As soon as we started moving, the chunin who were accompanying us spread out along the edges of the group, forming a kind of protective formation. Their positions were deliberate: some covered the flanks, others the rear corridor.
"Interesting," I muttered to myself, watching their coordinated actions. "I guess there's a chance we might be attacked while on the move. Makes sense…"
I need to find out at least some information, I thought. How long are we going to be walking, and where to, anyway? Doubt they'll tell us willingly, but it's worth a try.
"I'm going to ask something real quick, I'll be back," I said quietly to Guy and Genma, not coming to a full stop, but slowing my pace.
They nodded without asking questions.
I moved a bit closer to one of the chunin who was staying nearer to the center of our column.
"Excuse me," I began quietly, so as not to draw attention, "where are we heading, and how many days will it take?"
The chunin, without taking his eyes off the surroundings, gave a slight nod.
"About three days," he replied in a calm voice. "I can't say more than that…"
"Thank you," I said, giving a slight bow before returning to my spot in the formation.
Three days of walking ahead — that meant I could try to get the most benefit out of this.
Well, no helping it. We've got a long march ahead, so besides weighted training, my only option is to work on seal formation, I thought, extending my hands in front of me and starting to weave.
First cycle — the standard ones: Boar — Dog — Horse — Snake — Tiger. Then a little faster. Then in reverse order.
By the second round, I could already feel eyes on me.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" one of the genin running slightly to the side suddenly snapped. He tensed up and pulled away, as if I was about to blow something up.
"Practicing seal formation," I answered calmly, not stopping the movement of my fingers. "It's fine, I'm not activating anything."
He frowned but, apparently deciding I wasn't about to break protocol, just looked away and focused on the path again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few others starting to mimic me — slowly, hesitantly, occasionally messing up, but clearly trying to copy my movements.
No one said anything. But that wasn't necessary.
After about ten minutes, seals were clicking through multiple rows. Some were doing the simplest ones; others were trying to replicate full sequences.
And half an hour later, it had turned into a kind of silent game.
"Who can do 'Tiger–Rat–Ox' the fastest?" one of the genin whispered, glancing at his friend beside him.
"I've done it three times in a row without messing up," another whispered smugly, speeding up his movements.
I could feel how the rhythm of the column barely faltered, and the light, competitive mood helped take the edge off the tension of what lay ahead.
Even those who had initially looked at me with doubt had joined in.
Everyone chose their own pace, difficulty, and rhythm, as if tailoring their training to the road itself.
Guy, running nearby, suddenly let out a soft chuckle.
"You're good at setting the tone," he said in my direction. "Without even trying."
I shrugged, continuing with the next series of hand signs.
That's how the first day passed. We marched almost until sunset without stopping, taking only short breaks to catch our breath and refill canteens. The pace wasn't brutal, but it wasn't leisurely either — everyone understood this wasn't a sightseeing tour.
When the sun began to dip below the horizon and the shadows stretched long, the jonin gave a hand signal. We veered off the main path, descending into a small ravine nestled between rocky hills, and began preparing for the night.
"The squad stands out too much like this," one of the chunin muttered disapprovingly, surveying the open space and the crowd of nearly a hundred people. "If someone stumbles upon us, we'll be spotted instantly."
He looked toward another, older chunin and added:
"Figure out how to hide us. Preferably without attracting attention. Use earth, if you can."
The older one paused to think, then nodded and turned to the group:
"Who here has an Earth element? Or at least some basic Earth-style techniques?"
Genma raised his hand. A few others did too — including one chunin and two genin from another squad.
"Good," the chunin nodded. "Anyone know 'Doton: Earth Wall' or anything similar?"
Genma stepped forward, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"I've got 'Doton: Stone Shield' — I can raise a frontal barrier a couple of meters high. Won't last long, but should hold through the night."
"I have 'Doton: Sinkhole'," added a young man with a Leaf insignia on his shoulder. "I can lower the ground under the camp — tents will kind of sink twenty centimeters down, barely visible from above."
"Excellent. You're in the first group. Start with the southern side. And you," he nodded to Genma, "raise a western arc. We'll make a bowl-shaped cover, so no fires or tents are visible. The rest assist or camouflage the perimeter."
Yeah, unfortunately, I can't help — I don't have any Earth-style jutsu, I thought, watching the group of ninja forming the shelter. It stung a bit — I wanted to contribute, but my arsenal was still limited.
I had just started to turn away when I suddenly heard an annoyed voice behind me:
"Hey, idiot, I'm talking to you!"
I turned and saw that same guy — the one who had called me out earlier in the day for doing hand signs on the move. A genin, clearly older, a head taller and probably five years my senior at least. His face was twisted in irritation, fists clenched.
"What?" I asked calmly, looking him straight in the eyes.
"You've been annoying me all day, you got that?" he barked. "Can you shut up already and stop doing your damn seals while we're marching?"
I blinked. People around us were beginning to take notice, but no one had stepped in yet.
"No," I replied evenly. "I need to train. While we're moving, it's the only useful thing I can be doing."
He stepped closer, looming over me. You could feel it — he wasn't just angry; he was looking for a fight.
"Guess you didn't hear me, runt. That was an order. Not a request. Quit showing off."
I exhaled slowly and stood firm, not breaking eye contact. Outwardly, I was calm — surprisingly so. But inside, I already wanted to punch him. He was seriously starting to get on my nerves too.
"You don't have the authority to give me orders. You're not a commander, not a chunin, and not a squad leader. If you've got a personal issue — file a complaint," I paused, "or try to settle it right here."
He froze for a second. The air around us tensed. It was clear he was hesitating — fight or not. But before he could say anything, a sharp voice cut in from behind:
"What's going on here?"
We both turned. Gaku Inuzuka had walked up to us. His dog growled softly, taking position beside him.
"Well?" His gaze settled on the older genin. "Explain."
The guy opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked down.
"Just a misunderstanding…"
"Let's hope so. If you want to settle scores, wait until we reach base. Right now, you're just breaking discipline. One more word, and I'll personally assign you to latrine duty at HQ. Clear?"
"…Yeah," he muttered and walked away, not looking in my direction.
I held back a sigh. Gaku gave me a glance:
"You too. Smart of you to train. But be careful. To guys like him, your success stings worse than poison pollen. Don't make yourself an easy target."
He noticed what I was doing… — the thought warmed me from within, and my mood began to even out. Sure, the guy behind me was still glaring daggers, but now it didn't seem to matter. A jonin — a veteran ninja, a commander — had approved of my initiative. That meant I was doing something right. Even if it pissed someone off.
I need to relax before sleep, I thought, wearily lowering myself onto a stone. My muscles still ached from the long day, and my mind kept spinning with thoughts of the trials ahead. At times like this, it was important to find even a minute of peace so my body could recover and recharge with new energy.
Unpacking my sleeping bag, I carefully laid out my things nearby, trying not to make noise or distract the others. The evening chill had already settled over the camp, and a light breeze played with the leaves around us. Every sound seemed louder in this quiet.
I checked my gear — everything was in place: spare scrolls, a few kunai, a small water flask. Everything I might need on the road or in case of a sudden attack. Then I rolled up my backpack and placed it beside me, so I could pack quickly in the morning.
Lying in the sleeping bag, I slowly closed my eyes, feeling the fatigue gradually take hold. Tomorrow was a new day, new challenges — but for now, a moment of rest to regain my strength.