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Renma watched with half-lidded eyes as the spar played out below. From the get-go, it was clear that the chuuni had the upper hand. Kuro, while not bad, was just a step behind. Always a moment too slow or just a bit off-balance to handle the chuunin.
Still, the kid didn't fold. He took the hits, rolled with the blows, and kept coming back, grit that was respectable, but not rare.
Renma exhaled slowly, rubbing the side of his jaw as he leaned back in his seat. 'Guess I was wrong…' he thought to himself. It wouldn't be the first time. His intuition was usually on point, but not perfect. And this? This was just another swing and miss. The boy was good, better than average even, but not the kind of talent he was looking for. Not the kind worth staking the Kohaku name on.
Then came the knockdown.
Kuro hit the floor with a heavy thud, and Renma rolled his shoulder with a bored sigh. That was enough. He'd seen everything he needed to. 'Another waste of time.' with that, he stood from his seat, brushing off his white shirt as he turned for the exit, already thinking about how long the walk home would be.
He had several different meetings and formal gatherings lined up during his stay in Konoha, boring obligations tied to his family name. It was all the same...bowing heads, polite lies, and subtle power plays disguised as tea and diplomacy. Nothing he was looking forward to. So leaving early now meant time to rest, maybe drink, and brace himself for the social storm bullshit he would have to deal with. His gut had already warned him, the next few weeks were going to be long.
But just as he turned to leave, something shifted in the air.
Renma paused.
His eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze back toward the ring, and what he saw made him freeze. Kuro moved again, but this time, it wasn't the same sluggish step behind the Chuunin's rhythm.
No.
He was fast.
Way faster.
It wasn't just an improvement, it was a complete shift. One second, he was a kid barely keeping up, and the next, he was blitzing across the ring. Renma's eyes tracked the movement instinctively, but there was a slight delay now, tiny moments where Kuro's attacks blurred at the edges, unregistered.
It didn't make sense.
'What the hell…' Renma leaned forward, his brows furrowing. The Chuunin on the mat had clearly noticed too as his stance adjusted.
And Kuro? He wasn't just faster.
He was reading his opponent now.
Renma's jaw hung slightly open as he processed the sudden shift. He wasn't sure what he expected when the fight started, but it definitely wasn't this. 'Was he holding back…?' he questioned, his mind trying to make sense of it.
But that didn't sit right either. No kid hides that much potential just for the hell of it. Not unless…he was hiding something.
His brows knit tighter.
And suddenly, Renma wasn't bored anymore. He wasn't heading home. Not yet.
Because for the first time today...
Something was worth watching.
And instantly, as the evaluation between the Chuunin and Kuro continued, the shift in momentum became apparent. The two now stood on nearly equal footing when it came to speed with just a hair's breadth between them. The Chuunin still held the advantage, but it was no longer an overwhelming difference, and it was just enough for Kuro to stop falling behind. But what really gave him the edge wasn't speed.
It was skill.
Even with the Chuunin still having a small speed advantage, Kuro was starting to take control of the fight. He pushed the Chuunin back, step by step, with clean movements and quick strikes that weren't flashy but got the job done.
And as the fight continued, it exposed something.
A flaw.
While Chuunin's were far from weak with each of them warriors capable in their own right, their rank wasn't just about their combat skill. A promotion to Chuunin could come from leadership qualities, mission performance, strategic aptitude, or technical knowledge. Not all Chuunin fought the same, and many climbed the ranks without ever truly honing their combat skills. That was the divide between low-level and high-level Chuunin.
This one? He wasn't weak. But he wasn't polished either.
His taijutsu was a blend, with a little bit of the Ten-Ryu Style mixed in, and a little bit of the academy-standard sparring style. It lacked refinement. There was strength, yes. But there was no flow. With little understanding of how to own the space between two fighters.
Kuro, on the other hand…
His movements were quick and tight, like he knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't waste any motion. Every block, every hit, every step had a purpose. He didn't throw punches hoping they'd land, he made sure they would. He controlled the fight with the subtle confidence of someone who was trained to end fights fast.
Watching from behind the one-way glass, Renma's body had straightened without him noticing. His eyes were locked on the fight, and for the first time that day, he looked focused. The fatigue that once draped his face had been peeled away as the fight continued. ' I've never seen a style like that before…' he hummed internally, lips pursed.
Most Taijutsu followed a pattern, either offense with bursts of defense or defense with quick counters. But this kid… he used all three.
Defense. Counter. Offense.
Then back again.
Kuro didn't rush in or try to overpower the Chuunin. He stayed on defense, waited for the right moment, then snapped back with a counter. And just when it seemed like he was done, he pushed forward, forcing his opponent back with steady, calculated offense.
It was like watching a rhythm that kept shifting. That unpredictability made it hard to find an opening in his fighting style. There was no clear pattern with no obvious flaw.
Renma squinted, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was a strange style, one he didn't recognize. And for a Genin to use it this well, this effectively, it was impressive… borderline dangerous. 'He's more than skilled enough to be sponsored…' he thought, already considering it.
