Chapter 18: I'm a Kind Person
"Hiiro-kun, we're scheduled for combat sparring this class. Would you rather wait and participate next time?"
Before class, the Sensei—the one who looked very much like a typical Suna shinobi—called Hiiro Rinko over and asked.
Rinko's enrollment time was a bit awkward. For beginners, the initial period of physical training is when growth is most significant. If he had been a second-year transfer student, this teacher, Misawa-sensei, wouldn't have bothered to ask.
Clearly, he was a little worried that Rinko, having just enrolled, wouldn't be able to keep up with the students who had already been training for two months. Even though Chiyo had said Rinko didn't need special treatment, he still gave a warning.
From this, he seemed to be a genuinely conscientious and good teacher.
"It's fine, Misawa-sensei. In fact, I'm rather looking forward to it."
But Rinko, of course, was not going to refuse.
It had been over a month since he had awakened in this world. During that time, he had only had prolonged contact with two shinobi.
No need to even mention Chiyo. She was an elite Jōnin, one of the top masters in Sunagakure, and could undoubtedly tie him in knots without breaking a sweat.
As for his cheap older brother, Yūsa, his few years of combat experience were, in Rinko's eyes, nothing to look at. But he was more than twice Rinko's age, and his advantages in stamina and Chakra were crushing.
Rinko felt that if he were to aim for Yūsa as a target, he would need to train for a while longer. At least until he had mastered the Three Basic Jutsu.
It wasn't that he couldn't fight with Barrier Jutsu or Sealing Jutsu, but he just didn't have enough Chakra. An Uzumaki child was still just a child; if he wasn't developed, he wasn't developed. His current Chakra limit was only about thirty percent of Yūsa's. If they got into a real war of attrition, Rinko would be the one to suffer.
Now that he had a chance to beat up—cough cough, correct, spar with kids his own age, what reason did he have to refuse?
"Heh… alright."
Misawa-sensei thought for a moment. As a child personally brought in by Chiyo, he must have something special about him. Besides, with a Chūnin like himself watching over, there wouldn't be any accidents, so he agreed to Rinko's request.
And so, P.E. class began as scheduled.
"Today's combat sparring will continue with one-on-one matches. Those who haven't been called can warm up first or spar with other classmates."
On the training ground, Misawa, holding a notebook to record student performance, made the by-the-book announcement. He then called the names of two students to come forward.
It was called 'combat,' but how exciting could a fight between first-year Academy students be? After they threw all their shuriken, it pretty much devolved into a 'trash time' of kids pushing each other around.
They didn't even need a real winner. As soon as one of them fell to the ground, Misawa would intervene and call up the next two.
The other students, scattered around, were already used to this. They either started their warm-ups or just gathered in groups to play.
The real show was always the sparring match between Rasa and Pakura.
Rinko looked around for a moment, then walked over to the ninja tool bin at the edge of the field and casually rummaged through it.
"So light..."
As expected, whether it was the kunai or the shuriken, they were wooden training tools, with their tips rounded off. It was obvious that the equipment for first-year students wouldn't be real metal.
But the weight of a wooden product could never compare to a real ninja tool. The light, flimsy feeling really didn't pique his interest.
"Hey, transfer student! You seem pretty arrogant, huh?"
Just then, seeing Rinko walk off to the corner by himself, the boy from earlier felt his chance had come. He called over a few of his usual 'playmates' and approached him.
"Hah? Who are you?"
Glancing at the students surrounding him, Rinko let out a disinterested yawn.
Weak. Very weak.
Their Chakra is thin, their physical fitness is average, and they're trying to surround me but left a massive gap… It's really hard to watch.
"Wha—You better remember me! I am the leader of the 'Invincible Crew', Kintarō!"
It was hard to tell if he was angered by Rinko's provocative (genuinely had no idea who he was) tone or his dismissive (completely spaced out from boredom) gaze, but Kintarō roared with rage, drawing the attention of all the other students who were warming up.
"...Right. And?"
Hearing the hopelessly old-fashioned gang name that didn't even inspire an urge to mock it, Rinko scratched his hair, his voice sounding even more bored.
"I'm 'sparring' with you, and you can't refuse!"
Kintarō arrogantly pointed to the 'subordinates' beside him, his meaning obvious.
Hearing this, Rinko finally understood.
He was so used to his own sensory abilities that he had completely forgotten that children this age had no way of accurately gauging a stranger's strength—especially a peer's.
He had been wondering what these guys were doing here, but this was it.
Ah, I've seen this one before. It's the classic group bullying scenario.
A classic. Straight out of the 'bully playbook'.
"Ehh… I believe I mentioned that I hate troublesome things, didn't I?"
At this thought, Rinko suddenly perked up. He replied in a tone that was trying to be low and threatening, but his lips were visibly twitching to keep from smiling.
Hoh hoh. Not bad. A sandbag is delivering itself right to my door.
Who said the Academy was bad? The Academy is fantastic.
Feeling that his mental state was definitely being affected by his physical age, Rinko didn't think it was a bad thing.
Youth is supposed to be all about spirit! If you're not fired up, what's the point of being young?
"Hah? Who cares what you think!"
Not even giving Rinko a chance to refuse, Kintarō charged at him before he even finished speaking. From the way his expression began to twist halfway through the run, he was probably fantasizing about beating Rinko to a pulp and receiving the cheers of the entire class.
Such a straightforward 'charge' obviously posed no threat to Rinko. He nonchalantly flicked his toe, kicking up several small pebbles from the ground, and then kicked out.
Even with the tiniest thread of Chakra, his leg strength was enhanced enough to send the stones shooting forward like pellets from a slingshot.
With a dull thud, three stones struck Kintarō hard in the shin and knee.
Seized by pain, his leg instantly buckled, and he stumbled, pitching forward toward Rinko.
"I'm a kind person, you see. I can't bear to watch you fall so hard—"
Teasing him, Rinko took a step forward and extended a hand toward the face-planting Kintarō.
The kind of hand that comes up from below.