarters. It was the only place she could find that was discrete; the mere existence of the Akaiyama was a secret, so no one should so much as witness their training. Just about everyone in this building knew the technique already, but she kept the windowless, steel door closed just in case.
"Good job, Hanabi," Haya congratulated, trying to stuff down the pit in her stomach. She had been putting off teaching her sister this technique, claiming that it wasn't necessary for her to learn just yet. She didn't have the Explosion Release, after all, and she wasn't in danger of running afoul of any tags stuck behind a desk in the academy.
But now, Ichikawa Hanabi had graduated, and was placed on a genin team headed by Oe Fudoki, a highly gifted jonin set to take on the three highest scorers of this year's graduation exam.
Haya passed her own graduation exam, actually, but hadn't scored high enough to make it onto a team. Instead of being shunted into the genin corp, she was quickly scooped up by Bakuhatsu Gari, which was something she'd be eternally grateful for.
She had hoped the same fate would befall her sister. Hanabi had the personality and the skill to drag the Explosion Corps back into the spotlight, something the girl had mutually wanted for years. She had always held Haya in high esteem, and the elder sister dreaded the day that Hanabi would realize she had long surpassed her.
Take this instance, for example. It had taken months for Haya to successfully use the Akaiyama, and that was considered impressive. Hanabi managed it in a day. Haya knew she would, too. That's why she had put off this training for so long.
"You still want to join the Explosion Corps one day, right Hanabi?" Haya asked, realizing belatedly that her voice sounded smaller than she intended it to.
"Huh? Yeah, I still want that. But I can't exactly turn down having a jonin sensei, can I?"
As if that was a choice. If she didn't want a jonin sensei, she shouldn't have scored so well.
"Of course not," Haya said, hating herself for her weakness and for feeling inadequate. She loved her sister more than anything. Both their parents had died at the tail end of the last war, in the final strike against Konoha. Though they didn't have the full bloodline, they marched and died alongside the Explosion Corps, and the sisters would always be proud of that. But the honor in their loss still didn't change the fact that they didn't have anyone aside from each other.
"Learn how to be a kickass ninja, and hey. You might just be the next captain of the Explosion Corp."
"You really think so?" she asked, hopefully.
"Well, you don't exactly have competition." The Explosion Corps had Bakuhatsu Gari at its head, but they couldn't send him into the field. Not any more, at least; he was the only one who knew how to run the unit, whilst handling the politics and who knows what else went on behind the scenes. If something happened to him, the Explosion Corp would be well and truly fucked.
This was getting uncharacteristically sappy, so Haya gave her sister a toothy grin.
"How about we put your new technique to the test?" she proposed.
"Hell yeah!" she cocked her head to the side. "What do you have in mind?"
"Just wait here," Haya turned to leave, but hesitated. Some explanation and assurance was probably necessary.
"I'm going to introduce you to someone who works here, kinda. A, uh, not really sure what to call her. Associate of the Explosion Corps. To be clear, I'm only doing this because you're gonna be one of us one day. I expect discretion, or we'll both face consequences. Got it?"
"I'm not an amatuer. I won't say shit."
With a nod of satisfaction, Haya went off to look for the little gremlin that scuttled around this floor. She was pretty sure she caught a glimpse of the kid earlier.
"Oi, brat," she called, peeking her head around the corner of Bakuhatsu-sama's second office, and deftly caught the crumpled up piece of paper that had been thrown at her face.
"What do you want?" Imai Kasaiki asked. Their little…intern had her nose in one of the books Bakuhatsu-sama had smuggled in for her.
"Don't be like that," Haya grinned. "I've found a guinea pig for your fancy new seal. The one you've been yapping about for weeks."
"First off, it hasn't been weeks. I finished it last week, no one was willing to test it, and this is the first time I've been here since. And second, I wouldn't take that patronizing tone if I were you. Not when I just finished something you've spent years spinning your gears over. Failure."
The kid sure knew how to go for the throat. Haya had never heard such disdain drip from a mouth so young. She ignored the statement, cutting truth to it and all.
"We'll see if it lives up to your boasting. I have a live test subject for you to test them on."
The girl's eyes widened. "What the fuck? Why? Is this a T thing?"
"Nope. One of ours just unlocked her bloodline. I want to see if you can overpower it."
"Overpower?" Kasaiki repeated. "I didn't know your bloodline could be overpowered."
"It can't, usually," she lied. The threshold varied from person to person, and could be raised through exposure as well. But again, that wasn't knowledge that could be spread around. "However, it takes a week to settle. After that, they'll have full immunity."
The girl hummed, face blank, and Haya wasn't sure if she bought it. She let the matter drop nonetheless, and got to her feet. The tags in question were in one of Bakuhatsu-sama's desk drawers.
"I'm not responsible if I maim your clansman, then," she stated.
She wouldn't be able to. Haya had faith in her sister, and she lied in her explanation besides. The "first week" thing was complete bogus.
