When Captain Kiochi spoke with a serious and resolute tone, declaring that we would be working hard every day, he wasn't joking or exaggerating in the least. Even the most optimistic among us couldn't have imagined just how grueling the days ahead would be. We began to work like galley slaves, driven by the relentless lash of an invisible whip. But unlike slaves who toil for their masters, we were working for ourselves, for our own future and survival in this unforgiving world.
Each evening, as soon as we were released from the day's burdens, we would crawl back to our homes, utterly exhausted. Our arms and legs refused to move, every joint felt heavy and numb, and it was as if our bodies had been beaten by an invisible enemy. Returning home brought neither joy nor relief; it only meant one thing—heading to the bathroom to somehow wash away the fatigue and pain of the arduous day. Then, we would collapse into bed with the grim realization that the next morning would likely be even worse than the last.
Our fears were justified as each new day arrived, with Captain Kiochi showing no sign of fatigue or pity, increasing our workload relentlessly. He pushed us to the very limits of our physical and mental endurance, trying to extract every last ounce of effort from us. Finally, the last day of this exhausting marathon arrived. The strain was so intense that, as we left the training field, we could barely stand. We had no strength left, and even the will to move seemed beyond reach.
My body felt like it was on fire, every cell burned with pain, and my chakra channels sent out desperate alarms, questioning if it was time to rest and recover. The Captain seemed to have achieved his goal—driving us all to the brink of complete exhaustion. I felt as if I had been dragged through the most harrowing trials of my life. And I wasn't alone in feeling this way. Shiko, Ayamane—none of us had the slightest desire to move; we were like three broken warriors after a long and brutal battle.
"So, Team Thirteen," the Captain said, wearily sitting down on a stone stool that seemed to materialize out of thin air… Well, not exactly thin air—it was probably some unknown Earth Style technique. "How are you feeling?"
"Ugh…" groaned Shiko Yamanaka, looking as if every cell in her body was screaming in pain. She didn't even have the energy to form words—just a moan of exhaustion and agony.
Nara Ayamane didn't look much better. Her eyes were half-closed, and her breathing was heavy and labored, as if every inhale and exhale took tremendous effort.
"It could be worse, Captain," I replied, without even the strength to attempt getting up from the ground. "We're still alive, so I guess things aren't too bad."
"Better to be dead," muttered Ayamane, her voice weak and lifeless.
"I like your attitude, Machine," the Captain chuckled, dismissing her words. His eyes flashed with either approval or perhaps a hint of mockery. "Alright," he added after a pause, rising from his makeshift stone throne.
The Captain formed a concentration seal, preparing to use one of his techniques. He focused his chakra, and soon a stream of cold water burst from his palms, drenching us from head to toe, chilling us to the bone. The sudden ice-cold shower was so frigid it momentarily took our breath away, but it was exactly what we needed to shake off our fatigue and exhaustion.
"Ka-kha," Shiko began coughing, gradually coming back to life. Her face was a mix of surprise and indignation. "Captain!"
"What?" he replied, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I had to wake you up somehow… You were lying there like fish out of water. Heh. Alright, alright."
The Captain gave us a few minutes to recover, allowing us time to regain some strength. Of course, our physical energy didn't fully return, and the desire to move remained buried deep within, but at least some activity and drive began to resurface in our tired bodies.
"So, you probably remember that starting tomorrow, we have our first missions right here in the village," the Captain continued, his voice serious but supportive. "This means that tomorrow at nine in the morning, we'll all meet at the Hokage's Administration."
Oh yes, our so-called "light" two-week "break" from the Academy, which was supposed to give us a brief respite before diving into the real work of shinobi, was quickly coming to an end.
"See you," the Captain said as he turned to leave, slowly walking away and leaving us on the training field with nothing but our thoughts and the cold water still clinging to our skin.
To recover, we had no choice but to lie down. Our bodies were gradually recuperating, signaling more and more that they needed at least a few days of rest to fully bounce back. But something tells me we won't get that kind of time. I wonder what tasks await us? I have no idea.
Once we had somewhat recovered from the intense training, each of us slowly made our way home. Our bodies were so drained that we didn't have the energy to talk or socialize. We walked in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.
When I finally got home, I barely managed to open the door; my hands were hardly responding. My mom immediately rushed over, her eyes filled with concern as she examined me.
"Are you alright, Suzuki?" her voice sounded anxious.
