"Um, did you know we were going to have Biwa of the Fucking Dust as a sensei?" I hissed to Iwao, who by all rights should be the one least surprised by this. Our new instructor was leading us to Training Ground Four, the same one where I had my ninjutsu specialization test. It was by far the most secluded out of the Iwa training grounds, which is no doubt why Biwa-sensei chose it.

"I didn't," he muttered. "My father didn't tell me. But…I think he knew. He was very insistent that I shoot for the top spots. More than I thought was warranted. I just thought it was a status thing."

"So Yuudai was a co-conspirator," Our sensei drawled from up ahead, and we all flinched. He should not have been able to hear us from that distance at this volume. "Good to know."

His voice was extremely familiar.

"Have we met before, sensei?" I asked abruptly, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"I can't say we have," he said, boredly. "You've likely seen pictures of me."

Oh, I certainly had. I made it a point to learn the names and faces of every person of interest in Iwagakure.

"Yes," I confirmed. "But it's not your appearance. It's your voice that's familiar." And pictures, despite the idiom, couldn't speak.

He cast an eye back on me. "I don't typically interact with children unless they're related to me. I don't know when or under what circumstance I would have interacted with you."

I hummed in acknowledgement, my mind abuzz. With everything going on, this should really be the least of my concerns. But, for some reason, this was really killing me.

"Sorry this was sprung on you, sensei," I said after another minute of silent walking. "But I think you'll find this team agreeable. We're all pretty good, even if these two's personalities are for shit."

Daigo scoffed while Iwao stared disbelievingly at me, shocked that I would speak so familiarly with the Tsuchikage's son.

"You have the worst personality out of us by far, Imai," our genjutsu specialist jabbed.

"Matter of perspective," I waved him off, internally ticked. He didn't get to joke with me like he used to.

To Biwa-sensei, I said, "if you didn't know about this arrangement beforehand, I assume you don't know anything about us."

"I wouldn't say anything," he said in his oddly melodic voice. "Your former sensei has given me your names. And I can tell quite a lot about you from a glance."

"Oh?" I asked, smirking. "What would that be?"

Iwao didn't want to say anything, now that our jonin sensei demonstrated he'd be able to hear it. But with his eyes, he was beseeching me to shut the fuck up.

I ignored him. Biwa-sensei gave tired celebrity vibes. I doubt he wanted us to treat him like Iwao thought we should.

"Drowsy over there," he was referring to Daigo—my former friend did look perpetually exhausted. "Is a genjutsu type. I can tell from his posture, and the way he holds his hands. Bishōnen," I snorted at the name for Iwao, barely reigning in my hysterics. My other teammate looked mortified. "I would have guessed he was a socialite even without knowing his name. He has likely received private tutelage on a wide range of subjects throughout the years. And you," he said meeting my eye. I didn't shirk away from his attention, the light smile still on my face.

I probably should have been more nervous. I probably should have had more tact. But after my triumph over the exams, and the new sense of purpose that my talk with Kazuhiro yielded, I felt like I was on a runner's high.

"You are going to cause me a million headaches," he grunted. "I just know you will."

"Well, he's got you pegged," Iwao muttered, his cheeks aflame.

"I'll try and keep it to a minimum," I promised, ignoring my teammate and refusing to be embarrassed.

We arrived at the training ground, finding it unoccupied. If it wasn't, it probably would have been the moment its occupants saw who was leading us.

"I also know that the academy heads wouldn't saddle me with anyone who didn't deserve my attention," he said. "I know that you must have proven yourself beyond a shadow of a doubt to earn your place on my team. What were your ranks on the final exam?"

"Five," Daigo said, neutrally. His physical ability hamstrung him—obviously it still exceeded most of my batch, but it held him back from reaching the upper echelons.

"Two," Iwao said, and I mentally raised an eyebrow. The upper spots were highly contested, and I was a little impressed (and surprised) that Iwao beat out Hayato and Katsumi for the position.

"One," I finished out, my voice serene. Our sensei's face gave no indication of what he thought of that.

"Then I can expect well-roundedness from each of you. I can expect a firm grasp of basic skills in all areas," he clarified, and we all nodded. "What are your specialties?"