In her head, this would be a completely safe interaction. However, when they rejoined Hanabi, and both she and Kasaiki froze at the sight of one another, Haya realized that she might not have thought this through as thoroughly as she should have.
"Chibi?" Hanabi asked, aghast.
"You're a fucking idiot," Kasaiki spat at Haya, ignoring the younger Ichikawa for now. "I am not getting in trouble for this. You better fucking tell Gari this was your doing."
"Woah, woah," Haya said, a sinking feeling in her gut. "What's this about getting in trouble with Bakuhatsu-sama?"
"Uh, the part where no one from my personal life is supposed to know about me being involved with the Explosion Corps?"
"Yeah, why the fuck are you involved with the Explosion Corps?" Hanabi asked, eyes darting between the two. "And how do you know nee-san?"
"Nee-san?" Kasaiki repeated, slapping herself on the forehead. "Kami, I should have fucking known."
"Okay, time out here," Haya said quickly. "You two know each other?"
"Yeah, she's my kouhai," her little sister said.
"Not your kouhai," the smaller girl denied immediately, not that Hanabi seemed to care.
"She's super advanced, so she joins us for lessons sometimes. Advanced hand seals, most recently. And I taught her chakra enhancement."
"I'll let you take credit for that, only because I feel bad about breaking your arm," she grumbled, and Hanabi looked at her in shock.
"You knew about that?"
"Duh."
Haya's brain was moving at sixty miles per hour. She knew that Kasaiki was good, and had felt her chakra enhancement first-hand. Bakuhatsu-sama learned from her file that she had good internal chakra control, a niche skill that wasn't especially useful in most scenarios. That plus her unusual intelligence made her a curiosity, but not one that would stay on anyone with authority's radar for long. Especially as her grades would dip from the strain of their arrangement.
Except, to Bakuhatsu-sama's consternation, they weren't actually dipping. And, even more perplexingly, she was completing each one of her weekly quotas. Bakuhatsu-sama would have increased them, she knew, to ramp up the stress. However, he was already purchasing as much ink as he was legally allowed to. It was moderately difficult to source, after all.
Bakuhatsu-sama wanted to use her failure to dig her deep into seal debt, which, if some of his other machinations bore fruit, could cement his hold over her future. But she wasn't falling behind in the slightest, and neither one of them knew how. The only marginally unique thing about her process was that she used a stencil, something that wasn't especially uncommon. However, it was a tool only typically used by beginners, and as such Haya teased her relentlessly over it. To her face at least; once, when the girl wasn't around, she spent well over an hour messing around with the instrument, sure that the key to her success was hidden in there somewhere. But it was a regular, thin piece of wood, stained black from overuse.
Bakuhatsu-sama was banking on being able to keep a firm hand on Kasaiki. She herself had already done half the work, by constructing a facade of normalcy prior to her accident, which bordered on incompetence after the fact. But if Kasaiki was being allowed to sit in on advanced classes, she may have attracted more attention than Bakuhatsu-sama had bargained on.
She shook her head. Bakuhatsu-sama knew what he was doing, and there was no shot he would be outplayed by a kid who hadn't nearly reached double digits. What Hanabi revealed probably wasn't news to him.
"Hanabi will be a part of the Explosion Corps one day," she said, pushing away her surprise. "It's no biggie if she knows about you."
"So are you going to tell me why a six-year-old still in the academy is working with the Explosion Corps?" Hanabi asked with a frown.
Kasaiki snorted bitterly, drawing Hanabi's gaze, but fielded the question to Haya.
"She's one of our in-house explosion tag manufacturers," she settled on.
"You can make explosion tags?" Hanabi asked. "I don't know how to make explosion tags!"
"I'm sure your sister would love to teach you, after all the times she left me high and dry to train with you," Kasaiki sniped.
Admittedly, that did happen rather often.
"Anyway, Kasaiki-chan has just finished up an explosive tag variant that suppoooosedly," she drew out the word to be incendiary, "only explodes from its face. I figured we could test it out on you."
The look on Hanabi's face told her they'd have more words later, but she dropped the subject for now.
"I'm game," she said, grinning sharply at Kasaiki. "And here I thought I wouldn't get the chance to show you up again."
"I should have guessed you two were related from your shared talent of coming up with bullshit that has absolutely no basis in reality. When have you ever shown me up?"
Hanabi's grin dipped, and Haya got the sense that Kasaiki wasn't usually this mean. Now, her tone was straight acid, with none of Hanabi's geniality and friendly competitiveness reflected inside.
For the first time, in regards to Kasaiki, she felt bad. She knew the girl hated her, and frankly she hadn't made a single attempt to stifle that. But Haya hadn't known that she and Hanabi were friends.
"Are these complete complete?" she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"Yeah," Kasaiki grunted, knowing Haya was referring to the presence of the neutralization matrix.
"Then let's get started."
