Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter Nineteen: Return to the Camp

The inevitable clash between old and new powers often leads to the emergence of heroes and villains alike. Like a towering tree, some branches bask in sunlight while the roots delve deep into darkness. Amid these turbulent times, Hayama sought only one thing: to avoid becoming a pawn in someone else's game.

As these thoughts churned in his mind, he approached the hospital's inpatient wing. Before he could enter, peals of laughter floated out from within.

"Ha! I have to tell you, Hayama was such a strange child. Never cried, never fussed, and he almost never wet the bed. So well-behaved!"

Hearing his mother's proud tone brought a small smile to Hayama's face. Her happiness always made him happy. But then her next revelation made his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"There was this one time when he was two, I took him to the bathhouse. Once he saw the sauna, he wouldn't go near the pool—he insisted on sitting in the sauna for hours! Nearly got cooked in there. After that, he kept begging me to take him back, saying he loved baths!"

Hayama froze. That never happened! I'm going to have to sue her for defamation, he thought.

Desperate to stop any more embarrassing stories, he pushed the door open and walked in, holding up a box of sweet dumplings. "Mother, I brought your favorite dumplings, and I thought—"

He trailed off. The scene inside the room made him stop mid-sentence, and he instinctively hid the box behind his back.

Five people sat cross-legged on the floor. In their midst was a bubbling hot pot surrounded by an array of dishes, even a couple of bottles of sake. His mother—supposedly recovering—now looked sprightly, deftly picking out choice cuts of meat to place in Chika's bowl.

Without so much as a glance at him, his mother continued feeding Chika. The girl, noticing his awkward silence, cheekily stuck out her tongue before resuming her lively chatter with the others.

Hayama: What the… (0.0)

Thankfully, one of the chatty aunts waved him over. "Come join us, Hayama."

His mother, however, was not amused. She snorted and demanded, "Out gallivanting again tonight?"

"I was just catching up with a friend. See, I'm back here with you now," he said, trying to sound earnest.

"Drinking?"

"Not a drop."

"Good. Then finish this bottle with us," she said, pushing a sake bottle towards him.

"…Huh?" Hayama looked at her, confused.

"Drink it. You're old enough."

"Mom, I'm fifteen. I'm not allowed to drink."

"Fifteen my foot! You're sixteen by now!"

"…"

Luckily, Chika stepped in to smooth things over, sparing Hayama from downing the sake.

After helping clean up, Hayama gave his mother her nightly medicine. Once she was asleep, he quietly left the hospital room and headed home, looking forward to a much-needed rest.

Back at the house, he caught Chika just as she was heading upstairs. Handing her a bundle of cash, he said, "Here, take this."

"What for?" she asked warily, instinctively crossing her arms as if shielding herself.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just your living allowance," he replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh, wow! I didn't think you'd be this generous," she said, beaming as she accepted the money.

"Just do me a favor. Spend some time with my mother at the hospital whenever you can. She really enjoys having you around," he added.

"Sure thing, don't worry!" she chirped, hurrying upstairs, likely eager to count her newfound fortune.

Shaking his head, Hayama returned to his own room, eager to finally get some sleep.

…

The next morning, Hayama handed in his papers at the gate and set off toward the border camp. This trip to the Land of Frost had been more fruitful than he'd anticipated. He had acquired two powerful jutsu: Earth Release: Ant Hell and Fire Release: Flame Bullet. The former was excellent for trapping and neutralizing enemies, while the latter offered widespread destruction. With these techniques, his combat capabilities had significantly increased, leaving him better prepared for future challenges.

As Hayama quickened his pace, his mind turned to his training regimen. He couldn't wait to hone his new skills further, knowing they would enhance both his offense and defense. And as for the brewing conflict in the Land of Rain—so long as it didn't involve him directly, he had little interest in the outcome.

…

Half a year flew by. It was now July of the thirty-ninth year of the village's founding.

