Super Ninja

We crossed the border into the Land of Frost without much trouble. At a small outpost, we were delayed for a while, as if the guards wanted to flaunt their authority. However, our documents were in order, and none of us had any intent to smuggle anything illegal. Profiting from us wasn’t easy.

 

The border guards—ordinary people in uniform—hissed and spat through clenched teeth but couldn’t find anything to criticize. Perhaps they didn’t really try.

 

We continued on our journey, enjoying the pleasant weather. As soon as we crossed the mountain ridge, we noticed small but immediate climate changes. A biting wind appeared, cutting straight to the bone. The nights grew colder than we were used to. The first few mornings were blanketed in thick fog, though it thankfully dissipated quickly.

 

“It’s a bit cold,” Shiko remarked one evening as we stopped. “Winter seems to be just beginning, and it’s already this chilly.”

 

“Different climate,” our team captain said, shrugging.

 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get any colder during our mission, and that we avoid snow,” he added.

 

“Captain Kiochi,” I addressed him, “is it really a good idea to do archaeological work in this kind of weather?”

 

“I’m no archaeologist,” he said, shrugging again. “It might be worth asking the professors or their students later.”

 

“Maybe their work isn’t just excavations,” Ayamane suggested. “Maybe it’s something else, but still related to ancient relics.”

 

“Well, it could be anything,” the captain replied with another shrug.

 

Our caravan continued onward until we came to a stop beside a large, peculiar mound. A small cart stood nearby, and it looked like someone was inside. The cart was draped in a strange gray fabric with a schematic frog design, which made me curious about its owner.

 

As soon as our caravan halted by the mound, the cart’s owner, clearly the leader, emerged. Captain Kiochi, along with the captains of the Eleventh and Twelfth teams, immediately approached him. The group gathered around the cart, and out jumped an unusual man. He looked oddly familiar to me—it was the Toad Sage, Jiraiya, a figure I remembered seeing in images on the internet. Unfortunately, I couldn’t recall exactly what he was famous for... what a shame.

 

Jiraiya was a tall, middle-aged man with long white hair sticking out wildly, tied into a ponytail. Red markings under his eyes gave his face a charismatic edge. He wore a light green kimono and matching pants, with a mesh shirt visible at his wrists and ankles. His look was completed with arm guards, a black belt, traditional Japanese wooden sandals, and a red haori adorned with yellow circles on either side.

 

A wide grin spread across Jiraiya’s face when he saw the trio of jonin standing before him. He barely acknowledged the archaeologist, who clearly wasn’t pleased but remained silent. I suspected that Jiraiya was no ordinary man. His knowledge and experience could be invaluable to our mission... if he chose to help, though that seemed unlikely.

 

They began speaking quickly, their conversation animated with gestures. Captain Kiochi, Maito Gai, and Sarutobi Tetsuya asked questions only they understood. Jiraiya responded with ease. When it was the archaeologist’s turn to question the shinobi, Jiraiya quickly lost interest and wrapped up the conversation.

 

Saying something as he departed, he leaped into his cart and tugged on the reins.

 

“Ribbit!” A loud, frog-like sound echoed.

 

The cart slowly began to move, revealing the creature pulling it. A massive, dark blue frog, almost the size of a small car, trudged forward. Its rough skin, like the surface of an old bronze shield, and large, bulging eyes with golden irises that caught the last light of the setting sun gave it an eerie aura. Its powerful legs, capable of immense leaps or devastating strikes, moved with steady strength and endurance. As it passed us, the frog emitted deep, rhythmic breaths that seemed to fill the air around us.

 

Suddenly, the frog stopped, catching the shinobi off guard. It turned its head slowly, scanning the group with its piercing gaze.

 

“Ribbit!” it croaked.

 

“What?” Jiraiya responded, sounding surprised. “Really?”

 

“Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit,” came the reply.

 

It seemed like Jiraiya understood every word. I was nowhere near that level of skill.

 

“Hmm,” Jiraiya muttered, glancing around at all of us. The captains remained still, waiting to see what the renowned shinobi would do next. He slowly scanned the group, moving his gaze from one genin to the next, until his eyes locked on me. I met his stare and instantly felt small and insignificant. For a brief moment, a grin seemed to flicker across his face. Then he looked away and made a subtle motion with his hands.

 

“Let’s go, my friend. We have work to do.”

 

“Ribbit,” the frog replied, and the cart began to move again, gradually picking up speed.