Haya palmed one of the tags. There was a quiet sizzle as the fuse lit, and she struck out towards her sister with a palm strike. It exploded, and Hanabi yelped in shock rather than pain as she was engulfed in fire.
She stumbled backwards gracelessly, coughing as she landed on her ass. Smoke inhalation, which they weren't protected from with their bloodline technique, was a bitch.
"You might want to root yourself with chakra, sis," Haya said, blandly.
"You could have told me that," Hanabi spluttered.
"I thought it was common sense," Haya lied, remembering how she made the exact same mistake when she herself had first learned the Akaiyama.
"Again," she ground out, and Haya acquiesced. She kept her footing, this time. Meanwhile, Kasaiki was leaning against one of the concrete walls, brow furrowed.
"You know, if anyone who wasn't an Ichikawa or a Bakuhatsu used this seal like I did, it would still rip their arm off," Haya said, slinking over to her as Hanabi took a breather.
"I know," she said. "Which is why I've been asking you to test them. I've successfully directioned the explosive tag, but there's still the recoil to consider. And there's no way to just keep that from happening. That's not how physics works. The force has to go somewhere." she eyed Hanabi speculatively. "You know, if you could just point me in the right direction, that would really help."
She was, in a roundabout way, asking how the Akaiyama worked.
"I'm not telling you how our bloodline works," she said bluntly. "Even if I wanted to, I can't."
"Yeah, I get that," Kasaiki said, annoyance clear in her tone. "But if your boss wants to get rid of the recoil, I need to know how to disperse the explosive force. And every one of you has the key to me figuring out how to do that. It's like you're telling me to treat a potentially deadly disease, but you aren't letting me examine the people who survived it. It's stupid."
Haya knew that, but it didn't change reality. No one could know the secrets to their bloodline.
"Look, I don't give a shit about anything other than this. When you get hit by an explosion, where does the force go?"
"Look, I don't know, okay!" Haya snapped, the admission bitter on her tongue. "I don't know. I'm not sure if anyone else knows either. And I challenge you to find any bloodline user who can. We don't question how our techniques work, we just use them."
Kasaiki was quiet for a moment, before scoffing. "Then you really are useless." She turned to the door. "If you won't give me an elegant solution, I only have one idea that might work. Tell Gari to get me guides on how to make sealing scrolls."
"Sealing scrolls?" Haya repeated.
"Yeah. I learned that it's possible to seal elements. From where I'm standing, it isn't out of the realm of possibility that I can figure out how to do that with the blowback of an explosion. Unless you give me something better, that's my only lead."
She made to leave.
"Uh, bye," Hanabi called sarcastically, and it was only because they were sisters that Haya could hear the hurt in her voice.
Kasaiki, hand on the doorknob sighed. "Congrats on making it on a jonin team. I looked up your sensei—A-rank. You did good. Find me sometime when you're not busy with your team or your bitch sister. And give Aki and Teramoto-san my best."
Then, she left.
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
Iwao smelled a rat, and he was pretty damn sure its name started with a K.
It all started at the beginning of their third year, when Yoshiro-sensei assigned them homework. It was nothing like the worksheets they'd had to contend with previously, however. First off, they apparently represented a significant percentage of their Shinobi Operations (which replaced their History class) grade.
"Missions are a shinobi's lifeblood," Yoshiro-sensei had said. "Ever since the warring clans era, shinobi have put food on the table by offering their services to those willing to pay for them. In the hidden village system, it is no different. Which is why you will be expected to complete missions quickly and effectively, and in a manner befitting of a shinobi of Iwagakure."
He raised a hand. In it, he held a small stack of notecards with names on top. Asa Hifume's was on top, so it stood to reason each one was addressed to a member of Iwao's class.
"Starting today, each of you will receive missions," he said. "Some will be easy, some will be difficult. All will be due at the end of the week. If you are unable to complete your mission, you will automatically lose twenty percent of your final grade in Shinobi Operations. Each additional incomplete mission will result in another twenty percent reduction. That means that, if you are unable to complete five missions, you will receive a zero in the class, regardless of how well you perform on tests or other assignments."
He paused for emphasis, appearing to be satisfied that his students understood the gravity of his message. A zero in any class would preclude the recipient from sitting the graduation exam, which meant they would be sent straight to the genin corp.
"However, simply completing the terms of a mission assignment isn't enough for an Iwa shinobi," he announced. "You will be expected to act with discretion, and maintain client confidentiality. Often when it comes to higher ranked missions, success invites retribution from antagonistic groups. If you fail to disguise your actions during a sensitive mission, our clients may be persecuted. Merchants talk, so word could easily spread and make prospective clients wary about hiring Iwa nin. Do not bring shame upon our village."
His eyes narrowed.
"Or worse, your actions could put us in conflict with another hidden village. As you have learned, both great wars were catalyzed by missions gone wrong. Of course, the reasons for each went well beyond that, but our current political landscape is tenser than it ever has been in a time of peace. Don't be the reason we go to war."
