Yohei's teammates remained visibly excited the entire trek from the Academy to the village's west district. Ren chatted animatedly with Souma, the two of them clearly still riding the thrill of having been assigned their very first mission. Yohei, meanwhile, lagged just half a step behind, occasionally sneaking glances at them – each one tinged with poorly hidden amusement.
It didn't take long for Ren to notice.
At first, he merely frowned, glancing between the path ahead and Yohei's face. Then, as the streets subtly shifted and they began heading south instead of toward the main gate, suspicion crept in. It fully set once Hayama-sensei stopped in front of one of the village's "mini-forests" – a stretch of carefully maintained woodland used both as a public park and as a source of timber that didn't require venturing beyond Konoha's walls.
Ren's shoulders sagged.
"We've been bamboozled, haven't we?" he asked, voice small and defeated, as he turned to Yohei.
Yohei tried to hold back a snort, then let out a few helpless chuckles. "Yeah," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and doing a terrible job of hiding his laughter.
Ren glared at him, eyes narrowed – but there was no real heat behind it, just the wounded look of someone who had walked straight into a trap he should have seen coming.
"Alright, here we are," Hayama-sensei announced, turning to face them. He reached into the pocket of his flak jacket, pulled out the mission scroll, and unrolled it with practiced ease. "Our contractor, Fujimoto Saburo-san, has been granted a land lease by the Hokage on the outskirts of the woods in the south-west area of the village, for the express purpose of building a warehouse for his mercantile products. As part of the contract made with the administration, every step of the building process will be realized either entirely or partially by genin, with a different mission assigned for each stage."
He rolled the scroll back up and regarded his students with an easy smile.
"Luckily, the first part has already been taken care of by another team," he continued, gesturing toward a series of white-painted stakes connected by rope, driven into the earth and disappearing deeper into the trees. "They surveyed the terrain, marked the plot, and confirmed there were no protected trees that needed to be flagged – or nests of insects belonging to the Aburame."
Yohei could have sworn he heard the man mutter 'and thank fuck for that' under his breath.
"Our – or rather, your – job today," Hayama-sensei went on, "is to clean out all of the trees inside the marked area, so another team can come tomorrow and clear any remaining undergrowth and debris."
He let the silence linger, watching their reactions.
Souma looked disappointed for exactly one heartbeat before his expression shifted. His eyes swept over the trees with renewed interest, already assessing their thickness and spacing, one hand settling on the handle of his sword as if itching to get started.
Yohei, who had been laughing just moments earlier, felt that amusement drain away as the reality of the hard labor ahead finally sank in. His shoulders slumped slightly.
Ren, on the other hand, was barely holding himself together.
"O-oi, oi, Yohei," he called, turning toward his teammate with a pitiful look on his face. "You called me wimpy, right? You're right – so right. We're partners, yeah? The best of friends?" He thrust out his arms dramatically. "So you'll help me with your freaky strength, right? Look at these things! They're noodles!"
"Now, now, none of that," their sensei chided, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "As luck would have it, there is a perfectly even number of them to divide between the three of you. Thirty trees – well, thirty-one, but–"
He drew his sword, and it was immediately wreathed in sharp, cutting winds. With a single clean motion, he sliced through the base of the nearest tree. The trunk groaned as he gave it a light push, sending it tipping backward until it crashed to the ground. Hayama-sensei then turned back to then and sat on the remaining stump, smoothly sheathing his blade once more.
"There," he said lightly, dusting off his hands. "Now they're even. No need to thank me."
His expression shifted, amusement giving way to something more serious as he looked at the three of them. "Before we start, I want to ask you something. Why do you think you're being told to do this? Why are ninja – trained for combat from an early age – made to do menial work that anyone else could do? What is the purpose of a D-Rank mission?"
His gaze settled on Souma. "Souma?"
The boy tilted his head, brows knitting together as he thought it over. After a moment, he ventured, "Training?"
Hayama hummed noncommittally, then turned his attention to Ren.
"To build a good relationship with the civvies?" the red-eyed boy guessed with a shrug. "Show them that the big bad shinobi aren't so big and bad after all – and that we're actually helpful in their day-to-day lives beyond just protecting them."
The sensei nodded once, then looked to Yohei.
Yohei pursed his lips, taking a moment before answering. "Because they're easy?" he said slowly. "They're a good source of money for those who don't have the resources of a family to invest in their careers, and they prepare genin for the whole process of actually completing missions."
