Chapter 19: Fault Of Expectation
Nagisa slowly opened her eyes, quietly looking around her apartment for anything life-threatening. She tried her best to see all corners of the room without moving from her position. If there was someone else in the building, they wouldn't know she was awake until she was standing over their corpse with a lamp. She noted that everything was in place just as she left it, then allowed herself a tired stretch to get the residual sleep out of her system.
There was one problem. She didn't feel like there was any strain left in her joints. That could only mean that she was well rested, which indicated that she overslept.
It wasn't something that normal people would make a fuss over but she hadn't overslept in half a decade. Her mind usually kick started itself whenever she was comfortable for too long. So sleeping well was an alien occurrence. Not to mention how coincidental it was for her biological clock to malfunction.
Why was it that she overslept on the night after a long, grueling, physically exhausting mission. Where she fully expended the limits of her combat ability against a challenging opponent.
Oh well maybe the nap was warranted.
After all she was required to do more hand to hand than the other members of her cell. So, the momentary lapse in her drive was understandable. She could at least extend forgiveness to herself this time around.
However, Nagisa knew better and would not leave it up to cause and effect.
All good Konoha-nin knew that moments of tranquility were when the enemy chose to strike. Nagisa, being a well-trained shinobi, had righter than anyone to be paranoid. For one she was always timely, even without sleep. No matter how tiresome she was the night before she would wake up at the crack of dawn, ready for what was ahead.
So naturally she had to investigate.
She kicked at her bedsheets and rolled off the side, dulling the sound of her feet with chakra.
Nagisa made her way towards the washroom and pushed through the door in hopes that she surprised any stowaways. To her luck no one was there. She scowled at the lack of an opponent. The washroom was also just as she left it. Nagisa could admit a slight sense of disappointment as she pulled the door shut. After headbutting that fire bandits' right hand, she was on a silent quest of beating something to death.
After being provoked of course.
She walked over to the kitchen contemplating if there was any external force, that would somehow benefit from her sleeping longer than usual.
She chuckled to herself.
That just made her suspicion sound even more ridiculous.
Who would want her as a bargaining chip. She had no grueling secrets; she wasn't fueled by vengeance and everyone she loved was dead or too irrelevant to put her in danger. So, she wasn't going to be used in exchange for anything, but just in case...
"Kai," Nagisa bit out forcing chakra through a tiger seal. She looked around and noted that there was no change in her environment.
Maybe she was more exhausted than she thought.
Her cell did clear two countries within the span of twelve hours, and she did complete a series of shunshin with her lackluster control. Maybe the unfamiliar over extension left her with far less chakra than her body was used to. Forcing her into what she would consider hibernation.
Nagisa decided that she'd done enough to evaluate any external manipulation and opened her fridge.
Due to the circumstances of the cell's last mission, they would all be inactive for a week. Nagisa accepted the week with silent appreciation. For one she would be able to put a lot more waking hours into working on her technique. Sure, she could stand toe to toe with a semi-skilled bandit, but she could tell that her taijutsu as it stood did little for her defense.
Her sore forehead said that much.
So, she would spend most of the week drilling herself on defensive forms. After breakfast she'd entice Kobaru into hauling his best attacks at her. The little battery pack would kill for the opportunity to get a hit on her.
She took a carton of milk then climbed onto her countertop to grab her cereal. Sure, she felt for more than wheat bran drenched in dairy, but meal preparation would take time that she didn't feel like wasting.
Nagisa slowly opened her cabinet door prepared for the worst. This specific door had fallen of a couple of weeks prior, and she neglected to have the thing fixed properly. Opting to leave it hanging off an overworked hinge and screw. She smirked at her luck. As it appeared the hinge had a few more uses left before it completely unscrewed itself and dropped off.
She poured herself a bowl and decided to have her meal while still perched on her countertop. Calmly having cereal as she replayed her performance during the fortunate turn of events that became the end of her mission. Nagisa was very pleased with the attack that they sustained. Even more so with her group's handling of the situation. They could not have reacted better.
