Jun brushed past Anko, his movement fluid, precise.
In her startled gaze, he twisted, then snapped into a rising spinning kick—"Leaf Whirlwind!"
BOOM!
A black blur was kicked out of the dust cloud, slammed back hard.
"Don't get cocky, brat," Jun muttered.
Anko froze for a moment—then her face twisted in fury.
"Who the hell are you calling brat, dumbass?!"
She clearly hated being spoken to like a kid. Just look at how easily she'd flattened Mizuki earlier.
But Jun didn't have time to argue.
He suddenly yanked her by the collar, both of them diving to the side as Kuromaru came tearing through the air.
The oversized hound hit empty dirt where they'd just been.
Anko, off balance, instinctively clutched Jun's flak vest.
The two tumbled across the ground, rolling in a chaotic heap.
Ptuh! Anko spat dirt as they landed—still tangled together.
"What the hell was that for?!"
Jun pushed her behind him without answering.
"This ninken's not going down that easy. Stay sharp."
Tsume had claimed to be a chūnin, but Kuromaru's power… Jun could feel it. The dog fought like a seasoned mid-level ninja, maybe stronger.
To "act" this perfectly, you needed complete control. That meant strength—a significant gap in level between opponent and actor.
There was no way that earlier kick truly knocked Kuromaru back. That had been for show.
Which meant Tsume, with her partner, likely had tokubetsu jōnin-level strength.
Jun narrowed his eyes as he faced the restless, snarling beast again.
Mizuki had already bolted. Anko and Jun had both engaged. Yet Tsume still hadn't stepped in.
She was probably testing them—wanting them to taste what battle really felt like. To bleed.
"Tch."
He glanced at Anko. "I'll go in close. Taijutsu's my specialty. You stay behind me—cover from range."
Anko stared at the Uchiha fan symbol on his back.
Her heart jolted in a way she didn't expect.
So this is… the strength of the Uchiha?
He'd been mocked, called the class idiot, yet now he stood firm against a deadly threat… shielding her.
Maybe… maybe he's not so hopeless after all.
Jun's sudden shout broke her train of thought.
"Here it comes!"
She shook her head and focused, fingers flying through seals again.
With someone holding the front line, she could finally go all-in on ninjutsu.
But chakra was still limited at her age—most of her combat relied on kunai.
Dust swirled. The fight raged on.
At some point, Mizuki crept back from wherever he'd run off to.
Click.
He picked up the custom shuriken he'd scattered earlier. Four of them, he clipped together into a massive throwing star.
Teeth clenched. "I'm helping this time!"
Whoosh!
The giant shuriken spun through the air—
SPLUT!
Jun stared at the fresh wound on his shoulder in disbelief.
You've got to be kidding me.
He was already fighting through muscle fatigue and soreness from last night's training. Now this?
CLANG!
Kuromaru batted the bloody shuriken aside and surged around the injured Jun—targeting Mizuki.
"AAAAH!"
Eyes squeezed shut, Mizuki screamed again.
Kuromaru, apparently fed up, swatted him unconscious with one paw.
"You okay?!"
Anko's voice was fierce, her small frame now positioned between Jun and the beast. Blood trickled from his shoulder.
"Damn mutt… You're not touching my teammate!"
She spread her arms wide to block Jun, even though her knees trembled from chakra depletion.
Tiny in stature, nearly out of strength… but still standing.
It wasn't much.
But somewhere in the middle of all this, something intangible bloomed between them—a bond.
Yeah.
If you ignored the unconscious idiot drooling in the dirt, it might've even been touching.
From the shadows, Tsume finally revealed herself.
Smirking.
"Tch…" Jun hissed in pain as his eyes scanned the clearing—until he spotted the woman standing beside Kuromaru.
So you finally showed up, huh?
Of course she had. She'd been watching everything. Evaluating.
"All of you are garbage," Tsume said, tone ice-cold. "Unqualified. Every last one of you."
"What?!"
Anko flared up, outraged. "That's a mid-level ninken trained to resist Fire Style! How the hell are fresh Genin supposed to beat that?!"
"I said unqualified."
Tsume sneered. "Rules or not, I've never cared. If I want to send you back to the Academy—I'll do it."
Wait. What?
Jun's head jerked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
You mean… I can go back to school?!
Now that he had the system, staying safe for a few more years, training quietly in peace?
Hell. Yes.
"But…" Tsume added, as if reconsidering.
Jun tensed.
"Uchiha Jun and Mizuki—barely pass. Mitarashi Anko… failed. You're going back for retraining. I'll assign a new teammate for them later."
…Huh?
Me? Jun pointed to himself, stunned.
I passed again?!
Something wasn't right. First the fluke graduation, now this.
By any rational measure, Anko had outperformed both of them. Jun had gotten injured. Mizuki had been useless. And she was the one getting sent back?
Jun wasn't the only one confused.
"Why?!"
Anko's face was red with disbelief and fury. She'd clearly expected to pass.
Tsume gave a bored glance toward Mizuki's limp form.
"Why? Because recklessness isn't strength."
"But… I—!"
Anko's protests died on her tongue as she saw Kuromaru—still pristine, not a scratch on him.
"Knowing when to advance, when to retreat. Knowing your limits. That's how you survive. You don't have that yet."
Tsume's words hit Anko like a slap. Her confidence crumbled in silence.
Jun, meanwhile, looked like he was constipated.
Are you serious right now?
"'Knows when to advance and retreat'? Who? Mizuki? That coward?!"
"'Knows his limits'? Me?! I just got stabbed in the shoulder by a teammate!"
It all clicked.
This wasn't a real test.
Anko was seven. Too young for field duty. This whole thing had been a formality. She'd been marked for return from the start.
And him and Mizuki? Both eleven. Born in Year 36. Old enough to be "pushed out" into active duty.
Jun suspected that's why he'd been "allowed" to graduate despite tanking his exam. The village wanted warm bodies.
Which also meant—
He'd probably been flagged too. A known loafer. Someone to "monitor."
As his thoughts raced, he caught something in his peripheral vision.
Mizuki twitched.
…This bastard was faking it again?
He's the same as me, Jun realized. Was he pretending to be a failure all along, too?
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
Goddamn it… this whole squad is full of snakes.