Chapter 4

Fire Country
Ryoma, Recently Promoted Ninja

There was always a great deal of danger when it came to interacting with other ninja, doubly so when interacting with ninja that were from theoretically neutral parties. Enemy ninja were easy, both parties are well aware of the mutual hostility, and know that any attempt to falsely claim otherwise would fall on deaf ears. When you come across an enemy, they are your enemy. The only trickery you’re going to see is combat-trickery.

When you come across an ally, they’re probably your ally, but they might be an enemy too. You needed to trust them to a certain extent just for basic civilization to even function, but it was important to occasionally verify that they were indeed your ally. Usually with the occasional firm slap on the back to dispel any illusion and in-jokes that only the two of you knew of. That wasn’t perfectly reliable, but it was good enough to manage most of the time.

When you come across someone neutral, there’s almost no way to tell if they’re actually an ally or are merely pretending for the sake of pulling off some trick or sabotage later. Basic shinobi tactics 101 here, ‘pretend to be nice and then stab them’ was the easiest trick in the book.

That ‘client’ of theirs? Could be some kunoichi under a transformation-illusion right now. Those ‘genin’? The same. That Jonin leading them, those servants accompanying them, the cart, the bags of stuff?

It was entirely possible that all of that was just war material ready to blow them all back to the stone age.

However, stressing out about all of that was something you really couldn’t do and stay sane, so the best answer was just to have a plan to kill them if you needed to, watch for anything suspicious, and then don’t worry about it beyond that.

So it was decided that they would work together by splitting the jobs up. Suna would handle one side of the little caravan, Konoha would handle the other side, and two people would always be awake during the night-watch, one from both factions. With that little bit of mutual paranoia sorted out, they were able to head out with relatively casual interactions.

“Sand-Ninja! Come up here~”

“I’d rather not!” He called out without looking behind him, walking along the forwards-right side of the caravan, opposite of the Konoha Jonin. Gaku Inuzuka, ‘Longclaws’ for the pair of tantos he carried around and the wind-blade technique he used to extend their reach. When combined with his talents for those Inuzuka clan techniques and occasional genjutsu, the man was fucking threat in close-range.

If Ryoma let himself get into melee range with the guy, he’d probably die in an instant. Those chakra-blades would cut right through his puppetarmor and he didn’t have many counters to ‘I am now a giant wind-drill’ or ‘I am now two giant wind-drills’. The fatal weakness of a close-range specialist was that they would still be hurt if they accidentally ran into a bomb. A bomb like one of his bolters.

It was a little bit awkward to be fighting alongside a guy he exploded a bolter on, but they were both professional enough to not let the recent war get in the way of getting the job done.

Currently, the fucker was grinning at him, distinctly amused by the unwanted attentions of the noblewoman behind them.

“I have need of you!”

“What a tragedy.” He called back, calmly scanning the treeline and winding shores as they walked along the road down to Tea Country. It was a slightly less robust road that the great desert blocks down in Wind Country, just a simple road of packed soil and framed by grasses, but it was good enough to have no issues overland.

“Hmpf. Ikeda, command him over here.”

The Lady Ikeda was too busy giggling on the platform next to her friend, unable to get out any proper words.

“You’re awfully popular with the ladies, huh Braggart?” Gaku chuckled over at him, chewing on a bit of gum.

“Well I got cursed by an evil witch one hundred years ago- I think that might be what’s doing it.” He explained blandly, rolling a hand as he spoke. “She turned me into a handsome skeleton, the ladies can’t resist a beautiful corpse.”

“A hundred years ago, huh?” Gaku raised his eyebrows high enough to disappear behind his headband.

“About that, yeah.” He nodded. “A real evil looking witch too, with green skin and tangled hair. She pointed a big crinkled finger at me and zap- that was it.”

“Hm. I’ll have to be on the lookout for this witch then.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, she’s dead.”

“She’s dead?”

“Yeah, she ate a bad shrimp thirty years ago and died.” He shook his head. “It was a real tragedy, she had a large family. The funeral was this big elaborate affair over in Noodle Country.”

“I- Is this real?” One of the Genin finally spoke up, the girl he was pretty sure was a very young Kurenai Yuuhi. Black hair, red eyes, about as old as he was. He could see a bit of the aesthetic signatures in her outfit that would eventually evolve into what she would be wearing a decade from now. Right now she was looking at him with a somewhat concerned and baffled expression.

