Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
The soft tinkle of metal clanging, followed by the brittle snap of dried palm fronds, pulled her attention away from the butterfly she’d been studying.
The training yard was nestled in a small oasis, surrounded by towering date palms and clusters of hardy shrubs, their shadows casting long, wavering patterns over the sunbaked earth.
Star-shaped throwing blades, also known as shuriken, glinted in the bright desert sunlight, hanging from a tie in Kiba’s hand as if they were just another part of the arid landscape.
“I almost had you that time!” Taiga, previously flat on his back, pushed himself to his feet the moment Kiba’s shadow loomed over him, eyes darting between his squad mates and their sensei as if waiting for a reprimand.
Even Iruka, usually composed, straightened slightly, though he tried to mask it beneath his nonchalant demeanor.
Kiba barely glanced up from his book, the faintest twitch of his hand signaling to the group to continue. Despite his outward indifference, Aimee knew that he’d already mapped every one of their movements with precise clarity.
She wondered if it was the same book he had been reading the night they ‘met’ before they’d…Aimee shook her head. Don't go there. It was just a one-night stand. It was a mistake, and that’s all it will ever be.
Either way, the man hadn’t said a single word directly to her since then.
Not when he gave them instructions for where to meet, not when he greeted them that morning, and certainly not during his vague explanation of the test that would, apparently, decide which of them advanced.
To be fair, he hadn’t answered Taiga’s thousand questions or Momoka’s scattered yelps of dismay, either.
Idiots, Aimee thought, blowing out a puff of air that sent the butterfly flitting up from her fingers.
It hovered just out of reach, wings flickering as if to say: Don’t be an asshole just because you’re mad he’s ignoring you.
Aimee frowned watching it dance further away, leaving her to her thoughts.
Sure, Kiba’s indifference irked her, but the truth was, she was more pissed at herself for making such a boneheaded decision in the first place. What the hell had she been thinking, hooking up with some random guy like that?
Whatever. She settled back on her elbows, trying to relax.
The warmth of the sun soaked into her skin as she started counting clouds to pass the time.
Somewhere behind her, a grunt or yelp would break the quiet now and then—another poor soul getting tossed across the training yard in a failed attempt to snag one of the shuriken dangling from Kiba-Sensei’s waist.
Just as she hit cloud number thirteen, a sudden shadow blocked the sunlight. The temperature changed, a coolness brushing over her skin. Her eyes narrowed in response, muscles tensing with annoyance.
“Do you think this is a joke?” A man’s voice cut through the quiet. “Do you think you’re too good for this exercise? Or that you’ll automatically pass because...because...”
Aimee scrunched her nose, her tone flat. “Because you fucked me above the Great Phoenix two nights ago?”
“Damn it, girl!” His voice was strained. “If I’d known you were a trainee or...or how old you are, that never would’ve happened.”
She cracked one eye open, raising an eyebrow.
He looks like he might throw that stupid book at me, she thought, smiling to herself.
“You’re skilled. That was clear enough,” he continued, his voice tight.
Both her eyebrows shot up higher, and her grin widened.
“At martial arts!”
“Mmm hmmm.” She couldn’t stop herself, savoring how riled up he was getting.
“Look, Aimee.” He dropped to the ground beside her, their eyes now level. His usual air of calm indifference was gone. “I wasn’t lying. This—being a Squad Leader, being responsible for a group of Tanshi—it’s important. Not just to me but to the whole Haven. Please…”
“Don’t ruin it?” she finished for him, her tone softening. As much fun as she was having watching him squirm, she didn’t want to hurt him. She remembered the sincerity in his voice that night and the way he’d questioned if he was truly ready for this responsibility.
“Yes,” he sighed. “Something like that.”
“Look.” She sat up, letting the playfulness drop from her voice. “I’m not trying to ruin it. This is obviously a team-building exercise.”
A quick blink betrayed his surprise.
“Whether or not you actually plan to fail any of us, they need to figure it out on their own.”
His jaw tightened for a heartbeat, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully between his fingers. “How’d you know?”
“Because Kiba...Sensei,” she smiled, the title rolling off her tongue with a hint of amusement. “You don’t strike me as a cruel man. You care about your responsibility. And you care about these Tanshi. Your test was a lie. A team-building exercise was the only logical outcome.”
“Just like that?”
“It’s not like I haven’t been around the block.”
