"Yep," I muttered to my teammates, as we walked past the group of six, dazed genin before us. "This has definitely gotten old."
"I thought you liked attention," Iwao jabbed, his words lacking heat. He was perturbed as well.
"Would you shut the fuck up? I've told you a million times. I don't enjoy attention. I enjoy recognition. Yeah, I earned my top spot. But it was luck of the draw that Biwa-sensei was assigned a team from our year. That's why we have all these bozos hassling us lately. We earned a jonin sensei, but that's it. We didn't earn fucking Biwa of the Dust as a sensei. So this harassment is plain fucking annoying."
Six months had passed since our first "C-Rank." We hadn't taken a client mission since then, though we had spent most of that time outside of the village. Biwa-sensei took us on routine patrol assignments, giving us practical experience in areas that we'd only discussed in a theoretical capacity.
Through them, I've seen quite a bit of Earth country, as well as Grass, which was far more valuable. As allies, they let us in readily, and I was eager to get a lay of the land when said land would likely be the site of some of the most important battles I would ever partake in.
We were out of the village often, so it was easy to keep our team's existence on the DL. But that couldn't—didn't—last forever. Someone who wasn't as discrete as the shinobi administrators got wind that Tsuchibokori no Biwa had taken a genin team. And everyone lost their shit.
I'd never really wanted to be a celebrity. I never daydreamed about it in my past life, but my disdain wasn't so high that I'd been necessarily opposed to it, if it were to somehow happen. I should have been, though. This sucked donkey nuts.
Out of the three of us, Iwao was the only person comfortable with this kind of attention. He took to it like a fish in water, smiling and waving to those that called out to us like he was a fucking princess (I really wanted to call him that to his face when he was being annoying, but I refrained because I was trying to repair my relationship with him). He had chided me on multiple occasions for scowling so heavily at any stranger who approached, and I made half-hearted attempts to fix my attitude, again for the aforementioned reason. However, I found abiding his wishes exceedingly difficult.
That being said, I fared much better with the attention than Daigo. That poor kid. As a genjutsu master in training, it had been hammered into him that attention equaled death, so every stare and whisper we suffered made him viscerally uncomfortable.
But he came in handy often, whenever Genin Corps flunkies tried to challenge us for our spot on Team Tsuchibokori. Why did they think it worked like that? Well, unfortunately, there was a precedent. Several asshole jonin had publicly offered such an arrangement before, as some means to light a fire under their students. As far as I knew, no genin's spot had ever been taken in such a manner, but that didn't matter to the flunkies. Just like it didn't matter that Biwa-sensei never stated that he would abide by such rules and take them on for defeating us. Stupid people were stupid.
This was the third time it's happened. After the first (which ended in a brawl that the Ogres had to get involved in), Daigo apparently pleaded with his dad to teach him his first area of effect genjutsu, capable of pacifying any aggressors until we were far out of view. Both Iwao and I considered his mastery of it so urgent that we dropped every project we were working on just to help him. Which in itself spoke volumes.
"So, how do we earn it in their eyes?" Daigo asked, quietly. He was grasping at straws, desperately looking for an end to this nightmare. Unfortunately, if we did what I postulated, I doubted we'd receive any less attention for it.
"Who gives a fuck what they think?" I muttered. "That was just an explanation, not a suggestion that we do anything about it. All I care about is earning it in my own eyes. And that will come at its own pace."
"There's the jaded girl we've known all these years," Iwao muttered. "You've been out of character for months. It was giving me the creeps."
"Shut up." My eyes flickered over the buildings, noting that we were straying towards the upper-class residential district. "Where are we going, again? I thought we were grabbing dinner?"
Team Tsuchibokori was slowly getting closer. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. It was something that I'd theoretically wanted to happen on principle, just for the sake of my Naruto fantasies. But then our personalities shone through, and I began to second-guess whether putting in the effort was worth it.
Iwao, while charismatic and friendly with others, turned into a moody bitch whenever he had to interact with me, and Daigo didn't engage me in banter like he once did. He instead utilized the common strategy favored by men when dealing with a woman's fury; he turned to a doormat and let me do or say anything to him without complaint. Which was annoying, but, if I were to be honest with myself, I would probably be nearly as pissed if he went back to normal.