"Genjutsu, as you guessed," Daigo said as our sensei cued him with his gaze. "I am best geared towards mid to long-range combat, and I plan to redeem my Merits to advance that. If it pleases you."

"Sure," Biwa-sensei said, before, to our surprise, turning to Iwao and myself. "What do you think of that? Any commentary on his abilities or positioning?"

Iwao glanced in my direction, fielding the question to me. He and Daigo weren't particularly close, and the younger Hirose, like his father, was taciturn even for a ninja. I had a much better grasp on his character.

"For his age, he is rather talented in genjutsu," I allowed. "In this formation, he definitely should fill a supplementary role. I think he could have some proficiency in medical techniques if he tried, which would be valuable."

His brow furrowed at me. I had never brought that up before, nor had he ever shown an interest. Mainly, I just wanted a medic on my team, and I no longer cared about what Daigo wanted, so I didn't feel bad about planting the idea in sensei's head. I certainly didn't have what it took to perform medical ninjutsu, and I doubted Iwao did either.

"On the physical side of things, he falls quite a bit short of the two of us," I said bluntly, and his lips pursed. He didn't deny it, though.

"Very well," Biwa-sensei acknowledged. "Next?"

He seemed to be going in terms of ranking, judging from the way he turned his attention to Iwao.

"Leadership specialization," my other once-friend answered. "Though I've gained insight into many of the other specializations through comrades of mine."

Knew it. I always thought Iwao was benefitting from his friendships in one way or another, even if he did actually care about them. It wasn't in a shinobi's nature not to use all the tools they had in their arsenal.

"I can take any role you deem fit in this team," he continued. "I swear, you will not find me lacking."

Biwa-sensei grunted, looking back to me and Daigo.

"Ishida-san is a capable shinobi, and one of the most charismatic people I have ever met," Daigo said blandly. "He will be an asset in any mission that involves relations, be it with civilians or other shinobi. He is skilled with ninjutsu, and possesses a finesse with it that both of us lack."

It wasn't an inaccurate statement. My lack of external chakra control made finicky bits difficult.

"He's a little pigheaded," I offered cheerfully, and the boy gave me a glare. "Though I can certainly think of worse people to have at my back. Daigo mentioned the ninjutsu, but he's pretty good at taijutsu too. He's one of the only ones who could give me a run for my money in a fight. Even if Yoshiro-sensei made me hold back."

Iwao's eyes shot to mine.

"Hold back?" he spluttered. "You were holding back?"

Daigo's frown also widened at my words.

I rolled my eyes and turned to the rock wall that marked the training ground's entrance. Fluidly channeling chakra into most of my body (a strong blow used almost every muscle), I launched a blistering strike into a boulder. A spider web of deep cracks erupted from the point of impact, and I shook the dirt off my hand, internally pleased with the effect. I was no Tsunade, not even close, but force was force. And for my age, I could muster quite a lot of it.

"A little much for a friendly spar," I said mildly to my teammates. "Once you learn chakra enhancement, we'll fight for real."

"You know chakra enhancement," Biwa-sensei repeated. "You're our close combat specialist, then."

I shrugged. "I could be. But that's only a narrow scope of my abilities. I have a dual specialization in strategy and jutsucraft. I received instruction from Jin Toshiaki and Date Fumio. They," I gestured at Iwao and Daigo, "don't know what I'm capable of in these areas, so if you wish for an unbiased assessment, I would recommend you speak with each of them."

"Date Fumio," Biwa repeated. "You received instruction from Date Fumio."

"Hai." I hesitated for a moment. "But I wouldn't consider taijutsu, strategy or even ninjutsu to be my greatest skills. I have another proficiency. However, for legal reasons, I'm not sure I'm allowed to speak of it."

"This is an exception," Daigo said hastily, drawing Biwa-sensei's gaze. "Imai has partnered with the Hirose family to create a genjutsu counter technique. It is very useful, though no one so far is able to match the proficiency with which she wields it."