Hayama nodded. "That's basically it, yes. D-Ranks are helpful in training a genin's body and mind, and in building teamwork and camaraderie. They teach you how to deal with monotonous tasks and how to interact with clients, as well as help you understand the bureaucratic side of shinobi life."
He continued without pause. "And while their pay is nothing compared to higher-ranking missions, it's still a considerable sum – enough to help young ninja establish themselves, secure a place to live, and invest in both equipment and personal improvement. Furthermore, as Ren said, they help bridge the distance between the average civilian and the ninja. They prevent mistrust from taking root between us and those we depend on for work, and avoid the kind of ostracization shinobi suffered in the past, when we were seen as little more than butchers and mercenaries."
He let that settle for a moment before going on.
"But here's the real question – why? Why train genin in this way, when more conventional training could achieve the same effect? Why teach you to complete missions like this when a more advanced mission under the guidance of an experienced ninja could do just as well? Why allow genin to be employed by civilians when they could instead work exclusively for the village? Why worry about how people who couldn't realistically pose a threat to us see us?"
All three of them were staring at him now, eyes sharp and focused, curiosity written plainly across their faces. The sight made Hayama crack a smile.
"Honestly," he admitted, "I'm not the best person to answer those questions. I'm no philosopher or historian. Mostly, I do my work and train to improve myself – I'm not overly concerned with understanding why things are the way they are, or how they came to be."
He paused, then added, "But one of your senpai once asked me those same questions, and I've been thinking about them ever since. And if you want my opinion… the answer is simply this."
He smiled.
"Because we are ninja."
They only looked more confused at that, their expressions blank with uncertainty – and Hayama laughed.
"What is a ninja, my genin?" Hayama continued. "You could ask that question to a hundred of your peers and get a hundred different answers – and that, in itself, is the answer."
He folded his arms loosely as he spoke. "At our core, we're nothing more than individuals with a higher-than-average chakra capacity who train to use it. But so are monks. So are samurai. So are many craftsmen across the Elemental Nations, and plenty of more niche professions besides."
His gaze swept over them. "What makes ninja different is that we don't follow a single creed, goal, or objective. A ninja is a multi-purpose tool, wielded by both their contractor and their village. A ninja can be anything."
He gestured around them, encompassing the forest, the village beyond, and perhaps more than that. "We are builders – and destroyers. Baby-sitters and dog-walkers. Craftsmen and bodyguards. Symbols of status and instruments of fear. Infiltrators and companions. Rescuers and killers."
Hayama's voice remained calm as he went on. "The Hokage could, hypothetically, cease accepting new missions altogether. He could make the Academy's training more militaristic, organize us into a standing army, overthrow the Daimyō, seize control of the Land of Fire, and search the countryside for every child with chakra aptitude to be taken from their parents and trained. We would be soldiers and conquerors then."
He paused, then continued, "Or he could order the demilitarization of Konoha. Turn us into peaceful entertainers, crafters, and performers."
A small shake of his head followed. "But that's not what we are. What defines us as ninja is our capacity to be all of those things. And nothing embodies that spirit more than D-Rank missions."
The words hit Yohei harder than he had expected.
They echoed in his mind, stirring memories of what he had said just two days earlier when asked about his dreams for the future. At the time, it had been a somewhat spontaneous answer – born from a few moments of honest consideration – but it had felt right as soon as he spoke it. Since then, it had only grown firmer in his heart, solidifying into something he believed was truly worth striving for.
He didn't feel the same blazing conviction that Rock Lee carried for his goal – to prove that even someone who couldn't use ninjutsu or genjutsu could still become an exemplary ninja, that hard work could triumph over natural talent. Nor was it as emotionally charged as Naruto's dream of becoming Hokage so he could be acknowledged and accepted by the village as family.
But it was something Yohei wanted.
Something he felt had to be done.
Too much evil had been perpetrated by the ninja system as it was. Given the chance to change it – to prevent tragedies like the rise of the Akatsuki, the fall of Uzushiogakure, the endless cycles of massacres, genocides, and blatant violations of human rights –
He couldn't just hope things would unfold as neatly as they had in canon. He couldn't leave it to someone else and trust that it would all work out in the end. How much more misery and tragedy would be required before that point? And even if Naruto eventually became Hokage, were things truly as good as they could be afterward?
Yohei didn't know.
He didn't even know whether the fragments he remembered about Boruto would hold true in this world.
What he had already accepted, however, was that his goal was vague. He didn't yet know what exactly needed to be changed. He didn't know how to change it – or what to change it into.
And now, he was forced to confront another truth.
