CH_6.4 (175)

CH_6.4 (175)

As much as he found the great outdoors, there was no joy in the last leg of his journey. Not sleeping for two days was not something Takuma couldn’t bear, but with the travel and the refugee camp incident, his brain felt like a searing mess, and his muscles felt like lead had been pumped into them.

The beauty of the countryside didn’t mesmerize him; the heaviness of his boots caked with mud didn’t irritate him. Nothing mattered as he ran across the foreign lands to fight a war that had nothing to do with his nation.

He couldn’t shut his brain down and mindlessly run. The events of the past two days swam around his mind, refusing to leave. He couldn’t help but think about Takashi and the two families he had spent time with. All of them were good people. Takashi was so elated to return home, and the children were the bright spot in the two families’ tents even when the times were rough—none of them were alive now.

‘I should’ve killed him.’

As he recalled the prisoner, he felt a raging, burning sensation in his heart. The man’s begging was akin to nails against a chalkboard. There were so many times he wanted to end the man’s life for the sins he had committed, but Taro’s mom’s words kept him from displaying any of his true feelings during the investigation.

‘—The suspect cannot ever be allowed to see frustration or difficulty in the interrogator’s eyes. The moment they see that, the control passes over to their hand—’

She was the one Takuma always called for difficult interrogations, and because her services cost so much money, he was always there in the co-joined room with members of his team to observe her process through the one-sided window to get a learning experience out of it. The little he knew; it came from her.

Takuma pushed his anger down as he saw tall earthen walls come into view.

He had arrived at his destination.

His destination, the camp, was once a village that had been vacated due to the danger from the Land of Frost forces who had breached the border and occupied the Land of Hot Water’s territory.

Due to the infrastructure and its strategic position, the shinobi forces had now occupied the village as their base of operation. Takuma couldn’t help but recall Miwa’s recollection of her own village and how this village was once home to people.

Takuma slowed down to a walk as a giant gate made from tall tree logs came into view. It was partially open, giving him a peek of the village inside. As he approached the gates, he noticed two guards standing guard with one more guard on the wall—half of his body covered by the wall—making it seem he was standing on a platform attached to the wall.

“Halt, identify yourself,” shouted one of the guards. Both the guards wore Hidden Leaf shinobi uniforms.

“Genin Takuma, Hidden Leaf, reporting for duty,” Takuma said.

The two guards exchanged glances.

“We weren’t informed about any arrivals today.”

“I have documents.” Takuma wasn’t in the mood to argue. After getting the permission, he took out a transparent pouch with his important documents. He handed them the documents necessary to prove his identity and deployment order.

“People are usually deployed in groups. Why are you alone... Genin Takuma?” asked the guard, reading his documents.

Takuma pointed to the cane strapped to the side of his bag along with his hand-ax. “An injury postponed my deployment.”

The guard hummed. “Wait here. I will go get these documents verified. Don’t cause any trouble.”

The guards showed not a hint of hospitality from their actions, expressions, and body language. As the guard disappeared behind the gates, the second guard stood in his post, his vigilant eye fixed on Takuma. Takuma felt another gaze on him and glanced up at the wall. The shinobi atop the wall was gazing down at him; he had a kunai with an explosive tag dangling from his hand.

The two guards made Takuma feel tense. He would have tried to chat with them, but he felt exhausted, so he sat down on the ground beside his backpack. He emptied his canteen in one big gulp and then stared at the ground, waiting for the guard to return.

It took the guard ten minutes to return.

“Your documents checked out, and your arrival has been verified. Welcome to Camp Banana, Genin Takuma,” announced the guard. He had a smile on his face this time.

Takuma walked Toridasu through the process and the intel he had extracted. Toridasu listened without interrupting until the end.

“This is troubling,” Toridasu sighed. “The incident would put pressure on us to be aggressive in territory reclamation... I will have to discuss this with Hayama,” he muttered the last sentence. “It seems I was wrong about you, Genin Takuma. You did good. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I welcome you to Camp Banana.”

“Thank you, sir,” Takuma bowed. “But we have met once before, sir.”

“Oh? I don’t remember meeting you though, Genin Takuma.”

“It was for a very short time, but you were the invigilator for my Academy Graduation Exam. You had asked me a trick question about how many shinobi stood in the exam hall—one of them was sitting.”

Toridasu stared at Takuma for a moment.

“I think I vaguely remember you; it has been many years. But what a coincidence for us to meet here. That was the only year I volunteered to oversee the academy graduation examinations,” said Toridasu.

“Jina!” called Toridasu.

A moment later, the woman shinobi from before walked in.

“Please introduce Genin Takuma to his chunin team leader.” Toridasu turned to Takuma. “You will be serving under her. Get yourself familiar with the team; they will be your family while you are in this camp.”

The genin named Jina led Takuma through the village. She didn’t say a word to him, but neither did Takuma initiate the conversation. He was tired, but knew that his first impression on his team was important, so he built up his energy so he could at least force himself to be his normal self until he had a chance to rest.

In the western part of the village, there was a residential area.

Jina and Takuma stopped in front of a single-story home. She walked to the door and knocked.

“Chunin Mitarashi! Genin Takuma, your new subordinate, has arrived,” she shouted.

‘Mitarashi?’ Takuma wondered where he had that family name.

“Pipe down, no need to break the door down,” a woman’s voice came from inside. “I’m coming out. Give me a moment, for god’s sake.”

Jina sighed before stepping back.

A few moments later, the door opened, and a young woman in her late teens stepped out of the house. She was an average-sized woman with a slender frame. She had light brown eyes. Her hair was of a dull violet color, styled in a short, spiky, fanned-out ponytail.

“Oh, so you’re Takuma, huh,” she said. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mitarashi Anko. Let’s get along, right?”

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