Chapter 22 – The First True Battle
Konoha Root Headquarters.
Back at the base, Danzo still couldn't smother the fire in his chest.
It wasn't anger over failing to secure Matsushita Taichi as another "tool." Konoha never lacked for geniuses. Taichi's current level was merely on par with Kakashi. Root already had clan heirs and secret-arts specialists—losing one boy didn't matter. A genius who never matured was worthless anyway.
What truly enraged him was Sarutobi's final words: "I am the Hokage."
Back when Tobirama-sensei asked the fateful question during their retreat, Danzo had hesitated for just a moment—long enough for Sarutobi Hiruzen to seize the chance. If not for that instant, the Hokage's hat would be his now.
The more he dwelled on it, the more it burned. After smashing a few tables and vases, the anger subsided enough for him to think clearly. If Sarutobi refused to hand Taichi over, fine—Danzo would go see the boy himself. If Taichi personally agreed to join Root, surely Sarutobi couldn't refuse.
---
At that moment, Taichi had no idea that two of Konoha's most powerful men had nearly come to blows over him.
After a short rest at home, he slung his short blade over his back and headed toward the training grounds. The streets seemed livelier than usual—probably because the Ninja Academy was on break.
Children ran past in laughing groups, brushing against his shoulder. None of them could imagine that the next great war was creeping closer with every day. For now, they still enjoyed this fragile peace.
But the village elders knew. So did the other hidden villages. The predators were merely licking their wounds. Once their strength returned, the next storm would break.
---
The summer air was thick and stifling. Leaving the busy streets behind, Taichi moved through the shade toward the riverside training grounds. The cicadas' calls clung to his skin like damp cloth.
A sharp clink of metal rang out ahead. Instinctively, he pressed a hand to his sword hilt, channeling chakra to his toes—the silent approach technique Kakashi had taught him just last week.
Through the brush, an open clearing came into view: three ANBU were surrounding a man wearing a Mist Village forehead protector.
The masked ninja flung three kunai bound with explosive tags. Dust erupted, and from it burst five water clones. Taichi recognized the Mist-style substitution technique—but then he caught a glimpse of an Iwagakure tattoo at the man's cuff. A fake Mist ninja!
"Northwest!" the ANBU leader suddenly shouted, eyes snapping toward Taichi's hiding spot.
A wind blade slashed toward him. Taichi dove into a roll, grass slicing across his cheek. The enemy ninja leapt into the trees, bounding closer in seconds. Taichi saw the sweat under his forehead protector—and chakra threads coiling around his fingers. Puppet-style control… from the Sand!
"Fire Bullet!" Taichi's hands trembled as he finished the seals. The fireball barely singed the man's sleeve. A poisoned senbon shot from the spy's sleeve—Taichi drew his short blade in a blur, meeting it midair with a clang that rattled all the way up to his shoulder.
[Hatake Kenjutsu +1]
Before he could steady his grip, a whip-like kick swept toward his face. Taichi twisted back—and remembered Guy's Leaf Whirlwind. Spinning with the momentum, he kicked into the man's knee. Bone popped out of place with a sharp crack. Taichi's stomach clenched at the sound; he'd just treated the same injury that morning at the hospital. This time, he'd caused it himself.
---
After the jutsu he'd used earlier, his chakra reserves were nearly gone. Without hesitation, Taichi diverted a skill point into Physical Strength. In an instant, his stamina, focus, and chakra were fully restored. Confidence surged through him.
"Brat, you're dead!" The spy's Wind Release came howling, pelting Taichi with grit. Mid-seal, Taichi's fingers shifted into the pattern for the medical technique Nonō had taught him. Green light wrapped his left arm as he caught the blow head-on. Cloth tore, blood speckled his eyelashes.
He used the pain to sharpen his focus, pulling a smoke bomb from his pouch—Asuma's favorite diversion tactic.
---
The clearing filled with gray haze. Taichi held his breath, ears straining for movement. Listen to the wind, Kakashi's voice echoed in his head.
The blade met flesh—but resistance told him it was only an Earth Clone. The real attack came from behind. He twisted, but the shuriken still tore a hot line across his shoulder.
"Phoenix Sage!" He spat small fireballs to block the enemy's retreat. The heat wave ripped the mask from the spy's face, revealing a scarred visage that reminded Taichi of countless hospital patients. His fingers hesitated for a heartbeat.