"Don't flatter yourself," I said, cutting off his explanation with a sneer. "What we created was a trifle. Sure it's useful in select conditions, but it can hardly be called my greatest skill. Please. Do you really think that you and your father were the only ones to notice my talents and seek to capitalize on them?"

That was the core of why I was so pissed off at Daigo. Because while I would never say he was nearly as bad as Gari, he was supposed to be my friend. I trusted him.

"And I'm not even remotely wary about breaking your contract," I said dismissively. "I thought I made that clear."

Iwao was looking furtively between us. He hadn't known I was making techniques for the Hirose family. He just thought we found it mutually beneficial to train together during the class periods we were excused from. However, he was actually less in the dark about this next bit than my second former friend.

"What I am wary about is my other partner," I continued. "Who is very powerful and promised grave consequences against me and my brother if I so much as mentioned the skills I developed under his…supervision."

Biwa-sensei sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And you're already proving me right."

The corner of my lips twitched upwards. "Gomen, sensei."

I wanted to tell my team about my fuinjutsu ability. If I didn't right now, it would be difficult—not to mention risky—to do so in the future. And I needed to be able to use my full range of abilities in the field.

"I can ensure you will not face consequences whilst under my leadership," he said. "Your brother. What does he do? Is he a civilian?"

"No," I answered. "Jonin. And a division captain. But his—the Sky Division—is newly formed, and the person I am concerned about heads one that is much larger, and historic."

Already, that narrowed the possibilities down to a scant few.

"Is it run by the Tsuchikage and his appointees?" he pressed.

"No."

And that brought the list down to two. Outside of the Explosion Corps, the only historic division run by a clan was the Niwa controlled Sensory Division.

"My worry is that my previous associate will use his resources and political power to ruin my brother's division, possibly by disrupting funding, headhunting staff, stonewalling political initiatives or through means that I cannot comprehend," I stated.

"Then I'll speak to the Tsuchikage," Biwa-sensei said, and I crowed internally. "I've heard of the Sky Division. As its premise is the recreation of one of his own abilities, I imagine he has a personal stake in its continued success. Any undue resistance it faces will be investigated by the Red Ogres. Is that satisfactory?"

"Hai." A shit eating grin stretched over my face. I would have to recommend that Kazuhiro takes this opportunity to ask for more resources to aid in his division's growth. He was always so worried when it came time to submit requests for stuff. If he knew that the Tsuchikage was personally invested, some of that worry might be eased. And, though I wouldn't tell him this part, if any opposition to him would be investigated, I would imagine things would flow much more smoothly for the Sky Division on the back end as well.

"In that case, I'm pretty decent at fuinjutsu."

If anything, Biwa-sensei's face lost even more expression.

"Fuinjutsu, huh?" he said, slowly. He could read between the lines. Sealing was already a rare skill, and the fact that I was poached by a historic division was telling in and of itself. "That's…interesting."

"Sealing and jutsucraft. That's where my passions lie," I explained. Really, they went hand in hand. "But I'm not passive enough to sit behind a desk like Date-shishō, and that was never an option for me anyway."

He considered me for a moment, brow drawn tight. Then, "care for a demonstration?"

My grin sharpened. "I have been holding this in for over half a decade. Nothing would please me more. And I have just the thing to help you and the rest of us as a new team."

There was a puff of smoke as I activated the fuinjutsu supplies slot in my inventory, and a chest appeared out of thin air. I caught it with practiced ease before it could fall to the ground. From it, I took a small metal case that contained seven cloth patches, embroidered with ink-dyed thread. I discovered the process myself, wanting to create a surface for my seals that was more flexible and durable than paper. However, ink tended to disperse when put to cloth, so simply writing on it was difficult and imprecise. I have no idea how those Suna nin do it. Special cloth, perhaps?

"First, a little background," I said. "In a person's body, there are three-hundred and sixty-one tenketsu. However, out of all those, there are eight that are special. They are referred to as the Eight Gates. It is the height of stupidity to tamper with them in any way. But these seals measure the amount of chakra held in each of them."

"To what end?" Biwa-sensei asked.