“No, I suppose it’s not.” His voice dropped an octave, sending a flutter of heavy butterflies through her stomach. Damn him.
But then he snapped back, shaking his head. “That crossed a line.”
“Did it now?” she asked, caught between feeling turned on and mildly irritated.
“Yeah, yes,” he repeated, standing abruptly. “There’s a line now, Aimee, and we can’t cross it. I can’t cross it. It would be wrong.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” She pursed her lips in mock frustration.
“I’m serious.” His hand went up to the back of his head, fingers digging into the hair there like he could scratch the words loose. “I tried to get the lineups changed. I even told the Hi Seishō what… happened.”
“You did?” Aimee pushed herself upright, surprise flickering across her face.
“Yes.” His throat bobbed beneath the mask, voice rough. “But he didn’t—” He faltered, searching.
“Care.” Her brow arched, sharp as a blade. “He didn’t care that you’d fucked one of your underage students.”
Of course, he hadn’t. She wasn’t actually sixteen, but the wrinkled old bastard didn’t know that. He treated shinobi like tools, and Aimee had always been an outsider anyway.
Kiba shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I care.” His gaze locked on hers, steady, unflinching. “It was wrong. I was wrong. And it won’t happen again. Is that understood?”
She swallowed, throat tight, eyes tracing the hard lines of his face as something in her shifted—small, dangerous.
“Fine.” She lifted both hands in mock surrender. “You’re the boss.”
“Aimee…”
“What!? I didn’t mean anything! I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” She raised her hand over her chest. “Cross my heart.”
He cast her a measured look, clearly expecting another snarky or flirty comment, but when she didn’t offer one, he gave a slight nod. “At least try to look like you’re after a shuriken, or they’ll think you don’t care.”
Her eyes drifted to the three sharp-edged weapons now tied to his belt, lingering just a second too long. When she glanced back up, she caught the faint flush of red coloring his cheeks beneath the mask.
“Here, I’ll move them,” he mumbled, reaching for the discs, presumably to put them somewhere 'safer.'
“Too late, old man!” She darted forward, extending a hand. She’d play by his rules for now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun while she was at it.
With a flicker of motion so fast she barely registered it, Kiba vanished, his fumbling retreat melting into a seamless, fluid escape. One moment, he was within her reach; the next, he was halfway across the clearing, already tying the shuriken to the pocket of his shirt.
“As if I’d fall for that twice, Tanshi,” he said as he pulled out his book again, eyes lowering to the page as though nothing had happened.
Ohhhh, I’m going to get you, asshole, Aimee thought with a grin, and without another word, she darted after him.
She struck out with a palm, aiming for his midsection, but he sidestepped in a blur, his book still open in one hand. She pivoted, launching another kick, only to feel the rush of air as he ducked under it. His book never wavered.
You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought, her smile stretched further across her face. She could see the small adjustments in his stance, the way his weight subtly transferred from one foot to the other, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
Aimee pressed forward again, launching a barrage of quick jabs and feints, forcing him to abandon the book as the attacks came faster. When he finally snapped it shut and tucked it away, his full attention on her, she smirked, satisfied.
Got you, Sensei.
They moved in a tight circle, her hands darting out in bursts while he blocked or dodged with an ease that made her pulse quicken.
She feinted left, then surged right, reaching for the target, cold steel biting deep enough to draw a thin sting of blood.
But before her grip could close, he twisted away, and the weapon slipped past her hand.
Just out of reach, the shuriken jingled softly in his retreat.
Damn. Panting, Aimee bent over, sucking on the blood now seeping slowly from her hand. Holding back her true speed and skill while going so hard was proving more exhausting than she’d anticipated.
“You almost got him, Aimee!” Taiga shouted from across the field, sprinting toward them. “I bet if we went together, we could do it, no problem!”
“You wouldn’t stand a chance, even with Aimee’s help, loser,” Iruka scoffed as he sauntered out from behind a tree, his usually neat hair now tousled, dark strands falling messily across his forehead.
His clothes were scuffed, and a faint trickle of blood ran down his arm, but his tone was as sharp as ever. Momoka followed, her face flushed, with strands of blue hair sticking out at odd angles.
“It needs to be all of us,” the young girl wheezed, yanking a twig from her tangled locks and tossing it aside.
“Yeah, right!” Taiga barked, though his bravado faltered as Iruka grimaced.