I wasn't sure what he'd need to do for me to forgive him entirely, but I expected him to try in some meaningful way. Currently, he wasn't. His actions didn't show any effort, and that was what kept him on my shit list.
Nevertheless, I acquiesced when he suggested a tradition. Whenever we returned from a mission, we got a single day of true break, after which we'd stay in the village for an indeterminate amount of time until Biwa-sensei decided it was time for another. So, after our first team training post-break, we got dinner together. It wasn't quite a social thing; instead it was framed as a debriefing. A means to better absorb whatever information Biwa-sensei had crammed into us over the last week or several.
But we usually went to restaurants. And I didn't think there were any around here.
"We are," Iwao said stiffly. "I'm hosting."
I raised an eyebrow. "Because of all the attention?"
With the attention we'd garnered recently, it was getting steadily more difficult to enjoy privacy. But it was all ignorable. We never discussed anything sensitive that could bring trouble if overheard.
"No," he replied. "Because we're likely going to be sent out again soon, and this is the only time this month they could guarantee we'd be in the village."
That did make sense. Our schedule was essentially based around sensei's whims. Sometimes he'd give us weeks in between missions, sometimes mere days.
"What's so special about this month?" I asked, and he shot me a look.
"Your birthday is in it, moron."
I recoiled. "I mean, yeah, duh." I wasn't that much of a cliché that I forgot my own birthday. "But why am I going to your house to celebrate my birthday?"
"Our fathers—your brother—set this up," he explained. "Apparently they've gotten relatively close lately. It was sprung on me as well."
That was…interesting. Kazuhiro knew Hirose senior, but this wasn't like my old world, where parents became friends just because their kids hung out together (he also knew we had a falling out, though I hadn't shared the details because the subject matter was kind of serious and I didn't want him fighting my battles for me). And I don't think he'd even interacted with Iwao's father since we were both babies.
"That doesn't really explain why the party or whatever is at your house," I pointed out.
"Because it's nicest, and Sensei was invited," he answered, and I pursed my lips as I suddenly understood what this was all about. It being my birthday was merely a convenient excuse.
"Yep," Iwao said, popping the P. "My thoughts exactly."
"That's kind of rude," Daigo muttered, frowning as he cast me a glance.
"No, it's fine," I said. "If it helps nii-san, it's fine. In fact, I would have been displeased with him if he didn't take advantage of this opportunity. I've never cared much for my birthday anyway."
I didn't even know exactly when it was in this world. Kazuhiro only learned of my birth well after the fact, and my inseminator was vague on the when's of it all in his correspondence. We were pretty sure I was born in April, so my brother decided to officially mark my date of birth in Iwagakure's records smack dab in the middle. April sixteenth.
(My old body's birthday was June 18th. That day, I would hold a silent, private vigil. It was the one day a year I allowed myself to lose myself entirely in my memories of another world. Healthy, am I right?)
"So? Is he coming?" I asked.
"He said he would when I handed him the invitation," Iwao said, and I nodded in satisfaction. I would be annoyed to go through this if Kazuhiro wasn't even going to get anything out of it.
Surreptitiously, I looked down at my clothes, checking to see if there were any noticeable stains. Biwa-sensei gave us a light day, physically, since we just got back from a mission. It was mostly just jutsu work, and the weather was still cool enough that we weren't inordinately sweaty. But still, going straight to this party from training struck me as odd.
"I'm not as versed in politics as either of you," I began. "But shouldn't we change into something more appropriate first? Something more…formal?"
"It's informal by design," Iwao answered. "This is the first time that our parents have interacted with sensei in this capacity—if yours has even interacted with him in any capacity at all. They're setting the tone for their potential relationship."
That made sense. They wanted sensei to see them more as friends than associates. A more formal dress might detract from that image.
"Well, I'm certainly not complaining," I muttered. This world's formal attire was entirely too restricting. It stressed me out just wearing it, though I hadn't had many occasions that forced me to in the past. The one big upside to not being part of a clan, or any other family of note.