That seemed to frighten some people. Iwao didn't know why. Was this news to them? Hadn't they noticed, or heard?
Every Saturday, Iwao spent an entire day mingling with traveling merchants in the business district. With sweet words and fawning admiration, he ingratiated himself with people from all over the Elemental Nations. He could appreciate the relaxation of it all, but he didn't do it for fun. He watched, listened and learned, knowing his observations could allow him to trick enemies during a mission, or pick out spies back home.
As a result, Iwao was more in tune with current events than most. Merchants saw everything, and like Yoshiro-sensei said, they weren't shy about discussing it (as long as they could be sure no one present would lop their head off for doing so). He knew that there had been a "mission gone wrong" like the one Yoshiro-sensei described, carried out by Kumo against Konoha. The Raikage had an unfavorable reputation, and had boldly begun garrisoning villages in both Lightning and Frost. Meanwhile, Konoha had been steadily funneling resources into their agricultural centers, and had reached a prolific trade agreement with the Land of Tea, which would have been considered financially unfavorable for the Land of Fire. It implied that Konoha was hoarding food for prolonged conflict. Even Suna, still licking its many wounds from the last war, had begun to show its teeth.
Iwa wasn't sitting back either. The Tsuchikage had taken four, highly publicized trips to Kusagakure in just as many months, gifting resources, trade favors and even manpower, both civilian and ninja. One merchant who had just left claimed it was just as common to see a rock headband in the village as it was to see a grass one. Kusa, of course, held immense strategic value, especially in a conflict against Konoha. Additionally, his village was importing a wide variety of non-perishables from the east.
War was coming. Iwao was the last person who needed to be told that.
"Therefore," Yoshiro-sensei continued. "There will be some added factors that will impact each grade you receive for the completion of your missions. First, there is the time bonus. Yes, you must complete your mission in a week, but for each day you complete the task early, you will receive bonus points. However, know that if your hastiness prevents you from completing your mission perfectly, you will lose far more points than you gain. Now, the second factor relates to my last anecdote. If one of your classmates learns the object of your mission, you will lose thirty-five percent of your score."
Ishimoto Eiji raised his hand.
"Gomen, sensei. How will you know if one of us figures out another person's mission?"
"I suppose I'll have no way of knowing," he said, nonchalantly. "Unless that person tells me. Which they most likely will."
Iwao had been in Yoshiro-sensei's class long enough to guess why. The man always had a twist, another test buried underneath the first.
"If you uncover the objective of one of your classmates' missions, and you report it to me, you will receive ten bonus points. Not to this assignment; you can apply them to any grade in any class. I'll even allow you to mix and match them. However, if you guess wrong, you will lose points on this assignment. So best be sure, understood?"
The room was silent, but there were several obvious questions that Yoshiro-sensei knew his students wanted to ask.
"I'm not doing this to divide you," he said. "Just as it is important to hide your mission objectives, it is also important to be able to ascertain the mission objectives of enemies you encounter. As such, I expect you to be mature, and not retaliate against anyone who reports you. If they are successful, know that it is only due to your own failure. Therefore, if you lose points in this circumstance, and are able to identify how you lost said points, you will gain some of them back. It doesn't matter whether it's through your own deduction, or because the person who identified your mission outright tells you. I will not force the informant to self identify. They will have the right to choose whether or not to do so themselves."
It made sense. He saw the value in each lesson. Still, he highly doubted his class would turn on one another at all, much less decline to self-identify and assist the targeted classmate in earning back some of the points they lost.
Apparently, he was dead wrong. Almost every week, one or multiple people were snitched on, only to realize it once they got their graded missions back the following Monday. Most at risk were those in Iwao's circle (though that admittedly encompassed most of the class). So, Iwao felt honor-bound to expose the perpetrator.
Perpetrator, single. Iwao was fairly certain that was the case; it happened too consistently, and too cleanly each time. This person had a method that worked, and to them it was a simple matter of repetition.
He asked his father for advice, and had gotten it in spades. The Red Ogres dealt in secrets, infiltration and especially counter-espionage. If he wanted to enter the family business, there was no better place to start than here.
"The targets aren't high in the class rankings," his father had told him. "What does that imply?"
"That the perpetrator's focus is boosting their own grade, rather than sabotaging anyone else's?" Iwao guessed.
"Correct. Naturally, anyone in your class will be concerned with improving their grade, but this helps us flesh out a profile. Now, we've looked at the targets. Do you think any of them are capable of something like this? We can't discount the possibility that they intentionally painted themselves as a victim to ward off suspicion."
Iwao had considered the possibility, briefly. But—
"I don't think they're capable of it," he said, trying to sound sure of himself. "They don't have the information gathering skill."
Plus, Iwao knew them. He spoke with them often; they had bonds. They were close, and he knew that none of them would turn on one another like that. People outside their group, perhaps, but not each other.
"Then perhaps we should look to the people who have't been targeted," he said. "I assume you have a list."
