The Forgemage of Konoha

Request

The next day, Shirō and the others arrived at Nakamura's room for their post-mission debriefing. This was standard procedure for most ninja squads—an opportunity to reflect, identify weaknesses, and grow stronger through open communication.

But today's meeting wasn't just about evaluation.

As soon as Shirō, Shikamaru, and Tai Yi stepped inside, Nakamura stood up and bowed solemnly.

"Everyone... I apologize. I have a selfish request, and I hope you'll consider it."

"Nakamura-sensei, there's no need for all that!" Shikamaru responded quickly. "Just say the word. How can a teacher be so formal with his students, right, Tai Yi?"

Tai Yi nodded. "Exactly. But... Shirō, what do you think?"

Though they trusted Nakamura implicitly, Shirō was still relatively new to the team. They had only worked together for a short time, and while bonds were forming, his opinion still carried a level of caution from the others.

"It's fine," Shirō said calmly. "We're on the same team now. Captain, just tell us what you need. I'll help however I can."

Nakamura exhaled deeply, then said something none of them expected.

"I want this mission to be reported as a failure. I've already confirmed—there were no Intelligence Division operatives near the battle site yesterday. So I want to mark the mission as failed in the report."

"...!"

There was a brief silence.

Shikamaru and Tai Yi instinctively glanced at Shirō. For them, with established clan support and several completed missions under their belts, a failed assignment was inconsequential.

But for Shirō, this had been his first official mission as a Chūnin. A failure on his debut could leave a lasting blemish on his record—one that might affect future assignments, recommendations, and opportunities in the upper ranks of the Konoha hierarchy.

And Shirō had shown serious potential. Not just as a capable fighter, but also as someone with a personal Summoning Contract with Ryūchi Cave. That alone would catch the Hokage's eye, let alone his performance using a powerful family Secret Technique.

Assuming he lived long enough, Shirō had every chance to rise among the elite.

Still, Shirō didn't seem bothered. He had no desire to become Hokage. To him, only true strength mattered in the ninja world—not political advancement or decorated records.

More importantly, he understood Nakamura's motives.

This wasn't about merit or punishment.

Shimizu—Nakamura's old comrade—had defected from the village and died in the skirmish. As a missing-nin, Shimizu's body would've been taken back to Konoha for interrogation and autopsy to determine the reasons for his betrayal. Some corpses, especially those of skilled ninja, could reveal everything—bloodline limits, techniques, even mission history.

And Nakamura couldn't bear that.

Shirō respected his sentiments.

Of course, what ultimately convinced him was Nakamura's earlier confirmation: "There were no Intelligence Division shinobi in the area."

If there had been any witnesses, falsifying the report would be tantamount to treason.

"I have no objections," Shirō finally said. Then he grinned. "But, Captain, from now on, you'll have to guide my Ninjutsu training. No favoritism now."

Nakamura exhaled in visible relief. "Of course. You'll get your fair share of training. But you already have a powerful clan technique—do you really need my minor teachings?"

"Yeah, Shirō," Shikamaru chimed in. "Your Secret Technique is already insane. Isn't that enough?"

Even Tai Yi's usual coolness softened. His gaze toward Shirō held less reservation now.

It was a natural outcome. Integrating into any close-knit squad took time. Most people used effort and sincerity—Shirō offered a tangible compromise, which spoke volumes of his loyalty and commitment.

"No, my Secret Technique drains way too much chakra," Shirō explained. "Right now, it's a trump card at best. And besides, the more skills you have, the better your chances of survival."

"That's true..." Nakamura chuckled. "If only Shikamaru were half as diligent, I wouldn't have to worry so much."

"Hey, hey, don't drag me into this just because you're feeling emotional!" Shikamaru protested.

"It's because you're lazy," Tai Yi said with a smirk. "Now that I'm finally syncing with my Sharingan, you're going to fall behind."

"Fine, fine. Being at the bottom isn't so bad. Training's a pain. As long as I'm strong enough to handle my missions, I'm good."

"You really are... hopeless." Nakamura sighed, smiling bitterly.

The Nara clan laziness was legendary—almost as well-known as their brilliance. Even the 'true fragrance' principle couldn't save them.

After some more discussion and questions, Nakamura dismissed the team.

As they were leaving, Nakamura called out, "Thank you… all of you."

"Haha, what are students for, if not to support their teacher?" Shirō replied.

"Yeah, Nakamura-sensei, it's just one mission. We Uchiha don't sweat the small stuff."

"It's alright, but..." Shirō added with a grin, "my food expenses might be a problem. We're not exactly a rich clan. You'll have to cover me for a while, Captain!"

"Hah, I've got you covered," Nakamura smiled. "Don't worry."

"Haha, then I'll go buy supplies before Kushina-san skins me alive!"

"Go on then," Nakamura waved him off. "No rush this time. I'll work on your training schedule while we travel back. We'll be heading out on another mission soon. I'll file the report to Hokage-sama myself."

"Alright! See you soon."

---

Shirō wandered the marketplace for a while, buying supplies and a few gifts. Only afterward did he realize that this habit of his—giving small tokens—was starting to become a financial burden.

In his past life, he'd been a shut-in. Spending a little now and then wasn't a big deal. But in this world, he was giving gifts way too frequently.

At this rate, he'd be eating dirt by next month.

He decided he'd change his approach next time. For now, he'd make do with what he bought. After all, one more time wouldn't hurt.

Once his shopping was complete—it was only midday. Shirō never liked wasting time. He didn't window shop. He entered stores with a clear idea, grabbed what he needed, paid, and left. Efficiency mattered.

Of course, if funds were low, he would still browse a bit more carefully. But generally, he avoided indulgence. His strength didn't allow for luxury.

Now that he was done, Shirō headed back to training.

The last battle had been the first time he'd unleashed a Noble Phantasm, and he had learned a lot. Too many flaws had surfaced—both in control and judgment.

He had to reflect carefully.

For instance, his reckless strategy against the minor snake during the test was incredibly immature in hindsight. There were far safer ways he could've passed without gambling on uncertain risks.

But the past couldn't be changed.

All he could do now was grow stronger—and make sure he never had regrets again.