And just like that, the month of training passed in a flash.
Thirty days under the Hokage's direct tutelage had reshaped them all. The trio that once walked into that quiet training room had been replaced by something sharper, faster, and more refined. The lessons came daily, and none of them were simple.
Stealth, history, advanced ninjutsu theory, deception, chakra flow refinement, elemental balance, leadership training, field tactics—Hiruzen Sarutobi had given them everything he could in the time allotted. More than one lesson left them drained, bruised, and questioning their limits. But through it all, they endured.
Now, they stood in a clearing near the village edge, morning light breaking through the treetops.
Sayaka stretched her arms overhead and exhaled with a grin. "It feels like I learned more in a month than I did in my whole life."
"That's because you probably did," Tokasu replied, his arms crossed but a rare smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "The Hokage doesn't mess around."
Yuki leaned against a tree, silent. His blade rested in its sheath, held loosely in his hand. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. Everything in his posture said control, confidence, readiness. He looked relaxed—almost too relaxed.
Today was special. Not only had they survived the month, they had earned their Hidden Leaf forehead protectors. The polished metal plates gleamed faintly in the sunlight, each now tied proudly around their necks or arms. Officially, they were shinobi.
Or so they thought.
Sayaka bounced lightly on her toes. "So, when's this new sensei showing up? Think he's gonna be like the Hokage? Strict and wise? Or like, silent and scary?"
Tokasu shrugged. "Honestly, at this point, nothing would surprise me."
High above them, hidden among the leafy canopy, Takeshi Kanzaki crouched silently on a thick branch, watching. His amber eyes were narrowed, his presence completely suppressed.
They looked… exposed. Standing in the open, chatting like civilians. Easy to kill.
Tch, he thought. Too careless. They've been trained, but they haven't lived yet.
Sayaka looked the most energetic. Tokasu was composed, calm. But Yuki—
Takeshi's eyes locked onto him.
He looked the most relaxed, the most disengaged—and yet… Takeshi narrowed his gaze.
That's a front. He's waiting. Watching.
"Interesting," Takeshi muttered.
Just then, Yuki's head tilted up.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then, in a blur of speed and displaced air, Takeshi body flickered from the treetop.
He landed between them with a sharp clap.
CLAP!
Sayaka yelped and stumbled back.
Tokasu instinctively dropped into a defensive stance.
Yuki didn't flinch. He blinked once. Nothing more.
"Good morning," Takeshi said, hands now calmly behind his back. "I see you've all grown comfortable. That's dangerous."
Sayaka scowled. "You trying to give us a heart attack?"
Takeshi ignored the question. "Let's do introductions likes dislikes and your dream. . I'll start. Takeshi Kanzaki—your new team leader. I like discipline. I dislike wasted time. I believe a ninja should be sharp even when sleeping, and that the moment you think you're safe is the moment you're most vulnerable."
He paused. "Now, you."
Sayaka brightened, placing her fists on her hips with a confident grin. "Sayaka Senju," she declared. "I like training, punching things, ramen—especially miso—and winning. Lots of winning."
She paused, then scratched the back of her head with a sheepish chuckle. "I guess I'm still working on the 'thinking ahead' part though. Planning's not really my thing. I usually just hit the problem until it goes away."
Her grin faded slightly, replaced with something quieter in her eyes. "But… I'm trying to get better. Smarter. Not just stronger. I want to be someone people can rely on—not just for a fight, but for everything."
She straightened again quickly, as if catching herself getting too serious. "Anyway! That's me. Hit first, figure the rest out later."
Tokasu stepped forward, hands calmly folded behind his back. His voice was low and measured, almost as if he were reciting something he'd rehearsed—but meant every word.
"Tokasu Nara," he said. "I prefer silence, logic, and strategy. I dislike unnecessary drama. Or shouting. Or people who act before they think."
His gaze drifted upward for a moment, watching a breeze rustle through the trees before continuing.
"I like puzzles. And maps. And knowing more than I let on. My dad always said a shinobi's greatest weapon is the five seconds their opponent underestimates them."
There was a pause. His eyes briefly flicked to Yuki, then Sayaka.
"I've been underestimated a lot."
He shrugged, casually.
"That's fine. It gives me space to plan."
He stepped back into line with the others, his face unreadable—but the way he held himself said enough.
Yuki shifted his weight slightly, the hilt of his sword resting comfortably in his hand. His expression was unreadable—calm, composed, but with something colder beneath the surface.