Chusei's leadership was infallible, Bukijutsu genin's weaponry manipulation and exploding tag distribution was entertaining. Even Kobaru's supply of fake hims was appreciated as an expendable distraction.
The only thing that bothered her was the hit she took.
She wasn't as well versed in that art of sustaining damage. Even after spending five years sparring with her peers. The last time she took a hit that hurt, was from flying debris... During a war.
Maybe the bandit's strike was avoidable. Could she have recoiled her attack faster to avoid getting clocked in the forehead? Should she have worn her forehead protector properly? Most importantly, Who the hell is teaching bandits how to fight and blow themselves up?
Iwa. It had to be them, no other people were both developed and savage enough to turn other individuals into bombs. Not to mention the collection of forehead protectors. People were actively living off bounties alone. How was the economy in Earth Country surviving the payment for them?
A lot of this didn't make sense.
Much of it had to do with politics that Nagisa couldn't understand.
An exploding bandit was one thing, an entire nation's financial stability was another.
Why the hell would Mr. Hayazuki stop the Kusa bandit from killing them? When he eventually spread word of their whereabouts to a different group of bandits. Even worse he nicked money off Chusei for his shitty book of socio-political allegories. A book that she was yet to finish reading.
Nagisa felt something run down her spine.
It wasn't a chill, she was sure.
It wasn't delight either, for one her cereal was almost expired and tasted of cardboard.
So, by rule of deduction. It was her sixth sense, her incredibly accurate paranoia. Something that hadn't failed her before so it would be completely useless if it decided to fail her now.
Nagisa looked back at the cupboard door and observed the thing carefully. She was sure that this would be the last swing that it could handle before dropping off the hinge.
It was a shot in the dark and she would need to consider psychological intervention if she was wrong. Yet she was compelled to give the thing a minute of her time.
The genin opened the door again with the same care and to her surprise it didn't fall off. She looked closer at the screw and noticed damage to the drive. Sure, it wasn't in great condition due to her hammering it into the hole with her sandals, but the damage to the head of the screw was different because of her lack of a better tool. As a matter of fact, the screw looked better now, than it did after she was done with it. The imprint for the drive had somehow fixed its deformation. Sure, it wasn't fresh out of the factory quality, but better than how it was when she smashed it over the head.
That could only mean that someone used the appropriate screwdriver to put it back in place. Which further confirmed her suspicion that someone was in her apartment while she slept.
Could it be another genin in the barracks breaking in to steal while she was away?
What is it that they could want from her?
The only thing that she had that couldn't be bought for pocket change was her pillow. Anyone looking to steal a pillow would go straight for the bed.
I couldn't be Mr. Hayazuki's scroll.
Nagisa slipped off the countertop and walked over to her fridge. Watching it carefully to make out any noticeable differences. The small white refrigerator was exactly as she left it.
At least it looked the same on the outside.
She swallowed hard at what her suspicion was leading her to do, then pulled the refrigerator door open.
There was no way. They couldn't have known about it. She sure as hell didn't mention it. Maybe one of the others did in their reports. Even then it was just literature, surely, they wouldn't confiscate it. Not that she would draw inspiration from it and kill everyone in the village.
She shifted the first shelf of the fridge then peeled off the rack it was placed on, taking her time to not disturb the adhesive she used to keep it in place. Behind the rack she revealed a pocket just about four inches long and half an inch wide. Big enough that she could place a sheet of paper through, yet small enough that anything bigger than her hand would result in further damage to the pocket.
The cutout appeared to be in an expected condition as there were any noticeable tampering.
Nagisa removed the sheet and channeled a spike of chakra through it.
Out from the seal dropped Mr. Hayazuki's scroll and out from her lung a lengthy sigh of relief.