"The eight gates are special for a reason," I said. "They regulate specific chakra functions. By quantifying the amount of chakra held in each of these gates, I can tell how well these functions are, well, functioning. And by extension, I can, to be put simply, discern a person's strengths and weaknesses. It's limited as of yet, but there will be studies, and by the end of them we'll likely be able to interpret the results more effectively so that we may learn more from the data that it collects."

"You created this?" Biwa-sensei said, cautiously stepping forward to regard the pieces of cloth in my hand.

"It was a joint effort," I explained. "Between me and my friend, Maichi Aimi, under the guidance of her Shishō. Hamamoto Atsuchi."

His eyes darted up to mine. "You sure know how to drop names."

"Just trying to reassure you, sensei," I said, truthfully. If he was impressed, that would just be an added bonus. "I know better than anyone how dangerous fuijutsu can be. You would be right to be wary of anything I made without qualified supervision."

From the metal container, I pulled out another thing. A neatly-folded note from Iwa's one officially-recognized seal master, vouching for my creation's safety. It was signed, and bore the stamped crest of his office. A forgery would be recognized, and penalized severely.

"And you're thorough," he grumbled.

"I am a ninja," I said. "Do you wish to see where we all stand?"

"Sure," he decided, and I nodded, setting to work. With practiced ease, I slipped the pieces of fabric between the folds of my bandages, setting them to rest on the appropriate spots. Observe had come a long way in the last two years. Before, it was a single, massive sheet that the subject had to lay upon. Since then, I'd gotten far better at forging communication between seals, resulting in a system of seven patches that could be placed over their respective Gates (I still hadn't found any use in measuring what was in the Gate of Death). They would quantify the chakra in each of them individually, sending their findings to another card to be interpreted.

I showed them said card, explaining to them the function of each gate, and by extension what the shown stats represented. I impressed upon them that the numbers didn't reflect their exact limits, just how much chakra was supplementing each organ (which was a more round-about indicator of potential). I also explained Hikari—the standardized measurement of chakra I created. Then, I activated the seals, showing them the data it collected on me.

Kaimon (Logic): 33.47

Kyūmon (Creativity): 38.16

Seimon (Vitality): 29.3

Shōmon (Chakra Affinity): 25.85

Tomon (Strength): 29.77

Keimon (Chakra Capacity): 129.63

Kyōmon (Speed): 32.92

"I have no reference for these numbers," Biwa-sensei stated. "Good or bad, I wouldn't know."

"Unfortunately, we don't have a large sample," I said. "But from Aimi's and Hamamoto-sama's tests, we have some baselines for genin, chunin and jonin. It's a work in progress, which will have to be refined considerably. But efforts to do so will start soon. Apparently, this assessment will become mandatory for all of the shinobi forces eventually, though what background they will be given on the purpose of the exam and whether or not their results will be revealed to them…I'm not sure yet. What they are told will likely be decided by rank. But here's what we have now."

Kaimon (Logic) ~ Genin: 16-28 ~ Chunin: 30-42 ~ Jonin: 53-86

Kyūmon (Creativity) ~ Genin: 14-27 ~ Chunin: 28-38 ~ Jonin: 47-89

Seimon (Vitality) ~ Genin: 18-34 ~ Chunin: 36-55 ~ Jonin: 69-108

Shōmon (Chakra Affinity) ~ Genin: 8-19 ~ Chunin: 17-42 ~ Jonin: 45-89

Tomon (Strength) ~ Genin: 17-36 ~ Chunin: 33-57 ~ Jonin: 66-137

Keimon (Chakra Capacity) ~ Genin: 44-82 ~ Chunin: 74-177 ~ Jonin: 180-268

Kyōmon (Speed) ~ Genin: 15-33 ~ Chunin: 37-59 ~ Jonin: 71-165

I found that data fascinating. It really highlighted the difference between ranks.

"So supposedly, according to these numbers, you are within chunin level in several respects," Biwa-sensei said. His tone clearly gave his thoughts on the matter.

"No," I immediately disagreed. "According to these numbers, my chakra supplements these gates to a degree most commonly found in chunin. I don't pretend to be chunin level in any distinction. Except perhaps chakra capacity. I have been…very intentional in increasing it

to my utmost ability."

