Daily Life Before the Survival Exercise and a Crisis of Trust in the System

Iruka stood on the podium and tapped the blackboard with a piece of chalk.

"In three days, the entire class will conduct a group survival exercise. Three people to a team, choose your own partners."

The classroom erupted into chaos. A group of children who had only just started school were as excited as if they were heading out on a field trip. Only Shikamaru, in the corner, muttered, "What a drag."

Takuma leaned back in his chair. He didn't take the initiative to find teammates, choosing instead to wait and see who would be left over. He didn't have high expectations for his teammates.

"Um... Mori-san. My name is Yamada Kenta. Are you still looking for a teammate?"

Takuma sized him up. He wasn't a character with a name in the original story. A background character teammate, confirmed.

"What are you good at?" Takuma asked.

Yamada was clearly relieved and hurriedly replied, "I passed all the basic Three Techniques! I'm most proficient with the Substitution Technique, my Transformation Technique is a bit lacking, and I can barely manage two clones..."

He sounded like a textbook theorist. The Three Techniques were the most basic of basics at the Ninja Academy, and being able to pass them all meant he wasn't stupid, at least. Just as Takuma was about to nod, another voice cut in.

"Looking for a team? Add me."

The person who spoke had walked over directly from the side and grinned. "Sato Jiro. My shuriken throwing is pretty good."

"Fine, the three of us it is." Takuma stood up and bumped fists with both of them.

Yamada was visibly relieved, his whole demeanor relaxing significantly. Sato, on the other hand, looked eager to prove himself, pulling a practice shuriken from his pocket and spinning it between his fingers with a rather flashy display.

"What are you good at, Mori?" Sato asked.

"Taking a beating."

The shuriken in Sato's hand dropped to the floor.

Yamada opened his mouth. "...Huh?"

"Just kidding." Takuma waved his hand. "My Taijutsu is decent, and my Chakra reserves are relatively high. Nothing else."

That wasn't entirely a lie. The Chakra reserves and self-healing ability from his Senju bloodline were indeed his biggest assets right now; as for Ninjutsu—he hadn't had time to learn any.

After school, the three of them met at the training ground behind the school for their first coordination drill.

"Let's try some basic coordination first." Takuma stood in the center of the field. "Sato, use a practice shuriken to attack that wooden post. I'll move in for close combat at the same time; let's see if we can time it right."

"Easy!" Sato hooked his index finger, sandwiching three shuriken between his fingers. "Watch closely."

He took a deep breath, flicked his wrist, and the three shuriken flew from his hand.

Takuma was just preparing to move when he suddenly felt something was wrong—danger, from the back left.

He instinctively tilted his head.

A shuriken grazed the back of his head and embedded itself in the tree trunk behind him, its tail still vibrating with a hum.

The training ground was silent for two seconds.

Sato's expression froze on his face.

The kunai in Yamada's hand dropped straight to the ground.

"You—" Takuma slowly turned his head to look at the shuriken that had nearly cracked his skull open. "Where are you aiming?"

Sato's face turned pale at a speed visible to the naked eye, his fingers still held in the throwing posture, unable to retract. "No... I was clearly aiming for the post... You were standing in the same line as the post..."

"So my head looks like a wooden post?"

Who knew if his self-healing ability could fix a brain? He didn't really want to test that personally.

"Forget it, continue. Aim carefully this time."

Sato looked as if he had been granted amnesty, patting his chest and swearing there wouldn't be a second time. This time, he specifically moved to the side to ensure Takuma wasn't in the trajectory, then threw again. The three shuriken traced three arcs and landed together on the post, forming a crooked triangle.

Takuma shook his head and turned to Yamada. "Your turn. Try using the Substitution Technique to match my close-combat rhythm—you use the substitution to draw attention, and I'll cut in from the flank."

Yamada nodded earnestly and formed the hand seals. The Substitution Technique was his best among the basic three, and his execution speed and stealth were quite good. The technique took form, leaving a log in his place while he flashed two meters away.

"Not bad, Yamada!"

"More reliable than Sato." Takuma nodded in approval.

After a few more rounds, their coordination began to take shape.

As the sky darkened, the three packed up to head home. Sato was still muttering about how he would "hit the bullseye every time tomorrow," and Yamada was seriously stating he would go home to practice the Substitution hand seals a few more times.

Takuma didn't go home, heading instead to Tenten's ninja tool shop. Rows of shelves inside were filled with all kinds of tools—kunai, shuriken, senbon, scrolls, explosive tags; the variety was like a small armory.

Tenten was standing on a small stool, trying hard to place a bundle of practice kunai on the highest shelf.

Takuma leaned against the door frame and watched for a while before he couldn't help but ask, "Doesn't your family have a ladder?"

