After resting at home for two days, Hikaru returned to ANBU on schedule.
ANBU work was strange like that—busy to the point of suffocation, yet sometimes oddly relaxed when there were no missions or special assignments.
You might run an operation today and be allowed to rest for several days…
Then the next mission would come, and you wouldn't sleep properly for a week.
So in ANBU, besides learning practical skills and memorizing endless intelligence, you also had to manage your time carefully.
Hikaru did that well.
His cheat helped, cutting down the time he wasted on pointless detours—but planning and studying were still necessary.
In those two days, Hikaru had not only organized his next steps—some still vague, but at least forming a direction—
He'd also forced himself to study sealing arts.
He knew he had a long road ahead. But if he didn't push now, he'd have no chance at all.
"I'm not a genius," Hikaru admitted to himself.
"I'm just someone with special conditions on my side."
"So I have to work even harder."
He understood his own talent level clearly.
Without those strange fruits he'd cultivated to strengthen himself, he'd have died in ANBU long ago—
Or been sent to the frontlines as one more disposable body.
The irony was bitter.
The "Will of Fire" in Hashirama's era had been the founding purpose of Konoha: to protect children from war, to prevent young lives from being crushed in chaos.
Yet in the Second and Third Shinobi World Wars—under the Third Hokage's reign—countless children had still been thrown onto battlefields.
That was the complete opposite of Konoha's original intent.
Maybe it wasn't Sarutobi's wish.
Maybe Konoha truly had been cornered.
But the fact remained: it happened.
If Hikaru hadn't had a little luck—if his family hadn't had a few connections—he wouldn't have escaped that fate either.
"Nightingale Captain. Morning."
"Morning."
Hikaru smiled and greeted a few colleagues as he entered the ANBU compound.
But soon his gaze caught on one figure sitting alone in the corner.
Kakashi.
Hikaru thought briefly, then walked over.
If he wanted Kakashi to eventually introduce him to Kushina, then their relationship couldn't stay cold.
"Why are you sitting alone?" Hikaru asked casually as he stopped beside him. "Building relationships helps you in the long run."
"Captain." Kakashi lifted his head and answered flatly.
Then… nothing.
Hikaru didn't mind.
He reached down, grabbed Kakashi by the arm, and pulled him up.
Kakashi looked slightly puzzled, but he didn't resist.
To him, Hikaru was his captain—and his teacher wanted him to get along with Hikaru.
Hikaru led him into the training room.
Inside, several ANBU were running basic drills—simple movements to keep their bodies loose and ready.
It was more than habit.
ANBU missions weren't limited to outside the village. Work inside Konoha happened often too.
And unlike missions beyond the walls, village operations rarely gave you time to "prepare."
Staying warmed up mattered.
"Captain."
The moment Hikaru stepped in, two ANBU jogged over and greeted him.
They looked seventeen or eighteen—tall and solid.
It felt strange seeing them call a thirteen-year-old "Captain."
But no one in ANBU considered it strange.
Competition in ANBU was harsher than anywhere else.
In wartime, promotions could come from battlefield merit and emergency appointments.
In ANBU, there was no such generosity.
Only strength and mission volume mattered.
Brutal—but efficient.
Hikaru might have entered through connections, but his ability was real.
And he'd spent three years earning that squad leader slot.
"I knew you two would be here."
Hikaru smiled warmly, then gestured toward Kakashi.
"This guy—I'm sure you've heard of him. My old classmate."
"A real prodigy."
He paused, then pointed back at the two ANBU at his side, still speaking gently.
"These two are Yaya and Shinichi."
"They've both saved my life before."
Neither Yaya nor Shinichi had a surname.
If they absolutely needed one, maybe Yakushi would fit best.
They were both raised in an orphanage.
Their parents had died in war—so completely that no one could even trace their identities.
They had no clan name, no family crest.
Only a given name.
It was their misfortune.
But also their luck.
At least they'd entered ANBU instead of Root—where humanity was ground away clean.
"Don't listen to the captain," Shinichi said, shaking his head. "He saved the two of us."
Then he nodded politely at Kakashi.
"My name is Shinichi. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you."
"And I'm Yaya," the other added. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you."
Compared to Shinichi and Yaya, Kakashi was polite but distant—his manners were correct, but there was no warmth.
Still, he was new. No one took it personally.
And Shinichi and Yaya likely already knew his background from files.
Kakashi's coldness didn't surprise them.
Of course, they weren't overly enthusiastic either.
A man who had personally killed a teammate—even in ANBU—was someone you watched carefully.
"Alright," Hikaru said, pleased that introductions were done.
"From now on, we're teammates."
"I don't know how long this lineup will last, but as long as we work together, we'll finish our missions cleanly."
"Yes, Captain!" Yaya, Shinichi, and Kakashi replied in unison.
ANBU teams weren't permanent.
Sometimes they stayed together for years.
Sometimes they broke apart overnight.
A death in the field. A sudden transfer like Kakashi's.
Anything could force a reshuffle.
And ANBU's casualty rate wasn't low.
The enemies they faced weren't ordinary.
If you weren't discovered, you lived.
If you were…
Coming home wasn't guaranteed.
Hikaru nodded in satisfaction.
He was just about to add a few more lines—something warm, something binding, something that would tighten the team—
When a voice cut through the room.
"All units—assemble…"
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