Chapter Eight (Patreon)

Hatake-sensei did not emerge from the building for hours. The three Genin began to play games to pass the time. I Spy was a popular one, with both the Sharingan and Byakugan users emerging the victor far more often than Jing. Not that she was bitter, of course. Any patterned breathing during and after rounds of that game was solely to practice her newly acquired Sun Breathing skill.

When Hatake-sensei at last emerged, it was with a dark look on his face, and a hint of Killing Intent leaking from him. The Jonin guards looked at him warily, while the three Genin abandoned their games, snapping to attention.

“Come with me,” Hatake-sensei ordered, and immediately set out. They moved through the base, brushing past carts of food, ore, and weapons. They moved down three flights of stairs, through torch-lit darkness, before emerging into a bare room marked only by its stone walls and seals. Two Chunin were already there. They scattered after seeing the look on Hatake-sensei’s face.

“This is the sparring room,” Hatake-sensei explained. “Come at me.”

“Hatake-se–”

“Are you tired?” Hatake-sensei demanded. “You will be. Exhausted? Low on chakra? You will be. Now fight.” Hatake-sensei did not wait. There was no planning, no moment to recover or adapt. He leapt towards them, fists glowing with chakra.

Haruko met him. She deflected the first of his punches, then another. Yet there was no room for her to breathe. No opportunities for a counter-attack, nor any initiative of her own. Beneath the might of the White Fang, Haruko was swiftly suffocating.

Jing joined in. Her breath changing, drawing power not just from the lightning that coursed like blood in her veins, but from fire and immortal Yang as well. Her skin seemed to glow as she lashed out, fists and feet swiping down at her sensei. It was not enough. Not to win. But it bought Haruko time enough to breathe, and gave Fugaku an opening.

Fire flashed. Not the immense fireballs favored by his kin, nor a sweeping firestorm that would tear down a forest. This was different. Condensed. Searing. A thin line of blue-white fire that tore through the air without warning or caution, aimed for their sensei’s chest.

Hatake-sensei ducked back. The flame crashed against the walls. For a moment the seals glowed, then faded, the walls undamaged by the blast.

Jing launched herself forward, lightning flaring around her. Sun Breathing met Superconductor met Raiton. Hatake-sensei ducked back, avoiding her fist. It didn’t matter. This was no simple Raiton: Lariat. This was Jing’s invention, useful only by dint of her blessings nad biology. A Lighting Grenade exploded from her fist, ten centimeters from Hatake-sensei’s body. The bolts flared, directed by Storm Call. Each one snapped towards Hatake-sensei. He moved back, summoning a wall of wind to block the blasts.

Haruko and Fugaku made their move. Haruko leapt forward, forcing the defending Jonin closer to the wall. His location pinned, Fugaku let loose another blast of blue flames.

Then the world shifted. Hatake-sensei kicked himself off the wall. He drew his blade and, in a single motion, sliced through Fugaku’s fire. The last of the lightning bolts lashed out at him. Hatake-sensei blocked with his blade, trapping the current on his blade. It glowed, sparks flaring. He swung, and the lighting released. Three bolts hit Fugaku. Three more hit Haruko. The blade itself came down, halting a hair’s breadth from Jing’s throat.

“Good,” Hatake-sensei said. He pulled back, sheathing his blade. “You’re ready.”

“Ready for what, Sensei?” Fugaku asked, picking himself up off the ground.

“Missions.” Hatake-sensei sighed. “Shimura-sama has decided that I am too valuable to use on missions that Genin can handle.”

“We can handle—” Haruko started

“More than the average Genin,” Hatake-sensei cut in. “Maybe more than most Chunin. You cannot handle the missions Shimura-sama is sending me on.”

“You’re going to take out their best,” Fugaku guessed. “Their leaders, their elite Jonin, their rising stars.”

“Yes.”

Jing hesitated. She wanted to ask if he would be safe. But she knew better. War was unpredictable. It was a raging fire, ready to lash out at anyone nearby. And Hatake-sensei would be diving into the fire’s center.

“What will we be doing?” Jing asked instead.

“C-Rank missions. Mostly convoy escorts. Some rear-lines scouting.”

“Bandit elimination?” Haruko asked.

“No. Any group of bandits this close to the front is guaranteed to have shinobi in them. That qualifies it as a B-Rank mission.”

Haruko sighed, but did not object. Jing quietly agreed with her. At least when hunting bandits, they were the ones with the element of surprise. As a convoy, they would only be subject to ambushes. Though, given the combination of Byakugan, Sharingan, and Sensing, anyone who could sneak up on them was likely good enough to face them head-on.

