Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

Ever since realizing a certain possibility, Sasuke had, for the first time, found himself uneasy about his brother coming home.

Had that man already told Itachi what happened on the training ground?

The thought clung to him even after he lay down, refusing to fade.

”Are you waiting for your brother?”

Mikoto looked at her younger son, who kept shifting beneath the covers, and gently brushed her fingers through his black hair.

”After the gathering, he may still have Anbu duties,” she said softly. ”He won’t be back so soon.”

”I’m… sleeping, Mom,” Sasuke replied at once.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feigning sleep, and listened as the door was quietly closed behind her. The room fell silent, broken only by the loud thudding of his own heartbeat.

He lay stiff as a corpse, yet his senses were painfully alert—catching the whisper of wind outside, the rustle of leaves, and the faint, distant footsteps that occasionally passed.

Just as he thought he might finally drift off, a sound reached his ears.

The front door opening.

Sasuke pulled back the covers, slipped out of bed, and eased his bedroom door open. He crept down the hallway, step by careful step, until voices from the front yard reached him.

”You’re back?” his father asked.

”Yes.”

”What happened?”

Sasuke’s breath caught.

Wasn’t it supposed to be a dinner? Or was it Anbu work, just like Mom said?

”Moe and Kenichi performed poorly in the combat exchange with Kumogakure,” Itachi replied calmly. ”Hokage-sama was dissatisfied with the performance of this batch of Genin.”

Moe… Kenichi… Sasuke searched his memory. Clan members who had graduated years ago but never made Chunin. Poor performance… so they lost?

His lips pressed together unconsciously.

If it were my brother, he wouldn’t lose.

If it were me…

”What about Shingo and Shoji?” Sasuke blurted out.

”The Chunin performed adequately overall.”

”So… just ordinary,” Fugaku said, his voice noticeably lower.

”Most Sharingan users are assigned to the Police or Anbu and cannot participate in such events,” Itachi continued. ”Hokage-sama understands this and is not dissatisfied with us.”

”These exchanges will only become more frequent,” Fugaku said gravely. ”The championship you won back then had limited long-term impact, Itachi. If we fail to produce outstanding results in the future, it will damage the Uchiha’s reputation. Do not forget why we were forced to give up—”

”Father.”

Fugaku exhaled softly. ”Sasuke. It’s late.”

He’d been found.

Sasuke stiffened and awkwardly stepped out from the shadows.

”Father. Brother.”

Itachi turned to him, his gaze gentle. ”Can’t sleep?”

”…No. I just…” Sasuke faltered.

”Go rest,” Fugaku said. ”You have class tomorrow.”

Sasuke nodded and turned to leave. After two steps, he paused and looked back.

”Father,” he said quietly, ”I will live up to the Uchiha name.”

It was a promise.

Today’s failure would be the last.

”Sasuke.”

Itachi smiled, and Sasuke’s heart leapt into his throat.

”Y-yes, Brother?”

”Get a good night’s sleep.”

The tension drained from his chest in an instant.

”Yes! Brother!”

So… Roshi wasn’t the type to talk unnecessarily after all.

That thought finally allowed Sasuke to return to bed, his worries settling into uneasy silence.

Sasuke’s thoughts burned with ambition, determined to restore the Uchiha’s prestige tomorrow. He could tolerate being caught off guard, but he absolutely would not allow anyone to think the Uchiha were nothing special.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep. By the time he opened his eyes again, dawn light was already spilling into the room.

He was still groggy… but he forced himself up anyway—washed, ate, and prepared to head out.

His older brother was still home at this hour. It seemed Itachi was on leave today.

”Sasuke, didn’t you sleep well?” Itachi asked.

”…A little.” Sasuke rubbed his eyes, then looked up at him with barely concealed hope. ”Are you coming with me to school today, Brother?”

Itachi reached out and lightly tapped Sasuke’s forehead with one finger.

”Next time.”

Sasuke rubbed his forehead, lips pursed. ”It’s always ’next time.’ I don’t even expect you to actually come anymore.”

He turned away in a huff, about to leave.

”Sasuke.”

He stopped. ”…What now, Brother?”

Itachi met his eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips—one that instantly made Sasuke’s scalp prickle.

”Next time you spar with someone,” Itachi said calmly, ”don’t let your attention wander.”

Sasuke’s face went red in an instant, as if steam might start pouring out of his ears.

That guy… he really is awful!

And that wasn’t even a spar—that was a sneak attack!

—

Nara Shikaku hadn’t returned yet, but the report on the exchange competition had already reached the village.

The conclusion was blunt: this batch of Konoha Genin had performed poorly in the arena, while the Chunin barely managed to save face.

Because of that, Tsunade’s mood had been foul all night. When Roshi finally lifted his aching head from the mountain of paperwork, what greeted him was still the Fifth Hokage’s dark expression.

”It’s just that the Genin didn’t perform well,” Roshi said, rubbing his face.

”What, did you lose a bet?”

”I almost placed one!” Tsunade slammed her hands on the desk and interlaced her fingers. ”Damn it! The odds were clearly in our favor! But as Hokage, I can’t gamble on matches involving my own village.”

”After all,” Roshi said once she’d cooled slightly, ”there were three Chunin Exams within two years. The year before last followed the normal promotion cycle, and last year had two exams back-to-back.”

”Anyone who participates in external competitions through public missions must be promoted if their performance meets the standards. That’s Village policy.”

