Chapter 51: Sasori
Sunagakure Barrier Corps Conference Room.
The ridiculously large, space-consuming round table had been removed. In its place was a blackboard that took up an entire wall, a lectern, and rows upon rows of desks.
On the platform, Hiiro Rinko held a staff made of Barrier Jutsu, his sharp gaze sweeping over the students below, his expression severe.
And the students—the shinobi of the Barrier Corps—all buried their heads in fear, afraid to meet his gaze. They looked just like moles hiding in their burrows.
A group of Chūnin and even Jōnin were being completely intimidated by a child not yet ten years old.
The reason for this "spectacle" was their abysmal performance over the past few months.
"You! Number 183! Stand up!"
"Sir!"
The student whose name was called squeezed his eyes shut and stood up, looking as if he were about to be martyred.
"Answer me! What is this barrier!"
WHOOSH!
The barrier-staff tore through the air, stopping right at the tip of the nose of the shinobi who wasn't even remembered by his name, only his number.
"It's a Closed-Type Divisional Barrier!"
The red staff had a glass-like texture, yet his vision couldn't penetrate the mist condensed within. Matching these features to his lessons, Number 183's eyes snapped open, and he blurted out the answer as if being chased by something terrifying.
"Then I ask you! What are the pros and cons of a Closed-Type Divisional Barrier? Give me three of each."
Even through his round-framed glasses, Rinko's gaze stabbed into 183's skin.
"Uh… Pros are: strong isolation, high stability, and no obvious blind spots. Cons are… it's difficult to see inside from the outside, and… and… Gwaaah—!"
"The cons also include that the caster is not exempt from its effects, and it is completely incompatible with all other jutsu. Go back and copy it a hundred times. Next week, I'm testing you on the practical application."
Rinko dashed forward, slammed the staff into the stomach of 183—who had stammered and failed to produce an answer—shattering the man's subconscious defensive barrier and sending him flying. Rinko then flicked his wrist and pointed the staff at the next student.
"Next! I ask you—"
Standing at the entrance to the conference room, Karura covered her mouth, her eyes clear. Her other hand was on the doorknob, unsure if she should open it.
If she wasn't mistaken, that powerful, scolding voice belonged to Rinko.
And if her ears weren't playing tricks on her, hadn't she also just heard the sounds of a staff swinging, a barrier shattering, and someone being sent flying into a wall? Sounds that shouldn't be in here?
"Gwaaah—!!!"
Another body flew, and the door itself rattled from the impact.
"..."
Blinking, the hesitant Karura took a deep breath, knocked, and turned the handle—
Only to be instantly enveloped in a red, triangular-pyramid barrier.
"See? This is the effect of a Trigger-Type Barrier."
On the platform, Rinko poked the barrier trapping Karura with his staff, explaining to his students with a flat expression. "Simply put, it's an autonomous jutsu that ignores all other conditions and follows one rule: 'If X happens, it activates.'"
"Tell me. Pros and cons."
Number 183, who had been sent flying just moments ago, raised his hand from the floor, dusting himself off as he answered. "As an autonomous jutsu, it can be used to set traps. And because its trigger is fixed, the Chakra redundancy normally needed for fine control can be repurposed for other effects, like increasing strength, adding curses, or enhancing concealment."
"Its flaw is also its fixed trigger, as it can be set off by an unintended target. If maintained for a long time, it also requires an external energy supply."
"Ah... was I pushing you too hard just now? Your brain works just fine, doesn't it?"
Rinko tapped the staff against his back, scratched his fluffy hair, and then casually dispelled the barrier trapping Karura.
He had been in charge of the Barrier Corps for over three months. After being tortured for weeks by the horrifying fact that 'these people genuinely cannot learn this,' he had finally found the perfect teaching method.
The rod. And education.
Simply put, he would form his staff from various types of Barrier Jutsu, point it at a student's nose, and ask a question. If they couldn't answer, they'd get hit.
The results were remarkable. In just three months, this group of 'smooth-brained' students had rapidly become 'pretty-good-at-Barrier-Jutsu' masters.
Well, 'pretty good' in a small way.
Forget theory. As long as they can use it, it's fine. If they're really that curious, they can come to him for tutoring later.
He felt his own teaching ability had improved quite a bit.
It wasn't that no shinobi had quit over his crude methods, but he could count them on one hand. It's not like they didn't get beaten up when they learned ninjutsu. Everyone's tolerance for this thrilling, "life-or-death" curriculum was actually quite high.
It was a mutual understanding.
"So… what's up? You came to find me during work hours?"
He adjusted the fluffy hat that had slipped on Karura's head when she was startled. Rinko's expression softened as he pinched her still-round cheek and asked softly.
"Um… Chōko-nee had her baby. It's a boy."
"?!"
Hearing this, Rinko's expression turned serious.
He dismissed the barrier staff, smoothed the wrinkles on his clothes, and stood up straight. In the eyes of his students, his art style suddenly became 'grittier,' the lines of his form shockingly coarse.
He looked like a post-apocalyptic warlord.
"Next week's class is canceled. But there will be a pop quiz the week after. Go home and prepare. Oh, and notify the Sealing Corps—"
With that announcement, Hiiro Rinko grabbed Karura's hand and rushed out of the room, leaving the Barrier Corps members to smile fondly after him.
Chōko was Yūsa's girlfriend of five or six years, and now his wife. After getting married at the beginning of the year, they had 'made a person' at light speed, and she had been at home on leave for the past few months.
Because of this, Yūsa's own Jōnin promotion application had been postponed.
Chōko's due date wasn't supposed to be until next week; otherwise, Rinko wouldn't have scheduled a class today, nor would he have needed Karura, who worked in the medical corps, to run over and tell him.
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Chōko was already back in her room, resting.
Yūsa was standing in the nursery, his hands pressed against the incubator, gazing gently at his son.
"Have you picked a name?"
Standing next to his Nii-san, Rinko looked at the 'ugly little thing' in the box, his voice very, very soft.
"Sasori (Scorpion). What do you think? It has a nice ring to it."
"Sasori… well, it's a very common creature in the desert."
"Ah, yeah. It's a common life. I just hope this kid can grow up as healthy and ordinary as they are."
The man, who had lived for so long in the shadow of his parents' brilliance, offered this heartfelt wish for his own child.
He didn't need to be a dazzling genius. He just needed to live happily.
"Mhm. It's a good name. It's better that way."
For some reason, Hiiro Rinko thought of his original parents. Perhaps this was a feeling all parents shared.
He turned to look at Yūsa's profile, and Hiiro Rinko gave the most peaceful smile he had shown since arriving in this world.
"A family… it's a good thing."
"Hm? Did you say something, Rinko?"
"Nothing. Just wondering when Chōko-nee will get to see him."