"My name… is Yuki Kazanari," he said quietly, his voice sharp and steady. "I hate a lot of things. And I don't particularly like anything."
Sayaka blinked.
"I'm not here because I want to be the strongest or to chase some far-off dream."
He looked up, meeting Takeshi's gaze directly.
"What I have isn't a dream… because I will make it reality."
There was silence. Even the wind seemed to still for a moment.
Sayaka glanced sideways at him. "Uh… okay, edgy much?" she muttered under her breath, though not unkindly.
Tokasu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He didn't say anything—but the look he gave Yuki wasn't judgment. It was interest. He was trying to figure the boy out, like a puzzle just starting to reveal its shape.
Takeshi, however, didn't flinch. If anything, he looked faintly impressed beneath the flat stoicism.
He nodded once, slowly.
"Fine," he said. "You're at least more tolerable than the last brats I taught."
Sayaka blinked again, caught off guard. "Wait—you taught before?"
"Focus," Takeshi said flatly. He reached into his flak jacket and pulled out two small silver bells.
"Today's test is simple."
He let the bells dangle between his fingers. "One hour. Try to take these bells from me. Anyone who fails… loses their status as a shinobi."
All three of them froze.
"What?" Sayaka asked, baffled. "We already graduated. We have our headbands!"
Takeshi's eyes sharpened. "You're provisional shinobi. The headband means nothing to me. I can revoke it right now. Only those who pass my test earn the right to keep it."
Tokasu frowned. "That's not exactly standard."
Takeshi smirked. "No. But it's effective."
He looked down at the bells. "Only two of you will pass. One fails."
Yuki's lips twitched—just barely.
He recognized this setup immediately, how could he not?
Sayaka turned to him. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Yuki said. "Just... looking forward to this."
Takeshi flicked the bells once more. The chime was crisp, clean—like a knife being unsheathed.
Minato, he thought. You really were a bastard for this little game.
He moved.
In an instant, he was in front of Sayaka, arm cocked to strike. She yelped, eyes going wide—but just barely managed to twist her body out of the way. The air hissed as his fist passed her shoulder.
Takeshi smirked.
He'd pulled the punch, of course. If he hadn't, she'd be out cold.
Still, not bad.
Sayaka skid back a few feet, fists clenched, breathing fast.
That's when the other two moved.
Yuki was gone first, vanishing in a blur into the surrounding forest.
Tokasu slipped into the shadows behind a tree, already forming a plan.
Sayaka glanced at both sides—hesitating for a split second—then darted toward the opposite clearing.
Takeshi watched them scatter, his expression darkening.
"Tch."
They had moved like trained shinobi, yes. But the choice they made—splitting up?
Wrong.
Minato told me the same thing years ago. If they don't work as a team… they fail.
"What the hell is with this guy?" Sayaka muttered, breath puffing as she slowed behind a thick tree trunk.
She crouched low, chakra pulsing faintly around her fists. Her heart was still hammering from that opening move.
"Scares the hell out of us, then just bam—throws a punch at me like it's nothing. I just met the guy!"
She pressed her back to the bark, biting her lower lip.
"And what's with this test? Only two of us get to pass? That's complete bull. He has no right to take our ninja status away. No right."
She looked down at her hands.
"I'm not failing here," she whispered. "I won't. I need one of those bells."
Farther away, nestled among roots and foliage, Tokasu was already working.
"Opening with a frontal assault… not bad," he mumbled to himself. "He wanted to see our reactions."
He sat still, eyes flicking from branch to branch as he analyzed the layout. The area was wide and full of cover, but also ripe for ambush.
Can I get a bell on my own? Probably not. Even with shadows... he's too fast.But if I can figure out the pattern in his movements... maybe.
He reached into his pouch, pulling out a string of chakra tags.
"This is going to take more than just ninjutsu."
The forest held its breath.
Sayaka was muttering under hers, fists tight with emotion. Tokasu was plotting, pieces already moving in his head. And yet neither noticed the signs around them.
The sudden hush.
The flock of crows.
Silent shapes, black and watchful, perched high in the trees, wings tucked and heads cocked. Their eyes didn't blink.
One, two, three… ten.
Watching.
Waiting.
And then—
A rustle in the branches. A shift in the air. And Yuki, hidden in the trees above them, calm, patient.
His breathing slow. His posture steady.
He raised one hand.
Two fingers extended—forming a silent sign.
A jutsu.
The wind carried the faintest shimmer of cold.
And then—