"Yeah," I smiled, trying to hide the fatigue in my voice. "I'm fine, just tired today."
"Did the Captain push you hard again today?" she frowned, slightly raising her eyebrow. "If you want, I can make your favorite dinner."
"Yeah, we trained," I nodded, feeling the fatigue begin to retreat at the thought of a home-cooked meal. "But starting tomorrow, we'll have our first mission in the village."
"Do you know what it will be?" her eyes sparkled with interest.
"Not yet," I shook my head, my fatigue momentarily giving way to curiosity. I was also curious about what mission we would have. But nothing comes to mind. "We're meeting at the Administration tomorrow, and we'll probably find out then."
"Got it," she nodded, then noticed my wet appearance. "By the way, why are you all wet?"
"It was the sensei's attempt to inject us with some energy," I laughed, recalling the icy shower on the training ground. "Alright, I'm going to go clean up."
Mom nodded, still watching me with concern, as I headed to the bathroom, trying to regain my strength for the challenges ahead.
"Alright, I'll make some treats for you," she cheerfully called after me as I continued toward the bathroom.
"Thanks," I replied, turning back with a grateful smile.
As I reached the bathroom, I could feel every muscle in my body begging for rest. I filled the tub with hot water, added some bubble bath, and sprinkled in a handful of the aromatic salts Mom had recently bought. They promised to relax the muscles and soothe a weary mind.
"Let's see," I whispered to myself as I sank into the bath. "Ahhh-h."
Sure, soaking in a hot bubble bath after a tough day of training might not seem "manly," but at that moment, I didn't care about stereotypes. All I wanted was to feel relaxed and at peace.
The bubbles gently enveloped my body, and the warmth seeped into every tired muscle. I closed my eyes and allowed myself a moment of rest.
After the bath, I felt noticeably better. My body was still weary, but the sharp pain had eased. I changed into clean, comfortable clothes and tossed my dirty uniform into the washing machine. I had a spare uniform ready for tomorrow, more suited for missions.
Dinner with Mom was cozy and comforting. She made my favorite meal, and we talked a bit about the upcoming missions and training.
After dinner, I went to my room and collapsed onto my bed. I needed a good night's sleep before facing the new day and its challenges. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep—too exhausted to even dream.
In the morning, I greeted the new day, sticking to my usual routine. The warm bath from the previous night had done wonders, and I felt a pleasant relaxation in every muscle. But as soon as I tried to get out of bed, my muscles reminded me of their presence with a sharp pain. A wave of discomfort swept through my entire body, and for a moment, it seemed like staying in bed a bit longer might be the best option. However, I gathered my willpower and forced myself to get up.
"You can do it," I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath and doing a few stretches to warm up. Gradually, the pain began to recede, leaving behind only a slight numbness.
I made breakfast myself, as the kitchen was empty—my parents had left early, busy with their own affairs. After eating, I quickly dressed and headed to the Hokage's Administration. Outside, it was warm and sunny, and I could feel the last remnants of pain gradually leaving my body.
As I approached the building, I spotted Ayamane and Shiko already sitting on a bench, enjoying the first rays of the sun.
"Good morning," I greeted them as I walked up.
"Good morning, Suzuki," Ayamane replied with a smile, though it was clear she wasn't feeling her best. Last week's training had evidently taken its toll on her as well.
"Ugh," Shiko groaned, barely lifting her head to greet me. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and there were signs of fatigue on her face.
Yamanaka seemed too exhausted to speak, burying his face in the ground as he tried to rest. I joined my friends, sitting down in the empty spot on the bench. Leaning back, I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into a state of calm. The sun's rays gently warmed my skin, helping me relax and regain strength after the intense training. My muscles slowly began to unwind, and for a moment, I forgot the pain, lost in the bliss of warmth and peace.
But the moment didn't last. Suddenly, a shadow fell across my face, pulling me out of my peaceful meditation. Opening my eyes, I saw Captain Subidzuma Kiochi standing before us, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing.
"Good morning, genin," his voice was cheerful and lively, but there was a note of irony in it. "I see you're taking it easy here, huh?"
"Good morning, Captain," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm and respectful, even though my muscles were still screaming in pain. "We were just waiting for you."
"Well, alright then," he chuckled, accepting my answer. "Time to get up. There's work to do."