He didn't even fully understand the system he wanted to change.
'I still have a lot to learn, huh?'
Seeing the expressions on his genin's faces, Hayama nodded with satisfaction. Inwardly, he congratulated himself for having improvised that little speech – one that, if nothing else, would save him from listening to weeks of whining like he had endured with his last team during their first stretch of D-Rank missions.
"Good. Now that you understand," Hayama said, clapping his hands together once, "I'll lay out the instructions for this mission."
He raised a finger. "Each of you will need to take out ten trees. You're free to divide them up however you want. And to be clear – I'm not talking only about cutting the trunks. You'll also be uprooting them from the ground."
Three fingers now. "You are not allowed to use any jutsu for this. Only chakra used to strengthen your body. That includes that jutsu of yours, Yohei." His eyes flicked briefly in Yohei's direction. "And chakra flow is forbidden as well, Souma. For that matter, don't even use your sword."
He gestured toward a nearby tree, where three woodcutter's axes had been left sunk into the trunk. "If you want to use tools, you're free to take those axes."
'If you want to use tools!?' Yohei screamed internally. 'What the fuck, sensei? Do you expect us to just pull those big-ass trees out of the ground, or to Minecraft this shit?'
"Why would the client ask for something like that?" Ren asked, despair written plainly across his face, while Souma stared mournfully down at his sword.
"Oh, it wasn't the client," Hayama explained casually. "This is expressly for your training. Also, feel free to start whenever you like – the sooner you finish, the sooner we can head back so you can bathe and eat."
"Yes, sensei," they chorused, each with a different level of enthusiasm.
They moved toward the tools, each grabbing an axe. Souma immediately held his by the bottom of the handle and swung it through the air like a sword, testing its balance. Hayama gave him a dry look that Souma either didn't notice – or chose to ignore.
"So," Yohei said, glancing between his teammates, "how do we divide this?"
"Meh," Ren shrugged. "No need to overthink it. Let's just spread out enough that we don't hit each other with falling trees."
"Even if we do," Souma added, finishing a short series of practice katas with the axe, "that's just endurance training, right?"
Yohei snorted, then burst out laughing.
Ren's eye twitched as he turned slowly toward the taller boy.
"No, Souma," Ren denied with a twitching eye, "that'd be speed training – seeing how fast you can rush to get me to the hospital before I fucking die."
Souma's eyes widened. He nodded solemnly, as if absorbing critical information. "How much time do you think I'd have?"
Yohei collapsed further, laughter bordering on wheezing.
Ren let out a long, defeated groan. "Please don't hit me with a falling tree, Souma."
"I won't," Souma promised seriously.
"Thanks," Ren replied flatly.
As the laughter slowly died down, Yohei felt an idea take shape. A way to check something off his mental to-do list and test the inner workings of the Chaos Scroll in a controlled environment.
He straightened and looked toward their sensei.
"Hey, sensei," Yohei called out, "can we make bets while doing the mission?"
Hayama looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a small, amused smile. "Absolutely forbidden on any mission of C-Rank and above. Any kind of distraction can be fatal in our line of work. But D-Ranks are safe enough that it shouldn't be a problem."
He paused, then blinked. "Well, technically, betting falls under the umbrella of 'money' in the Three Shinobi Prohibitions. But most shinobi I've met don't treat them as absolute rules. As long as you don't let something like that dominate your life, you should be fine."
"'Money, women, and alcohol,' right?" Ren asked thoughtfully.
Hayama nodded once.
"And what's your vice, sensei?" Yohei asked with a grin.
"Ask me again when you're older," Hayama replied dismissively, earning a chuckle from all three genin.
"Alright then," Ren said, turning back to Yohei. "What kind of bet were you thinking about?"
Souma was watching with clear interest now.
"Simple," Yohei said easily. "The last one to finish all their trees pays for the others' lunch."
Ren's eyes went flat. "And why would I accept this bet when I'm the weakest one here?"
Yohei's smile turned sly as he slung an arm around Ren's shoulders. "Well, the way I see it, we all have our advantages. Sure, Souma's the best with a weapon – but that's a sword, not an axe. I might be stronger than you two, but without Muscle Assault it's not some insurmountable gap. And yeah, you're the weakest – but you're also the most dexterous."
He gestured toward the trees. "None of us is strong enough to just yank these things out of the ground. We'll all have to dig and cut the roots, and I bet you'll have better luck with that than either of us. Besides, as long as you're not the last one, you don't lose."