“Pft- No.”

That expression immediately twisted into a reproachful cringe and sighing disappointment. Ryoma let out a few hissing chuckles, matched by the bark of laughter from Longclaws Gaku.

“Kurenai, why did you believe that for even a moment?” Another one of the Genin, the one with the red bandana on his face and sleepy eyes, asked from slightly further back.

“I- because- He kept going!” Kurenai waved her hands around, gesturing at him. “If it was- it was the most pointless lie I’ve ever heard- why would anyone lie about that?!”

“Funny.” Ryoma answered, eyes narrowing amusedly when she turned back to give a huffish glare at him. “Hey, Longclaws, your Genin is kinda gullible.”

“I know, I’ll have to work on that.” Gaku nodded, ignoring the red-eyed glare now turned towards the back of his head.

All in all, the mission looked like it was going to be smooth sailing. He’d never say that aloud, of course, no need to tempt fa-

“Pft, looks like this mission is gonna be smooth sailing.” The last Genin, someone he could only assume was a young Asuma Sarutobi, huffed out in an amused fashion. “The biggest threat is Kurenai losing her temper on us.”

Ryoma turned a blank stare towards the genin, maintaining it long enough for the kid to get bothered and glance around.

“I- yeah?” He asked, swallowing and trying to maintain a stare.

Ryoma let out a long sigh. “Right, your Genin jinxed us Longclaws. What do you think- Multiple A-rank enemies or one S-rank?”

“Army of B-ranks.” The Konoha Jonin responded immediately, shaking his head. “It’d be too easy for us to buy time and let the Genin escape with the client if it was just a few high rankers.”

“That sounds about right.” He grumbled, reaching up to adjust his straw hat.

Asuma, for his part, seemed to realize what he had done wrong soon after they started talking, and now had a dreadful expression on his face. He reached up a hand to rub the back of his neck, and avoided the little glares that his fellow Genin were giving him.

—

“I’m glad you’re making new friends, but that’s no reason to ignore me, yanno?”

He looked up from his book, Icha Icha Kingdoms, a thrilling tale of daring action and romance between fem-fatale rivals from opposed kingdoms and their clashing over a terminally ill prince that both of them maintained affections for. He hadn’t read until the end yet, but from the looks of it he was guessing a threesome or a slug-match to the death.

For a guy who was writing erotica, the author was pretty good about keeping you on your toes. He wasn’t sure what level of quality he was expecting from the infamous series, but it was some pretty dang good stuff.

He looked at his partner, leaned over towards him with hands on her hips, and raised his brows. “I’ve been ignoring you?” He asked blandly, putting the book away and focusing on her.

“Yep!” Mari declared, forcing him over and sitting down on the log next to him. “If you’re not going to be on lookout, then you can at least be talking to your partner!”

“I am on lookout.” He raised hand and wiggled his fingers, reminding her that he was in-fact a puppeteer, and could see through the eyes of his currently deployed bolters. “I may look like just a normal strikingly handsome jonin, but I’m actually a pretty good multitasker too.”

“No one can tell what you look like! All I can see is your eyes behind that mask!” Mari teased, jabbing him in the side with her thumb.

“And I have strikingly handsome eyes.” He gave an exaggerated series of nods to emphasize the statement.

“With how long your lashes are? You got girly eyes, Ryoma.” She chuckled, leaning over and withdrawing her own ration-pack. A bunch of riceballs for dinner, it seemed.

He snorted, pulling out his own rations. A puff of smoke later, and he was holding an immense platter of assorted hibachi meats, grilled vegetables, fried rice, and so on.

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“W-where did you get that?” Mari asked, lowering her riceballs and staring at the delightful meal he was carrying.

“From the seaview innhouse.” He replied, pulling out a set of chopsticks and plopping a grilled chunk of steak into his mouth. It was still warm- there was nowhere for the heat to escape to while in a storage seal, but there was definitely a sort of taste difference. The meat had been soaking in its own juices in there, so everything was a bit softer and homogenous. Still better than a microwave though. “There was a customer in there that they threw out for being rude, but it was after they finished cooking his meal. They let me have the rest.”