Yamanaka and the girls struggled to rise from the bench, exchanging looks that showed they understood it was time to get down to business. We were tired, but in the face of duty, there was no room for weakness.
Following the Captain, we entered the Administration building, which was alive with activity. Shinobi of all ranks were busy with their tasks, moving swiftly from one end of the corridor to the other, exchanging information and documents. The air buzzed with tension and anticipation of new missions and adventures. It was just another day in the life of a shinobi, filled with challenges and opportunities to prove our strength and skill.
Despite the pain in our legs, we slowly climbed the old stone steps that led us to the threshold of responsibility and trials. Beyond the heavy oak door, adorned with intricate carvings, lay the hall where our next assignments awaited. Captain Subidzuma Kiochi, leading the way, turned to give us a look full of expectation and seriousness. He nodded, as if confirming we were ready for what lay ahead, and then opened the door.
Crossing the threshold, we found ourselves in a spacious hall dominated by a large semicircular table. Behind it, seated in solid chairs, were the most important and influential figures of our village. The Hokage, majestic and calm, sat at the center, flanked by his advisors and several jonin with unfamiliar faces. A bit apart from the main group was a shinobi secretary, diligently writing something down, his pen moving swiftly across the paper.
Understanding the significance of the moment and the high status of those present, we quickly concealed any signs of fatigue or reluctance. We were ready to present ourselves in the best possible light. After all, before us sat the Hokage—the embodiment of strength and authority in our village. His power was almost palpable. As the strongest shinobi and ruler of the village, he held the fate of hundreds of shinobi in his hands, each ready to carry out his orders without question. And we, standing before him, were prepared to accept any task and execute it to the best of our abilities.
"Greetings, Hokage-sama," the Captain said, bowing, and we followed suit, our bows deeper and more solemn.
"Ah, young genin," the Hokage greeted us with a warm smile. "I'm pleased to see such respect from our younger generation. Jonin Kiochi, do you believe your team is ready to begin their duties?"
"Yes, Lord Hokage," the Captain replied confidently. "Team Thirteen is prepared to carry out missions for the benefit of the village."
"Excellent," the Hokage nodded approvingly. The others at the table also nodded in agreement. "Jonin, here is your mission package."
"Yes, Hokage-sama," Captain Kiochi said, accepting the package with both hands.
"You are dismissed."
We exited the hall and stepped outside. The Captain gave us a thoughtful look and gestured for us to follow him. We quickly passed by several street vendors and found ourselves in a small park. There, we settled in a vacant gazebo.
The Captain calmly unsealed the package and handed each of us a sheet of paper, keeping the fourth one for himself.
"So, we've received our first assignment," Captain Kiochi began. "The sheet you're holding outlines the mission or task, a detailed description, an assessment of difficulty, and the reward for completion. As you know, the reward is shared among the team and divided according to rank."
We all glanced at the amount. It wasn't particularly large. If one person completed the task alone in a day, it would be roughly equivalent to a common laborer's daily wage. But since this amount had to be divided among four people, an E-rank mission, like the one we'd been given, barely brought in any money.
"And how will the division work?" Shiko asked.
"The team leader with the highest rank gets forty percent. The rest is divided among the other team members," the Captain replied calmly.
"So, that means we'll each get twenty percent," Ayamane guessed.
"Exactly," the Captain nodded. "The higher your rank, the more money you take home. It's that straightforward."
Monetary motivation is a powerful driver. I'm sure many are motivated primarily by money, as it's one of the most important values for many people. Of course, all of this is under the banner of the Will of Fire.
"Captain, what's this set of numbers in the corner?" I asked Captain Kiochi.
"That's the mission or task code for the village's internal records," he explained. "Every mission has a unique identification number, allowing it to be properly archived later. This is necessary for various internal purposes. For now, it's not particularly important for you."
"Understood," I said with a nod. My comrades, Shiko and Ayamane, also accepted the Captain's explanation without further questions.
In our hands was a sheet of paper with detailed instructions for our next task. We carefully read it, trying not to miss a single detail. The essence of the task was to help one of the local residents with the reconstruction of his building. Apparently, this person needed extra hands, and we were to assist him.
"Building construction?" Shiko asked in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously? We'll be carrying bricks and mixing mortar?"
"Don't frown," the Captain calmly replied, ignoring her surprise. "This is your first mission, and you need to approach it with full seriousness and responsibility."