Maybe she was tired and overreacting to a useless detail. Her mind had more than likely exaggerated the condition of the screw anyway. How impressive would it have been if she figured out that her home was infiltrated because someone used the right tool to fix her cupboard door. Accidently fixing a screw in the process.
How ridiculous would that be?
There was a higher chance that some insane handyman was going around Konoha, breaking into people's homes and fixing the most minute thing. The scroll still being in the seal was sufficient proof that she needed to loosen up a bit.
She smiled to herself and unfurled the document. An act that quickly drained the warmth from her face.
With the scroll in hand, she could confirm that they didn't take anything. What they did was break in, find the scroll and replace the story with Konoha's revised version all while she was asleep. To make things even more unsettling she could barely tell. Thankfully the book had so many allegories for village conspiracies and propaganda. That if you were looking to sensor it, you would have to change too much information for it to go unnoticed.
From her knowledge this scroll was missing its original prologue and the second paragraph was removed altogether.
She silently thanked her past self for not revealing to her cell that she read the first few chapters. Otherwise, she would have no actual proof that someone was in her apartment.
She silently hoped that they had the revised version on standby in hopes that someone had a raw copy. As having them revise and replace it, all while she was asleep. Wasn't a very pleasing fact to have internalized.
Nagisa's blood ran cold at the thought. If they so wanted to, they could package and sell her to the highest bidder. She wouldn't have known until she woke up in a box heading south.
How was she sedated? Why didn't they just ask her for it?
She'd give it up without a second thought.
After reading it of course.
Which was more than likely why they didn't ask.
What she needed right now was someone else with whom she could discuss such a strange issue. Capture a new perspective on the situation, but most importantly. She needed to find out which of her soon to be former friends saw the purchase of a cheap book as report worthy. Not that she was angry, Nagisa was simply too aware to give in to such a useless emotion. All she wanted to do was pat the perpetrator on the head.
With a kick.
XxX
Nohara was a grown man who considered himself a mature individual. So, he believed that he had a realistic hold on his emotions. Yet, he could admit, that if he was allowed to review the genin mission reports in the privacy of his home. After reading the first one he would have already given up hope and gone out hunting the four idiots that were the source of his disdain.
Nohara spent months watching Chusei rally people around himself to increase the odds of his success. It was a leadership trait that took the forefront when the boy was under enough pressure. Months seeing the brat pull decisive reasoning out of his ass to ensure the group didn't embarrass themselves and the higher ranks respected him for it. Unfortunately, this led them to forget that the boy was as dumb as a bucket of bricks.
Sure, the mission was sketchy and riddled with administrative errors, but Nohara did not expect his genin lead genin team to ice the shit cake with a technicality.
It was less embarrassing to die than it was to pass a mission on subjective reasoning. So, he knew once he got his hands on Chusei, the carrot topped Neanderthal wouldn't be able to realign his bearings with the beating he would endure.
Until then Nohara would absorb the document in hopes that he could somehow put together a suitable defense on their behalf. It was with great regret that he took this responsibility, as the more he read, the more he found reasons to grill the entire group.
Kobaru's mission report was likened more to a journal entry as he went into subjective detail of everything that he saw. Even taking up an entire page at the end to note ways in which Konoha could develop its infrastructure. Chusei refused to punctuate and only reported what occurred while the group was on the move. Nagisa was perfect until she couldn't remember the name of the fourth genin. Instead, she wrote the bukijutsu genin eleven times.
Even then he couldn't place much blame on the girl. As her two other friends, cat eyes and carrot, wrote fourth genin and temp genin respectively. They spent near a week trekking across the continent with the other boy and uniformly agreed not to remember his name. What made this even more ironic, was that the unnamed had a better report than all three of them.
It was almost as though the trio were making a conscious effort to get on Nohara's nerves.
If they were, then it worked tremendously well.
Well, enough, that he could barely keep his thoughts in line to argue in their defense. As matter of fact, he was one error away from handing them over for disciplinary action. This was more an attempt at abandoning responsibility for the genin's actions. It would only get harder to defend the group when the biggest error came of their own volition.
