When the wooden door creaked open, a burly man with a deep scar running across his face stepped out.
He gave a brief nod to the familiar Chūnin escorting the group, then turned his sharp gaze to the three figures led by Uchiha Tatsumi.
Noticing their youthful faces and green expressions, his eyes narrowed slightly. He said nothing, only turned and gestured for them to enter.
Once inside, Scarface glanced around the street with caution before shutting the door behind them. The room dimmed immediately, the meager light vanishing as the heavy wooden door sealed.
Uchiha Tatsumi suddenly felt a hand grasp his. Judging from the grip, it was Mikoto's. A moment later, another hand latched onto him.
"..."
It seemed even Rope Tree wasn't immune to the tense atmosphere. Tatsumi tried to shake off his hand, but Rope Tree only clung tighter, pressing closer for comfort.
This sudden contact made Tatsumi freeze, his spine stiffening as he silently cursed the boy's fear.
"You're sure we weren't followed?" Scarface asked in a low growl.
"It's clear. You know my sensory skills—I'd know if anyone was tailing us," Anjiu replied with confidence.
Scarface gave a gruff grunt of acknowledgement.
After a moment of tense silence, he turned to the Chūnin and said, "The mission request clearly asked for experienced backup. No one here wants to babysit a bunch of kids."
Though his tone remained composed, the resentment was clear. Uchiha Tatsumi, even in the dark, imagined the man's face twisted in dissatisfaction.
He couldn't really blame him. Three Genin barely into their teens weren't exactly what hardened frontline shinobi wanted to see on reinforcement duty.
"I know it's not ideal," Anjiu admitted, "but with Iwa-nin increasing pressure on the front lines, there's a shortage of available manpower."
He leaned in and whispered, "Besides, their instructor is Lord Orochimaru."
That silenced Scarface. Orochimaru was one of the Sannin, and a commander in the current war effort—not someone you crossed lightly.
In the dark, Uchiha Tatsumi sighed inwardly. It seemed they'd been labeled as 'connections' again.
Tatsumi wanted to yell, "It's just Rope Tree who has family connections!" He, Tatsumi, was pure skill and talent—not riding on anyone's coattails.
The awkward silence was suddenly broken by the sound of nails scraping across wood.
A click echoed through the room, followed by a dull glow of light emanating from a hidden trapdoor in the center of the floor. A pale hand reached up from the opening.
With all the theatrical creepiness of a ghost story, a woman with cropped hair in her twenties emerged from below.
She scanned the room and fixed her eyes on the Genin. "Come down," she said, her voice calm and composed.
Everyone except Scarface descended into the basement. He remained above, keeping watch in case of surprise enemy movement.
Below, the basement was better lit. Three narrow corridors extended into different directions.
"Is this our entire reinforcement? Just these three brats?" a sharp voice snapped.
A lanky young man, likely in his early twenties, stormed forward. He looked pale, limping slightly—likely injured.
"We lost three Chūnin scouting near Iwa-nin lines, and they send us kids? What is HQ thinking?"
Tatsumi looked him over. Clearly recovering from a mission gone bad. So much for this being a 'low-risk' assignment.
Did Lady Tsunade help write this assignment brief? He wondered. The "training experience" label seemed grossly misleading.
The female ninja who'd guided them—Yura—frowned and addressed the man. "Ryuji, enough. HQ has its reasons."
"Yeah," he scoffed. "Better to send dead weight than send no one, right?"
Yura ignored him and turned to the Genin. "Apologies. My brother's... not great with people."
"You've probably been on the road for a while. Go rest for now."
Uchiha Tatsumi and the others nodded. They weren't taking Ryuji's words personally.
Yura led them down the corridor on the right, where a few small rooms were arranged in a row. Spartan conditions—each with only a simple bed.
"It may be a bit sudden," she said, "but I hope you three can adapt quickly."
"As Ryuji mentioned, we've encountered Iwa-nin in the area. Things aren't entirely safe, and sudden engagements are expected."
"We've lost a lot of good people lately. I don't want you three becoming the next names on the wall."
She gestured toward a room. "This one's yours."
"Thanks, Sister Yura," Rope Tree said with an earnest grin, trying to charm her. "What exactly will we be doing here?"
"Assassination," she replied flatly. "The enemy especially loves targeting 'cute' kids like you."
Rope Tree paled.
Yura grinned. "Kidding. Mostly. The mission's reconnaissance and reporting, but you'll engage enemies occasionally."
She glanced between them, her expression growing serious. "You've killed before, right?"
The three Genin nodded.
"Good. First time I killed, I was so shaken I couldn't even manage a basic Clone Jutsu," she said.
Tatsumi blinked. How had this woman survived in the shinobi world?
"Well, get some rest. Someone will brief you later," she said, then walked off.
Inside the room, the accommodations were sparse—three beds and little else.
"Hey, Tatsumi," Rope Tree asked as he dropped his pack. "Why's everyone here so grumpy?"
"I dunno," Tatsumi said, flopping onto a bed. "Maybe because you're the only one here with connections."
"What!? I'm a ninja of both strength and good looks! Not just someone's grandson!"
Tatsumi smirked. "Oh? Then how did your drawing, 'My Grandpa the Hokage', win the Konoha Art Cup Grand Prize in your first year?"
"Wha—!?" Rope Tree's face turned red. "That... that was based on technique! Not favoritism!"
Mikoto giggled softly in the corner.
Tatsumi just shook his head. "Sure it was, Rope Tree. Sure it was."
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