We walked in silence to our destination, and reached it soon. It had been a long time since I'd been to Iwao's house, but it was exactly how I remembered it. There was a moderately large tower, similar in size and shape to those around it. What really made it stand out was the sizable yard, walled off with stone. Inside, there were even trees—small things that looked juvenile but weren't. Trees didn't grow well in this environment; these were only a couple feet taller than Kazuhiro, and with chakra enhancement, I could likely break their trunks at their thickest points.
The gate was open, and Iwao led us through to the gravel path beyond without ceremony. I could hear chatter behind the door, but it ceased when Iwao rapped his knuckles against the wood in warning. He didn't wait to open it, and there was a cry of "surprise" from behind. I guess Iwao wasn't actually supposed to tell me this was happening.
But I was a ninja. I could pretend.
"Oh my goodness," I said, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. A large grin on my face to offset my words. "You all are ridiculous."
"Happy eleventh birthday, imouto!" Kazuhiro exclaimed, wrapping me in a big, mushy hug that lifted me off the ground. Akane-obasan was a step behind him, but she couldn't get me airborne anymore. The tears in her eyes and the accompanying "you've grown up so fast!" proved that wasn't lost on her.
Only one person greeted me nearly as enthusiastically. A dark haired girl even smaller than I was barreled into my stomach with a distinctly un-shinobi-like squeal, and I chuckled as I pressed her head into my stomach.
"Hi, Aimi-chan!" I greeted warmly. "It's been a while. What did you have to bribe your shishō with to give you the night off?"
"That wasn't so hard," she said dismissively. "The hard part was getting him to come along with me."
I raised an eyebrow at that, and looked over his head. Sure enough, next to Iwao's and Daigo's parents, stood the giant form of Hamamoto Atsuchi. He gave me a smile and a wave, which I returned with a bowed head. It was a big deal that he had left the Tsuchikage's palace; I should be honored. But I didn't care that he was here for me. I cared that this gave him an excuse to see his mother. That was probably one of the best gifts I'd receive tonight.
They were the only people attending that were unrelated to Team Tsuchibokori. Both of Iwao's parents were here (obviously—it was their house). Ishida Yuudai greeted me with a pleasant smile, and holy shit. His son was looking more and more like him with every day that passed. One day, they'd be identical.
Meanwhile, his wife, Ishida Rika, greeted me warmly, with a hug. I'd interacted with her far more than the Ogre commander, albeit not since I was a much younger child. She valued my friendship with her son back when that was still a thing, and I had a feeling she was distraught when Iwao severed our ties. Iwao was never as sensitive about my interaction with his mother as he was with his father; likely because she was always home and he saw her every day.
I sincerely thanked the Ishidas for hosting, as was polite, and moved on to the Hiroses. I stiffly greeted Hirose Akikazu, who returned it with a solemn nod, not even a ghost of a smile on his face. His wife, Hirose Kazumi was more polite. I had interacted with her quite a bit because, like Rika, she was a stay at home wife, and I visited the Hirose residence with moderate frequency during my time in the academy.
She wasn't what I expected, all those years ago. From Akikazu's personality, I expected him to choose a distastefully (to me) submissive wife. However, she was tall, stern, and carried herself with a degree of pride I rarely saw in civilians. She impressed me, and I think the feeling was mutual. She had a small, almost-smile on her face, despite my as of late less than savory dealings with her husband.
Daigo's father would probably never forgive me for submitting the research I developed to R&D. However, my teammate kept his promise, and somehow convinced him not to take legal action for it. I couldn't even pretend to regret it, not when it netted me one B-rank Merit, plus two C-ranks (I thought it was worth more, personally, but the technique's difficulty in learning led Iwagakure to disagree). Those C-ranks went towards purchasing Doton: Iwadeppō no Jutsu (Earth Style: Stone Pistol Technique), and Ninpo: Shunshin no Jutsu (Ninja Art: Body Flicker Technique), granting me a grand total of four plus whatever variations I made. I'd save the B (and the A from our first mission) for when I reached a higher rank.
Thoughts for another day. For now, I had a party to get through.
"Is your sensei not coming?" Kazuhiro said, his happy tone disguising any true disappointment.
"Don't worry, he told Iwao-kun he'd show up," I told him. "He probably just has some errands to run first."
He nodded, a tad sheepishly, leaning in to whisper to me whilst moving his lips as little as possible. "Sorry, imouto. I don't care about…that, as much as Ishida-san and Hirose-san. I mainly just want to meet the man who I entrust with the life of my precious little sister."
