The journey from the Land of Lightning to Konoha in the Land of Fire posed no problem for the group of Kumo ninja. Setting aside the genin who were nervous and excited to finally "see the world," the number sent this time was small—not due to a lack of candidates, but because the Raikage did not trust Konoha.
Too few, and Kumo would lose prestige in the eyes of the world. Too many, and "accidents" might happen, costing them valuable talent. Thus, aside from five genin squads, only their respective jōnin and Chad were traveling at a relaxed pace.
By their calculations, they would arrive in Konoha three days before the event, with more than enough time to study the other participating teams.
Even these squads were carefully selected—not the worst, but not the best either. Average talents who would broaden their worldview by participating in the Chūnin Exams and present a sufficiently good image.
Those who were meant to deliver a message to the world were Chad's students.
As for the third member of that squad, who would take Yugito's place, he was an obedient and sensible genin who understood his role in this game. His name was Ororomoi. While his strength paled in comparison to Chad's students, his sense of self-preservation should be enough to avoid dragging anyone down.
The group was taking their final break before resuming their march to reach Konoha before sunset, but…
"Isaribi-san," Ororomoi approached nervously. "She's wandered off again!"
"She must've seen something new," Isaribi said, stopping her drink from her bamboo canteen and shaking her head. "It's fine. I'll bring her back."
"I appreciate it," Ororomoi sighed in relief.
Isaribi had a much gentler personality than her current squad "partner."
With a blink-fast movement, Isaribi leapt into the treetops and followed the traces her "senpai" hadn't bothered to erase—or perhaps had deliberately left behind so she could be found when the time came. With her, anything was possible.
In just a couple of minutes, she found her.
A young and beautiful woman wearing a short white jacket. Her arms were bandaged from elbow to wrist, she wore dark pants, and each limb bore long leather bracers or greaves reinforced on the inside with metal rings. Her hair was purple, long and flowing down her back, with a few unruly strands at the back standing on end.
She sat relaxed, cross-legged atop a tree stump. In her hand, she held a flower encased in a large pink crystal of pristine clarity, preserving the peak moment of its bloom for eternity. Her light brown eyes examined it with interest.
"Guren," Isaribi called as she descended from the branches. "Even if you found another flower for your collection, you shouldn't wander off from the group like this! Especially so close to Konoha."
Guren smiled as she stored away her latest creation.
"Please, with sensei so close, you know we're not in any danger," she said, standing up from the stump and stretching, her figure pressing against her clothes. "There are many flowers in the Land of Fire that I don't have. It'd be a shame to miss them because of a rushed trip."
This was a hobby she had developed over the years while training under Chad outside the village—finding beautiful flowers at their peak and sealing them within her Crystal Release to collect them.
Her current "floral treasure" numbered no fewer than twenty-seven thousand four hundred and twelve different flowers, the vast majority from the Land of Lightning. The rest came from missions or seeds she cultivated herself, maintaining a small garden behind her house.
She remembered every single flower, so when she saw one she didn't have, her impulse drove her to claim it.
"Doesn't it worry you that sensei might get angry?" Isaribi sighed.
The confident Guren froze, her face paling slightly.
"...Is sensei upset?"
"No, but—"
"Don't scare me like that!" Guren let out the breath she'd unconsciously been holding. For a moment, she thought she was headed for another triple training session.
She shuddered just remembering the previous times it had happened. Unlike Yugito and Isaribi, she relied more on her Kekkei Genkai and ninjutsu than on taijutsu.
So when Chad wanted to teach her a lesson, he gave her purely physical training.
"Come on," Isaribi said, unsure what else to say, simply urging her to return. "And try to be a bit gentler with Ororomoi. I think he's afraid of you."
"Maybe he should grow a pair and act like a man," Guren snorted, but followed Isaribi back anyway.
"Don't hold others to sensei's standards—you know that's not fair to them," Isaribi scolded, sometimes wondering who was actually more mature. "Besides, Ororomoi is only twelve years old! Be a little more mindful, will you?"
