Chapter 10: Narrative Causality
Kakashi waited until the team had been together six weeks before getting us our first C-rank.
A standard merchant escort job. Three weeks out, three days back (ox drawn carts are painfully slow compared to ninja). Minimal chance of hostile contacts. At worst, maybe a few bandits.
I looked myself over in the mirror carefully.
Long sleeve, faded grey-green shirt (with a normal collar). Darker grey pants. Black ninja sandals.
I tried to find grey sandals too, but apparently those aren't the current style in Konoha.
A kunai pouch hung from my right hip, filled mostly with senbon. My forehead protector was mounted on black fabric tied tight across my brow, keeping my close-cropped black hair out of the way.
Tiny stress lines under my overlarge black eyes. A chin just angular enough to avoid being called weak, but sadly removed from Itachi's bishounen looks. Pale skin, unblemished by exposure to the sun thanks to judicious application of sunblock—almost ghostly next to all the grey and black.
Everything in order.
I made a checklist of necessary supplies for each of us, and nagged my teammates about it until they eventually folded and showed me they packed everything. Particularly the medical supplies.
"Hiroki, I promise, we'll be okay," Nikkei groaned. "We probably won't even see any bandits. It's just going to be a long boring walk through western Land of Fire. You're freaking out the clients, man."
I put my third riffle through the first-aid kit on hold and glanced over at the merchant caravan. Nobody was looking this way. I gave Nikkei a dour look.
Wasabi snickered at my overly intent expression as I resumed the check.
"Why do you always take everything so seriously?"
I thought on my reply while neatly packing everything away. My hands moved by themselves by dint of long practice, letting my mind and body do their own thing.
"The following is purely hypothetical," I began in a monotone voice, "and in no way indicates my views on reality, or should be taken in any way as having valuable informational content. Any replies should be formatted for maximum circuitousness, for reasons which may become apparent."
Bandages. Antiseptic. Staples. Tape. Styptic.
"There exists the possibility that one could imagine such an idea as 'narrative causality'. That everything happens for a reason, and that reason is to make life a good story."
I paused to check the expiration date on a salve.
"Some might postulate that life is a comedy, and thus if we start out a simple, seemingly innocuous mission with a statement superficially similar to one such as 'what could go wrong?', an S-rank missing-nin will attempt to kill us in a horrible and messy fashion."
I looked up.
"Conceivably, for similar reasons, an individual might be heard to exclaim 'I have a bad feeling about this,' whereupon he would be chided by his more confident teammates, brush off the sensation, and be stabbed to death that night while he slept. This would be more in line with a tragedy or drama, serving as a touchstone moment for said teammates as to the seriousness of the job they now find themselves in."
I slung my pack onto my back and faced my surprised teammates.
"Even discussion of concepts such as the aforementioned is no guarantee that events will not proceed in directions concomitant with the aforesaid. It is merely a good defense. It breaks the flow, you see."
Sensei's hand rested on my head, giving my short hair a friendly ruffle.
"Mah, Hiroki-kun, you worry too much. We'll all be just fine."
I restrained the urge to flinch. I closed my eyes for a long breath.
"Why must you hurt me this way, Sensei?"
I could feel him making that infuriating eye-smile as he replied.
"It's my job."
x-X-x
The mission went off without a hitch.
But I don't think I managed more than an hour of consecutive shut-eye the entire month.
The team shared a good laugh.
And I lied.
I promised I'd worry less.
------
Want to jump 30+ chapters ahead right now?
You can read the advanced chapters and support me directly on p 4 treon.
Link in the synopsis & profile: p 4 treon > ForgottenDaoist