They would be hard pressed to find a jonin that could defend abandonment of the client. Especially when their only excuse would be that the client requested that we depart.
All he could think about telling the Hokage, was that the administrator's faults resulted in a ripple effect, which eventually lead to his genin's shortcomings. If they knew Mr. Hayazuki to be a prisoner sentenced to death by the daimyo, maybe they would have treated him as such.
Sadly, that was the only thing he could think of, and he could practically hear the old man countering his statement. The hard glare meeting him from across the desk said that much.
Nohara decided to cut his reading short out of fear that he would find something capable of shattering his countenance. He looked up at the Hokage through a narrowed glare and decided to go straight into what would be a very tense meeting. The old man was angry, and he did little to make Nohara feel welcomed. This only added to the jonin's distress. His only hope resided in a swift meeting so he could be on his way.
He let out a sigh and silently reigned in his discomfort.
"I will see to it that these genin are drilled extensively on documenting reports," he decided he would go straight to the end of the argument. Hopefully that could be enough to get the red hat into a somber enough mood, "Furthermore I will reiterate the importance of following the contract highlighted prior to them leaving the village."
There was no response. Almost as though the jonin was being ignored.
Nohara never liked the loving grandfather act that the man put on for children of all ages. Everyone under the sun knew that he was the most efficient killer in the Land of Fire. Why hide it? Instead, he wanted to pretend to be a family figure while being the public representation of assassins.
It made no sense.
Yet whenever Nohara was due a verbal dismantling from his esteemed leader. There were moments that he wished that he didn't take the man's kindness for granted. Silently hoping that the red hat could extend some of his grandpa treatment to the forty-two-year-old, as opposed to being handled as a trained circus animal.
This was one of those moments.
The old man nodded and took a lengthy drag from his kiseru. Effectively burning through its contents in one draw. He then puffed the lungful worth of tobacco smoke across the table at his subordinate.
With that Nohara confirmed that the man was about to bring forth ten years' worth of controlled rage in the form of a verbal onslaught. He slowed his breathing and let out a second sigh in anticipation of what was to come.
The Hokage held his eyebrows taut as he slowly motioned to a wooden tray at the corner of his desk. The jonin watched patiently as the man knocked the neck against a wooden bowl to empty the ash. He then held his hand out and the ANBU from the corner of the room quickly dropped a small bag in his palm.
He took a pinch of tobacco out of it and stuffed it into the bowl of his pipe, taking short pulls as he did so. The silence in the room amplifying the soft smacking of his lips as he sucked air through the wooden frame. A second pinch of crushed up leaves proved sufficient as he followed it up by lifting a glowing yellow finger and setting the contents alight.
It was an excruciating process to observe, especially when you knew of the inevitable dressing down that would follow it.
Another healthy drag of the pipe as he filled what appeared to be three different lungs with tobacco. Once again, he burnt it out in one draw and spat the smoke at the jonin sitting in front of him.
Said jonin sat with his breath held. Trying his best to not get any of the secondhand smoke into his system.
"How many genin do the reserves have left?"
Nohara swallowed as he was not proud of the lives, he was able to preserve.
This was without a doubt the worst class he had produced in over twenty years of being a jonin sensei. Only fifteen students left, in times that were supposed to be peaceful. Fifteen survived when he was supposed to be a much more experienced educator. This was his tenth class and he only managed to keep half of what he started with.
He remembered his first class and the seven students that were left from forty-two. He remembered how he vowed to himself that he would never allow young lives to meet violence unprepared ever again. He succeeded in keeping that promise for nine classes. What could have led to him failing miserably now.
His shoulders slumped even further when he realized that this was the first time, he was ever required to state his losses out loud. They would usually meet the issue with a wordless reverence for the lives lost. Now he was being asked to give his failure verbal representation.