 

They disappeared into the distance, and only then did our caravan stir. Was everyone really so afraid of Jiraiya? He seemed fairly reasonable to me.

 

The captains quickly engaged in discussion with the head of the archaeological group. Since there were no disagreements, they found common ground swiftly.

 

After the meeting, the captains returned to their teams to relay further instructions.

 

“Team Thirteen,” Captain Kiochi called out to us, “welcome to the site of our mission.”

 

At that moment, the carts began positioning themselves around the mound, forming a protective perimeter.

 

“Our client by the name Tatsuya will conduct a small informational briefing for you and Teams Eleven and Twelve once the setup is complete,” Sensei said. “For now, prepare to take up your defensive positions around the camp according to the standard tactics you’ve learned. Understood?”

 

“Yes, sensei,” we replied in unison.

 

“Captain,” I asked after, “will our camp be set up on the mound or next to it?”

 

“At its base,” Sensei calmly responded.

 

I asked because defending from higher ground is different than defending when pressed against a slope. Setting up camp at the top would have made defense easier. We’d have greater visibility, allowing us to set traps and alarms more effectively. Defending from an elevated position is always preferable. But... that wasn’t our plan.

 

We would be defending at the base of the mound. It wasn’t an encouraging thought, but it was the reality.

 

The camp setup began immediately, with our teams coordinating to arrange the carts in a semicircle at the foot of the mound. The cold air left a faint mist with each movement.

 

Proper defensive positioning is invaluable in various scenarios. While the head of the archaeological group gave instructions to his team, we focused on understanding the terrain and what the surroundings offered.

 

Team Eleven set out for reconnaissance. With the Byakugan, they were well-equipped to handle scouting duties. They could easily spot ideal locations for caches, potential escape routes, and other details that conventional techniques might miss.

 

Team Twelve concentrated on setting traps around the camp, aiming to respond to potential threats or, at the very least, gain a minimal tactical advantage.

 

Once most sectors were secured, we moved on to more complex tasks that required strategic thinking. We had to anticipate how enemy shinobi might try to bypass our defenses and quickly devise countermeasures. It was clear this mission wouldn’t be easy, but that was just the nature of the job.

 

The head of the archaeological group had finished briefing his team, and the cart setup was complete. That meant only one thing—it was time for our briefing. Hopefully, the client would share something important or at least interesting.

 

“So, shinobi,” he began once we had all gathered around him, “first of all, I want to thank you for accompanying us on this journey. I know it can be challenging at times, but you’re doing a great job.”

 

The archaeologist paused, scanning our faces as if trying to read unspoken thoughts before asking his questions. Most of us kept neutral expressions, making it hard for him to glean anything. Tatsuya, our client, pursed his lips briefly, seemingly disappointed that he couldn’t pick up on anything. Well, it didn’t matter much to me, nor to most of the other shinobi.

 

“Ahem,” Tatsuya cleared his throat. “What I wanted to say is... the situation is quite interesting because we’ll be researching this mound. During my studies in one of the daimyo’s libraries, I came across several intriguing texts. After years of research and countless hours of investigation, I finally traced the mystery to this location. It’s probably not of much interest to you, so I won’t go into detail. Once we retrieve the artifacts, we’ll head back. There’s a decent chance of enemy attacks during this research, though I wouldn’t bet on it.”

 

He paused again, adjusting his gray cap. Though he wore simple, unassuming clothes, a closer look revealed the quality of the seams and materials. What appeared plain at first glance now seemed deliberate, as if this “plainness” was a facade. His sharp eyes hinted that this man was far from ordinary—something any shinobi would notice.

 

“Our enemies could be local bandits,” Tatsuya continued, telling us what we already knew, “or rogue shinobi hoping to plunder our findings. No one else should have any interest.”

 

The archaeologist conveniently omitted the potential interest from Kumo, who might want to know what Konoha’s shinobi were doing in a state that served as a buffer zone. That could lead to significant political issues and dangerous power plays. As much as I wanted to avoid getting involved in those games, I had a feeling it would be inevitable.

 

With three genin teams and their jonin captains here, we were a formidable force—not so overwhelming that we were untouchable, but certainly strong enough to deter casual threats.

 

“So, I’d like to ask you,” the man continued, “what do you expect from us to make your job easier?”

 

The captains exchanged glances, then turned their attention to us. No one was quick to raise a hand or speak up, as the question was clearly directed at the captains. Everyone understood that—especially the captains.