But before he could finish the thought, Kuro moved in close and delivered a clean uppercut.
The Chuunin didn't even have time to block.
The hit landed with a loud crack as his body lifted off the floor, thrown clean out of the ring, landing flat and unconscious.
Renma blinked, stunned for a second.
Slowly, Renma shifted his gaze to the side, half-wondering if he was imagining things. But the stunned looks on the faces of the remaining clan representatives told him everything he needed to know, he wasn't the only one seeing this.
Out of the entire evaluation, not a single Genin had managed to push back a Chuunin instructor, let alone defeat one. Sure, the Chuunin here at the Genin Corp weren't the strongest the village had to offer, but they were still Chuunin. They weren't weak. The idea of a Genin knocking one out, flat on his back, no less, was unheard of.
"Just who the hell is this kid…" he muttered, running a hand through his hair as a crooked smile crept across his face.
One thing was certain, he'd found the person he was looking for.
Maybe even more than that.
And judging by the exchanged glances and wide-eyed expressions around the observation deck, the other representatives were thinking the exact same thing.
"I have to get my hands on this kid…" he muttered, his fingers digging into the armrest as a quiet tension built in his posture.
There was no way he was letting someone else get to that boy first...
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Kuro walked with his hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the streets as the fading sun bathed the village in soft orange light. The usual liveliness of Konoha in the evening was all around him, vendors packing up their stalls, the chatter of people heading home, the occasional bark of a dog. But none of it really registered.
His mind was still back at the evaluation.
After the fight ended, they didn't say much, just a simple escort out of the facility, followed by a brief explanation that his evaluation results would be sent through the mail in the next few days.
But Kuro wasn't exactly on edge about it. If anything, he felt... neutral. Not relaxed, but not worried either. 'I'll probably get a bump in rank or maybe better missions... something,' he thought, though deep down he knew that was just him reaching. Realistically, there was no way he was on a Chuunin's level, not yet. That final hit, the one that knocked the instructor out cold, was luck.
Divine luck he'd say.
'If I didn't get that Critical Hit… no chance I would've won. He was pulling his punches the whole time anyway. I was the only one actually fighting like my life depended on it.' Kuro exhaled, quietly frustrated. He didn't like relying on things he didn't understand, let alone things that felt out of his control. The system, whatever it was, had carried him in that final moment. And while it felt good in the moment, walking away from it only made him more aware of how far behind he really was.
'One lucky punch doesn't mean anything. If anything, it just proves how weak I still am.' he turned a corner, the light flickering gold across the rooftops.
But still... he smiled.
Because even if it was just luck..he still won.
He wasn't about to complain, not when bullshit luck had just saved his ass. As he walked, the thought barely had time to settle before a voice called out behind him.
"Are you Kuroshin Kagemura by chance...?"
Kuro came to a stop and turned his head. Standing behind him was a man who looked like he'd walked straight out of a business meeting. His hair was slicked back with gel, not a single strand of hair out of place. He wore a crisp white button-up tucked into black pants, and in one hand, he carried a sleek black briefcase with golden handles.
"...Yeah. That's me. Can I help you?" Kuro replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. The guy didn't look like your usual shinobi, or anyone he recognized, for that matter.
The man cleared his throat and gave a polite, practiced smile. "Well, there's something I'd like to talk to you about..."
He nodded toward the shops up ahead.
"If you don't mind, maybe we could find a place to sit down? Somewhere with food. My treat."
Kuro shrugged like he already knew where this was going. "I don't mind, but I'm broke, so you're gonna have to pay."
The man let out a small chuckle, nodding in agreement. "No problem at all."
They walked in silence after that. With nothing in common and no reason for small talk, it wasn't awkward, just quiet. The kind of quiet that comes when two people are both waiting for the real reason they're meeting to start.
It didn't take long for them to reach a small hotpot restaurant tucked along the corner of a side street. Warm light spilled from the windows, and the smell of broth and grilled meats greeted them as they stepped inside.
After settling into a booth, they placed their orders and let the waiter slip away before either of them spoke again. Now that food was on the way and the table was set, it was time to get down to business.
The man leaned back slightly, resting one arm on the back of the booth while his other hand remained casually near the briefcase. His eyes stayed locked on Kuro. "I'm going to assume you already have an idea why I approached you."
Kuro gave a small nod just as the waiter returned and laid down a plate stacked with neatly arranged cuts of raw meat. The man continued, ignoring the food entirely. "Has anyone else come to speak with you yet? Anyone reach out? Try to offer you something?"
Kuro shook his head. "No. You're the first."
A quiet breath of relief slipped from the man's mouth. His gaze lingered on Kuro's face for a second longer than normal, searching for any sign to see if he was lying. But there wasn't much to read. Kuro's expression stayed neutral, unreadable, sure, but he could tell that Kuro was telling the truth.
"Good," the man said, straightening a little as he reached down and clicked open the briefcase resting beside him. "Because what I saw today... was more than impressive."