I made a face at that, but inwardly I believed him.
"Well, in case it needs stating," I told him. "I give you permission—and encourage you, as a matter of fact—to use my connection to Biwa-sensei for your own benefit and for the benefit of your division. Just don't expect your intentions to go unnoticed. Biwa-sensei is as shrewd as it gets."
He patted my head with a smile.
"I hope you're hungry," he said at normal volume, changing the subject. As he stepped to the side in an exaggerated grand reveal, I saw that the ordinary dining room table I had eaten at several times in the distant past had been removed. In its place was a U-shaped bar setup, with a flame grill at the center manned by a bona fide chef. Both of my eyebrows shot up, and he chuckled.
"That was my reaction too. I didn't know that you could even rent out a personal Yakiniku setup, but Ishida-san has his ways."
Man. Can't wait until I'm rich.
"It looks incredible," I told them all, but especially Iwao's family. "I love yakiniku."
"Your brother mentioned," Yuudai said with a smile. "Now, from past interactions, I believe that your sensei would be displeased if we waited for him. And I'm sure you've worked up quite an appetite during training. Let us enjoy Hano-san's efforts, and celebrate your eleventh birthday."
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
Biwa-sensei didn't show up for dinner. It wasn't until well after we finished stuffing ourselves with grilled meats and vegetables that he arrived, which was great timing, because we were beginning to run out of conversation.
The affair so far hadn't been nearly as awkward as I anticipated it being; Ishida-san and Kazuhiro carried most of the conversation, and both were personable enough to ease the stiffness everyone else felt.
I found myself smiling as my brother spoke. He had grown up a lot since I met him. No longer was he the socially awkward, bumbling teenager who raised me from infancy. Now he was a jonin, a leader and dare I say, a socialite. I couldn't help but feel pride, both in him and myself. Because, in reality, I raised him as much as he raised me. I wasn't sure what his life would have looked like if I hadn't come along, but I somehow doubted it would have led him here.
He still held some of that self-consciousness, though, and I saw a flicker of it as he shook Biwa-sensei's hand. He was, actually, taller than the Tsuchikage's son—like every adult here, aside from Iwao's mother (Daigo's was unusually tall). But somehow, none of them seemed like they were. I wasn't sure how to describe it, but Biwa-sensei had a sort of presence to him, one that commanded respect.
(I'd ask Kazuhiro about it on the way home. He'd tell me that it was because Biwa-sensei's chakra reserves were so obscenely large, that our active chakra sense constantly registered his mere presence at close range, and would continue to do so unless he consciously masked it.)
"It is a pleasure to meet you in person," Kazuhiro greeted. "My imouto has spoken of you a great deal. She respects you greatly, something I know is hard-won."
"Is that so?" he mused, looking at me in amusement as I glared at my brother. "Funny. Her mannerisms would say otherwise."
Kazuhiro laughed sheepishly, though, to his credit, didn't appear outwardly mortified. Neither did he scold me, having correctly read that Biwa-sensei didn't truly take offense.
"My sister is a unique character. I've learned over the years not to mistake her outward irreverence for genuine disrespect. I would humbly ask you to do the same."
He huffed, accepting a choko of sake from Iwao's father. "You head the Sky Division, do you not?"
Kazuhiro dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Due in no small part to your support. You wrote a great deal of the literature that helped me hone my technique."
I quirked an eyebrow at that. Biwa-sensei indirectly helped Kazuhiro learn to fly? I'd never actually seen him exhibit that skill before. Though I suppose it made sense. He did have both an Earth and a Wind affinity, after all.
"I remember," he said. "Of course, I was one of only two with the skill in this village, and the other doesn't have time to spare for such activities."
"Nonetheless, I thank you for your part," Kazuhiro said, before stepping to the side and introducing Daigo's father. Apparently, they'd been acquainted, but hadn't shared a conversation. I imagined that the missions Biwa-sensei was sent on didn't usually require the fine touch of a genjutsu master.
"I do apologize for my lateness," he said to the group as a whole. "But I come bearing a gift. Despite how difficult my student can sometimes be. Have the others already been presented?"