He swallowed again, fighting a sudden dryness in his throat.
He locked eyes with the red hat, relaxing the muscles in his face to appear unfazed by the uneasy feeling he was getting. He carefully sucked in a breath, doing little to placate the shake in his jaw and began mouthing his planned statement.
"I have five cells left. Our number has been cut down by half. Eleven have lost their lives and four have resigned."
"Hm," the old man nodded then tightened his eyebrows as he leveled his jonin, "Raichi do you remember what I said to you when I put you back in charge of the reserves?"
He nodded.
"Speak boy."
Nohara licked his lips and straightened up in his seat. He hoped that some random genin would fall from the ceiling and grant him a cheap escape. The red hat always radiated calm once there were lower ranks involved. A pity no genin would find themselves in such an embarrassing position on purpose.
Maybe Chusei would be up for the task.
Nohara shot a glance at the ceiling and quickly gave up hope when it didn't cave in on itself. He was truly on his own this time around.
Being at the mercy of the man who controlled your financial security was one thing, but being at the mercy of a man who could kill you without breaking a sweat was another.
"You said that the village needs both quality and quantity. Emphasis on quantity. Me, having consistently produced Chunin level genin within months over the years. I was selected to take on a tenth class," Nohara said engaging in what could only be an impromptu staring contest.
Nohara took solace in the chance that the man wasn't angry at him. That the jonin just so happened to be the first person he was meeting with after an argument with his advisors. That maybe the loss of his wife, his most prolific student and the attack on the outpost accumulated enough force to push him over the edge. All the problems he'd silently endured over the last three years were finally breaking the old man.
Hopefully that was the case, because it was the only thing stopping his instincts from going for the shuriken sealed on his inner wrist.
"And?"
"You said that you had continued faith in my ability to complete both requirements in a manner most beneficial to the village."
"So, you do remember," The red hat nodded then cleared his throat, "then tell me, "He paused to empty his pipe, "which part of that statement translates to persuading five genin to take an early retirement."
Nohara stifled his reaction. He had almost forgotten that he advised the retirement of the genin with family. He successfully got all but Kobaru to agree and had written it off as a minor facet. As it had happened almost two months prior. Usually, he would be in a meeting hearing his faults on repeat the moment he made such a bold decision.
"I didn't want to bring it up to you, because I know you're great at spotting talent, but that could have been two extra cells out there being put to work," he paused to scrutinize the jonin who sat stiffly in the chair, "and those that you actually agreed to put to work. A cell lost their client, and the others abandoned the mission. I'm not even going to mention those four idiots in charge of Hayazuki."
Nohara continued his passive protest of silence. Sure, he wasn't proud of what his genin had accomplished but it hurt to hear someone berating them. After all, if they were shit, by extension, he was also shit.
"Those four were supposed to be the best in the reserves. Yet they let a high-profile prisoner update the terms while on their way to the drop off. Best my ass. The Factory's producing nothing but imbeciles if that's the case," he spat as though he hated the taste of those words in his mouth. A tinge of discomfort with his thoughts marring his wrinkled features. He quickly doubled down on his decision to keep his statement as raw as possible.
"Raichi you have a descendant of two whirlpool clans and the last known practitioner of the art of eight limbs. It's a fucking wet dream, how the hell are you messing this up?"
Still no reaction. An act that was doing more bad than good for the old man clearly upset with the outcome of the reserve's first C-rank.
"You're known for making better shinobi than this. Is it that you need more time off. Head to the southern islands on vacation to mourn?" he asked clearly not expecting an answer, "cause the only thing that's changed between now and your last class is that your daughter died. Is that the thing affecting your decision making?"
The room fell silent, and Nohara's eyes took up interest in the rug ignoring the brief spike in chakra that came from the ANBU in the corner. Almost as though they expected him to just lunge at the old man like some rabid dog.