Tenten was startled by the sudden voice and nearly fell off the stool, dropping several of the kunai she was holding. She steadied herself, turned to see it was Takuma, and immediately rolled her eyes. "It's you. You scared me."

"You didn't answer my question."

"The ladder is in the back warehouse; it's too much trouble to move it." Tenten tried again, still unable to reach. "Don't just stand there watching, help me put them up."

Takuma resignedly walked over, took the kunai, and easily placed them on the top shelf. Tenten jumped off the stool, dusted off her hands, and sized him up. "Why are you here on your own today? Looking for a book?"

"Here to mooch some ninja tools."

Tenten's expression instantly switched from "Welcome" to "Are you dreaming?"

"Trying to get a freebie again?" She put her hands on her hips.

Takuma replied righteously, "Can you call it a freebie between childhood friends? This is called resource sharing."

"Who's your childhood friend! How long have we even known each other—"

"Rounding up, it's basically growing up together."

Tenten was choked by his twisted logic, then pulled a bundle of practice kunai from the bottom shelf and threw them directly at him. Takuma caught them with one hand and weighed them; they were enough to last him a while.

"Don't get yourself killed too early." Tenten turned to organize another shelf, her voice as flat as if she were talking about the weather.

Takuma chuckled, pushed open the shop door, and walked out, ready to head home for dinner.

Then he stopped in his tracks.

At a nearby intersection, on a horizontal branch of a large tree, a silver-haired man was leaning against the trunk, holding a small book with an orange cover. His gaze was as focused as if he were reading some peerless secret manual, the black mask that covered half his face for years didn't move an inch, only his fingers occasionally turning a page.

Takuma instinctively lightened his breathing. Hatake Kakashi, the Copy Ninja of Konoha, the future mentor of Team 7.

Judging by that level of focus, he was probably more serious than when he was executing missions in the Anbu.

The system prompt in his mind suddenly rang out.

[Event detected: Konoha technician reading Icha Icha Paradise]

[Event level: Daily iconic scene]

[Witness status: Confirmed valid]

[Witnessing complete—obtained draw chance ×1]

Takuma was stunned for a moment, then quickly ducked into a nearby alley. Confirming no one was around, he took a deep breath and opened the draw interface.

The wheel spun rapidly, a flash of silver-white light passed, and a piece of light, thin fabric fell into his hand—the soft texture shimmered with a mercury-like luster in the moonlight, fine patterns faintly visible on the surface of the cloth, feeling cool to the touch.

[Congratulations to the host, obtained reward: Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak (one-time consumable)]

[Item description: After use, grants 30 minutes of invisibility, covering the user and carried items. Cannot be used partially; the timer starts upon activation and cannot be paused.]

[Note: Don't think about using it to peek in the women's bath. It will fail.]

Takuma looked down at the silver cloak in his hand and remained silent for a long time. Is there no trust at all?

An Invisibility Cloak. A legitimate magical item from the Harry Potter world. The effect was very strong—30 minutes of invisibility was too much for a ninja to do; stealth, escape, assassination, intelligence gathering—it was an artifact-level support tool in any direction. Who would use it for that kind of thing... wait, actually, someone would.

Just how many worlds was his system draw pool connected to? Marvel, Harry Potter, last time there was Hulk's leg hair and milk that never expired; would he draw a Transformer next time?

Takuma folded the Invisibility Cloak and carefully tucked it into the deepest part of his ninja tool pouch. Regardless of how the art style clashed, this was one of the most practical support items he had so far and couldn't be wasted.

When he walked out of the alley, he glanced at the tree. Kakashi was still in the same position, though his page-turning speed had clearly slowed—he had probably reached an important chapter.

Takuma withdrew his gaze and quickened his pace toward home.

Along the way, three things were turning in his mind. First, the survival exercise in three days; the coordination between Yamada and Sato needed more practice, at least to the point of carving the basic concept that "teammates aren't targets" into Sato's muscle memory. Second, how to use the newly acquired Invisibility Cloak—30 minutes wasn't long, but it wasn't short either; used at the right moment, it could have miraculous effects, but used wrongly, it would be a waste. Third, that Kakashi reading Icha Icha Paradise could trigger a witness event meant the system's judgment range was wider than he imagined; he would have to keep an eye out for anomalies in the future.

Pushing open the door to the bookstore, the scent of dinner wafted through the room. His mother poked her head out of the kitchen and said, "Wash your hands and eat," while his father sat behind the counter flipping through that old book he never seemed to finish, looking up to scan him once, his gaze lingering on his ninja tool pouch for a moment.

"Went training?"

"Yeah. There's a survival exercise in three days, practiced coordination with some classmates."

Mori Kazuki nodded, closed the book, and stood up. As he passed Takuma, he lowered his voice and said, "Come to the backyard after you finish eating."

Takuma's chopsticks paused.

It seemed tonight wasn't going to be as simple as just dinner.