Takuma no longer needed to gather energy; he was now wide awake.
Having Orochimaru’s student as his team leader was not something Takuma had imagined or dreamt of happening. However, surprising as it was—he didn’t find the situation to be something he needed to remedy or to be on guard. From what he remembered, Orochimaru had abandoned Anko, and they hadn’t crossed paths until the Chunin Exams.
“You know I read your file, but you truly are young. The Uchiha really gave you a team to lead, huh. You must be one of those geniuses.” Anko leaned against the door frame, standing on one foot while she used the other’s heel to scratch the leg she stood up.
Takuma wanted to be humble in his reply, but she beat him to it.
“But then you started out in the Genin Corp, so maybe not.” Anko stood up straight. “Or are you one of those late bloomers? Well, whatever. None of that matters now that you are here. You will be working under me, so do not expect special treatment. Get rewarded for good work, punished for mistakes—same as others, no exceptions.”
“That is fine with me, ma’am.”
“Good, but drop that ma’am crap. I don’t like that shit at all. Call me by name.”
Takuma opened his mouth to say that wouldn’t be respectful, but he was once again beaten to it.
Jina, beside him, spoke up. “Chunin Mitarashi, that’s not the proper etiquette. You must not—”
“Genin Jina, I don’t require you to tell me how I deal with my subordinates and team,” Anko cut her off in a stern, authoritative voice, in stark contrast to how laidback she was moments ago.
“M-My apologies,” Jina bowed her head, her expression resentful.
“You have done your task of leading Genin Takuma to me. Return to the old geezer before he starts making a fuss about tardiness and slacking shinobi,” Anko said, her voice returning to her initial tone.
Jina bowed before rushing away from the scene.
Takuma looked back at Anko and felt his impression and respect for Anko rise. He agreed with Jina about it not being proper etiquette; he was respectful to every shinobi who held a higher rank than him (bar Enomoto), and suddenly being asked to discard the practice he had followed from Day-1 was naturally uncomfortable.
Moreover, he believed that while there was nothing wrong with the leader being friendly with his subordinates, the subordinates needed to be aware that they couldn’t disrespect the leader. A leader didn’t need to be an asshole to his subordinates, but it should be clear that insubordination was not tolerated.
In one swoop, Anko had demonstrated that while she wanted to be called by her name, she was still his commanding officer and a shinobi of a higher rank.
“Now, where were we?” Anko turned to Takuma.
“You told me to call you by your name, Miss Anko,” Takuma replied.
“Drop the miss as well, Takuma. Doesn’t suit me, don’t you think?” she grinned, her dull violet eyes held a streak of roguishness.
“I understand… Anko,” Takuma conceded.
Anko turned back into her house and put on a pair of slippers. “Walk with me. Let’s get your housing settled with the quartermaster, and then we will meet the rest of the team.”
As the base was an abandoned village, the shinobi lived in the houses. And because of the village’s size, they had plenty of rooms to go around. Anko told him that he could get a private room without needing a need to share. And when they reached the quartermaster’s office, it turned out to be true. Takuma was given his own room in a shared-house.
“Oh, you will be sharing with Daiki,” said Anko as she peeked at his residential assignment.
“I’m assuming he is one of the team members?” he asked.
Anko nodded. “Toridasu and Shirakumo have ten chunin each under their command, who further have five genin each under their command. That’s our main combat force. There are others, like the quartermaster and his team, the medical house, and the communication cell, but they are all in non-combat positions unless required.
“You and I are part of Team-9,” she said.
There were twenty teams from Team-1 to Team-20. All odd-numbered teams were under Jonin Toridasu, and the even-numbered teams were under Jonin Shirakumo.
“Ideally, every team would be balanced and follow the standard team structure, but this is reality. We don’t have an iryo-nin on our team, but that’s not anything unusual… Are you secretly an iryo-nin?” Anko asked, humorously.
“Unfortunately, not,” Takuma replied with a small smile. “I was told that teams usually have an additional role other than combat. What is Team-9’s role?” There were teams specializing in scouting, tracking, capturing, infiltration, assassinations, among various other specialties.