"No, not yet. But perhaps now would be the time," Ishida Yuudai said. "If you'll follow me."
We were led to the sitting room, wherein the dining room table had been moved. Upon it were my gifts, an impressive display. One of them was quite large, and I wondered what could possibly be inside.
"Might I request to go first," Atsuchi asks. "This has been an enjoyable evening, but I'm afraid I have work to return to."
Aimi's head whipped towards him. "May I—"
"Yes, you may stay," he said with faux resignation, and her face brightened as I ruffled her hair. Aimi was as shy as she ever was in front of all these intimidating people, my teammates included in that designation. But she liked just being around me, which wasn't something she could experience all too often. It was really, really cute, and I'd have to make space tonight for some alone time.
Atsuchi selected his parcel, which I could tell immediately at a glance was a book. Which would have ordinarily been a boring gift, if not for the identity of who bestowed it. I neatly tore into the wrapping with enthusiasm, and found the subject to be more useful than I could have ever imagined.
"Minimization?" I all but gaped, pivoting towards Atsuchi so quickly I nearly got whiplash.
It was Aimi who answered. "Yeah! I know you've been interested in it for a long time, so I thought we could learn it together!"
"Learn…together?" I repeated, too off-kilter to even consider keeping the incredulity off my face. The other adults in attendance clearly grasped the significance as I had.
"Now, don't misunderstand," Atsuchi said, quickly. "I'm not going to be teaching you personally, or anything like that. But Aimi told me you had a project in mind. She's going to help you complete it, and hopefully get some practical experience along the way. I'll examine your final product to make sure you don't mess yourself up too permanently, but that's it."
I nodded quickly, thanking him five more times. This was still absolutely amazing. It was practically guaranteeing the creation of an invaluable weapon, one that I'd been fantasizing about for months. It could very well be the final push that brought me to chunin level.
Seal minimization was pretty self explanatory. It was shown several times in the anime; sprawling seals that, upon activation, would contract into themselves, taking on a much smaller and more compact shape. It allowed something incredibly complex to be placed on a much smaller object. Theoretically. As with everything fuinjutsu related, I imagined there were a lot of conditions that determined its feasibility.
"That is an incredible gift, Hamamoto-san," Kazuhiro said appreciatively. "Thank you for assisting my imouto. To you as well, Aimi. I take this as a personal favor. It could easily be the deciding factor that returns her to me alive."
"Think nothing of it," he said. "The girls work well together. Anything that hones my apprentice is hardly a sacrifice." He stood up from his seat at the table. "That being said, it really is time for me to depart."
I stood up as well and bowed. "Thank you for the gift, and for attending my celebration."
"You're very welcome," he said, maintaining eye contact as his mother stood up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek (it was closer to his chin—dude was massive). "Happy birthday. And may many more come."
He left, and we all turned our attention to the table. Atsuchi's act was a hard one to follow, but for the next, an attempt had barely been made. It was from the Hirose family, and they had given me a new weapons pouch. A nice weapons pouch, to be sure—it was made by Nakatami, who was the closest thing Iwa had to a shinobi fashion designer. It had all the desirable features, and it matched my color scheme. But…I kept everything in my inventory. My kunai pouch was little more than a prop. Daigo knew that, but I took his blank expression to mean he hadn't been consulted in the matter. Or perhaps he had said something, and was intentionally ignored.
Daigo's family was expected to get me a gift. An expensive gift, in fact; it would reflect poorly on him if he didn't. So, this was as close to a slap in the face as decorum and obligation would allow. I thanked them anyway.
The Ishida family was next, and Yuudai's smile was a touch unnerving as he handed me something resembling a manilla envelope. Warily, I opened it, taking care not to damage its paper-thin contents.
"I suppose some explanation is in order," he said, as I frowned at the paper in puzzlement. I understood what I was looking at, but the why's were eluding me.
"This is a certification, officially and legally recognizing you as a distributor of class one seals, including both exploding tags and storage seals. Now, you are officially able to create, use and even sell everything you've been producing."
Uh, yeah. I understood that from the piece of paper in front of me. But didn't I already have that certification? I mean, I hadn't received a physical one. Did Gari lie? Why? He arranged that whole thing to cover his own ass!
