Chapter 18: The Road Ahead
As they stepped out of the izakaya, the cool night air greeted them—a welcome contrast to the warm, smoky atmosphere inside. The village streets were quieter now, with the distant sounds of the market closing down and late-night patrols beginning.
Kenshiro walked ahead, hands tucked into his pockets, before turning slightly to glance at his students. His usual easygoing expression shifted into something more serious.
"You all did well on this mission," he began, his voice even. "And I mean it. But don't let that get to your heads."
Ryota, still grinning from their earlier celebration, blinked at the sudden shift in tone. Mikoto straightened her back slightly, already sensing where this was going. Kiyoshi, lost in thoughts of ramen, snapped back to attention.
Kenshiro continued, "You got lucky. Even with your quick thinking, things could have easily gone wrong. And in a real battle, luck won't always be on your side." He stopped walking, turning to face them fully. "That's why, from now on, we're going to sharpen your skills."
Ryota groaned. "More training?"
Kenshiro smirked. "Oh, you'll be begging for the old training after this."
Mikoto sighed, rubbing her temple. "So, what's the plan, sensei?"
"You'll have a few days to rest, but after that, expect a packed schedule. Training will be the priority, and on top of that, we'll be taking missions regularly."
"Low-rank ones?" Kiyoshi asked.
Kenshiro nodded. "Mostly D-rank, sometimes C-rank. Normal genin work. You need to build a foundation before getting ahead of yourselves." He folded his arms. "That said, if we do get orders for a higher-ranked mission, you'll be informed accordingly. And when that happens, I expect you to be ready."
His expression darkened slightly. "Don't forget how dangerous the last mission was. You survived this time, but survival isn't guaranteed. A single mistake can be the difference between coming home… or not."
A heavy silence settled over them. The excitement of their earlier celebration faded slightly, replaced by a sobering realization.
Kiyoshi clenched his fists. He already knew how deadly this world was—he had studied it, lived it—but hearing it so plainly from Kenshiro made it all the more real. Mikoto exhaled slowly, absorbing the weight of their sensei's words. Ryota, uncharacteristically quiet, nodded in understanding.
Kenshiro's gaze softened just a fraction. "Look, I'm not trying to scare you. I'm preparing you. If you want to make something of yourselves, you need to be strong. Stronger than you are now."
Then, with a shrug, he smirked. "But for now, enjoy your break. Eat, sleep, relax. Because once we start training, you won't have time for that."
Ryota groaned again, but this time, there was a hint of determination in his expression.
Mikoto rolled her eyes. "Fine. But don't hold back on the training. If we're doing this, we're doing it properly."
Kenshiro chuckled. "That's the spirit."
Kiyoshi stayed silent, thoughts swirling in his mind. Training, missions, survival…
And ramen. Definitely ramen first.
With that, they parted ways, the promise of harsher days ahead lingering in the night air.
—
As Kenshiro walked away from his students, a sigh escaped his lips. He had told them to rest, to enjoy their break before the real training began. But for him, there would be no such luxury.
He ran a hand through his hair, eyes drifting upward to the night sky. I've been slacking off.
It wasn't something he liked admitting, but it was the truth. Ever since becoming a jōnin, he had let himself relax more than he should have. Not in battle—no, he was still competent, still a solid jōnin—but he wasn't pushing himself anymore. His growth had plateaued, and until now, he hadn't thought much of it.
Back then, if things got too bad, I could always escape. That was the worst-case scenario, and it was enough.
But now? That wasn't enough. Not anymore.
He glanced back toward the direction his students had gone, their figures already disappearing into the night. They were strong, each in their own way, but they were still just genin. They didn't have the experience, the instincts, or the sheer skill to get themselves out of a true crisis.
That's my job.
Every jōnin sensei was supposed to be the safety net—the last line of defense. If things went south, it was on him to make sure they all made it back home. All of them.
His grip on his arm tightened. If I stay as I am now… will I be enough?
The answer was clear.
No.
He needed to be stronger. He needed to refine his skills, to push past his current level. There was a reason some jōnin were called elite jōnin—the highest tier before ANBU or Kage-level strength. If he wanted to protect his team properly, he needed to reach that level.
He had no excuses.
No more slacking.
No more half-hearted training.
If they were going to push themselves, then so would he. He had to be faster, sharper, stronger. Not just for himself, but for them.
Kenshiro exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. Tomorrow, I start again.
Because in this world, weakness wasn't an option.