I also wasn't sure how much of this information I could trust when it was applied to myself. I had screwed with my internals so much for so long that the numbers could be inflated or otherwise misleading. Really, for me, it was only productive to compare my own numbers to what they used to be, and simply measure my own improvement without referencing anyone else's.

He grunted. "Well, the seals haven't blown up. And the results are…enlightening, I suppose. Even if I don't fully understand how."

"Chakra enhances the functionality of the gate," I said succinctly, without jargon. "And functionality of the gate conversely influences how much chakra it needs, and how much chakra the body allocates to it. There is a hidden level of abstraction—for example, the Kaimon and the Kyūmon are tied to mental ability, but having high levels in each of them doesn't necessarily make one smarter. It just means they use those centers of their brain more than most, for better or worse. Each gate has their own quirks, but my seals still give valuable insight."

"…right. Well, who's next?"

Iwao was. I placed the seals in the appropriate location (glad I made it so that they worked over clothes).

"Why aren't they falling off?" He asked, weirded out. It was obvious with me—my bandages kept them securely in place. But I hadn't needed to wedge them underneath; it was merely habit. Earlier iterations didn't have the sticking function.

"It employs chakra sticking," I said distractedly, looking at my card. "Alright. Got it."

Here's what Iwao's stats read:

Kaimon ~ (Logic): 32.85

Kyūmon (Creativity): 30.74

Seimon (Vitality): 33.93

Shōmon (Chakra Affinity): 20.02

Tomon (Strength): 37.72

Keimon (Chakra Capacity): 69.23

Kyōmon (Speed): 33.11

"My physical side surpasses yours," Iwao said, seemingly satisfied with that.

"Anyone could have known that just from looking at us," I quipped. "Although, these numbers don't reflect what we are able to achieve with active chakra enhancement."

That shut him up. He couldn't boast superiority over anything else. Though, frankly, for a newly-minted genin, his stats were more than impressive. Too bad they weren't impressive enough to keep me from feeding his inferiority complex. But I had long since given up on that front.

Daigo came next.

Kaimon ~ (Logic): 38.77

Kyūmon (Creativity): 34.38

Seimon (Vitality): 21.24

Shōmon (Chakra Affinity): 16.85

Tomon (Strength): 20.05

Keimon (Chakra Capacity): 47.11

Kyōmon (Speed): 24.56

"You're a freak, Imai," he said, impassively. He wasn't as insecure as Iwao, but in front of Tsuchibokori no Biwa, even he was self-conscious. If I wasn't still royally pissed at him, I might have felt bad.

Although I had to admit, those intelligence scores were formidable. They even exceed my own, in the case of Kaimon.

"What about you, sensei?" I asked neutrally, dying of curiosity. He snorted.

"As if I'm letting that information see the light of day. I'll use the seal in private another time."

Disappointing, though not unexpected. But seriously, where have I heard that voice before?

"I'll admit, I am…intrigued by the prospect of having someone knowledgeable about fuinjutsu on my squad," Biwa-sensei said. "We have never been successful at utilizing seals in the field. Not like Konoha, or even Suna. I'm curious about the combat applications."

Realization hit me like a bolt of lightning, the moment the word Konoha fell from his lips. That was it!

"You were the one who took me back to Iwa!" I said, excitedly. "That's why I recognized your voice!"

All those years ago, so soon after transmigrating to this world. The fire, the smoke, the goats. I remembered all those things. And that voice. That out of place, melodic voice.

"Took you back to Iwa?" he repeated. "I don't remember that. Why were you away to begin with?"

"I was born outside of the village," I explained. "In Fugatoro. When Konoha killed my parents and burned the place down, you and some others came and rescued me."

"Fugatoro," he repeated, his eyes flashing. "There was only one survivor that we found. And she was incredibly young."

"Yeah, that was me! I was only a month old or so."

He must have realized that my age matched up. Still, "then how the hell do you remember that?"

"I had developed awareness by then," I revealed. "And that night…left an impression."

Everybody was staring at me with varying degrees of disbelief.

"...anyway," I said, embarrassed. "Thanks for saving me back then. If you were any later, I might have choked to death on the smoke. As it was, I got away with only some burns and some scarring on my vocal chords."