For a while he lived with the anticipation of someone bringing up the death of his daughter to toy with him. Silently he hoped that he was never ready for it and would have beaten the first jackass who had the balls to do it. That was the only fitting response to such a tactless comment.
After two years of looking for reason to act out, he appeared to run out of the motivation necessary to enact his attack. As in that moment his first thought was to leave the office and head North-East for the Hidden Waterfall. Leave Konoha and not utter another word to anyone in it. Not that he'd be leaving anything behind anyway.
Every person he'd ever cared for, moved on to the next plain of existence. No one was left so there would be no one to truly miss his presence.
The remaining embers of his rage were the only things keeping his thoughts balanced. He was infuriated enough that he could picture himself beating the old man to death with his ash tray. Yet he was calm enough to leave it at that. A control he realized was wavering as he continued to play the statement over in his head.
He needed to distract himself from the cause of his sudden uneasiness. Shifting completely to the way that it affected him. An attempt to break it down for himself. Increase his chances of not ruining the little joy he had left.
Having his mind rush through the three possible futures ignoring his urge to react. Steeling his resistance every time he gave himself reason to be angry.
The silent back and forth in his mind somehow lead to him convincing himself, that his life was still valued by others. That he had fifteen more children that would be most affected by his decision. More so to them than it would for him. As death would be the only thing in his near future if he attempted such a thing. They would have to live on under a sensei that had half the teaching ability he did.
Sure, he was angry at how easy the statement fell out of the old man's mouth but, Raichi Nohara was not suicidal. Plus, he was the closest thing most of these kids had to a caring adult. He couldn't just abandon them either.
The sound of the chair's armrest breaking in his hands brought his attention back to the situation at hand.
Nohara allowed his eyes to shut themselves and took slow deep breaths. Only a few seconds passed since the cheap blow was delivered but with his thoughts racing uncontrollably. It felt like he was sitting there an eternity fighting between the urge to tear the third Hokage a third asshole. Or leaving the office without saying a word.
As soon as he felt that sufficient adrenaline was purged from his blood stream, he opened his eyes to the old man refilling his pipe with dried bush. He swallowed for a final time and allowed a long sigh to clear his airways.
"What is it that you would like me to do Lord Third?"
The red hat leaned back in his seat looking relaxed for the first time since Nohara entered the office almost half hour ago.
"You're a great teacher. Most of my ANBU and our chunin population were processed by you at some point. On top of that you're great at spotting talent so... I need you to find the few who are worth it and be ruthless in your methods. Move on to espionage and assassination. Throw in high stake combat. Throw in B ranked techniques. Throw in anything to make them more efficient soldiers. I don't care if they spend all morning, noon and night metamorphosing. I need them to be up and running as long as there is a sun in the sky. Just make sure they're alive and kicking at the end of it."
Their eyes met once more and the Hokage provided a smile as they did, "Kumo has sent an invitation to their knock off version of the chunin festival. I fear if we reject it there may be an arousal of suspicion. I can't send genin assigned to jonin sensei as they haven't even left Konoha yet, and you know how the clans get when it comes to the exams in other villages. So, I need at least two cells from The Factory. You have a month and a half before these teams leave. Understood?"
Nohara responded with a curt nod "Lord Third."
"You have full autonomy for the next month," The Red Hat turned his attention to the pipe as he readied it for his next drag, "I've set up medical staff and too eager to please chunin elites. I don't want to see or hear from you until you're submitting the six who could put on a show in Kumo. You're dismissed."
"Lord Third."
Nohara rose from his chair and motioned to leave. He kept his eyes locked on the doorknob in hopes that if he focused hard enough, he could stop his body from tossing the desk up and attacking the senile senior citizen running his village. As soon as he put his hand on it the old man called out.
"Raichi," it was a loud sigh a shake of guilt hidden behind it.
The jonin with his hand still on the doorknob, glanced over his shoulder, "Lord Third."
"If I lose another fucking genin. I'll kill you myself."
"Understood."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone