NoviceAuthor
patreon
[NGS] [ARC-01] Chapter : 03
🕑 Added 2025-04-03 19:07:31 +0000 UTC"GENMA!! Come on out! Let us fan the Flames of Youth on this glorious morning!!!"
That was the ungodly shout that tore me from sleep.
Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and rolled out of bed, already preparing myself mentally to prevent Gai from waking up half the village—or getting me evicted for public disturbance.
“Shut the fck up, Gai!! Some of us are trying to sleep at this hour!”
I had to remind myself—this version of Gai was still a teenager, trying to hype himself up every morning to become stronger. It would’ve been admirable… if it wasn’t so damn loud.
Gai paused. For a second, I thought he might actually take the hint.
Instead, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again—
"My apologies, everyone! Please return to your peaceful slumber!!"
(⊙⊙)
I stood there, stunned. Watching him do this in an anime was one thing—experiencing it in person? A whole different level of absurdity.
BAM.
I nearly tore my front door off its hinges as I stormed outside, fury in every step.
"YOU'RE STILL F*CKING SHOUTING, YOU MORON!!"
BAM. BAM.
A quick and educational beatdown later, the volume dialed down—finally. And now, here we were, running side by side, finishing our 20th and final lap around Konoha.
I glanced at Gai, who was visibly struggling to breathe. The idiot had clearly increased the weight of his leg bands again.
‘Freaking maniac.’
“Gai,” I said, my tone casual, “I’m done with the running for today. Let’s switch it up—how about a taijutsu spar? It's been a week.”
His eyes lit up instantly, despite the fact that he was practically wheezing.
“A youthful suggestion, Genma! Let us engage in a spar that will shake the heavens! But first—my weights must come off!”
I smirked. “Then I’ll take mine off too.”
Genma and Gai launched themselves off the ground, clashing mid-air as their taijutsu spar ignited with explosive energy.
Blow after blow was exchanged in rapid succession—Genma’s precise, composed Konoha-style clashing against Gai’s wild, relentless Strong Fist. For a while, the battle seemed evenly matched. Gai was quicker on his feet, his agility borderline ridiculous. But Genma’s edge came from razor-sharp reflexes and seasoned experience. He could track Gai’s movements, anticipate his next strike, and respond with perfect timing.
Every time Genma went in for a counter, Gai would twist, pivot, or duck—dodging by a hair’s breadth and immediately changing angles.
“Gai, I’m kicking this up a notch!” Genma called out, a glint of excitement flashing in his eyes.
He began channeling chakra into his legs, his speed and acceleration surging with a sudden burst. Gai’s answering grin was full of fire—undaunted and eager.
From that moment on, the rhythm shifted.
Genma’s enhanced speed let more strikes connect. Out of every ten hits, Gai could only dodge two or three. The rest landed—clean and heavy. But if Gai felt the pain, he didn’t show it. He kept pressing forward, eyes locked, never losing that gleam of burning will.
Realizing he couldn’t keep up like this for long, Gai suddenly leapt back, putting space between them.
Genma lunged forward to stop him, sensing a shift—something was coming.
But it was too late.
"Eight Inner Gates: Gate of Life—Open!"
With an explosive surge of energy, Gai unleashed the Third Gate, his aura flaring like wildfire.
What the hell?! Genma’s eyes widened. He skipped straight to the third gate?!
Wasting no time, Genma channeled even more chakra into his legs, his muscles tightening with power. Gai, fired up and hell-bent on victory, charged with blinding speed.
What followed could barely be called a spar—it was a storm.
The air cracked with the sound of fists colliding, kicks crashing into flesh and stone. But to the naked eye, there was nothing to see—only blurs of motion and the tremors left in their wake. The sheer speed and force behind their movements were beyond ordinary perception.
In the midst of the fray, Gai suddenly drew his nunchaku, the chains spinning with deadly precision. Genma responded in kind, smoothly pulling out a kunai in each hand, holding them in a reverse grip. The lazy glint in his eyes had vanished—replaced by cold focus and a quiet, calculating resolve.
This wasn’t about overpowering Gai.
It was about enduring him.
Genma’s plan was simple: wear Gai down, let him burn through the energy of the opened gate, and strike when the fire dimmed. He didn’t need to win—just survive long enough.
And right now, that felt like the biggest challenge of all.
—
In the end, it was Genma who remained standing—barely. Victory hadn’t come easy. His shoulder throbbed from a solid hit Gai had landed, and a dark bruise was already forming on his cheek. Across from him, Gai lay flat on the training ground, arms and legs splayed, chest heaving with labored breaths. He couldn’t even lift a finger, let alone move.
'Damn… that was jonin-level taijutsu.' Genma's eyes narrowed, watching his unconscious friend with a mix of awe and frustration. 'He held the Gate of Life open for over ten minutes. At this rate, he’ll qualify as a special jōnin in taijutsu before long.'