My raspy voice—which made it hard for some people to hear me at low volumes—was a testament to that.

"You were a child of Iwa, even if you didn't grow up in the village," he said, after a moment. "Your parents. They were shinobi?"

"Yeah. Disabled jonin, stationed there."

I wasn't about to explain the whole shitstorm that was Imai Hisashi.

"Then you really don't have to thank me." He took several steps back, seeming anxious to change the subject. Like most shinobi, he probably didn't know how to react to sappy stuff. "Now. You are quite familiar with one another, and despite Imai's fuinjutsu and my own deductions, I have yet to see you in action. As a little test, I'll have you all attack me at once. Work together to land a blow on me, and do not hold back."

There was no, but sensei, what if we hurt you? This wasn't Konoha, and we weren't as naïve as canon Sakura.

"Strategist?" Iwao grumbled to me, and I turned my back to our sensei, forming signs with my hands to communicate nonverbally. Elite jonin or not, Biwa-sensei couldn't see through solid objects. He wasn't a Hyuga.

Daigo nodded sharply at my words, quote unquote, and Iwao sighed.

"Fine. Seems wasteful, though."

"Not to me," I said, gesturing him closer. With my body blocking Sensei's line of sight, I passed him a small stack of papers taken from my inventory. He discreetly deposited them into his weapons pouch and promptly dove underground. The ready, set, go expectation had been thoroughly beaten out of us in the academy.

Without warning, I shot towards Biwa-sensei, fist cocked back for an intentionally telegraphed punch. Meanwhile, Daigo immediately began flying through hand seals at an impressive speed, but I didn't have time to worry about my teammates. With fervor, I enhanced my entire body to the max as I engaged the man in taijutsu.

Nothing landed. Nothing came close to landing. And he didn't block either; every strike I launched was avoided easily. Contemptuously.

"I will admit," he said, breathing easily despite how I struggled against him. "Your speed and strength is far better than I would expect out of a fresh genin. You seem to be talented with chakra enhancement. But how complete is it?"

Then he flickered, appearing inside my guard instantly. With a light push, I was sent flying.

I bounced across the dirt like a skipped stone over a river. Though battered, I recovered, coming to a full stop by rolling into a crouch and sticking myself to the ground. The amount of force it took to resist the outrageous amount of momentum left me staggering despite how I rooted myself in place. I panted, not making an immediate move as I tried to ignore all the friction burns.

"Pretty complete," he answered his own question, seeing how little damage I actually took from that. "So many people only focus on the offensive part of the technique, neglecting the defensive side."

"Most people are idiots," I said, forcing my breathing to steady. "Chakra enhancement has always come easy to me. Internal chakra control is my strong suit. I've been honing it since long before I started at the academy."

I wasn't sure if he was actually paying attention to my words. He was looking back at Daigo, still running through sequences of hand seals.

"Well, that's annoying," he muttered, and I could empathize. Daigo was the dictionary definition of annoying, but that never rang as true as when he started laying down zone-type genjutsu.

There were three different targeting methods for genjutsu. You could directly affect the mind of a single person. You could directly affect the mind of multiple (which was more difficult, both in regards to casting and maintaining the illusion convincingly). Or finally, you could create genjutsu zones, which affected everything within a (usually small) bubble.

What you could do with genjutsu zones was far more limited. You couldn't weave complex or directed illusions and expect them to stick, but you could, for example, disrupt the sense of balance of whoever wandered inside, or make them think that the ground was littered with bodies. Zone genjutsu could be dispelled just as easily, but their major strength was that, so long as the target remained within the zone, the illusions they conjured would always come back the moment the target stopped manipulating their chakra. Far less subtle, but far more persistent. That was the tradeoff.

I wasn't sure which jutsu Daigo was casting. I just knew that there were a lot of them. He was layering zone after zone on Biwa-sensei, and they also likely had different release requirements (genjutsu anti-release techniques could be built into genjutsu zones—though they couldn't be actively modified, they could require the targets chakra to move at an unusual speed or be halted at an irregular intervals in order for them to break the illusion). Sooner rather than later, our sensei would (should) find it difficult to keep them all straight.