“We are responsible for intel extraction from.” Anko turned her gaze to Takuma. “Torture and Interrogation. I hope you have got the stomach for it. If not, you will be forced to develop one.”
“… It won’t be a problem,” he replied.
Anko smiled before slapping him on his back. “But don’t put us in the torture box just yet. Our job is intel extraction, and people aren’t the only source of intel. We are also responsible for breaking codes on any communication that is intercepted. Information is a potent weapon; usually, when you know what’s coming, it becomes infinitely easier to plan a counter against it.”
Takuma knew firsthand the importance of intel. He had built an entire sub-department from the ground up based on the inside information against drug networks.’’
“So, I have been meaning to ask. What’s with the cane.” Anko pointed at the cane strapped to the side of his back.
“I had an injury. My leg sometimes gets sore. It has gotten to a point where it isn’t a problem, but I still carry it just in case…”
“This injury is from the assassination?” she asked.
Takuma wondered what all was there in his file.
“Yes.”
Anko hummed. “The topic of your late deployment will come up. I don’t know how you wish to handle it, so I have simply told the team to ask you directly. You can handle it at your own discretion.”
“Thank you. I don’t intend to hide. The media back home made it so the matter couldn’t remain private. It’s better to tell the truth than invent a lie which can be undone in an instant,” he said.
“I approve,” Anko smiled.
They talked a bit more until they reached their destination.
“We have arrived. This will be your home until we move the base,“ said Anko.
Takuma looked at the single-story house with a large front yard. He could tell from the wooden fence stretching far beyond the building that the backyard was even bigger. The front yard itself could roughly fit three of Takuma’s apartments.
“DAIKI!” Anko yelled.
“… Or we could have knocked,” Takuma sighed.
The door soon opened, and a two-meter-tall man, built like a professional bodybuilder, stepped through the door. He had to crouch a little because of his height. He only wore pants, so all of his shredded muscles were displayed in all their glory. He had umber brown skin, a shaved bald head, and a square jaw.
“What is it, Anko?” asked Daiki. His voice was a deep, rich, and smooth voice, fitting the man’s appearance.
Both Anko and Takuma had to look up as they talked to Daiki.
“This is Takuma. The new team member I talked about.”
“Good to meet you. My name is Takuma.”
As Daiki stood before Takuma, a shadow was cast on the latter. Takuma wondered if Daiki was one of those alpha men type dudes who wanted to assert dominance
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Takuma. My parents named me Daiki in their humble hopes that I would grow up big and strong. I must admit, I was looking forward to your arrival. Our teammates are all pleasant people, but I find myself desiring some male company. Now that you are here, I wish nothing more for us to get along.”
Takuma was stunned. He wasn’t expecting such an eloquent way of speaking from a giant.
“He is our scout and tracker,” said Anko.
Takuma was surprised. “Scout? I thought surely he would…”
Anko laughed as she slapped Takuma on his back. “These muscles are all for looks. He is weak as hell,” she said.
Daiki frowned. “That’s a crude way to put it, Anko. This is my preferred physique; I like the aesthetic. And when I look good, I feel good. It’s simply a form of personal improvement.” Daiki flexed, and Takuma had to give it to him, Daiki looked like a prime specimen. “And Takuma, judging someone by their appearance is narrow minded, not suitable for a shinobi. I hope you will treat me based on my actions rather than my appearance.”
“My bad.” Takuma shook hands with Daiki. “I hope you’ll treat me the same.”
“Of course,” Daiki flashed a bright smile.
“Dump your stuff in your room, and then we'll go meet the ladies,” said Anko.
Because the rest of Team-9 were women, they all shared a separate house.
“Daiki might look intimidating, but he is not a combat-forward shinobi,” Anko said as they walked. “He can pull his weight, but he lacks the instinct to be a main combatant for the team. Among the remaining team, we have two combatants, but I want one more to even things out. So, I want to ask: what can you do?”
Takuma knew this was going to happen, so after more than two years, he had dusted his resume and updated it for potential employers. He took out a scroll from his person and handed it to Anko.
“What is this?”
“My list of qualifications and skills. I’m confident in my combat ability, but I believe you would want to test them out.”
Anko didn’t reply as her eyes were glued to the scroll.