"Yes. Everyone rank nine and up." Plus one other, whose name he didn't want to mention in front of his father.
"Who might also have the skill to uncover your friends' missions," he pointed out. "Now, which one has the motive? Who among them is so desperate that they would be willing to step on those already lower than themselves to rise higher?"
There was only one answer. The person who was currently ranked far lower than she probably deserved to be. The one who demanded attention, even back when that wasn't the case. The one who wasn't close with anyone in class, least of all his friends. The one who looked down on him—everyone.
So, Iwao kept a close eye on Imai Kasaiki. Yoshiro-sensei always posted grades on assignments and tests for all to see, and Iwao religiously copied down each of her results. It was difficult to conceptualize how that translated to the rankings, which only officially shifted each half semester. But Iwao was still pretty sure she rose faster than her grades should have allowed her to. It was possible, likely even, that was due to the extra points she got each week from ratting on his friends.
Then, finally, he caught her in the act. She seemed to have set her eye on Nagao Takeshi, which was a bold choice. Iwao was more than civil with the boy, but he wasn't exactly in his group. He was a bit more…advanced than the crowd that flocked to Iwao. Which made it all the stranger that Kasaiki had targeted him.
They were in between periods, sitting in the hallways. Iwao was already on high alert because Kasaiki sat out with them, rather than remaining in the classroom as she normally did, and a change in routine always warranted suspicion. Takeshi-san was speaking with Asa Hifume when Kasaiki approached and sank back against the wall next to them. From the way both shinobi-in-training halted their conversation, they found it just as weird as Iwao.
"Gomen. Nagao-san, I was wondering. There is one Nagao Jun in the recently-graduated Batch fifty-eight. By chance, do you share any familial relation?"
Iwao narrowed his eyes. Takeshi-san's father was a civilian orphan who rose the ranks, something that the boy in question was very proud of. He also was an only child. Both were facts that they learned about him on day one, during their introductions. A transcript of which was still posted on the wall after all this time.
"No, no relation," Takeshi-san said.
"Ah. That's a shame. We were partners when I sat in on their Elemental Affinity class, and I wished to congratulate him on passing the exam. I was hoping you knew where he lived."
Of course, Takeshi-san didn't know. But as he said as much, Iwao noticed a calculative gleam in his eye.
"I had heard rumors you sat in on the Affinity Discovery class early," he mused. It was a bit of an open secret. "My father says I shouldn't worry about it yet, but I've always been curious about the process."
It would be uncharacteristic of Kasaiki to engage in lengthy conversation on any subject, especially one so casual as this. If she were to answer at all, her response would be short and to the point. Instead, she explained the process in detail.
"Which affinity do you hope for, Nagao-san?"
And she definitely wouldn't care about that.
"My father says I'll have a Doton affinity, like him. But I would rather have a Futon affinity, I think. It is more offensive, and uncommon."
Kasaiki hummed. "You're not wrong."
This conversation, on both sides, was wrong. No Iwa nin, in this era, at least, wanted an affinity that was weak to fire. Something else was going on here. Each of them was fishing for information, and the only one who didn't fully realize it seemed to be Takeshi-san.
"Ne, Imai-san. How can you tell what your affinity is going to be?"
"In class, you'll learn a bunch of elemental D-Ranks, and use your difficulty in performing each one as a metric."
"But that's so long from now!" He protested, and even Hifume-san next to him frowned in confusion at the uncharacteristic response.
"I hear Konoha has a better way of telling, but the bastards won't share it with the rest of the world."
"Isn't there any other way?" He pressed.
"Not to tell for sure. But you can guess fairly accurately, based on genetics."
Takeshi-san frowned. "Genetics?"
"You know. Family. If you come from a long line of Doton Affinities, you'll most likely have one too. But, for example, if you have some relatives who were native to Wind Country once upon a time, you might luck out and get that Futon affinity you want."
"So I just have to figure out if…I have relatives from Wind."
"Don't you not know anything about your grandparents, Takeshi-san?" Hifume-san pointed out.
"Oh. Right." But Iwao's classmate didn't seem crestfallen.
The conversation seemed to be over, and Iwao slunk away back into the classroom.
"Sensei?" He asked his teacher.
"Yes, Ishida-san?"
"Do you know if there was someone in Batch fifty-eight—the one that just graduated—named Nagao Jun?"
His eyes narrowed. "No, there wasn't. Why do you ask?"
Iwao kept the thrill of excitement off his face. "Someone from another class asked about him. Maybe he got the batches mixed up."
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
During their lunch break, Iwao set up an ambush. He knew that Kasaiki always showered first instead of eating with her classmates, so he waited for her, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.
When the girl rounded the corner, she paused upon seeing him. But only for a moment.
"Iwao-kun," she said in greeting, already walking past him. Iwao twitched at the familiar honorific; she had never stopped calling him that, even after their falling out. She addressed him so infrequently that it took him off guard every single time.