Then, Iwao's father shot me a conspiratorial wink, and I understood. He knew that I was already certified. He was giving me an alibi for Kazuhiro, who I hadn't told. Because I wanted to protect him from conflict with Gari, which he would no doubt pursue if he ever learned about the terrible wrong he'd inflicted on me.
All this time, Kazuhiro thought I was producing seals illegally. And make no mistake, he wasn't okay with that. Not after the Incident™. It's caused more than a few fights, so I took great pains to rub it in his face as little as possible. However, although he was extremely worried, he knew that telling anybody would only lead me to face grave consequences, so he resigned himself to the status quo, assured that I, at least, could make perfectly safe explosives (read: only dangerous in their intended capacity).
"Oh, thank Kami," Kazuhiro muttered. Case and point. But then his eyes darted up to Yuudai's, realizing the underlying significance of the gift. It proved he knew I was making seals without a license. Which proved Iwa knew. And instead of punishing me, they had just let it happen, and were now enabling me to continue legally.
Biwa-sensei must have come to the same conclusion, with the added benefit of some context. He knew about the Gari situation just like Yuudai obviously did. But he only learned about it after the fact.
I suspected already that the Ogres had known about my dealings with the Explosion Corps, and that no one had seen fit to intervene. They left me to despair, and work myself to the bone to get out of the situation by myself. I should be angry, I think. But I still felt lost. As if there were parts of the puzzle that I didn't yet see.
What I did know, with absolute certainty, was that Ishida senior was doing me a big solid at this current moment. He gave me an alibi, in such a way that kept Kazuhiro from launching a crusade against Gari/the Explosion Corps/ the Bakuhatsu clan. For that alone I could be grateful.
"That's not all, either," he announced. "Under current legislation, producers of class one seals must be assigned to one specific entity. Whether that be a privately-owned storefront, or a division within Iwagakure. You could risk a suspension or revocation of your license, or criminal charges if you are caught supplying anyone other than your assigned entity."
I had forgotten all about that. It had been years since I'd had that conversation with Nyūdō. What was it he said? That I was assigned to him as a supplier, like Yuudai had mentioned. And that…since I was assigned to him, he had certain legal responsibilities and power over me. It had been the reason he had been allowed—expected—to reprimand and closely monitor my actions after the accident.
My heart started to race, because, if Gari had me officially licensed…who or what was my assigned entity? I had a pretty good guess, and I didn't like it.
I thought I had already seen through Gari's final ploy. I hadn't. This was the final chain that kept me shackled to him. The average person wasn't familiar with that subset of Iwa law, so no one who I interacted with yet had called me out on it. And, with Tsuchibokori no Biwa currently watching over me, he was currently too scared to use it against me.
But he could. Eventually, when I was no longer so protected. He could bring that law to light at his discretion, and once again exert his dominion over me. And I didn't even know it. He kept it purposefully hidden from me.
However, with his next words, Ishida Yuudai broke the chain.
"I had you assigned to the Sky Division," he declared, and I could have wept. "I figured you would like to be assigned to your brother. Oh, but Asano-san. Since you are a division of the Iwa military, you don't have the authority to sell your sister's products to the public. They must be kept for your division's purposes. That is the official stance on the matter."
It was said with audible insincerity, implying that, if I were caught giving anyone else (like his son) exploding tags or storage scrolls, the most I'd get was a slap on the wrist.
I stood up so suddenly, the chair legs screeched on the hardwood. I stepped away from the table so as not to bang my head, and bowed as deeply as I could without getting on the floor. I could have done that, I was so overwhelmed by the gesture. But this wasn't the time or place.
"Thank you, sir," I nearly choked out, trying to swallow the emotion. "I am in your debt."
"Hey, hey, it's a birthday gift," he said with humor. "I'm just glad you appreciate it."
No, this went well beyond the expected scope of birthday gifts, and he knew it. I really was in his debt, and one day he'd call on it. I would have to be ready.
"Maa, I didn't realize I'd have such tough competition," Kazuhiro stage-whispered to Akane-obasan. "Now I'm feeling self-conscious about my own present. You go next."