“You know how to operate a comms radio?” she asked.
“Yes, I can. I know five of Hidden Leaf’s code transformations to encrypt information in sensitive situations. I’m also intimate with the standard radio’s electronics and technologies, so I can repair it if needed.”
He even had a certificate for it.
“… I think you will fit in well even if you suck at fighting.”
“Thank you.”
They reached another house, and once again, Anko yelled instead of knocking on the door.
“IORI!”
A moment later, a purple-haired woman older than Anko dragged her feet out of the building. The woman had stunning looks and a body, but it was ruined by the bird-nest-like hair, deep eye bags, and messy clothes stained with ink.
“What?” she asked sharply.
“Ah, sorry. Did I wake you up?” asked Anko.
Iori looked pissed.
“This is Takuma. The new team member,” Anko quickly diverted Iori’s attention to Takuma.
“Sorry to disturb you. My name is Takuma.”
The sleep-deprived woman looked at Takuma, and her eyes narrowed. Iori sighed and bowed to her with an amount of grace that looked out of place because of her appearance.
“I am Iori. Sorry to show you this unsightly appearance. I have not slept for the last few nights,” she said.
“Please, don’t mind me. You can return to your rest; we can converse later,” Takuma said, understanding her plight. She looked much worse than he was feeling.
“Thank you, and yes, let’s talk later,” saying that, Iori returned to her house.
“Send Kameko out, will you,” Anko called out after her.
“I thought Jonin Taridasu didn’t appreciate tardiness,” Takuma said to Anko.
“The upright geezer might, but I don’t give a fuck about those things as long as you do your job properly. One good part about him is that he doesn’t micromanage as long we give him what he wants, which can be a problem sometimes—but nothing is perfect, so we take what we get.”
Takuma hummed.
Two minutes later, another woman exited the house, and the moment she, her eyes narrowed in displeasure.
As for Takuma, he recognized her.
“Ah, it’s you,” he muttered.
Her academy classmate and the girl who almost cleaved him in half during the Genin Corp basic training.
Taketori Kameko.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader] or Ko-Fi [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Takuma no longer needed to gather energy; he was now wide awake.
Having Orochimaru’s student as his team leader was not something Takuma had imagined or dreamt of happening. However, surprising as it was—he didn’t find the situation to be something he needed to remedy or to be on guard. From what he remembered, Orochimaru had abandoned Anko, and they hadn’t crossed paths until the Chunin Exams.
“You know I read your file, but you truly are young. The Uchiha really gave you a team to lead, huh. You must be one of those geniuses.” Anko leaned against the door frame, standing on one foot while she used the other’s heel to scratch the leg she stood up.
Takuma wanted to be humble in his reply, but she beat him to it.
“But then you started out in the Genin Corp, so maybe not.” Anko stood up straight. “Or are you one of those late bloomers? Well, whatever. None of that matters now that you are here. You will be working under me, so do not expect special treatment. Get rewarded for good work, punished for mistakes—same as others, no exceptions.”
“That is fine with me, ma’am.”
“Good, but drop that ma’am crap. I don’t like that shit at all. Call me by name.”
Takuma opened his mouth to say that wouldn’t be respectful, but he was once again beaten to it.
Jina, beside him, spoke up. “Chunin Mitarashi, that’s not the proper etiquette. You must not—”
“Genin Jina, I don’t require you to tell me how I deal with my subordinates and team,” Anko cut her off in a stern, authoritative voice, in stark contrast to how laidback she was moments ago.
“M-My apologies,” Jina bowed her head, her expression resentful.
“You have done your task of leading Genin Takuma to me. Return to the old geezer before he starts making a fuss about tardiness and slacking shinobi,” Anko said, her voice returning to her initial tone.
Jina bowed before rushing away from the scene.
Takuma looked back at Anko and felt his impression and respect for Anko rise. He agreed with Jina about it not being proper etiquette; he was respectful to every shinobi who held a higher rank than him (bar Enomoto), and suddenly being asked to discard the practice he had followed from Day-1 was naturally uncomfortable.
