Chapter 62: Chapter 62: One to Watch
It took four days to verify the intelligence.
Dan personally signed the mission report, and the rating was upgraded from C+ to B-rank.
When the bearded Jonin handed over the payment, the coin pouch was placed squarely in the center of the table. Last time, it had been tossed toward the corner.
"Two hundred thousand. Mission pay plus a commendation bonus, all together."
Kitahara Kaede picked up the pouch.
"Thank you, sir."
Two hundred thousand. He was still four million eight hundred thousand short of five million.
It was a long road ahead.
***
The second mission came quickly.
It was a reconnaissance operation to intercept a small Sunagakure supply line—marking the route of travel and the guard configuration to be handed over to a follow-up strike team.
It was completed in three days, again with zero contact and zero combat.
The intelligence was once again verified as high quality. The reward was two hundred and fifty thousand ryo.
The third mission involved continuous monitoring of the periphery of a Sunagakure infiltration line for five days.
Kitahara Kaede returned with a complete map marking three concealed enemy assembly points. The frontline strike team used this intelligence to execute a brilliant ambush, annihilating a Sunagakure infiltration squad at the cost of four minor injuries.
In the post-battle briefing, the strike team leader specifically mentioned: "The map’s precision was extremely high, significantly reducing the risk of enemy engagement."
The reward was three hundred thousand ryo, plus a special commendation.
***
The fourth mission was not reconnaissance.
It was a B-rank combat deployment—a four-man squad tasked with clearing out a Sunagakure guerrilla unit that had penetrated the rear.
When the team roster was released, the expressions of the other three members were strained. No one said anything to his face, but the sentiment of *’God help us, please let nothing go wrong this time’* was written all over their faces.
Kitahara Kaede didn’t bother explaining himself. He figured it was better to spend that time double-checking his ninja tool pouch.
The engagement took place on the evening of the second day.
Before the fighting started, Kitahara Kaede used the footprints on the ground to lock onto the hiding positions of the Sand ninjas, accurately gauging their numbers and placement.
The captain, a taciturn Chunin, hesitated for two seconds after looking at the deployment map Kaede had drawn, then nodded.
"We’ll do it your way."
The actual fight was straightforward. Four against six, with the advantage of the first strike and the terrain, it wasn’t particularly difficult.
The only complication occurred when a Sand ninja looped around to the flank, lunging with a kunai toward the back of the neck of the youngest ninja in the squad.
Kitahara Kaede kicked the boy out of the way, snatched the kunai from the enemy’s hand in one fluid motion, and pinned it back into the attacker’s shoulder.
The entire process took about two seconds.
By the end of the battle, there were six enemies: four dead and two wounded. On the Hidden Leaf side, there were zero casualties.
The boy Kitahara Kaede had kicked landed hard on his backside; aside from a sore tailbone that lasted two days, he was unharmed.
On the way back to camp, the boy walked behind Kitahara Kaede. His mouth opened several times before he finally managed to squeeze out a word.
"...Thanks."
"Mm."
A short distance away, the captain glanced back at Kitahara Kaede. He said nothing.
However, when reporting the completion of the mission back at camp, he added an extra line to the end of the briefing:
"Kitahara Kaede remains calm in combat, possesses accurate judgment, and shows a strong protective instinct toward his teammates. I recommend prioritizing him for a rank upgrade."
***
From then on, combat deployment missions began to come his way.
They weren’t frequent—most were still reconnaissance—but every time Kitahara Kaede’s squad went out, every single member returned to camp.
Once, twice, three times.
The atmosphere in the camp began to shift. The teammates who had worked with him started whispering among themselves.
"That kid isn’t just great with intel; he’s a powerhouse in a fight. Being on a team with him is a guarantee."
As for the nickname "Jinx"—it didn’t vanish overnight. It was just that fewer people used it, and their voices grew quieter.
Eventually, only the newly arrived recruits would occasionally ask:
"Who’s that guy who keeps to himself?"
A veteran would glance in Kitahara Kaede’s direction and reply, "Forget what they call him. You couldn’t do his job if you tried."
***
Four months.
Seven high-quality missions, all B-rank or C+.
Including the initial two hundred thousand from the first reconnaissance, his total balance was nearly one million six hundred thousand ryo.
He was still three million four hundred thousand short of five million.
Progress was faster than expected, but not fast enough.
Kitahara Kaede ran the numbers. With his current strength, he could easily handle A-rank missions.
The pay for those would be a massive leap—starting at a minimum of one hundred and fifty thousand, with some exceeding a million.
But there was a catch.
He had been a Genin taking C-rank missions; if he suddenly started completing a string of A-ranks, an ANBU investigation letter would be tucked under his pillow by morning.