"Kasaiki. Wait," he ordered. She paused fully. "I have something to say to you. In there," he jerked his head towards a classroom he knew to be empty.
"I see no reason why we cannot have a conversation out here," she drawled.
He scowled. "If you want people hearing about this, fine. I'll only say it once. Rat on any of my friends again, Takeshi-san included, and I'll make you regret it."
There. He had finally done something to take the girl by surprise. The look of panic, brief as it was, was something he would relish for a long, long time.
"Who's in that room?" she asked finally.
"No one." Did she think he was going to get all his friends together to jump her?
She opened the door, eyes flirting around the empty classroom. Then, with a look over her shoulder, she entered.
"I suppose that whether or not you have proof is irrelevant," she muttered as the door closed behind her.
"Proof is for the courts," Iwao said, repeating something his father had told him once. Perception was all that really mattered.
She sighed. "You overheard our conversation."
"It was only confirmation," he sneered. "Every week, one or more of my friends lose points on their mission assignments, and the person who rats on them never comes forward. You're the only one with the ability, and the only one—" bitchy "—cold hearted enough to do that."
She pursed her lips. "Ouch. So that's why you think I'm doing it? To put myself ahead, even if I have to step on others to do it?"
"So you admit it!" he said, triumphantly.
"I thought you didn't need my admission?"
He didn't, but it still felt good.
"Look," she said. "Yes, I did figure out just about all of your group's missions at one time or another, and I reported them to Yoshiro-sensei. But I didn't get bonus points for them, and your classmates didn't lose points either."
What?
"You expect me to believe that?" Iwao asked. "I heard his rules, just like everybody else! Why would he change them for you?"
Under her clothes, Kasaiki was wrapped in bandages. From between the layers in the wrapping somewhere around her stomach, she pulled out a folded piece of paper. As she opened it up, Iwao could see her name printed on the front in Yoshiro-sensei's handwriting.
"You didn't destroy it?" Iwao asked in surprise. It was something that their sensei strongly encouraged them to do.
"No. Because I thought something like this might happen eventually."
She handed it to Iwao, who's eyes narrowed in confusion once he flipped it over. A simple message had been written on the other side.
Your mission: uncover the mission of Nagao Takeshi.
"Your mission is to report on another person's mission?" Iwao asked. He searched for any signs of forgery and came up empty.
"Yes. Just as it has been last week, and the week before that, the week before that, and every week before that, since Yoshiro-sensei assigned the very first mission. As such, I am not allowed to earn bonus points, and other students won't be penalized if I succeed."
"But why would he do that?" It didn't make any sense.
"Sensei doesn't assign these missions randomly," Kasaiki said. "The tasks he chooses are all geared towards addressing a shortcoming he has noticed in you."
That was something Iwao had guessed, but never confirmed. But he, along with everyone else presumably, had received a wide variety of missions so far. Never had he been assigned a repeat, much less twenty-something.
"What shortcoming does sensei see in you, then?"
"If you find out, please let me know first."
That was a lie. She knew; Iwao could tell. He would think heavily about that later.
"I don't think you could forge this so perfectly," he admitted.
"Do you believe me?"
"No," he said, and Kasaiki huffed in annoyance. "There's no reason for me to believe this mission is a part of a series. There's no reason for me to believe you're exempt from his conditions. And even if you are, there's no reason to believe that, if you rat on multiple people, you wouldn't earn points and penalize the person you weren't assigned."
"That's…fair, I suppose," she muttered.
"Someone is targeting my friends, and until I find otherwise, you're my prime suspect."
Kasaiki groaned with more emotion than Iwao had heard from her since they entered the academy.
"Fine. Then I guess we better find the culprit."
Iwao was so taken aback, that he almost forgot to school his expression.
"Really?"
"What choice do I have?" she asked. "If you blab about this to people, I'll either fail or lose points on every mission sensei assigns. He's not going to change what missions he gives me, even if he knows I've been found out. It'll just be one of his damned consequences."
He wasn't really sure what she meant by that last bit, but he didn't question it.
"How do you propose we do that?" He asked, and didn't like her answering grin.
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
"This is a bad idea. This is a very, very bad idea."
"Kami, Iwao. Get a grip. Don't you want to be a leader of the Red Ogres? This is exactly what they're known for."
"I'd rather be caught infiltrating a foreign village than be caught sneaking into Yoshiro-sensei's office."
"First off, no you wouldn't." Obviously, it was an exaggeration, but not as much of one as it should have been. "And second, this isn't Yoshiro-sensei's office. It's shared by all the sensei. Which is why we're going to disturb the grade books of all of them, so that they don't know which class we're a part of."
Theoretically, it was a good plan. If they so much as creased a page, Yoshiro-sensei would know someone had been there. So, rather than futilely attempting not to leave a trace, they would broaden the suspect pool exponentially. And, of course, they wouldn't do something stupid like change anything. No way that would get past him.