"But why such a task?" Ayamane asked, her tone cautious, though her appearance no longer showed signs of fatigue from yesterday's training.
"The thing is, in the future, you'll have to perform missions where you'll need to blend in and become part of a crowd of ordinary people," the Captain explained, maintaining his calm demeanor. "You need to master the basic skills of various professions so that the enemy won't be able to spot you at first glance. Is that clear?"
"Yes, understood," Ayamane responded, though her voice sounded somewhat uncertain. Apparently, she hadn't even thought about this aspect of shinobi work, and that was quite natural. After all, not everyone immediately considers such an approach, although it is an important part of preparing for difficult tasks, especially when it comes to surveillance and reconnaissance.
"Excellent," the Captain nodded approvingly. "Then let's head to the site. Time is of the essence."
We followed the Captain to the other end of the village and arrived at a building that was already halfway built. I wonder if other genin teams also receive similar tasks or not?
As we approached, a short elderly man slowly walked towards us. His appearance was complemented by large glasses with thick lenses, which gave his gaze a particular expressiveness, and a worn gray hat that covered his thin, graying hair. The old man leaned on an old, time-worn wooden cane, which, judging by its appearance, had served him faithfully for many years. The bottom of the cane was wrapped with several iron rings with small teeth, creating the impression that it was not just a support but something more serious and dangerous. I couldn't help but imagine how painful it would be to be struck by this cane on the back or head, and I quickly pushed that thought away.
"Good day, Mr. Kigandjou," the Captain greeted politely, addressing the client. "As I see it, the construction of your house is in full swing and is progressing quite quickly."
"Ah, welcome, jonin," the old man replied, nodding slightly in response. "Yesterday's group of genin turned out to be surprisingly efficient and active. Their Captain, a jonin named Guy, set the bar very high for everyone else. He and his subordinates did a tremendous amount of work."
"Yes, Guy is indeed capable of such feats," our Captain confirmed with a smile. "But let's not dwell on that. Allow me to introduce my genin team."
The old man shifted his gaze to us, and his eyes disappeared behind the reflection of his large lenses. He examined us closely, his lips curling slightly into a smile, and he nodded as if approving of what he saw.
"So, Yamanaka, Nara… and… who are you?" he asked me.
"Suzuki Grandvitara, sir," I replied to him politely and calmly.
"What?" he asked, looking surprised. "Are you trying to insult me?"
"In no way, Kigandjou-san," I replied. "That's my name and surname."
"Grandvitara," he repeated, looking at me with a somewhat sympathetic expression. "I don't envy you with such a surname. The name is one thing… but the surname."
"Kigandjou-san, you can just call him Machine," Captain Kiochi suggested.
"Just Machine?" he asked, looking at me once more. "I can do that. So, Just Machine, ready to work?"
I quickly glanced at the Captain, asking with my eyes what I should do. I didn't like being called Just Machine. It was one thing if it was just Machine… but like this. It was unpleasant. But our sensei just barely shook his head in a negative sense, hinting that it wasn't worth getting worked up over.
"Yes, Kigandjou-san," I replied to him.
"Excellent," he nodded in satisfaction and even tapped his cane on the ground. "Today, we need to dig a pit, pour a small concrete box, and then install piles in it. Besides this, in another room, we need to build walls out of red brick and make the first-floor ceiling. There's not much work. Just a few hours."
Our Captain simply waved his hand, sending us off to carry out the task. It didn't take long before we were handed shovels. However, they turned out to be surprisingly dull, which undoubtedly promised unpleasant prospects. Following the instructions, we began digging a pit, which, according to the plan, was to become the foundation for a new room. Its depth had to reach almost an adult's shoulder, width—about five paces, and length—eight. So, the pit was supposed to be slightly larger than usual, which added to our workload.
Meanwhile, our Captain chose not to waste his time on physical labor and went to the nearest diner. There, sitting by the window, he could calmly observe us, evaluating our work ethic and level of commitment, all while enjoying cold tea and delicious meat dishes.
From the client, we received old but still serviceable uniforms. They were worn but clean and quite comfortable. So, without wasting time, we got to work.
If anyone dares claim that digging with dull shovels is easy, I'd like to meet such a person in person and express my full range of emotions. Digging is anything but easy, especially when the day promises to be hot, and the air is filled with a sense of suffocating heaviness.
