The Month Before the Exams

One month. Thirty days.

Ringo carved thirty marks into the training ground's wooden posts. They were a countdown. Each day that passed, he crossed one out. It was devouring it. Feeding each day into the card slots. Filling them up.

Day one. Training ground.

He set rules for himself. Efficiency. Maximize drop triggers. Maximize synthesis attempts. Precision. At least three white fragments every day. Creation.

The chakra on the training ground had to be beaten out. Boil Release. Mist. Gold. They were tools for squeezing it dry. Every wave of mist spreading triggered something. The surroundings. The wooden posts, the air, the ground, the sunlight. Not the system. The world. Every place dropped something. Nothing large. Fragments. White. But—enough. Thirty days. Thirty cards.

Day ten?

He stood on the training ground. In his card slots: white ×12, purple ×5. Every day. Three cards a day. No more, no less. The system's efficiency was improving. Familiarity.

How could he trigger them faster? Rhythm. Morning. Training ground. Morning dew. Cold. The moment Boil Release activated, mist collided with dew. A difference in temperature. Dew turned into vapor. Vapor turned into chakra. Chakra became fragments. White. The system had no record of drops like this. It was new. "Temperature change." A pattern. A discovery.

Day fifteen.

There was someone else beside the training ground. Not Hinata. Might Guy. He was running beside the field. Doing handstands. Upside down. On one hand. On one finger. Running around the training ground. Bouncing. Youth.

Ringo's system lit up.

[Detected: Taijutsu Fervor Fragment: Gold: Source: Might Guy: Trigger Condition: Taijutsu Limit Training:]

Gold. Training. Training oneself. "I want to surpass yesterday's self." Willpower. Sweat. Evaporating sweat turned into golden fragments in the air. The system had not picked them up; Guy had dropped them himself. Given them to the world. Because his youth was too full. It overflowed. A sharing. "Catch it."

Ringo pressed pick up. He caught it. "What he gave." Being acknowledged. The system did not call it "the rarest drop." But—Ringo knew. This card had been splashed with someone's youth. Its heat. The heat of being alive.

Day twenty.

The card slots were full. White ×12, purple ×5, gold ×2: Wind Cutter, Taijutsu Fervor. And gold+. Boil Release. "Still not enough." The Chunin Exams meant opponents. Gaara was a person. But—Shukaku was a tailed beast. "I need a stronger trump card."

He opened the synthesis panel. Path C. Extreme. Fifteen percent success rate. Fifteen percent. "Most likely, everything will be gone." Everything. Three cards. Boil Release. Taijutsu Fervor. Wind Cutter. If it failed, all three cards. Gone. "They may never come back."

He hesitated. In his mind: Boil Release, Haku. Ice. Fire. Temperature. Zabuza. Hidden Mist. Taijutsu Fervor, Guy. Youth. Sweat. Wind Cutter, his first golden card. The first one he had synthesized himself. "Do I dare?" "Will I regret not trying?" "What if it works?"

He pressed it.

The synthesis slot began to spin. Burning. Three cards. Things belonging to three people. People. Haku. Guy. And Ringo himself. Ice and heat. Blade. The wills of three people. In the same slot. Trust. "Can you be together?"

Fifteen percent. "How much do you believe?"

Boil Release moved first. Mist. Gold. It drew in, becoming a layer of film that wrapped around Taijutsu Fervor. It seeped through. Temperature. And body.

Guy's sweat was energy. Every drop was chakra. "Turn the body into a technique." "The body itself is ninjutsu."

Wind Cutter came last. Guidance. Guiding Boil Release's mist into every movement of taijutsu. Synchronization. The fist was mist. The mist was the fist.

The system lit up. Not gold—but orange.

[Synthesis Successful: Orange: Taijutsu: Boil Release Enhancement: Steam Ninjutsu: Combining Boil Release's high-temperature mist with taijutsu: Every punch: Carries a steam explosion:]

[Warning: Extreme Synthesis: Card Slot Limit: Temporarily -1: Recovery Time: Approximately 30 days:]

Orange. For the first time. Not gold+. Not gold, but orange. A color. "Different." "Unique." "Creation." Not "given by the system," but "made by you."

The card slot limit dropped from six to five. For one month. But—enough. One orange card was different from three golden cards. "One card, the wills of three people." "They're still here. In the orange."

He held out his hand. Clenched his fist. Steam rose from between his fingers. Vapor. Not white, but orange. Heat. "Steam." "Breathing." I am steam.

He punched a wooden post.

It exploded. The post burst from within. The entire post, from its core outward. "Steam-shattered." "Heat." "Every punch is Boil Release." "A kind." "Steam."

Day twenty-five.

The training ground was no longer occupied by just one person. Hinata was there too. They trained separately. She practiced Gentle Fist. He practiced steam. "On the same field." Separately. But—not far apart. Whenever she looked up, she could see him. Whenever he turned his head, he could see her. "Here."

Sometimes, she stopped to watch him. Watching him. "Your chakra changed again. There's another color now. Orange. It's new, right?"

Ringo nodded. He smiled faintly. "You noticed."

Day thirty. The night before the exams.

Ringo sat on the training ground. Looking. Moonlight. Wooden posts. Thirty marks. All crossed out. "Ready." "Just right." Card slots: white ×12, purple ×5, gold ×2, orange ×1. Limit: five. But—every card had a name. "People." "Remembered."

He stood. Rose to his feet. Tomorrow. The Chunin Exams. A battlefield. "Opponents." "Understanding." "Letting more people be remembered."

"Gaara, one month. Thirty days. Have you slept? No.

But—tomorrow, if you are my opponent, I will make you sleep once. I will let you know what it means to be understood.

Just as Haku let me know that being needed requires no reason. Just as Zabuza let me know that it would have been nice if we could go to the same place. Just as Guy let me know what youth is. Just as Hinata let me know what it means to stand side by side."

He walked out of the training ground. Konoha's streets. Night. But—ninjas from every nation were still out there. Land of Wind. Land of Earth. Land of Lightning. Land of Water. "Drop sources." "Opportunities." "Letting more people be remembered."

The system vibrated softly. Not orange—but gold. Boil Release. Not orange—but steam. It was ready.