Guren couldn't argue with that. She was simply irritated that someone with such a massive gap in ability had been assigned to temporarily replace Yugito.
Once everyone was present again, they picked up the pace toward Konoha and arrived just in time for dinner. After presenting their documents at the gate, they were taken to hotel rooms prepared in advance, and each group went their own way.
"Cozy," Guren remarked as she crystallized a few hidden insects—likely from the Aburame clan. "Konoha has the subtlety of a wild boar."
Everyone expected to be spied on or monitored within the village, but at least some basic "courtesy" would have been nice.
Seriously?
Insects where the girls were supposed to sleep?
"Sensei, should we go out to eat?" Isaribi asked after taking a quick shower.
Given her current physical condition, she felt uncomfortable if she didn't drink enough water or couldn't bathe frequently. It wasn't fatal or debilitating, but it bothered her greatly.
"You go ahead. I need to visit the Hokage's office to sort out the arrangements."
"Ororomoi?" Isaribi turned to the genin, who didn't know where to look.
"I'm not hungry. I'll just go to sleep," he excused himself as he headed to the side room—the men's quarters.
Chad, Isaribi, and Guren left the hotel together, walked to a food street, and then split up.
"Konoha has quite a variety," Guren commented leisurely as she looked around. "Any particular cravings? I'm fine with anything, as long as it's not sweet."
Even though Chad's training meant she wouldn't gain weight no matter what she ate, Guren had always preferred savory food over sweets.
"Takoyaki!" Isaribi's eyes lit up when she spotted a takoyaki stand with space for both of them. She grabbed Guren by the wrist and dragged her over.
Guren felt it was a good choice. If she preferred savory food, then Isaribi loved seafood—especially wrapped in batter and sauce. In a way, she was Kumo's main takoyaki consumer and recognized judge, eating over two hundred balls on a good day.
Other customers looked curiously at Isaribi's appearance, but had the decency not to bother her and continued their meals.
"Two orders of takoyaki, extra sauce and bonito flakes," Guren ordered.
"Ten orders of takoyaki, well done, no mayonnaise, with scallions on top and a bit of powdered cheese," Isaribi licked her lips as she placed the money directly on the counter.
The cook smiled at the sight of the money and, after tying his headband tightly, one could almost hear background music as he began preparing the batter and cooking the takoyaki for the two foreign ladies.
He whisked the batter like a tornado, poured it like a tsunami, tossed the chopped octopus with his gleaming knife so it landed perfectly at the center of each mold, cut identical portions with his pick, and shaped them with heat control that spoke of decades of experience.
When he finished, both arms were loaded with trays of steaming takoyaki—exactly the amount ordered.
"Enjoy!" he said confidently.
Both women stared in awe at the eighty-year-old man, whose arms trembled as he tried to hide the burns he'd gotten trying to look cool, before hurriedly eating while the food was still hot.
"It's good!" Guren praised after trying one.
"Mmm, the batter's perfect, the octopus is cooked just right, and the sauce… must be a family recipe. The takoyaki is definitely delicious!" Isaribi said thoughtfully. "I can't quite place the cheese, though. With this aftertaste… goat, maybe?"
The cook nodded in satisfaction. This was his favorite part of the job—watching customers slowly enjoy a quality product.
Especially when they described what they felt. It was how he learned opinions and refined recipes his family had used for two hundred years.
Only someone with no real sense of taste, pretending to be a connoisseur while clearly ignorant, would say things like "chewy between the teeth, thick and dense but not greasy," and so on.
Bah! Those people made him sick. Saying that was the same as saying nothing—they might as well eat in silence instead of embarrassing themselves!
"Excuse me, sir—another thirty orders, same as before!" Isaribi requested after finishing her portions.
The cook looked at the empty trays, Isaribi's sauce-stained lips, her trembling arms, and the pile of money on the counter.
"Maybe it's time to start looking for a successor…" the old man thought through tears as he kept making more takoyaki.