It was all the opening the spy ninja needed—chains shot from his sleeve, coiling around Taichi's ankle.
---
The sound of metal scraping against metal was cut short as three kunai severed the chakra threads. The ANBU leader appeared behind the spy in a blur, his mouth curling faintly beneath the mask.
His sword pierced the spy's shoulder clean through. Taichi slumped against a tree, pressing green-glowing hands to his bleeding wound. The light was dimmer than usual.
"Medical team!" the ANBU captain roared, sending birds scattering.
Taichi watched them slap chakra-sealing cuffs onto the unconscious spy. Sunlight glinted off the blood-streaked hilt of his blade, and he realized—he was smiling. So this is what real combat tastes like… disinfectant and iron.
"Kid—good sword work, solid taijutsu. But you drift too much in a fight." The captain tossed him a bandage. Taichi noticed the faded flame crest on the man's forehead protector. His gloved hand, stained with blood, rested on Taichi's shoulder with surprising warmth. "What's your name?"
"Matsushita Taichi."
The ANBU leader questioned him briefly—why he was here, what he was doing. When he learned Taichi was still a student at the Ninja Academy, he paused in disbelief. Since when are the Academy brats this ferocious?
Taichi glanced at the unconscious spy on the stretcher, and a fleeting image surfaced in his mind—
the child he had once calmed with a healing jutsu in the hospital.
The cool morning breeze skimmed across his sweat-damp back.
At last, his grip on the short blade no longer trembled.
In the corner of his vision, the panel flickered quietly, the numbers climbing at a steady pace:
[You engaged in battle with an enemy. Related experience has increased.]
[Skill: Basic Taijutsu +1 EXP]
[Skill: Hatake Kenjutsu +1 EXP]
[Skill: Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire +1 EXP]
…
[You fought against a shinobi. Combat experience gained. Ninja Apprentice EXP +50]
A single fight had pushed his stats forward more than an entire day of training.
So it was true—real combat was the fastest path to growth.
Pity such opportunities couldn't be summoned at will.
By the time he slipped away from the ANBU and reached the riverbank, Taichi decided against more training.
His body and mind had both been heavily taxed.
Even though his injuries had been mended with medical ninjutsu, his muscles still carried the ache.
Pushing himself now would only invite trouble.
He replayed the battle in his mind—
the moments of distraction mid-fight, the mistimed jutsu release.
If the ANBU hadn't intervened when they did, he might have been the one on that stretcher.
The gap between himself and a true shinobi wasn't just about strength; it was about the instinct and composure born from countless brushes with death.
After reviewing his mistakes, he glanced at his status panel.
Both Basic Taijutsu and Basic Meditation were on the verge of leveling up.
If they had leveled earlier in the fight, maybe he wouldn't have had to burn a precious attribute point.
But in a life-and-death clash, who had the luxury to hesitate?
He eased into the breathing drills of Basic Taijutsu, then shifted into the mental focus of Basic Meditation—
both to restore his energy and to push those skills over the edge.
Sure enough, the prompt soon appeared:
[Congratulations, Basic Taijutsu has reached Lv.9 (0/1600)]
[Congratulations, Basic Meditation has reached Lv.9 (0/1600)]
The wave of clarity that accompanied each upgrade was unmistakable.
His taijutsu had finally reached chūnin level.
Now came the hard part—tempering that new edge through battle.
---
Elsewhere, the ANBU captain had just handed the spy over to the Interrogation Unit before reporting to the Hokage's office.
"So you're telling me… during the fight, a student from the Academy stepped in and stopped the spy from escaping?" the Hokage asked.
"Yes, Hokage-sama. First-year student, name: Matsushita Taichi. I've already confirmed his identity—no issues."
"Understood. You may go rest."
"Yes, sir!"
Once the ANBU left, Hiruzen Sarutobi reached for his pipe, packed it full of fragrant tobacco, and lit it.
He took a deep, slow draw, then exhaled into a cloud that swallowed him whole.
This morning, Danzō had come demanding the boy, claiming Hiruzen's training methods would bury his potential.
And now, just hours later, an ANBU report arrived—praising that same boy's performance in battle.
The Hokage's eyes glimmered through the haze.
Perhaps this Matsushita Taichi was his lucky star…
Every time he heard the boy's name, something good seemed to happen.
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