"How do you even know where to go?" Iwao asked his rival. It was late and there was no one here, but he still whispered.
"Another sensei showed me," she said, which raised its own questions, but Iwao didn't ask them.
They climbed up the side of the building, Kasaiki with chakra, and Iwao the old fashioned way. At several points, she had to help pull him up to handholds out of reach.
Finally, they reached the window Kasaiki swore belonged to their destination. Iwao tried to slide it open, only to find it wouldn't budge.
"It's locked," he stated the obvious.
"I would be shocked if it wasn't," she said. "Move over."
To Iwao's surprise, she produced from a pouch at her side a small scroll, which she opened and placed against the glass. An instant later, the window itself was missing out of its frame.
"Is that a sealing scroll?" Iwao asked, incredulously. "How did you get a sealing scroll?"
"Borrowed it from my brother. Now, you start looking, I'll disassemble the frame so we can put it back together on our way out. Don't touch anything until you absolutely have to, aside from the gradebooks."
She, apparently, brought tools, and used them to completely take apart the rest of the window. Remaining glass, frame, locking mechanism, everything. With a sigh that was halfway between appreciation and annoyance, he did what she asked.
The sensei didn't label each of their desks, but after some searching, he was able to deduce which batch they were assigned to. Iwao lightly disturbed each gradebook he found. He leafed through the pages to redistribute air pockets between them, and creased the spine at certain points. Sometimes, he moved the books entirely, others he flipped open, or to a different page. Soon, Kasaiki joined him, and they searched through the room in silence.
"I found it," Kasaiki finally said, and Iwao hurried over. At first, he wasn't sure how she figured that out; the desk was perfectly clear and utterly devoid of personality. But then, he saw through the gap in the drawer, the edge of a familiar red binder.
"That's his curriculum planner," she said. "His gradebook is bound in leather."
He knew what she was referring to. He just couldn't find it.
"I think he might have taken it home with him," Iwao muttered. That fucking sucked.
"I stayed late in preparation for this," she said. "I saw him leave, two hours after the end of class. He wasn't carrying anything. It has to be here." she scowled at the desk. "Check for hidden compartments."
The wood was thin, and its metal supports weren't the right shape to hide a book in. But then, Iwao checked the drawers, and discovered a hidden bottom in one.
"Nice," Kasaiki said appreciatively as he withdrew the object of their search. Iwao wasted no time searching for their quarry.
"This can't be right," Iwao muttered, staring at the mission logs. "Last week, Osaki-san reported on Uemura-san? But they're friends!"
"The week before, it appears Hatanaka-san reported on Iwai-san," she observed. "They are also close, are they not?"
Leafing through the pages, one thing became increasingly apparent. Iwao's friend group had been constantly reporting on one another, and the lost points were only rarely recovered.
"Why?" Iwao asked. "Why would they do this?"
"Is that a real question? Think about it, Iwao-kun. The lost points for their assignment are a shame, but the points earned from reporting one another are potentially far more valuable. They can be applied to any grade, after all. If one of your friends bomb a quiz, they can sacrifice a small percentage of a single grade to counter that. They probably have an arrangement with one another. They'll give a friend their mission, and let them report to Yoshiro-sensei. Then they'll be compensated for it later on, when another friend reveals to them their mission."
"Why don't they try and get back some of the points they lost then?" Iwao pointed out.
"Probably to keep Yoshiro-sensei from finding out their strategy and putting a stop to it. With the frequency they're reporting one another, it would be suspicious if every one of them got some of the points they lost back. I'd be shocked if Yoshiro-sensei hasn't figured it out yet regardless, but still."
Iwao thought about it for a moment. It made sense. The strategy was sound. But there was one thing that bothered him a lot.
"Then…why didn't they tell me?"
Iwao wasn't Yoshiro-sensei. He certainly wouldn't have ratted on them if he had known about this himself. They had to have known that, right?
"To be a Red Ogre is to live a life without trust," his father had once told him. "Every word you speak will be viewed with suspicion, even by your closest allies."
He knew that, to all of his classmates, he was the son of the Red Ogre commander first and foremost. Had they realized what that truly meant?
Kasaiki took a deep sigh. "I don't think they excluded you maliciously."
"How would you know?" Iwao said, bitterly. "You don't even talk to them."
"I don't need to," she said. "It's impossible to miss. They think the world of you, Iwao-kun. To them, you're the next coming of the Sage. I would bet a good deal of money on this. They kept their arrangement a secret because they didn't want to disappoint you. They were, on some level, ashamed that they were taking advantage of a loophole instead of being as smart or competent as you, and getting good grades the intended way."
Maybe it was the unexpected compassion from someone who usually looked at him with disdain. Maybe it was the bored, matter-of-factness of her tone. Maybe it was the message itself. But for some reason, Iwao's eyes stung.
"I wouldn't have looked down on them," he said, not really sure why. Kasaiki sure as shit didn't care.