Genjutsu was so fucking complicated. I have no idea how people like the Hiroses mastered the art.

Of course, as we just learned, Daigo's chakra reserves weren't exactly formidable. Not by this teams' standards. He would reach his limit soon enough. Though it didn't seem like Biwa-sensei was going to wait for that.

Stealing myself, I dove back into the fight as soon as he made a threatening step towards my teammate. I struck with more ferocity, opening with a flying knee that he just straight up caught in one hand. Unlike what I remembered about him (at a month old) he wasn't actually all that big. Not even approaching six feet tall, I think (though substantially larger than his father). But I was still only ten, so he held a significant height advantage nonetheless.

"His genjutsu aren't affecting you," Biwa-sensei mused as I brought both fists down on the hand that grabbed my knee. He let go, but not because I made him. "But genjutsu zones are indiscriminate."

"I've been…training with Daigo…for a long time," I said between grunts of exertion as I spun into a strong side kick which he dodged by stepping at a diagonal. It placed him within my guard, but he made no move to capitalize on that. I changed up my footstance and hit him with a pop-up roundhouse he twitched out the way of.

"That technique…he mentioned. Keeps his illusions from latching on."

In using it, I also had to suffer through a splitting headache. But I was quite used to that by now.

He hummed in consideration, his eyes dipping towards the ground before flicking to the side. With ease, he caught the three kunai flung towards him by poking fingers through the rings on their hilts. As they jangled uselessly in his light grasp, he looked at Iwao, who had surfaced far away, outside of Daigo's zone.

"Finished with your arena prep?" Biwa-sensei asked. It wasn't a difficult conclusion to reach.

Iwao glanced at me, and I nodded. He answered with a single hand seal, and the earth rumbled. As the ground underneath Biwa-sensei's feet began to shatter, thick plumes of gray smoke leaked from under it, and both Iwao and I shot in opposite directions, peppering the jonin with shuriken after shuriken. I threw at a much faster rate—the weapons appearing in small puffs of smoke from my inventory ports on both hands. Iwao had to grab each one from the storage seal imprinted on the inside of his pouch.

My special smoke rose from the ground, and it was soon difficult to see our target. Not that we needed to; we just had to keep him within the zone. Between Iwao's trap and Daigo's support, we were layering disorientation after disorientation on the man. And he wouldn't escape into the ground, not with the next stage that he no doubt sensed.

"Okay, this is getting annoying," came the measured voice, and then we felt a great pressure. A ring of what I could only assume was wind burst out from Biwa-sensei, blasting both Iwao and myself with a brief puff of smoke that stung our eyes. But my seals underground were still going, so that only dispersed what was already in the air.

A moment later, he solved that problem as well. Placing both palms on the ground, without even using a single fucking handsign, he imposed his dominion over the earth. Through sheer force of will and a baffling level of pure elemental manipulation, the cracks sealed, stifling the smoke.

"Go ahead," he drawled, fixing us each with a stare. "Do your worst."

"You asked for it, sensei," I said, grinning despite myself. Iwao keyed the tags I gave him to his own chakra, which was something you could do with fuinjutsu so long as it possessed a neutralization matrix. Only he could activate them, and on my signal, he did.

There was another rumble below us as the explosion tags went off. This was why Iwao needed to be the one to place them; these were far closer to the surface, and with an opponent of this caliber, I wouldn't be able to get near enough without putting myself in harm's way. Iwao was far better with external chakra control, so he, from deeper underground, softened the earth from a greater distance and manipulated the Moguragakure to send the tags upwards.

Five paper bombs exploded directly underneath Biwa-sensei, who's hands never left the ground. And like he was suffocating a person to death with a pillow, he just smothered them. Five paper bombs! And the only indication that it even fazed him was the strain of his formidable arm muscles against the earth, as if he was holding it together through sheer physical strength.

"Okay, well that's just hacks," I protested, not that they knew what I meant by that. But seriously! That wasn't even a jutsu! That was just straight up avatar-style earth bending!

I wanted it.

But despite the unfairness, I grinned. I'd been waiting forever to say these next few words. And to Ohnoki's son? I would treasure this forever.