Moreover, he believed that while there was nothing wrong with the leader being friendly with his subordinates, the subordinates needed to be aware that they couldn’t disrespect the leader. A leader didn’t need to be an asshole to his subordinates, but it should be clear that insubordination was not tolerated.
In one swoop, Anko had demonstrated that while she wanted to be called by her name, she was still his commanding officer and a shinobi of a higher rank.
“Now, where were we?” Anko turned to Takuma.
“You told me to call you by your name, Miss Anko,” Takuma replied.
“Drop the miss as well, Takuma. Doesn’t suit me, don’t you think?” she grinned, her dull violet eyes held a streak of roguishness.
“I understand… Anko,” Takuma conceded.
Anko turned back into her house and put on a pair of slippers. “Walk with me. Let’s get your housing settled with the quartermaster, and then we will meet the rest of the team.”
As the base was an abandoned village, the shinobi lived in the houses. And because of the village’s size, they had plenty of rooms to go around. Anko told him that he could get a private room without needing a need to share. And when they reached the quartermaster’s office, it turned out to be true. Takuma was given his own room in a shared-house.
“Oh, you will be sharing with Daiki,” said Anko as she peeked at his residential assignment.
“I’m assuming he is one of the team members?” he asked.
Anko nodded. “Toridasu and Shirakumo have ten chunin each under their command, who further have five genin each under their command. That’s our main combat force. There are others, like the quartermaster and his team, the medical house, and the communication cell, but they are all in non-combat positions unless required.
“You and I are part of Team-9,” she said.
There were twenty teams from Team-1 to Team-20. All odd-numbered teams were under Jonin Toridasu, and the even-numbered teams were under Jonin Shirakumo.
“Ideally, every team would be balanced and follow the standard team structure, but this is reality. We don’t have an iryo-nin on our team, but that’s not anything unusual… Are you secretly an iryo-nin?” Anko asked, humorously.
“Unfortunately, not,” Takuma replied with a small smile. “I was told that teams usually have an additional role other than combat. What is Team-9’s role?” There were teams specializing in scouting, tracking, capturing, infiltration, assassinations, among various other specialties.
“We are responsible for intel extraction from.” Anko turned her gaze to Takuma. “Torture and Interrogation. I hope you have got the stomach for it. If not, you will be forced to develop one.”
“… It won’t be a problem,” he replied.
Anko smiled before slapping him on his back. “But don’t put us in the torture box just yet. Our job is intel extraction, and people aren’t the only source of intel. We are also responsible for breaking codes on any communication that is intercepted. Information is a potent weapon; usually, when you know what’s coming, it becomes infinitely easier to plan a counter against it.”
Takuma knew firsthand the importance of intel. He had built an entire sub-department from the ground up based on the inside information against drug networks.’’
“So, I have been meaning to ask. What’s with the cane.” Anko pointed at the cane strapped to the side of his back.
“I had an injury. My leg sometimes gets sore. It has gotten to a point where it isn’t a problem, but I still carry it just in case…”
“This injury is from the assassination?” she asked.
Takuma wondered what all was there in his file.
“Yes.”
Anko hummed. “The topic of your late deployment will come up. I don’t know how you wish to handle it, so I have simply told the team to ask you directly. You can handle it at your own discretion.”
“Thank you. I don’t intend to hide. The media back home made it so the matter couldn’t remain private. It’s better to tell the truth than invent a lie which can be undone in an instant,” he said.
“I approve,” Anko smiled.
They talked a bit more until they reached their destination.
“We have arrived. This will be your home until we move the base,“ said Anko.
Takuma looked at the single-story house with a large front yard. He could tell from the wooden fence stretching far beyond the building that the backyard was even bigger. The front yard itself could roughly fit three of Takuma’s apartments.
“DAIKI!” Anko yelled.
“… Or we could have knocked,” Takuma sighed.
The door soon opened, and a two-meter-tall man, built like a professional bodybuilder, stepped through the door. He had to crouch a little because of his height. He only wore pants, so all of his shredded muscles were displayed in all their glory. He had umber brown skin, a shaved bald head, and a square jaw.
“What is it, Anko?” asked Daiki. His voice was a deep, rich, and smooth voice, fitting the man’s appearance.
Both Anko and Takuma had to look up as they talked to Daiki.