“When do we start?”

“Assignments are given out at the Mission Desk each morning,” Hatake-sensei answered. “Be there by 6 am.”

Jing sighed. Too early, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“When are you leaving, sensei?” she asked.

“Tonight, once you settle into the barracks. You will probably have a day or two to settle in before your first assignment, though I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Hai, sensei.”

*

The barracks were just as drab as the rest of the base. Soldiers slept in rows of bunk beds made from compressed earth with only sleeping bags and pillows to soften them. They woke to dull brown walls and the scent of sweaty clothing. Truly, Hua Jing considered it a great fortune that her team was given only a single day of rest. Not even the prospect of training Sun Breathing could make up for the aesthetic horror. Besides, what Jing needed most was to incorporate Sun Breathing into her existing arsenal. Considering a great deal of that arsenal was calling down lightning from the sky, training inside a hill was hardly ideal.

The convoy they were sent to escort was a small one. Four wagons and eight civilians were being sent to Watchtower 258. Named for its elevation, Watchtower 258 was one of many forward defensive positions intended to catch a potential Iwagakure offensive before it could reach key targets, like the hidden base, the Hidden Grass Village, or the Grass Daimyo’s capitol. Jing found the goods that they were transporting (mostly food and construction supplies) a good sign. If things were dire for the watchtower, they would be requesting more shurikens, kunai, and explosive tags.

The mission proceeded calmly. Other than a few glimpses at the outskirts of her vision, Haruko detected no ninjas for the entire journey. They arrived at the watchtower, helped unload the goods, and had their mission slip stamped by the garrison Jonin before heading back to base.

Their second job came on the heels of the first. Another convoy, this one being sent to the Grass Daimyo’s capitol to purchase additional food. Jing’s team was one of two Genin squads on the convoy, with a Chunin squad (lead by a Special Jonin) commanding. Twice Haruko spotted clusters of ninja, though they never came close enough to be identified as friends or foes.

By the time they reached the base again, rumors were beginning to spread. The White Fang was said to be everywhere at once. He killed the Iwagakure General at Meadow’s Run. He beat back the Tsuchikage’s brother within sight of the Grass Daimyo’s summer palace. He cut through an army of mercenaries near the border with Rain. Everywhere he went, the same story repeated. Once the White Fang emerged, the question was not whether Konoha would win. The question was if Konoha’s foes would retreat or be buried.

Another convoy was assigned. They would be leaving alone, to meet with a large convoy being gathered in Konoha. The trip to Konoha was unremarkable save for the quality of game they hunted. Fugaku in particular was skilled at butchering, while Haruko’s proved a perfect hunter and Jing an excellent cook.

The convoy was already being assembled when they arrived at Konoha. Jing counted more than three hundred wagons, with more still being brought forward. Each wagon was loaded down with items ranging from food and uniforms to weapons and period supplies.

“Team One, Hatake, reporting for duty,” Fugaku announced.

The Chunin on duty looked them up and down. “IDs.” They handed them over. “Good. Dojutsu confirmation?” Fugaku activated his Sharingan and Haruko her Byakugan. “Identities confirmed. Jonin Sarutobi Aiko is commanding. She’s over there.”

The Jonin-commander was a lithe woman, her arms built like whipcord muscles and her face scarred by war and weathered by experience. “Another team of Genins,” she scoffed. “At least you all can scout. You’ll be in the forward party. What’s the range on your eyes?”

“1.2 kilometers,” Haruko answered.

“My sensing range is three hundred meters, but doesn’t need to be switched off,” Jing chimed in.

“Hmph. We’ll be moving slowly. I want the three of you at the front, with a Byakugan check every five hundred meters.”

“Hai, Jonin-sama.”

*

‘Moving slowly,’ as Jonin Sarutobi had put it, was being rather generous. To Jing the convoy moved at a snail’s pace, creeping its way across the dirt roads of the Land of Fire. By the end of the first day, the rear of the convoy could still see the walls of Konoha. An impressive feat, given the area’s heavy forests.

Despite the creeping monotony Jing and her comrades remained alert. Nothing was more dangerous to a soldier than a momentary lapse. Each day they scouted just ahead of the convoy, always close enough to Shushin back if needed.

Days grew into weeks, and nothing happened. The ninjas grew bored. The wagon drivers grew lax. Their standards were raised as they entered the Land of Grass, but it was only a temporary change. After all, the front lines were hundreds of kilometers away, and Hidden Grass remained an ally.