 

“Good question,” Captain Kiochi said thoughtfully. “First of all, we want you to understand that we’ve been hired to protect you from enemies. We’re not here to guard your artifacts, cook your meals, feed your animals, or assist with your excavations unless it directly concerns your safety. If you have any requests or needs, you should approach the jonin of the team. The genin won’t be able to meet every demand exactly how you want.”

 

The jonin raised their hands for the client to easily identify them. He nodded, clearly understanding. Good.

 

“In addition to that, if we’re in a fight and you hear any of us order you to hit the ground, you do it immediately. If, during a battle, you’re told to jump... you jump,” Captain Kiochi said, his tone calm but firm, ensuring the client grasped the seriousness of the situation. “Also, you should understand that your animals and your belongings, as valuable as they may be, aren’t as important to us as your lives. In short, don’t act like fools.”

 

That last statement was blunt but perfectly clear—and applicable to many aspects of life. If you avoid acting foolishly, you can achieve a lot. I’ve always been self-critical, and I’m sure I’ve had moments when I acted like a fool without even realizing it.

 

“Good,” the client sighed, then smiled. “For some reason, I feel confident that we’ll work well together.”

 

“Excellent,” Captain Kiochi said with satisfaction. “If you think we can work together, that’s a good start. May I ask a question?”

 

“Of course, shinobi-san,” the archaeologist replied.

 

“What are the chances that others will take an interest in these excavations?”

 

A proper and logical question, in my opinion. But honestly, his answer wasn’t that important to us. We were ready for any major players who might take an interest in us. That’s it. No one would slack off on building defenses, even if our enemies turned out to be ordinary mercenaries with no chakra whatsoever.

 

“Not very high,” the archaeologist replied after a moment of thought. “Let’s put it this way: my research might interest other archaeologists trying to understand what society was like during the time of the Great Sage. Believe it or not, the Great Sage led a fascinating life. One of his most famous accomplishments was creating the art of the ninja. Since I don’t possess chakra, I’m curious about how he managed to do that. Perhaps this mound holds another key. So... this topic shouldn’t attract the attention of other Hidden Villages.”

 

“Perhaps,” Captain Kiochi grunted. “But let’s not make any assumptions. It’s better to be prepared for difficult and unexpected situations.”

 

“I agree with you there,” the archaeologist nodded. “My subordinates and colleagues won’t get in your way, but we also ask that you don’t interfere with us.”

 

“Of course, of course,” Sensei replied. The other jonin nodded in agreement. None of our teams intended to meddle in the archaeologists’ affairs. No one wanted to take on extra responsibilities without compensation. It’s rare to see shinobi help their clients out of sheer goodwill unless they’re being paid. “You don’t need to worry about that, sir. We won’t interfere. In most cases, you won’t even notice us.”

 

“Excellent,” the archaeologist said with a contented smile. “Then I’m done. There’s no other information that would be useful to you.”

 

“Thank you for the briefing,” Captain Kiochi responded.

 

We didn’t hear much new information, but certain issues needed to be addressed before anything catastrophic or dangerous could occur. No one wanted to die because of some avoidable mistake.

 

After the archaeologist left, we were left alone. Silence hung in the air, unbroken for a moment. We genin waited for the jonin to speak. We had no special insights or ideas that could change the situation. So... we just waited.

 

“So, what do we think?” Captain Kiochi asked the group.

 

“What’s there to think about?” Maito Gai replied. “As long as we have the chance, we should train. And when an attack comes... we’ll handle it.”

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t make ourselves too visible,” Sarutobi Tetsuya suggested. “We don’t need to attract more attention than necessary. I expect we’ll get a delegation from the locals soon, probably full of questions. That’ll give us a better idea of how easy or difficult this mission will be.”

 

“I can’t argue with that,” Captain Kiochi exhaled. “The locals might be annoying, but they’re not known to be strong or dangerous. We just need to stay cautious. So, I think we can do some training—but nothing too flashy. Stick to simple physical exercises or chakra control practice. Agreed?”

 

“I don’t mind,” Maito Gai agreed with enthusiasm. “And if anyone wants to join my training, I’d be happy.”

 

Everyone who had been through his training and wasn’t part of his team immediately looked reluctant. But not me—physical training means strength improvement. Even if the progress is microscopic, it’s still growth, and that’s what matters.