One had to eat in small bites.
The status of a Chunin was a stepping stone. Once he obtained that, moving toward A-rank missions would make sense chronologically.
***
Kitahara Kaede didn’t have much formal contact with Dan.
With over a thousand people in the camp, several layers of the reporting chain separated a Genin from the supreme commander. Under normal circumstances, they would never cross paths.
Except during mission reports.
Across seven missions, Dan had only deviated from the routine reports twice.
The first time was after the third mission’s scrolls were handed in.
Dan closed the map and suddenly asked, "Most of the ninjas of your intake are rotating between patrol posts and guard sentries. Your frequency of volunteering for high-risk missions is the highest in the entire camp."
Kitahara Kaede didn’t hesitate. "The pay is higher."
Dan looked at him for two seconds. "Only for the money?"
"A Genin’s base salary can’t support a person, and prices on the front lines are rising."
Dan didn’t press further. But Kitahara Kaede noticed that Dan’s gaze lingered on his face for a moment, as if confirming something.
The second time was after the seventh mission.
After signing the paperwork, Dan didn’t let him leave.
"Sit."
Kitahara Kaede sat.
Dan picked up a document from the desk and placed it in the center.
"After this round of frontline missions concludes, I will submit a performance evaluation report to the Hokage. Your name is in it."
He paused.
"I recommend that you take the Chunin promotion exam upon your return to the village. Based on your current mission record and the quality of your intelligence, you are more than qualified."
Kitahara Kaede didn’t answer immediately. Dan’s tone was as flat as it was when he assigned missions.
"I can sign as the recommending Jonin."
Chunin status—higher mission authorization, and a higher pay ceiling.
Kitahara Kaede stood up and gave a respectful bow.
"Thank you, Lord Dan."
"You may go."
As he stepped out of the tent, Kitahara Kaede looked down at the document in his hand. In the recommendation signature block, the name "Dan Kato" was written in neat, precise characters.
***
Hidden Leaf Village, Hokage’s Office.
A stack of documents half as tall as a man sat on Hiruzen Sarutobi’s desk. With his pipe clenched in his teeth, he sighed as he approved one file after another.
Wartime paperwork was triple that of peacetime. Personnel loss reports, resource allocations, pension approvals, frontline battle reports—every single page represented lives and money.
He flipped to the stack for the Western Front.
On top was the monthly summary issued by Dan Kato. Personnel losses, material consumption, enemy movements—flipping through page by page, everything was within normal parameters.
The Western Front was the most stable of the various lines of engagement. With Dan overseeing things there, Hiruzen had always been at ease.
He flipped to the mission completion appendix.
His gaze stopped on a name.
Kitahara Kaede, Genin.
Seven missions, one hundred percent success rate.
Dan’s handwritten comment was at the bottom:
"This ninja possesses intelligence analysis capabilities and battlefield judgment far exceeding his current rank. His taijutsu is solid, and his performance in actual combat is stable. I recommend he be prioritized for the Chunin promotion exam upon his return to the village."
Hiruzen took the pipe out of his mouth.
He knew Dan well.
Dan might be gentle, but he never wasted words in his evaluations—and he certainly wouldn’t describe an ordinary Genin as "far exceeding their current rank."
He reached into the nearby archives and pulled out Kitahara Kaede’s personnel file.
It was a single, thin sheet of paper, and the language used felt as though it belonged to a completely different world than Dan’s evaluation.
"Below-average chakra reserves, lacks aptitude for ninjutsu, no standout traits. Recommended for transfer to logistics."
Hiruzen placed the two documents side by side.
The same person.
One suggested he move crates; the other recommended he be fast-tracked for promotion to Chunin.
He took a drag from his pipe and exhaled slowly. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the identification photo for several seconds.
Then, something clicked.
A while back, Tsunade had suddenly come to the Hokage’s office to ask a bizarre question: "Is there anyone from the Hagoromo Clan in the village?"
The ANBU had searched every nook and cranny but found no one fitting her description. However, Tsunade had left with a different file.
Kitahara Kaede’s file.
Hiruzen hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Tsunade had been performing surgery relentlessly lately; it was only natural she’d have a momentary lapse in judgment due to sleep deprivation.
But now, the same name had surfaced again in Dan Kato’s reports from the front.
Two completely unrelated events had converged on a single individual.
Bringing the pipe back to his lips, Hiruzen clipped Dan’s report and Kaede’s file together and tossed them into the "Under Observation" pile.
He then scribbled a note on a piece of memo paper at the edge of his desk:
"Kitahara Kaede—keep an eye on him."
Comments