“She’s right,” Iruka said. “We need to work together.”
“But what about the rules? You’ll just keep the shuriken for yourself!” Taiga shot back.
Iruka kept his gaze steady, betraying no emotion. “I guess you’ll have to trust me.”
They’re getting it. Aimee smiled, casting a quick glance at Kiba, who continued to lean against a tree, pretending not to notice.
Taiga stood still as he considered Iruka's plan. Then, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm, he pumped a fist into the air. “OK, let’s do this!”
“Right,” said Momoka, and Aimee nodded.
“Ok. Taiga, you go first from the front. Be a distraction, at least,” Iruka instructed. “Aimee, you and I will flank him. Momoka, look for an opening and take it if you see it.”
He might’ve been a moody little brat most of the time, but he was competent. This would be interesting.
“Who made you the leader?!” The other boy responded.
“For crying out loud, Taiga, just go with it,” Aimee scolded, swatting him on the back of the head.
“Fine.” He huffed, glancing at the others. “Ready?”
They nodded, crouching low in preparation to strike. But before anyone could move, the small silver shuriken flew through the air to land helplessly at their feet.
“Well done, Wolf Squad.” Kiba strolled into the center of the clearing, lunch sacks materializing in his hands. “You all pass.”
The three younger ninja blinked, exchanging baffled looks.
Momoka’s eyes darted from the shuriken to Kiba, then to her teammates, her mouth slightly agape.
Iruka frowned like he was trying to piece together what had just happened.
Taiga, meanwhile, was completely wide-eyed, frozen in place as his brain tried to catch up with what he was hearing.
“WHAT?!?” He exploded, startling a few nearby birds into flight.
Goddamn, is his volume stuck on high? Aimee thought, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
“WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!” Taiga’s head whipped between her, Iruka, and Momoka. “It’s gotta be a trick, right?”
“Idiot,” Iruka muttered, snatching one of the lunch sacks from Kiba and sitting down to eat.
“It...was...a test?” Momoka said slowly before stepping forward to grab her own lunch. “It was a test,” she repeated, sounding almost like she needed to convince herself.
“A test?” Taiga echoed, grabbing the last two lunch sacks and handing one to Aimee. “What the hell kind of test was that?”
Taiga’s question hung in the air, unanswered as they settled on the ground.
A few minutes later, after they’d settled in with the rice balls Kiba had brought, he finally explained the real rules—and why the test mattered.
“Being a shinobi is dangerous. Every day, we put our lives on the line, whether it’s for a paid mission or in direct service to the Haven. You could die at any moment. That’s the reality of this life.”
He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle over them.
“But what you need to understand,” Kiba continued, “is that when it truly matters, you’re not just fighting for the mission or even the Hi Seishō.
You’re fighting for the shinobi standing beside you, the men and women on either side of you.
That’s what truly matters. Your comrades are the most important thing in this life. ”
Momoka raised her hand hesitantly. “But what about the mission? Isn’t that the priority?”
Kiba glanced at her, his visible eye softening just a little. “Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, a mission is so important that sacrifices have to be made for it to succeed. But that sacrifice should never be taken lightly or made in haste.”
His gaze swept over them, settling for a moment on each one. “You should always make every effort to protect your teammates. They are your family. If you don’t protect them...then what are you even fighting for?”
When he stopped speaking, the clearing fell into a deep, contemplative silence. Even Taiga stayed quiet for once. He didn’t even fidget, his usual boundless energy seemingly replaced by reflection.
It was a miracle, really.
Damn, he’s good. Aimee thought, chewing thoughtfully on the savory rice, enjoying its subtle warmth and hint of sesame, never taking her eyes off the Ryōsh. What would it be like to actually get to know the man behind the mask?
“Okay,” Kiba said, climbing to his feet. “Meet me at the river tomorrow at dawn. We have our first mission.”
As he walked away, the other three immediately broke into excited conversation, rehashing the day’s events and Kiba-Sensei’s words.
Aimee remained quiet, watching them. She felt a low, steady certainty deep in her belly that these three were going to shape their world one day.
She could feel it as clearly as the ground beneath her rear.
And the Pattern had chosen Ro Kiba to guide and mentor them.
She couldn’t mess that up. She wouldn’t.
But even as she resolved to settle into her role as Tanshi, as friend and teammate, Aimee knew with that same certainty in her gut that her story with the Squad Leader was far from over.