Ren's eyes narrowed, a glint of challenge appearing in them. "And what does the first one to finish get?"
Yohei tilted his head, thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Bragging rights?"
Ren and Souma exchanged a glance before both of them nodded and extended their hands.
"Deal."
Yohei grinned and shook it – only to be yanked off balance as Ren suddenly pulled him forward. He hit the ground with a startled grunt as Ren bolted away, axe already in hand, and started hacking at the nearest tree.
"Ha! You loser better move quickly – this area's mine!"
"You little-!"
Before Yohei even managed to get back to his feet, Souma had already moved farther away and begun his own work, forcing a curse out of him.
Instead of grabbing an axe, Yohei sprinted toward the tree at the far edge of the marked area. He dropped to his knees, skidding across the dirt to save time, and immediately started tearing into the ground with his hands, digging wide swathes of earth away to expose the tree's roots.
As soon as he had cleared away enough earth, however, instead of cutting through the exposed roots, Yohei leaned forward and-
Chomp.
He bit clean through a thick root, his teeth tearing through the tough wood as if it were butter. He spat out the mouthful of bark and splinters, then immediately bent down again, jaws snapping shut around another root and ripping it apart.
His teammates stared at him in horrified fascination.
Nearby, Hayama-sensei drew deeply on years of discipline to maintain a mildly amused expression, even as he cackled internally.
It only took a few minutes before Yohei was finished. He straightened, mouth stained with dirt and flecks of bark, then dropped into a squat and wrapped his arms around the tree's trunk.
His muscles tensed.
Grrrrrk – !
With a guttural grunt of effort, he slowly hauled the tree free of the earth, roots tearing loose with a wet, sucking sound. Then, with a sharp exhale, he heaved it backward, flinging it over his shoulder where it crashed to the ground behind him.
"Oh, that's so much fucking bullshit," Ren accused flatly.
He blinked – and immediately swore when he realized Souma had already gone back to chopping his own tree, forcing him to scramble into action as well.
Yohei laughed loudly, spitting dirt from his mouth as he moved on to the next tree and began excavating the ground around its base once more.
-~=~-
"I hope you're proud of yourself," Ren said flatly.
"Oh, I am," Yohei agreed with a grin.
An hour and a half later, they had finished their first mission and returned to report it. The expressions on the mission desk staff – and on the Hokage himself – when Yohei walked in with his face and clothes caked in dirt would remain one of his most jealously guarded memories for a long time.
Afterward, they showered in the Academy's bathrooms, changed clothes, and headed out to the restaurant where they now sat.
Yohei had, of course, won.
Souma placed second, and Ren – predictably – came in third, despite his various attempts at trickery.
More important than having his meal paid for, or even the bragging rights – which he fully intended to exploit as much as possible – was the new weight he felt in his chest, where the Chaos Scroll rested.
The joy of uncovering one of the artifact's mechanics, and the relief that came with yet another confirmation that taking lives wouldn't be necessary for him to grow stronger, left him wearing a permanent smile.
A smile that came off as… smug.
Which, in turn, left a certain red-eyed teammate more than a little pissy.
To be fair to Ren, though, Yohei was feeling a decidedly non-zero amount of smugness.
"I wonder what a girl would think if she knew you literally ate dirt," Ren said with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Like that pretty jōnin at the mission desk. She wasn't there when we went back, but maybe she'll be tomorrow. Do you think she'd find it attractive? I'm sure any girl would love kissing a guy with worms in his mouth."
Yohei's permanent smile vanished instantly as he shot Ren a glare. "You wouldn't dare."
"I wouldn't?" Ren asked, eyebrow raised, a slow smile creeping onto his face.
Yohei narrowed his eyes further, which only made Ren's grin widen.
Their staring contest was abruptly cut short when Hayama slapped both of them upside the head.
"Stop bickering, you two," their sensei chided. "Why can't you be more like Souma? He came in second, but he's neither mad nor gloating."
That drew their attention to the fourth member of the group. Souma sat blissfully detached from the conversation, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's, mouth completely full of rice as he ignored them and shoveled in another bite.
Yohei and Ren stared at him in stunned silence.
Ren scoffed. "Easy to be satisfied when someone else is paying for your meal."
Yohei rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I'll pay for it next time," he promised easily.
Ren glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, hesitated for a moment, then sighed before turning fully toward him, a challenging look on his face. "Next time, I'll make you pay. You're not the only one who can make bets, pal."
'You mean more opportunities to get rewards? Yes, please.'
Grinning at the thought, Yohei extended his hand.
"Deal."