Of course, one could see this as yet another training session, but to be honest, digging a pit is a special kind of trial, a sort of test for both mind and body. It's a dull, monotonous, and exhausting task that you can't escape, can't shirk, and can't ignore. The client, old man Kigandjou, was digging alongside us. On the one hand, this made the task easier for us, as he guided and directed us. On the other hand, it allowed him to directly control how well we were doing the job and immediately correct us in various offensive ways.
"How are you digging? Huh? Don't you know how to use your hands? Huh?"—these were the kinds of questions he would ask if something was off.
After digging the pit to the required dimensions and nearly exhausting our strength, we mentally prepared ourselves for a short break and a small snack. However, our client didn't give us even a minute of rest, urging us to move on to the next stage—mixing the concrete. There was no time for a snack or a break.
We were quickly divided into groups: some took on the task of mixing the concrete, others—cutting wood to form the base for the future room. After all, simply pouring concrete into the pit was not enough. Some areas required careful leveling. And of course, the entire process had to strictly adhere to the client's specified standards.
After the preparatory work, we began installing the special piles and pouring the concrete. Deep down, each of us was already hoping for a well-deserved rest… but our client was relentless. Sighs of frustration could be heard from the girls on our team, as the construction work literally drained all our energy. But there was no time to rest—we moved on to building the walls.
As the day began to give way to evening and it grew darker, some of us started to entertain the hope that we would soon be allowed to go home. However, old man Kigandjou, as if sensing our thoughts, turned on a small spotlight that immediately illuminated the worksite, and we were driven to keep building as if we were slaves.
No one had any strength left, let alone the desire to complain to the Captain. He spent the entire evening on the sidelines, entertaining himself as best he could, participating in card games with several of his comrades. Interestingly, he even won a sum equal to the reward for our current task. To say this angered us would be an understatement. However, it also served as a sort of wake-up call, hinting that we should quickly reach the next rank to avoid such trials in the future.
"What can I say," our client, old man Kigandjou, who not only didn't abandon us but actively participated in all stages of construction, said. He literally worked alongside us, shoulder to shoulder, occasionally pushing us forward and even sharing valuable tips and nuances of working with various tools. It was clear that all these lessons and skills were settling into our minds, providing a solid foundation for future construction tasks. "Overall, you did a decent job. Of course, you can't compare to Team Eleven, their craftsmanship was top-notch, but still, not bad, considering you're still genin."
"So, will you sign the documents, Kigandjou-san?" our Captain addressed the old man, handing him a stack of documents and a pen.
"Yes, of course," the old man nodded, carefully reviewing the papers. "Everything is in order."
He meticulously signed in the designated place, doing so very neatly and precisely, then returned the documents to us and tucked the pen back into his jacket pocket. After that, without any unnecessary words, he simply left.
"Let's return to the Administration," our Captain said firmly and decisively, brushing off the dust and shaking the dirt from his boots. "Time to submit the completed task."
"But we need to clean up," Shiko purred with a slight, barely noticeable dissatisfaction, adjusting her hair and trying to clean her uniform from dirt and dust.
"Get used to it," he said with a slight smirk, hinting that our shinobi path would have many more challenges, and there wouldn't always be time for self-care.
We, walking wearily but with a sense of accomplishment, returned to the Hokage Administration building, which, as always, stood monolithic and imposing. Life continued to buzz around us, and although there weren't as many shinobi on the streets as there had been during the day, the watchful eyes of the secret guards could be felt everywhere.
Approaching a small window near the office where completed tasks were submitted, we handed over the documents and waited while the clerk carefully checked them. Each paper was meticulously stamped with the kanji for "Completed," and after that, the clerk handed a small envelope directly to our Captain.
"Thank you," he said, nodding respectfully.
"Good night," replied a pleasant, slightly sleepy female voice from behind the glass.
"And to you as well," the Captain responded, and we finally left the building, ready at last to go and rest after a long day.
We followed the Captain, who opened the envelope and began counting the money right in front of us. Out of the total amount, he kept forty percent for himself, and the remaining sixty percent he handed to us. We then divided that money among the three of us, each receiving roughly twenty percent of the total reward. It was little… very little.
"Well," the Captain said, "you're free to go. Tomorrow at eight-thirty we meet here. We have the next task."
"Hope it's not construction," Shiko quietly muttered. Ayamane agreed: "Good night, Captain."
"Good night, genins."