Super Ninja

When I was almost home, the light of evening began to fall over Konoha, shrouding it in a soft twilight. Silence reigned around me, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind. It was no surprise that the familiar presence of Captain Kiochi immediately caught my attention. He seemed to be waiting for me, sitting on the roof of a nearby house, silhouetted against the sunset, casually holding a snack in his hands. With the grace and ease of a seasoned warrior, he jumped down and approached me, tucking the food back into his pouch.

 

"How was your day, Suzuki?" he asked with a relaxed smile.

 

"Not bad, Captain," I replied, bowing my head respectfully. His unusually casual demeanor caught me off guard, as Captain Kiochi was typically more reserved. "And how are you, Captain?"

 

I made a subtle gesture—a quick, nearly imperceptible hand motion known to the shinobi of Konoha, used for identification. It was something we learned at the Academy to verify each other's authenticity. Kiochi responded correctly, but my suspicions remained. A correct response didn't rule out the possibility that enemy scouts from rival nations had learned the gesture and trained their agents to infiltrate our ranks.

 

"All is well, Suzuki," he said. But using my real name instead of the usual nickname "Machine" only heightened my doubts. In a situation like this, the real captain would have used my nickname, not my formal name.

 

Glancing discreetly toward the house, I noticed my adoptive parents laughing together. It made me even more tense. If this person, disguised as Captain Kiochi, had ill intentions toward them, I could never forgive myself for allowing it.

 

"Well, that's good to hear, Captain," I replied, slowly closing the distance between us. I extended my hand for the traditional shinobi greeting—a fist bump. He approached and lightly tapped his fist against mine with an uncertainty that was out of character. That was the moment I knew: this wasn't the captain. His movements were too stiff, lacking the effortless precision I was used to. I made a secret sign, known only to members of our team—a special gesture we agreed upon for extreme situations requiring identification.

 

There was no response. That told me everything I needed to know. I had two options: call for help or handle the impostor myself. Glancing around, I realized there were no shinobi nearby. I would have to act alone.

 

With a swift, calculated move, I grabbed his arm. If he were the real captain, he would have already countered with one of the advanced techniques we had practiced together. But the impostor, caught off guard, squirmed in a chaotic attempt to break free, displaying the strength of a chunin rather than a jonin—one trained through years of dangerous missions.

 

I didn’t give him a chance to resist. In one sharp, precise motion, I threw him over my shoulder. My grip tightened, and with little effort, I broke his arm. The crack of bone echoed in the evening quiet, a warning to anyone who might dare to stand in my way. My next strike drove his face into the ground with pinpoint accuracy, raising a cloud of dust. I felt his bones yield under the pressure, bending to the unyielding laws of physics.

 

Without hesitation, I grabbed his leg. My next move was deadly and precise, another crack signaling the final note in our brief but intense skirmish.

 

When the smoke from his Henge technique cleared, I saw before me a young man of medium height with gray, mid-length hair and a Konoha forehead protector gleaming on his brow. His pain-filled, surprised eyes met mine. Slowly and firmly, I tied his wrists with a rope from my pocket, leaving him no chance to escape. His broken arm and leg made any resistance futile, but experience taught me that even a crippled Konoha shinobi could still be dangerous.

 

"Shh," I whispered, watching him struggle helplessly. "You should’ve been better prepared for this."

 

"Khah—" he gasped, struggling to speak through bloodied lips. "Hospital… to the medics."

 

"What?" I asked, confused. "Hospital? What are you talking about? We’re going to the ANBU."

 

"I'm from Konoha," he said, trying to justify himself, blood dripping from his mouth. "I'm Mizuki."

 

"No," I shook my head, refusing to believe his words. "Why would a Konoha shinobi approach another shinobi, hiding under a Transformation Jutsu? Especially as their sensei. Only a spy would do that. And the ANBU will deal with spies."

As I dragged him along, I realized it would be a long walk to the Hokage's residence. However, I hadn’t taken more than a few steps before a group of jonin appeared. Their eyes, filled with surprise and curiosity, immediately focused on me and my captive.

 

"What are you doing?" one of them asked, eyeing the immobilized spy with a skeptical expression.

 

"Taking him to the ANBU," I replied calmly, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. "He was using a jutsu to impersonate Captain of my team and was hanging around my house."

 

"Hmm," another jonin said, his voice tinged with confusion. "That’s concerning. But with the chunin exams coming up, let’s help you take him to the Hokage's residence. What do you think?"

 

I was surprised by their offer but grateful for the assistance. My muscles relaxed slightly at the news.

 

"Alright, thanks," I nodded.

 

One jonin quickly summoned a stretcher, while another roughly pushed the impostor onto it. Their actions were decisive and professional, without hesitation. They lifted the stretcher with such efficiency that I was taken aback for a moment, having expected to carry the spy myself while they stood by.

 

"Thank you," I said, feeling a wave of relief.

 

"No problem," they responded as we headed toward the Hokage's residence.