"Well then," I said. "What will you do about the second one, Biwa-sensei?"

Iwao had never dropped his hand seal, and now he pulsed chakra through it again. More bombs went off, but not directly underneath. A circle of tags, far enough away that they were at the periphery of the jonin's control but not so far away that they were useless, exploded, sending rock fragments and dirt high into the air. This was the end game, and I hadn't even explained to my teammates what my next and final step was.

A wad of exploding tags appeared out of my inventory as I started flipping through signs for my detached Kawarimi at blistering speeds. One by one they disappeared, replaced with the falling rubble over Biwa-sensei's head.

Shambles.

I couldn't select which piece was swapped; whichever one my tether latched onto functionally became an explosive. And before the first one even went off, there were five more behind it, primed. Overkill, for sure.

But through the falling debris, I saw Biwa-sensei stand up. I had been practicing my hand seals since my fingers first gained dexterity, but the speed with which he flipped through his own now made me look downright arthritic in comparison. His hands pulled apart, and between them, a white cube stretched like taffy.

In the blink of an eye, it encompassed a frankly ludicrous amount of space above him. And, just like that, everything was gone. Vanished. Reduced to atoms. Rocks, dirt, tags, all of it.

The anime didn't do the Dust Release justice. It was breathtaking.

"Alright, let's call it quits," Biwa-sensei said, not even panting. All of us certainly were, even Daigo who had barely moved. Using chakra still counted as physical exertion. "That was an adequate showing."

"Adequate?" I asked in mock outrage. I very intentionally let the jest show on my face. "We forced you to use Particle Style!"

"You didn't force me to use Particle Style," he deadpanned. "I chose to use Particle Style. You do know that I have a wind affinity, don't you? It would have been far easier and far less chakra intensive to simply blow those tags away. But with both you and Ishida surrounding me, doing so would have likely injured you. So, you're welcome for my restraint."

"I knew you wouldn't do that," I said. "It's one reason I had us both surround you." Behind sensei, Iwao gave me the stink eye. "That expectation was built into the trap."

"Then you're an idiot," he said, bluntly. "You don't know me well enough to bank on that. Case and point. I almost did use a wind jutsu. Just to teach you a lesson. I just decided that dragging you to the hospital wouldn't be worth the hassle."

Yep, this wasn't Konoha, and Biwa-sensei wasn't Kakashi. My life was almost starting to align with the story of Naruto, structure wise, so my excitement left me a little short-sighted.

"Ah," I said, sheepishly rubbing the back of my head as Iwao's glare grew even frostier. "Gomen, Iwao-kun. And thanks, sensei, for not blowing us up. If I got sent to the hospital with another explosion tag-related injury, I don't even know what the doctors would do."

Daigo slapped his hand to his face so hard that it was audible.

"But it looks like the Tsuchikage was right in forcing you to become a sensei," I continued. "First hour into our team's formation, and you're already teaching me stuff."

He just stared at me, a look of near constipation on his face. Cautiously, Iwao sidled up next to him.

"You'll learn to ignore her," he said, apologetically, and our sensei sighed.

"I'm starting to think that ignoring her will be just as dangerous," he muttered. He looked up at the descending sun. It was an hour past noon.

"We'll set out on our first mission tomorrow," he revealed. "I will choose one that takes us outside of the village. During the time it takes for us to reach our destination, we will need some projects to keep you occupied. To that end, we will go to the archives now. Any objections?"

If either of my teammates spoke up to the contrary, I would literally rip their heads off. Luckily, they seemed just as excited as I was, even if they tried not to show it.

"I thought not," he drawled. "Follow me."

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: First chapter with the new title! I'm very curious to see how that will influence analytics.

I know people don't like padding the word count with stats. I promise, I won't do it egregiously. It was necessary in this instance. And I made it a considerably longer chapter to make up for it.

I should have said so in the last chapter. Tsuchibokori is one way of saying dust. Specifically, dust that comes from the earth. I thought this word for dust would be most appropriate for his moniker.

I was very excited for this chapter. I'm even more excited for the next.

See you next week!