“This is Takuma. The new team member I talked about.”
“Good to meet you. My name is Takuma.”
As Daiki stood before Takuma, a shadow was cast on the latter. Takuma wondered if Daiki was one of those alpha men type dudes who wanted to assert dominance
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Takuma. My parents named me Daiki in their humble hopes that I would grow up big and strong. I must admit, I was looking forward to your arrival. Our teammates are all pleasant people, but I find myself desiring some male company. Now that you are here, I wish nothing more for us to get along.”
Takuma was stunned. He wasn’t expecting such an eloquent way of speaking from a giant.
“He is our scout and tracker,” said Anko.
Takuma was surprised. “Scout? I thought surely he would…”
Anko laughed as she slapped Takuma on his back. “These muscles are all for looks. He is weak as hell,” she said.
Daiki frowned. “That’s a crude way to put it, Anko. This is my preferred physique; I like the aesthetic. And when I look good, I feel good. It’s simply a form of personal improvement.” Daiki flexed, and Takuma had to give it to him, Daiki looked like a prime specimen. “And Takuma, judging someone by their appearance is narrow minded, not suitable for a shinobi. I hope you will treat me based on my actions rather than my appearance.”
“My bad.” Takuma shook hands with Daiki. “I hope you’ll treat me the same.”
“Of course,” Daiki flashed a bright smile.
“Dump your stuff in your room, and then we'll go meet the ladies,” said Anko.
Because the rest of Team-9 were women, they all shared a separate house.
“Daiki might look intimidating, but he is not a combat-forward shinobi,” Anko said as they walked. “He can pull his weight, but he lacks the instinct to be a main combatant for the team. Among the remaining team, we have two combatants, but I want one more to even things out. So, I want to ask: what can you do?”
Takuma knew this was going to happen, so after more than two years, he had dusted his resume and updated it for potential employers. He took out a scroll from his person and handed it to Anko.
“What is this?”
“My list of qualifications and skills. I’m confident in my combat ability, but I believe you would want to test them out.”
Anko didn’t reply as her eyes were glued to the scroll.
“You know how to operate a comms radio?” she asked.
“Yes, I can. I know five of Hidden Leaf’s code transformations to encrypt information in sensitive situations. I’m also intimate with the standard radio’s electronics and technologies, so I can repair it if needed.”
He even had a certificate for it.
“… I think you will fit in well even if you suck at fighting.”
“Thank you.”
They reached another house, and once again, Anko yelled instead of knocking on the door.
“IORI!”
A moment later, a purple-haired woman older than Anko dragged her feet out of the building. The woman had stunning looks and a body, but it was ruined by the bird-nest-like hair, deep eye bags, and messy clothes stained with ink.
“What?” she asked sharply.
“Ah, sorry. Did I wake you up?” asked Anko.
Iori looked pissed.
“This is Takuma. The new team member,” Anko quickly diverted Iori’s attention to Takuma.
“Sorry to disturb you. My name is Takuma.”
The sleep-deprived woman looked at Takuma, and her eyes narrowed. Iori sighed and bowed to her with an amount of grace that looked out of place because of her appearance.
“I am Iori. Sorry to show you this unsightly appearance. I have not slept for the last few nights,” she said.
“Please, don’t mind me. You can return to your rest; we can converse later,” Takuma said, understanding her plight. She looked much worse than he was feeling.
“Thank you, and yes, let’s talk later,” saying that, Iori returned to her house.
“Send Kameko out, will you,” Anko called out after her.
“I thought Jonin Taridasu didn’t appreciate tardiness,” Takuma said to Anko.
“The upright geezer might, but I don’t give a fuck about those things as long as you do your job properly. One good part about him is that he doesn’t micromanage as long we give him what he wants, which can be a problem sometimes—but nothing is perfect, so we take what we get.”
Takuma hummed.
Two minutes later, another woman exited the house, and the moment she, her eyes narrowed in displeasure.
As for Takuma, he recognized her.
“Ah, it’s you,” he muttered.
Her academy classmate and the girl who almost cleaved him in half during the Genin Corp basic training.
Taketori Kameko.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader] or Ko-Fi [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