 

When we arrived at the Administration Building, the reception felt almost ceremonial. Several captains and a team of medics were gathered at the entrance, their expressions serious and inquisitive. Among them stood Captain Kiochi, watching with a confident, satisfied smile.

 

The jonin carrying the stretcher stopped, and the medics immediately got to work, providing first aid to the wounded spy. They moved quickly and efficiently, like a well-oiled machine. The injured spy groaned in pain as the medics carefully examined him.

 

"You handled that well," Captain Kiochi said as he approached me.

 

"So it was a test?" I asked, feeling a mix of surprise and relief.

 

"You guessed right," the captain chuckled. "You must always be prepared for an enemy to strike from an unexpected direction. Staying calm is essential. But maybe you didn’t need to break his bones?"

 

I shrugged, unsure of what to say. Maybe I had acted too decisively, but at that moment, it felt like the right choice.

 

"Alright," the captain sighed. "You can head home. And yes, I’ve been informed that you'll be going on a journey with Jiraiya. He'll be training you for a while."

 

I smiled, excited about the adventure ahead. Training with Jiraiya promised to be thrilling and incredibly valuable.

 

"When you return, the team will begin more intensive training in preparation for the chunin exams," Kiochi-sensei continued, nodding. "In the meantime, I’ll work with Shiko and Ayamane to bring them up to speed."

 

"Understood, Kiochi-sensei," I replied with a nod.

 

After a long day, I finally returned home. Upon entering the spacious living room, my attention was immediately drawn to a new sofa that fit harmoniously into the cozy interior. It was something new, something I hadn’t seen before. It looked fresh and a bit unusual for our home.

 

"Oh, I see you bought a new sofa," I said to my mother, inspecting it from different angles.

 

"Of course," she replied joyfully, standing on tiptoes with excitement. "Got it on sale."

 

"Interesting," I commented, noticing a detail that immediately caught my eye. The back of the sofa bore the symbol of the Uchiha clan—the clan from which only one person had survived. "Oh... I see it once belonged to the Uchiha clan."

 

"Yep," my father confirmed, slowly approaching on his crutches, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "We managed to get it at a discount, and it’s in great condition. Your mother has always had a knack for finding interesting things."

 

"By the way, I won’t be home for the next few weeks," I said. "I’ll be training under a Sannin."

 

"A Sannin?" my mother asked, frowning slightly in confusion. "Who is that?"

 

"A very strong and experienced shinobi," I explained. "He’ll help me with a certain aspect of the shinobi arts."

 

Mother nodded, her gaze filled with care and understanding.

 

"Alright," she said, smiling slightly. "As long as it helps you achieve the results you’re aiming for."

 

For the rest of the day, I decided to relax and skip training. Simple meditation wasn’t really training—it was just a way to let my mind float freely and take a break from everything around me.

 

The next morning, I woke up in a great mood. After getting ready quickly and packing my things, I had a light meal and headed straight to the Northern Gates. Jiraiya was already there, standing off to the side, calmly watching the sky.

 

"Good morning, Trainer-san," I greeted him.

 

"Good morning, Suzuki," he nodded, giving me a thoughtful, examining look. "I see you’re ready for our little journey."

 

"Hai, Jiraiya-san," I replied. "I’m always ready to work."

 

"Excellent," he nodded, allowing a small smirk to cross his face. "Let’s get moving."

 

We quickly moved to the upper paths, circling the village and heading toward the southern part of the country. Once on the main road, we descended to the ground and began walking slowly and steadily. Jiraiya didn’t rush to ask me anything or engage in any particular topic. But the silence couldn’t last forever.

 

"Tell me, Suzuki, which element are you developing right now?" he suddenly asked.

 

"The Earth Element," I replied. "Kiochi-sensei thought it would be a good fit for me, especially since he’s skilled in it himself."

 

"Uh-huh," Jiraiya mused. "And I’ve heard from him that you have an affinity for all the elements. Is that true?"

 

"Yes, Jiraiya-san," I answered, still unsure of where this conversation was headed.

 

Of course, it was a bit naïve to expect that he would teach me various techniques, considering his earlier statement that our focus would solely be on mastering natural energy. Nonetheless, somewhere deep down, I still nurtured the hope. It would be amazing to learn battle techniques from him or even master them myself. But it seemed that this was just a dream. Should I try bringing up the subject? Maybe when we dive deeper into the study of natural energy...

 

"Hmm," Jiraiya pondered, his gaze thoughtful. "And as I understand, you haven’t yet experimented with using natural energy to enhance the techniques you already know, right?"

 

"No," I said, shaking my head. "But is that really possible? I assume I haven’t reached the required level of skill yet."

 

"It's possible, but extremely risky," he nodded, a hint of warning flashing in his eyes. "I know only one shinobi who has managed to integrate natural energy into their techniques successfully. And believe me, I’ve met many exceptional warriors."

 

"Can I know his name?" I cautiously asked Jiraiya.