Kuro stayed quiet, listening, before picking up a slab of meat with his chopsticks and laying it onto the hot grill,
"I've been to couple of these evaluations before..." the man went on, voice calm but sure, "and very rarely does someone like you show up. You didn't just hold your own against a Chuunin...you beat one."
He paused for effect, folding his hands on the table.
"I want to sponsor you, Kuroshin. And if you accept, I'll make sure you're ready for whatever and have whatever you may need. Missions, weapons, armor, jutsu's...most Genin can't dream of, and a monthly stipend. Everything you'd need to climb the ladder and keep climbing."
Kuro stared at him, watching the meat sizzle. The steam from the grill continued to rise between them like a quiet, invisible wall.
The man leaned forward slightly, voice dropping just enough to feel serious. "You've got talent. But more than that, you've got potential. And with the right backing... you could go far."
Kuro sat in silence for a moment, weighing the offer. Truthfully, he didn't need a sponsor. The system already gave him more than enough, stats, skills, advantages most ninja could only dream of. The man's offer sounded good, but it wasn't life-changing.
Still... there were things he could use.He needed a better place to stay and more importantly, access to higher-ranking missions. The Genin Corp only handed out B-rank missions at best, and even those were rare. If playing along got him that, then maybe it was worth entertaining.
He picked up his chopsticks and flipped one of the meat slices on the grill, watching the edges sizzle before finally speaking. "Alright," he said calmly. "I accept... so what's the catch?" He set the chopsticks down beside his plate, then leaned back slightly and turned to face the man, locking eyes.
The man smiled the moment Kuro accepted, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face. "Glad to hear it," he said, his voice smooth.
He placed his briefcase on the edge of the table and clicked it open with a soft snap. From inside, he pulled out a neat stack of papers, crisp, clean, and likely printed up well before this conversation had even begun. Sliding them just out of reach of the grill, he laid them flat between them.
"This is the contract," he said, tapping the top page lightly. "As your sponsor, whatever you do reflects on us. That means your actions, good or bad, are tied to our name." He flipped the first page for Kuro, revealing the detailed terms. "You'll be required to complete a set number of missions each month. In return, we take 20% of your monthly income from those missions."
Kuro's brow furrowed. "Twenty percent?" he echoed, about to push back.
But the man raised a hand, cutting him off gently. "It's necessary. You'll be given access to everything you need. You'll be in the spotlight, and we'll be footing the bill for a lot of it. The twenty percent is just a way to balance the scales a little."
Kuro leaned back, It didn't sound like a scam, at least not yet. And considering what he stood to gain, it seemed fair enough.
The man then slid the final page forward, turning it so it faced Kuro. "Once you've finished reading it, sign here," he said, tapping the blank signature line with a pen.
Kuro reached for the papers, his eyes scanning the text slowly as the meat on the grill crackled beside them.
The contract itself wasn't overly complicated. Kuro just had to complete a certain number of missions each month. Twenty percent of the income from those missions would go directly to the Kohaku Clan. On top of that, he'd be required to wear the clan's crest at all times, and every mission he wanted to take would need to be reviewed and approved first.
It was a solid offer, but it came with strings and those strings tugged at his freedom more than he liked. Kuro's eyes narrowed slightly as he read over the final line again, his hand hovering just above the signature box. That hesitation lingered. His mind turned over the risks, the benefits, and all the unknowns in between.
Then, without looking up, he asked, "What did you say your name was again?"
Across the table, the man had been quietly focused on Kuro's hand, watching it like it was about to make him rich. The sudden question snapped him out of it. "Oh… Renma Kohaku," he replied, sitting up straighter as a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips.
That name, specifically his last name rang somewhere in the back of Kuro's mind, like a whisper he couldn't quite catch. It tugged at something faint, but not enough to piece it together. He let out a small sigh and set the pen down beside the paper.
"Well, I appreciate the food and the offer," Kuro said, offering a polite smile, "but I'm gonna have to respectfully pass."
Renma's expression shifted, his grin flattening as confusion crept in. "But… I thought you agreed?" he asked, brows pinched slightly.
Kuro only gave a light shrug, reaching out to grab one of the grilled pieces of meat with his chopsticks and biting into it. "I did… before I actually read the contract and it doesn't sit right with me," he said casually, still chewing.
Renma leaned forward, skimming through the pages again. "If it's the 20%, we can renegotiate that," he offered quickly. "Everything here's flexible...we can adjust it to your liking."
Finishing his bite, Kuro stood up, brushing off his hands. "It's not about the cut. I just don't like being tied down by contracts. Thought I could overlook it for the perks, but… I'm good. I don't need the help anyway."
He gave a small nod and turned toward the door. "Thanks for the meal, though."
"Wa..Wait!" Renma called after him, half-rising from his seat.
But Kuro ignored Renma as he stepped out of the restaurant without looking back, the warm scent of grilled food left behind as the door swung shut behind him.
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