Let bygones be bygones

If I had to sum up Mizuki's life over the past few days, "unable to care for himself" would cover all its ups and downs. Someone helped him get dressed and fed him, brought him water when he was thirsty, and rubbed his legs when he was tired. It was a life of comfort that would make anyone envious. Of eating, drinking, relieving oneself, and sleeping, the first two made for a heavenly existence. But ninjas weren't actually immortals. After eating and drinking, they still had to "relieve themselves" and "sleep," didn't they? In just a few days, Mizuki felt as though he'd lost every last shred of dignity and self-respect he'd ever had. It made no difference that the person looking after him was his fiancée. Unless you'd been through it yourself, it was hard to explain the experience to anyone else.

"Memories and experience really aren't the same thing. Even taking over someone's body and assimilating with them doesn't make them the same."

Just like his predecessor Mizuki's ninja experience. He already knew it all inside out, but could someone who couldn't swim learn just by reading a swimming manual ten thousand times? It didn't seem possible.

If this were just an anime or some other kind of entertainment, anything would go, as long as it was fun. But in the real world, everything had to make sense and hold together. A white-collar worker suddenly becoming a combat genius wasn't something just anyone could pull off. Ordinary people were better off steadily building experience and honing their skills. There was no room for too many unrealistic fantasies in a life-or-death struggle—especially since he wasn't the chosen one of this era.

Before heroes sacrificed themselves to save others, they didn't think of Lei Feng or Qiu Shaoyun. Likewise, when Mizuki fought, he had no time to pay special attention to the original Mizuki's combat experience. He wasn't nervously trembling like someone stepping onto a battlefield for the first time, nor did he feel like a hardened veteran who'd killed countless people. He simply relied on his instinct for self-preservation, gradually drawing on his body's combat instincts and experience until he could finally make them his own. You had to splash around in the water to put a swimming manual's techniques into practice and gradually learn to swim. You had to fight to test the various combat methods in your memories and make them your own.

"The divide between body and consciousness really can only be bridged gradually through practice and the passage of time. There's no room to take this lightly." Mizuki couldn't help thinking with a sigh.

"Tsubaki, do you think I should change careers?" Mizuki suddenly asked, eating a tangerine Tsubaki had handed him.

"Huh?" Tsubaki Chie was baffled.

"Look, being a ninja is such a dangerous job. I almost didn't make it back this time. And who knows how much it'll cost to recover completely from these injuries? All the medicine to build up my strength, all this fruit, all this meat and fish—how much will that cost? The pay's nowhere near enough to cover it."

"It's okay. I have money. You can use mine."

"How much could you have? You've been taking leave every day to look after me at the hospital. Your pay must've been practically docked down to nothing. How would that be enough?"

"I still have quite a bit saved up," Tsubaki admitted hesitantly. "I've saved a lot, actually. I was planning to use it after we got married."

Mizuki couldn't help falling silent. She already had the skills of a perfect wife down pat; all she needed was to change careers.

"It wouldn't feel right to keep spending your money," Mizuki continued. "I heard performers in movies make a lot these days. Becoming a star right away might be too ambitious. How about we become a comedy act and perform magic tricks together? You and I could make a pretty good comedy duo. It'd be easy to fool ordinary people with ninjutsu. Once we've built up enough experience, we can act in movies and make big money. What do you think?"

"But—but..." Tsubaki looked reluctant, but didn't know how to argue. "Maybe we shouldn't. What if we opened a flower shop instead? I'm pretty good at growing things..."

"Selling things, huh? That could work," Mizuki said, his thoughts already wandering off somewhere else. "Should we talk it over with Iruka and get the Ninja Academy students to buy from us? Hmm? That might not be appropriate. Their parents would complain. Maybe we could add some new training exercises and have them buy the supplies from me wholesale. What's so hard about throwing kunai at wood? We could have them throw them at flowers instead. That'd be much harder. That's the plan. It'd be easier to swindle funds from the village than to swindle the students' parents. If Iruka doesn't agree, we can give him a share of the profits—twenty percent, plus a little favor. Surely we can talk him into it. Tsubaki, this could work—"

"But..." Tsubaki, already stunned by Mizuki's wild ideas, objected. "Wouldn't it be bad if we got caught?"

Mizuki was about to keep persuading her when he suddenly heard someone cough at the door.

"Lord Third, what brings you here?" Mizuki greeted him awkwardly. The plan to swindle funds hadn't even started, and it already looked doomed. Why hadn't Tsubaki closed the door? She really should've been more careful.

"Lord Third..." Tsubaki hurried to her feet to greet him.

"Don't be nervous. I heard Mizuki's injuries were improving, so I thought I'd drop by," the Third Hokage said kindly. "Though I seem to have overheard something rather interesting."