 

"Of course," he replied, giving me a penetrating look. "He’s known as Orochimaru."

 

That name... I had heard it in my previous world as well. But what exactly made it so iconic eluded me. Perhaps it was related to his unique abilities? I couldn’t quite recall.

 

"I’ll remember that name," I nodded, committing it to memory. "And if I ever encounter him, what should I do?"

 

"Most likely, you won’t meet him," Jiraiya said, but his tone was serious. "However, if you hear his name or find yourself nearby, it’s best to avoid direct contact. Without sufficient strength—comparable to mine—Orochimaru could easily kill you. In other situations... either run or wait for reinforcements from someone capable of truly opposing him."

 

"Hai, thank you for the advice, Jiraiya-san," I said gratefully. "And what techniques does he use with natural energy?"

 

"It’s hard to say," the Sannin admitted. "As I mentioned before, every shinobi using natural energy has a unique style. Take the First and Second Hokage, for example—two brothers, both powerful shinobi. Both could manipulate natural energy, yet their techniques were vastly different. What do you know about the First Hokage?"

 

"It seems he used Wood Style," I suggested.

 

"And the Second Hokage? What’s he known for?" he continued.

 

"His mastery of Water Style and his ability to create a variety of techniques," I answered.

 

"Exactly," Jiraiya confirmed with a nod. "It’s no secret that the First Hokage managed to combine Water and Earth Styles, using natural energy, to create Wood Style. How he did it remains a mystery. A lost art."

 

"All attempts to recreate his technique have either failed or lacked a fraction of his power. Interestingly, the Second Hokage, despite being the First’s brother, couldn’t use Wood Style. So remember, not everything is as straightforward in the world of shinobi."

 

"Hai," I exhaled thoughtfully. "Thank you for the explanation, Jiraiya-san."

 

"Pfuh," the Sannin scoffed, his long white hair billowing in the wind.

 

For a moment, we lapsed into silence as I pondered the possibility of using natural energy to recreate Wood Style. It could greatly enhance my abilities… However, on the other hand, such power could attract unwanted attention. After all, someone might want to know how I managed to master such a rare element. ‘So, how did you get Wood Style, kid? Care to share? And we’ll give you a pie,’ they might ask. No, it’s better not to think about that for now, though the temptation is strong. The odds of success are slim, but… why not?

 

At one point, we stopped to allow a large caravan to pass. Its escort included several shinobi. We could have used the upper paths, but Jiraiya chose to stop, so we took a break. Only after that did we continue our journey.

 

After some time, we sped up again, jumping onto the upper paths. This time, Jiraiya moved a little faster than before, but I kept up without much trouble. Then we stopped by a small lake, and Jiraiya turned to me:

 

"Show me how you use your natural energy," he said.

 

"Hai, Jiraiya-san."

 

Focusing, I began to slowly absorb the natural energy from the surrounding area. My senses immediately sharpened, allowing me to perceive the world around me more clearly.

 

Suddenly, I sensed Jiraiya rushing toward me. He moved quickly but in a way that allowed me to react. I dodged his attack and attempted a counterstrike. Jiraiya easily parried and countered with one of his own. I leaped back, using a bit of the natural energy already flowing through my chakra system. After a brief landing, I moved in for another attack.

 

The Sannin effortlessly sidestepped, pulling me with him, and grabbed my arm. Rolling away, I jumped back and froze for a moment, assessing the situation. Jiraiya stood calmly, watching me intently. He seemed completely indifferent to all my actions. Our levels were incomparable.

 

After bouncing lightly in place a few times, I prepared to continue the assault, but Jiraiya simply nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

"What I can say based on what I’ve seen," he began, "is that you seem to have a natural talent for developing in this direction. Of course, there’s still a lot of work ahead, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you."

 

"So what’s next, Jiraiya-san?" I asked, expecting some unexpected action on his part.

 

Jiraiya turned to me with a calm look.

 

"First, we’ll make our way to Otakuku City," he began, choosing his words slowly. "There, we’ll explore certain aspects of natural energy that are best mastered in the hustle and bustle of a city. The first week of training will be devoted to control and internal use of energy. In the second week, we’ll focus on applying that energy in close-quarters combat."

 

I listened attentively. Otakuku City, from what I knew, wasn’t far, but the path required using the upper routes if he intended to train me for two weeks. I assumed we’d be using this path, and during the journey, he would give me additional interesting—or perhaps not so interesting—training. I hoped for the former.

 

"Understood, Jiraiya-san," I responded, feeling the tension slowly leave my body. Focusing, I allowed the natural energy I had gathered during our conversation to flow out of me smoothly. The world around me briefly lost its brightness and contrast, my senses dulled as if I had taken a step back from reality.

 

Jiraiya nodded, watching me with approval.

 

"This is a good start," he said. "It’s important not only to gather natural energy but also to release it. We’ll practice this as well, and you’ll be able to avoid many dangers associated with its use."