She swatted his arm but complied. There wasn't much to say about her gift; it was a nice calligraphy set. I rarely drew my seals by hand anymore, so I probably wouldn't get much use out of it (not that she could possibly know that). But maybe, in conjunction with her son's and Aimi's gift, I would find some use for it soon.
Next came Kazuhiro's, which was the big one. It was also incredible; if not for so many people unexpectedly exceeding expectations, it would have definitely been the best. They appeared to be neatly-stacked pieces resembling shelves. In actuality, they were the physical vessels I would need to make myself four new inventory slots. Incredible, definitely, and I made sure Kazuhiro knew I thought so.
Then, there was one. I was incredibly curious to see what Biwa-sensei got me, and I was surprised when he withdrew a single, thick scroll. The only gift "wrapping" he bothered with was a ribbon tying it shut.
I pulled it open, and it took a moment to parse out what I was looking at. There wasn't a whole lot of text; it was mainly made up of illustrations. I opened it wider and it just kept going. If I hung it on the wall of my room, right up to the ceiling, the bottom would undoubtedly touch the floor.
"It's a diagram on how to better wrap your bandages," he explained, and I blinked. That was…useful, I guess. But a little lame. I supposed he didn't have much time to pick it out.
"Oh! Thank you, sensei," I said, tracing the instructions with my eyes.
"You're welcome. You do a satisfactory job already, but there is certainly room for improvement. The slightest imprecision can compromise speed, strength or flexibility, so its importance should not be underestimated. Additionally, the scroll provides insight on how to hasten the enrobing process. Something I've noticed you having difficulty with."
"That is true," I mused. "Huh. I'd never thought about using chakra sticking to help put on my bandages. That's clever."
"I'm glad you enjoy it. However, I brought it now just to show you. I'll have a scribe make an exact copy and give it to you at the soonest opportunity, but my father insists I return the original to him."
…His father? The Tsuchikage? Insisted that he return a scroll on bandage wrapping to him?
Then my eyes fell towards the bottom of the scroll, where a more complete diagram was displayed. My mouth fell open.
"Sensei?" I whispered. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Ah," he said, nonchalantly. "If you think it's a guide on Lord Mu's distinctive and perfect wrapping method, which he invented himself, then yes. It is."
I think everyone there, aside from Aimi and perhaps the wives, immediately grasped the significance as I had. There was a long, stilted silence.
People in Iwa didn't wrap their bandages like Lord Mu. They tried, but no one could manage it. It was really fucking hard to get all of them so even, so precise. Most gave up out of frustration after a few short weeks. I was pretty damn sure most people thought the secret had been lost upon his death.
But it hadn't. It was right here. Being gifted to me, with the informed permission of the man's fucking successor. This was Luffy showing up to Marineford to ring the Ox Bell with Rayleigh. People would take this to mean I was officially recognized as Lord Mu's second coming.
"You don't have to use it, of course," he began, but I interrupted.
"Oh, I am going to use it," I declared, and saw the jonin exchange glances.
Biwa-sensei gave me an uncharacteristic smirk. "I knew you would." He stood up. "It was a pleasure to meet you all. And I'll see the three of you tomorrow. Good night, and happy birthday, Imai."
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
AN: Hey Y'all! Happy New Year!
This chapter sets up some abilities Kasaiki will be getting soon. There will be a couple chapters before it kicks off, but the next arc is one I've been looking forward to since I started this fic. I can't believe it's finally time. But Kasaiki definitely needs a power jump before it happens.
I have a bad habit of writing first and researching second, with this fic specifically. I think it's because, in my head, I know the source material really well, but most of that recent knowledge comes from fanon rather than canon. This time specifically, I looked at Narutopedia to see if there was a canon explanation for the Shunshin technique (there is kind of, but not really). But I noticed that it states that it's a D-rank. I'm declaring it a C-rank for the purposes of this fic.
I don't have a Ptrn. If you've gotten five bucks of enjoyment out of this story, please consider buying my original work on amazon (information in my bio). Between the two sites this fic is posted on, I have nearly 1600 readers. If even half of you choose to support me in this fashion, I would have considerable bargaining power when it comes to getting future books published. More publishing deals means I can quit my day job, which translates into more time for fanfiction. It's a one time thing, and you even get more of my writing out of it.
Here's to an amazing 2024. See you next year!