All Tsubaki could manage was an awkward grin. Mizuki had no choice but to brazen it out. "You must've heard wrong. I've been eating this whole time. I didn't say anything."

"Is that so? Heh." The Third Hokage didn't press the matter. "Ibiki and Aoba told me about your last mission. The village's intelligence was wrong, and you all had a hard time."

"You're giving us too much credit. Ninjas exist for situations like this. Dealing with unforeseen circumstances and completing the mission is our duty."

"Mm." The Third Hokage neither agreed nor disagreed. "The village won't mistreat its own ninjas. You took a heavy loss this time, and you used up a lot of resources. Especially you, Mizuki. Is there anything you need the village to help with?"

"Nothing urgent for now," Mizuki replied modestly. "But my recent research into Sealing Jutsu and summoning has hit a bottleneck. I was wondering if the village had any techniques in those areas."

"Summoning beasts shouldn't be a problem. Although the summoning beasts are closely guarded secrets of many clans, the methods of using them are much the same, and there's nothing particularly special about them. The village will provide you with some materials on the subject."

"Thank you very much."

"Sealing Jutsu is more complicated. Other than a few forbidden techniques, ordinary Sealing Jutsu is already widely known. The remaining materials on sealing arrays and Barrier Ninjutsu usually require a very high level of skill and multiple people working together. Do you need those?"

"I do, Lord Third. Nothing too advanced—just some basic materials will do."

"Very well. I'll have them sent to you along with the others. None of this is particularly important, but I hope it'll be useful. That's about all the village can do to help."

"You're too kind. You've already helped me a great deal. I'm very grateful."

"All right, I'll be going. Make sure you get better soon. The village needs all the hands it can get."

"I understand. Take care, Lord Third."

As the Third Hokage left, Mizuki let out a sigh of relief.

"Tsubaki, make sure to lock the door next time."

"Mm."

The Third Hokage's visit had been a brief interlude, but it gave Mizuki a taste of what it felt like to be deeply honored. His greatest gain wasn't the ninjutsu materials or anything like that. What mattered most was that the Third Hokage had made the village's stance clear: they would let bygones be bygones. That meant he could declare the months-long campaign to clear his name a complete success. Having the village's trust was a big deal. Even if something went wrong later—for instance, if he fell out with Orochimaru and Kabuto Yakushi and they spread rumors that he was a spy—the village wouldn't simply believe the enemy's claims. At the very least, they wouldn't investigate and monitor him openly or in secret as they had until now. At last, the clouds had parted and the moon had appeared.

"Tsubaki, my hair's too long. Cut it for me."

"Okay."

"Give me a Rampo Edogawa hairstyle, the kind that won't get messed up no matter how strong the wind is."

"What's that?" Tsubaki was completely lost in Mizuki's imagination.

"Never mind. A straight, shoulder-length cut, with short, wispy bangs in front."

"Got it."

"Later, I want chocolate fondue, with extra ice cream."

"I don't know how to make that."

"Then get me a big bowl of seafood udon instead. No onions or cilantro, and extra garlic."

A sudden bang rang out. A cloud of chakra smoke billowed, and a burly figure appeared.

"Damn it, are all ninjas this rude? The door's clearly locked, and you still burst in with a racket like that." Mizuki fumed inwardly. "I want to see who's got so little sense that he'd interrupt a couple having a private chat."

When the smoke cleared, Ibiki Morino stood there. Seeing that face covered in terrifying scars, Mizuki swallowed back his anger.

"Isn't that Captain Ibiki? What brings you here so suddenly?"

"I'm no longer captain. The mission's over," Ibiki said seriously. "As for the arrangements for the upcoming Chunin Ninja Exams, your unexpected injury has changed the original assignments. All your patrol and security duties have been canceled. You'll assist as an examiner for the first written test, then serve as a mobile reserve at the Forest of Death for the second test. The third test will take place a month after the second. You should be more or less recovered by then, so for now you're assigned to the visible security detail at the venue, assisting Hatake Kakashi. We'll discuss the specific duties later. Here's your assignment. Take a look."

Mizuki took the assignment sheet, glanced at it, and said, "So you're just letting me slack off during the first and second tests. I never would've guessed that under that scary face, you were such a nice guy, Ibiki. Ha ha, thanks."

"This isn't about letting you slack off." Ibiki Morino's eyebrow twitched. "Forget it. I suppose it amounts to the same thing. Get some rest. I'm leaving." With that, Ibiki opened the door and walked out.

"These people are something else. They've got no manners coming in, and they don't even close the door when they leave. Absolutely shameless, right, Tsubaki?"

"I don't think that's true."

"Never mind. But Tsubaki, you cut my hair crooked..." Once he was discharged, he'd have to find a barber to wash, cut, and style it.