Over the months, Hayama's team had tirelessly patrolled the expansive 400-kilometer border. The work was grueling but uneventful; not a single fight had broken out. After completing his rotation, Hayama received another B-ranked patrol assignment and stepped out of the mission office.

Outside, Shiroyama Jin and Yamanaka Yura were waiting. Seeing him approach, they stopped chatting and quietly followed him out of the camp.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Hayama spoke. "Same as always. This time we're heading to Sector E."

Shiroyama Jin didn't seem surprised. Patrol duty in the border units was steady and straightforward, meant to hone one's endurance and discipline. Jin glanced at Hayama and noted the changes over the past six months. The once boyish-looking team leader had grown taller and more solid. His unremarkable features now bore a steady, resolute expression—a stark contrast to what one would expect of a fifteen-year-old.

Seeing that his teammates had no questions, Hayama offered a word of caution. "The situation at the frontlines in the Land of Rain is heating up. I think the decisive battle is just days away. No matter how it turns out, we need to be ready for the worst."

Yura frowned slightly. "You mean we should be prepared for small enemy infiltration groups?"

Hayama nodded, pleased by her insight. Months of patrols had clearly honed her abilities. She was no longer the complaining, disinterested teammate she had once been. Instead, she was focused, disciplined, and reliable.

"Yes. If Konoha suffers another defeat, Sunagakure might seize the chance to take over the entire Land of Rain. From there, they could easily push into the Fire Country."

Jin and Yura exchanged grim glances and nodded in agreement. In times of war, caution was never misplaced. Their survival depended on it.

With a brisk command, Hayama led his team into the familiar wilderness, embarking on another month-long patrol.

…

Meanwhile, deep within the Land of Rain, a village lay in ruins after a fierce battle. The ground was soaked with blood and littered with the remnants of shattered homes. Uchiha Fugaku sprawled in the mud, rain pouring down his face as he struggled to catch his breath.

The memory of the recent battle haunted him. How had that elite Sunagakure unit managed to slip behind their lines and turn the tide so decisively? The bitter truth gnawed at him: this wasn't just a tactical blunder—there had to be betrayal at the highest levels of Konoha.

Everything was lost. The Senju and Uchiha clans hadn't just been defeated on the battlefield; they had been outmaneuvered politically as well. They had underestimated their rivals' desperation, the lengths to which those in power would go to maintain their grip.

Fugaku clenched his fists in the muddy ground. To hell with the Will of Fire. To hell with trust and loyalty. To hell with the village's unity. In the face of power, all those lofty ideals were meaningless.

Forcing himself to his feet, Fugaku rallied a few remaining Konoha shinobi he encountered and began the grueling march back toward the Fire Country. His body ached, and his spirit was battered, but the primal instinct to survive drove him onward.

As he and his battered comrades pressed forward, a Sunagakure tracking unit quietly picked up their trail. Silent as shadows, they followed, their movements as relentless as the rain.

…

Unaware of the drama unfolding in the Land of Rain, Hayama continued his patrol. Border patrols were far more arduous than standard wartime patrols. The vast territory required constant movement and vigilance. However, with only three members, Hayama's team couldn't afford to split up too much. He decided to have them pair off for the most dangerous segments, ensuring no one faced unexpected threats alone.

The repetitive grind of patrolling had its merits. It sharpened the team's instincts, strengthened their chakra control, and tested their endurance. Each day brought new challenges, even if no enemy appeared.

Late one night, Hayama finished logging his team's patrol routes and grabbed a quick bite before heading out to relieve his teammates. Despite the long hours and constant movement, he had grown accustomed to the grueling pace. A few hours of sleep were all he needed to feel refreshed and ready.

Reaching the designated meeting point, Hayama waited in the darkness. The moonlight was gone, hidden behind thick clouds. His unease grew as the minutes ticked by, and his teammates failed to appear.

Then, faint footsteps broke the silence. Instantly alert, Hayama slipped into the shadows, kunai in hand. His sharp eyes scanned the darkness, ready to strike at the first sign of danger.