"Then tell them that, I guess. Or let them go about their business in peace, and spare them the embarrassment. Your choice." Her eyes swept the room. "Are we cool?"
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah."
"Then let's finish up here."
As Iwao doctored his side, he noticed Kasaiki crouched over a desk that was messier than any around it.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"This desk belongs to the sensei of batch sixty-six," she said. "The class a semester older than us. It seems as if the sensei is planning something big. Guest speakers, perhaps? But no, this calendar here. They're coming on multiple days each."
Iwao looked at these papers, which seemed to be written correspondences between the sensei and multiple third parties. The name at the bottom was one he recognized.
"Mino Mai," he said. "She's the head of the Cypher Division." His father made him memorize the names of many high-ranking individuals, especially those who belonged to departments that worked closely with the Ogres. Speaking of which—
"Ashikaga-san's father is on here too," he recognized.
Kasaiki was staring at the correspondences as if they had done something to offend her. Iwao himself was curious—they seemed to cite not only specific dates, but also the subject matter of all class periods on those dates—but he didn't understand her fascination.
"What other names here do you recognize?"
There were several prominent jonin. The head of T&I. An advisor to the Tsuchikage. An ambassador. Really, there were only two names he didn't recognize.
"Tsuneo-sensei is the hospital director," Kasaiki told him, and he blinked in surprise. How did she know that?
"What about the other one?" he asked.
She considered the question for a moment. "It rings a bell. But I don't remember."
It rang a bell for Iwao too. Actually, it rang quite a few of them. The surname especially. He bet his father would know.
Kasaiki produced a paper and pen from somewhere and began copying down information.
"Could you find his gradebook?" she asked distractedly, and Iwao rolled his eyes.
"Whatever you're doing, hurry up. Infiltrations are supposed to be quick." He was still half expecting Yoshiro-sensei to bust down the door at any second. Although, Kasaiki's disruption of this particular sensei's desk might paint someone from his class as the culprit.
Nevertheless, they left unimpeded. As he climbed down the wall, he prayed that his next day in the academy wouldn't be his last.
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
Yoshiro-sensei didn't so much as mention the office invasion to his class, and he hadn't heard a whisper of it from any other classes either. As the days passed, he tentatively began to relax.
Then, Monay arrived, and their missions were graded. As Yoshiro-sensei announced them to the class, Kasaiki raised her hand.
"Sensei, my grade is incorrect."
The classroom went very, very quiet. No one accused Yoshiro-sensei of grading them incorrectly.
"And how, pray tell, have you come to that conclusion?" the man drawled.
"You have graded me without a penalty. However, I made a mistake, and Ishida-san uncovered my mission. It appears he was too kind to capitalize on it, however, so I would ask that he gains bonus points at the expense of my grade."
Their classmates' faces had changed from those of shock, to some sort of confusion. It was well-known to everybody that there was no love lost between Kasaiki and Iwao. Each of them wondered where this benevolence on both sides was coming from. Their sensei didn't seem to know what to make of it either, if his frown was any indication.
"Fine," he said, eyes sweeping to Iwao, who was just as surprised as everyone else. "I expect each of you to report your discoveries from now on, no matter what. Again, it is for your classmates' benefit. On the topic. Those who have received penalties, see me after this period if you know where you went wrong."
No one was surprised to see Kasaiki first in line upon the class' end.
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
AN: Hey y'all. Sorry for the late chapter—it just wasn't happening yesterday. As payment, here's an extra long one.
I made a mistake. Sorry about it. At some point between the planning stage and when it finally became time to write about it, I got confused and began writing as if the academy was based on a year system (incorrect) rather than a semester system (correct). This mistake has little bearing on the story before now, except in one respect. It makes the age gap between Hanabi's class and Kasaiki's class seem much smaller than it actually is. As such, I am renaming Hanabi's class (previously Batch 63) Batch 58. There are 9 semesters in between her class and Kasaiki's. I will go back and make the changes in previous chapters.
Since it can't really be intuited, and since it won't appear in text, here's what Takeshi's mission is for anyone curious. He has been tasked with figuring out who in batch sixty-five has a Futon affinity. Only problem is, this class hasn't had their elemental discovery class yet. Even they don't know what their affinities are. However, one of the students is the son of merchants originally from wind country. He was the correct choice. Kasaiki discovered Takeshi investigating members of this class, which led her to realize his mission pertained to them somehow. From other interactions she witnessed, she pieced together that it also had something to elemental affinities. By dropping that little tidbit about her time in Affinity Discovery class, she painted herself as an "expert" in the matter, which led to the clueless Takeshi all but confessing the nature of his mission to her.
Plans going forward. There will be two more chapters like this one that will cover the time skip. After that comes the graduation exam, which will span multiple chapters. It's basically this story's chunin exam, and yes, despite the age difference it will be just as intensive, action packed and traumatizing.
Check back next week for a chapter of Aimi, more on fuinjutsu and one mystery perspective. Things™ are happening.
Have a great week!