”When the exams are hosted on our home ground, anyone who shines in front of the public becomes impossible to ignore.”

”This year’s Genin were restricted to within three years of graduation. Weaker performance is… expected.”

”Since you didn’t actually bet, a loss within reasonable margins shouldn’t make you this angry.”

Tsunade glared at him and declared indignantly, ”I may not have placed the bet, but I already decided the winner and loser in my heart! How is that any different from losing?”

”If that’s the case,” Roshi said evenly, ”then next time, I’d suggest you mentally bet on the opponent instead. It might produce unexpected results.”

A crumpled paper ball smacked him squarely on the forehead.

”What nonsense are you spouting! I am the Hokage!”

”Exactly because you’re the Hok—”

Two more paper balls struck him before he could finish.

Roshi straightened, glancing at Tsunade’s desk. A small pile of discarded paper balls had already formed.

He sighed. ”Kumogakure specializes in taijutsu, kenjutsu, and Lightning Release.”

”They hold a natural advantage at the Genin stage. Once they reach Chunin, the gap narrows as tactical complexity increases.”

”The two villages follow different training philosophies. In a single, arena-focused environment like this, losing at the Genin level is—statistically speaking—within expectations.”

”That’s exactly why,” Tsunade said sharply, ”I need you to push forward the Genin training plan immediately.”

”Next year’s competition will continue. Shikaku’s letter states that Kumogakure wants to extend the schedule and expand its influence.”

”This year was already embarrassing enough,” she added grimly. ”If the schedule gets longer next year and our Genin perform like this again…”

She slammed her palm down.

”That would be a humiliation Konoha cannot afford.”

Since the objective was immediate combat readiness for next year, the focus naturally had to fall on the Ninja graduating this year.

Ebisu was promptly summoned to the Hokage’s office.

”Hokage-sama,” he first bowed respectfully to Tsunade at the main desk, then turned toward the figure at the adjacent one. ”Jonin Roshi.”

”Ebisu-sensei, I’ll get straight to the point,” Roshi said, setting his pen aside. ”The Village intends to establish a Genin training program. The primary targets are students about to graduate, as well as Genin from the past two years. You have extensive experience in this area, so I’d like to hear your opinion.”

He then briefly outlined the initial plan: Genin would submit training applications on their own initiative, and the village would assign appropriate instructors based on the content of those applications.

Ebisu listened without interrupting. When Roshi finished, he adjusted his glasses thoughtfully.

”Jonin Roshi’s proposal is indeed meaningful,” Ebisu said. ”However, regarding implementation, I believe there are several issues worth reconsidering.”

He chose his words carefully.

”Most Genin have only a vague sense that they are ’not strong enough,’ but they lack the ability to accurately identify their own weaknesses, let alone judge which development path best suits them.”

”If we rely entirely on self-submitted applications, many requests will be unfocused or misguided. Some Genin may even choose not to apply at all—either out of fear of evaluation or simple confusion. In the end, the program’s effectiveness would be greatly reduced.”

”My suggestion,” Ebisu continued, ”is for the village to proactively establish Genin Ability Enhancement Classes.”

”We would openly recruit Genin who wish to improve, allowing them to volunteer. Then, elite Jonin or specialists appointed by the village would conduct standardized, systematic ability assessments.”

”Based on those results, participants would be assigned to specialized tracks—such as Taijutsu Enhancement, Ninjutsu Control and Practical Application, or Squad Tactical Coordination.”

”Instructors with matching expertise would then be centrally assigned to conduct high-intensity, periodic training.”

”After each training cycle, a comprehensive evaluation would be held. Depending on progress and potential, Genin would either advance to deeper specialization or return to regular missions to continue accumulating experience.”

Ebisu’s later promotion to Special Jonin had been due largely to his teaching ability, and it showed. With only a rough framework to work from, he had already produced a concrete, executable plan.

Roshi glanced at Tsunade. She gave a slight nod.

”Very professional advice, Ebisu-sensei,” Roshi said. ”For now, the training program itself will require time to prepare. The village hopes you can first focus on the current fifth- and sixth-year students.”

”We need a detailed individual assessment report as soon as possible—along with a short-term plan that can rapidly improve their foundational combat capabilities.”

”Understood,” Ebisu replied, bowing slightly. ”I will complete the report and submit it promptly.”

After he left, Tsunade narrowed her eyes, silently calculating for a long moment before letting out a long sigh.

”If we follow Ebisu’s approach,” she muttered, ”the cost will increase significantly.”

Roshi nodded. Compared to his original, minimalist plan—where the Village merely acted as a coordinator—this new structure added assessments, class divisions, centralized instruction, and follow-up guidance.

Venues, personnel, equipment… all of it meant rising expenses. And even with mandatory fees, the price couldn’t be set too high.

”This money still has to be spent,” Roshi said calmly.

”Setting aside short-term combat readiness, if the village continues relying on the old, hands-off model—leaving everything to individual captains’ experience and personal connections—our efficiency in cultivating specialized talent will remain low, and the success rate unreliable.”

He gave an example without hesitation.

”Take the medical system. We’ve built hospitals, but we still lack a standardized, large-scale training pipeline for Medical Ninja.”

”I know, I know…” Tsunade groaned, slumping forward until her forehead rested against the cool surface of the desk. Her voice came out muffled. ”The Uchiha issue is mostly settled, and now all of this is piling on… it never ends…”

She turned her head slightly, glaring at him through half-lidded eyes.

”You’re seriously annoying, Roshi.”

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