Sighing, Genma rolled his shoulder with a wince. “Idiot nearly killed himself just for a spar,” he muttered, already crouching beside Gai’s limp form.
He’d have to carry this fool back to the hospital—again. Chakra exhaustion was bad enough, but Genma knew from experience that the muscle tears and strain from overusing the Inner Gates would be worse.
“Come on, Gai,” he murmured, slinging the unconscious boy over his shoulder. “Let’s get you patched up before your Flames of Youth burn you out completely.”
—
"How are my lungs, doctor?"
"They don’t seem too damaged for now, Genma-san. But are you sure this is from smoke inhalation during a mission?" the doctor asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"It feels more like a smoking issue..."
"That may be," I admitted with a sheepish grin. "But I also did inhale a good amount of smoke during my last mission—there was an incident. Could you, uh, clean things up in there?"
The doctor sighed, pulling off her gloves with practiced grace. “Fine. But next time, I’m not doing this for free. You really need to quit smoking, you know.”
Shizuka—only twenty, already a talented medical-nin, and absolutely stunning—gave me a disapproving look. Her tone was stern, but there was a teasing edge behind it, the kind that made you wish the scolding would last just a little longer.
“Hahaha… Sure thing, Shizuka-san.” I laughed, knowing full well I had zero intention of quitting anytime soon. 'Addiction's a hell of a thing. So is pretending you're not addicted.'
“Well, I might consider it… if you agreed to go on a date with me,” I said with a playful grin.
She rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “In your dreams, Genma-san.”
With that, she turned on her heel and walked out to check on her next patient. I sat there, watching the way her long, black hair swayed behind her—left to right, like a metronome ticking away at a fantasy I knew would never be real.
After all, she was an Uchiha. For them, dating or marrying outside the clan was an unspoken taboo—just like it was with the Hyuuga.
I leaned back on the cot with a sigh. It was foolish, but still…
Some fantasies are too beautiful to let go of, even when you know they’re forbidden.
That Evening at the Dango Shop
“I heard you and Gai had another spar this morning. How’d it go?” Kurenai asked casually, taking a delicate bite of her dango. She wore a dark-hued dress cinched with a pale sash at the waist. Compared to the elegant, flowing robes she’d wear later as a jōnin, this look was simpler—practical. Functional. Her shoulder-length hair framed her face, and the faint glint of fishnet armor peeked from beneath her sleeves and collar. Everything about her said kunoichi first, woman second.
“I heard about it too,” Aoba added, adjusting his signature tinted glasses as he slid onto the bench beside us.
It had become our unspoken tradition to meet here—at Konoha’s most famous dango shop—whenever we were all in the village. A little corner of normalcy amidst the chaos of shinobi life.
We swapped updates on recent missions as we waited for our orders.
Aoba and Iwashi had just returned from a border patrol near the Land of Wind. Nothing particularly eventful.
Kurenai, meanwhile, had been assigned to a bodyguard mission in the Tea Country alongside two other chunin. They encountered a few bandits on the way back, but again, nothing worth writing home about.
Still, there was a heaviness around her. A quiet melancholy she didn’t bother hiding. It had been about a month since Asuma left for the Daimyō’s palace to join the Twelve Guardian Ninja. This was the first time she’d joined us since then.
I didn’t comment on it. None of us did. Sometimes, silence is the only form of respect you can offer.
Raido and Ebisu were still out on missions.
And Gai? He was recovering in the hospital—no doubt grinning through the pain, probably already begging the med-nin to let him train again.
Well, he’s recovering from chakra exhaustion after pushing himself too far with the Eight Inner Gates,” I said, sipping my tea. “His taijutsu is improving at an insane rate. Honestly, he’s already the best among you in that field. At this pace, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s promoted to special jōnin in taijutsu within a few months.”
“What? He’s gotten that good?” Iwashi blurted out, eyes wide.
“Damn,” Aoba muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We really need to step up our training, or he’s going to leave us in the dust.”
Kurenai fell silent, her expression clouding with thought. She was the genjutsu prodigy of their generation, a natural talent. But it was becoming clear—Gai was pulling ahead. His relentless drive was paying off, and it made her think about her own future… about how far she’d come and how far she still had to go.
Then something clicked in her mind.
“…Wait a minute. You said he’s the best among us in taijutsu. Does that mean—you beat him? Even when he used the Eight Inner Gates?”
“Yup,” I said simply, casually popping another piece of dango into my mouth. I wasn’t one for bragging. Let my actions speak louder than words.
The silence that followed was heavy, stunned.
Three mouths hung open in disbelief.
They all knew Gai was a monster when it came to taijutsu—second only to Kakashi, but then again, Kakashi was in a league of his own, a genius outlier. They never used him as a benchmark. Genma, on the other hand, had always been the all-rounder. Solid in every field, but never exceptional. Never the best. Reliable, but not remarkable.
That was their impression of me.
They had seen me train harder this past year, sure. But everyone had a limit—whether it was physical, mental, or something else. So they hadn’t expected much. Not really.
But now?
Now they were being forced to reevaluate everything they thought they knew about me.
After a brief round of questions about the spar, most of which Genma answered with frustrating vagueness, the group let it go. They settled into the comfort of familiar banter, the kind that only old friends could share—stories from their Academy days, their Genin missions, the stupid things they'd done and narrowly survived.
But like smoke curling in from a distant fire, the conversation inevitably drifted toward the Third Shinobi World War.
To the comrades they’d lost.
The laughter faded. No one dared open that particular box of memories—not without a bottle of sake between them.
“I’ll be back in a bit…” Genma muttered, pushing away from the table and stepping out of the dango shop.
“Where’s he going?” Kurenai asked, frowning slightly.
Iwashi glanced at the door, then answered, his tone softer than usual. “He picked up Asuma’s smoking habit. Doesn’t light up often—just sometimes, when...”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.
“Oh…” Kurenai murmured, her expression falling. After a few moments of silence, she asked again, more hesitantly this time, “Why doesn’t he just smoke here? Asuma never used to step out like that.”
“I asked him that once,” Iwashi said, shrugging. “He said he didn’t want the smoke to bother anyone.”
Kurenai fell silent again, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.
For a while, the group sat in a lull, lost in their own thoughts—until Iwashi, unable to sit still for long, turned to Aoba with a mischievous grin.
“Oi, Aoba… How’s that girlfriend of yours from the grocery store, hmm?”
Aoba’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. “W-What?!”
Before he could escape, Iwashi grabbed him in a headlock, snickering.
“No way! I’m gone for a few days and you’ve already snagged a girlfriend?” Kurenai joined in with an amused smirk.
“Oh, you don’t know the full story,” Iwashi said with a dramatic flourish. “He’d been trying to ask her out for weeks—but the poor guy kept fumbling. So one day, Genma just walked up to her and asked if she’d go on a date… for his friend.”
Kurenai raised an eyebrow. “Wait… and she said yes?”
“Oh, she said yes alright,” Iwashi said, grinning like a fox. “She said she’d love to go out with Genma!”
He slapped the table, erupting into uncontrollable laughter.
“Pfft—” Kurenai tried to suppress a giggle, but it broke free, and soon she was laughing along with Iwashi.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Genma stepped back inside, a faint scent of smoke still clinging to him.
“Whoa, what’s so funny? Come on, I want in on the joke,” he said, glancing around the table with curiosity.
Aoba slumped in his seat, burying his face in his arms. “Genma… just shut up,” he groaned, his voice muffled by the table.
They spent a little longer at the dango shop, squeezing out a few more laughs at Aoba’s expense. The light teasing, the warm company—it was the kind of evening that felt rare these days. Eventually, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long golden shadows across the village, they decided it was time to call it a night.
Iwashi and Aoba left first, still bickering like siblings.
Since Genma and Kurenai lived in the same direction, the two of them began walking together. The village was quieter now, its usual bustle winding down with the day. For a while, neither of them said anything, letting the silence settle comfortably between them.
Then Genma broke it.
"Hey… I’ve been trying to get a grip on a new genjutsu—you’ve probably heard of it. The Bringer of Darkness. A-rank. Think you could help me out?"
Kurenai blinked, a little surprised at the request. It wasn’t often someone asked her for help with genjutsu—not unless they were serious. But after a moment, she nodded.
“I’ll help you,” she said simply.
As they neared her home, Kurenai glanced over and spoke again, her voice softer this time. “Thanks… for smoking outside earlier. I mean it.”
Genma shrugged with a faint smile. “Don’t mention it. Honestly, I was never comfortable when Asuma smoked around everyone either.”
“…Yeah. Me neither,” she murmured, her eyes distant for a heartbeat.
“Well then,” Genma said, stopping just short of her doorstep. “See you later, Kurenai. Good night.”
With a flicker of chakra and a whisper of wind, he vanished in a shunshin, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.
Kurenai stood there for a moment longer, staring at the empty space where he had just been, before turning toward her door.
Back home, Genma dropped onto his bed with a sigh and finally glanced at the blinking notification that had been pulsing in the corner of his vision since the spar with Gai.
Congratulations!
Chakra Control has reached 200. You’ve unlocked: Basic Sensory Abilities.
You can now sense chakra within a 10-meter radius.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Well... that’s new."
'Status'
Name: Genma Shiranui
Age: 17
Chakra Capacity: 49700/49700 (Jonin)
Strength: 110/500
Endurance: 160/500
Durability: 113/500
Agility: 112/500
Chakra Control: 200/500
Taijutsu: 175/500
Ninjutsu: 200/500
Genjutsu: 100/500
Bukijutsu: 150/500
Fuinjutsu: 160/500
Sensory Jutsu: 50/500
Chakra Affinities:
Fire (Advanced)—Master of Fire Chakra nature.
Lightning (Adept)—Know five Lightning-style ninjutsu.
Water (Adept)—Know five Water-style ninjutsu.
