[Starting in Naruto with a Daily Login System] Chapter 43 Two Idiots, One Hyuga, and My Suffering

Traveling with an elite ANBU squad should have been smooth, efficient, and silent. We should have been moving in perfect sync, embodying the essence of deadly professionalism.

Instead, I was leading the equivalent of a rogue stand-up comedy troupe, and Tokuma Hyuga looked about five minutes away from a nervous breakdown.

"Captain, serious question," Shisui said as we sprinted across the treetops.

"No," I answered immediately.

"You don’t even know what I was gonna say!"

"And yet I already know it’s stupid."

Genma smirked. "Give him a chance, Captain. Maybe this time it’s something useful."

Shisui gasped dramatically. "Genma! You believe in me?"

"Absolutely not."

Tokuma exhaled through his nose. "Can we please maintain some level of professionalism?"

"No," Shisui and Genma said at the same time.

I sighed. "What’s the serious question, Crow?"

Shisui turned to me, completely straight-faced. "If you had to fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses, which would you pick?"

I almost tripped.

"What?"

"It’s a serious question, Captain," Shisui insisted. "Think about it. The duck is huge. But the little horses? Terrifying in numbers."

Genma, or Wolf, hummed thoughtfully. "He’s got a point. A hundred tiny horses could swarm you."

I stared at them. "You’re both idiots."

Tokuma, or Hawk, looked like he was questioning every life decision that led him here. "I should’ve joined the Medical Corps."

"And miss this? Come on, Hawk," Shisui said, throwing an arm around his shoulder mid-jump. "We’re bonding!"

"Don’t touch me," Tokuma deadpanned.

Genma smirked. "Didn’t know you were touch-averse, Hyuga."

"I’m Shisui-averse."

Shisui gasped, clutching his chest. "That hurts, Hawk. Right here." He pointed at his heart. "Right in the feelings."

"You don’t have feelings," Tokuma muttered.

"You’re right," Shisui said cheerfully. "Anyway, Captain, answer the question!"

I sighed. "The horse-sized duck. One big enemy is easier to handle than a hundred tiny ones."

Genma hummed. "Fair. But what if the duck had ninja jutsu?"

I turned to look at him. "Are you implying the hundred duck-sized horses don’t?"

Shisui grinned. "See? You’re thinking about it now."

Tokuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "I hate this team."

"Too late," I said, clapping him on the back. "You’re stuck with us."

If I had known leading an ANBU team meant babysitting two grown children and a Hyuga on the verge of a mental breakdown, I would have politely declined the role of captain. But here we were, sprinting through the trees, with Genma and Shisui showing a blatant disregard for the concept of stealth.

"So, Captain," Genma drawled, flipping a senbon between his fingers. "What’s the plan when we get there? Sneak in, take the guy out, and disappear like ghosts?"

"More like phantoms," Shisui corrected.

"Same thing."

"Phantoms are way cooler than ghosts. You wouldn’t understand."

"You’re a child."

I closed my eyes for half a second. "Focus."

Shisui turned to me. "We are focused. You just don’t appreciate tactical brainstorming."

"Tactical brainstorming is not debating the superiority of ‘phantoms’ over ‘ghosts’ while running at full speed toward an assassination target."

Shisui huffed. "Fine. What’s the actual plan?"

I glanced back at him. "We’re still a day out. We’ll set up an observation point first and scout for at least twelve hours before making a move. No unnecessary risks."

"Captain Kakashi," Genma said, voice completely serious for once. "I have a question."

Finally. A real question. "Go ahead."

"If we meet enemy shinobi, can I flirt with them to cause a distraction?"

I slowed down just enough to turn and stare at him. "What."

"You know, distract them. Play the long game."

Shisui snorted. "Oh my god, I dare you to try that on a Kiri-nin."

"I’m serious," Genma said. "Imagine this: some kunoichi is about to stab me, but then—bam—I hit her with the smoothest line she’s ever heard, and she hesitates."

"Long enough for her to stab you slower, maybe," I muttered.

Genma smirked. "But what if she hesitates long enough?"

Tokuma, who had been silent this whole time, suddenly groaned. "I hate you all."

I nodded. "You get used to it."

"No, you get used to it. I refuse."

Shisui grinned. "You say that now, but soon, you’ll be cracking jokes like the rest of us."

Tokuma gave him a deadpan look. "I would rather be excommunicated from the Hyuga Clan than become like you."

Genma nodded sagely. "That’s the spirit."

"That’s not a compliment!" Tokuma snapped.

I sighed. "Remind me why I’m leading this team again?"

"Because you’re the only one responsible enough to keep us alive," Shisui said.

I paused. "That’s... actually true. And deeply concerning."

"See? We have full faith in you, Captain."

"That makes one of us," I muttered.

We were still a few hours away from our observation point when of course something had to go wrong.

A team of rogue ninjas—six of them, by the looks of it—dropped down from the trees, cutting off our path. Their hitai-ate were scratched out, which meant they were either missing-nin or just really bad at keeping their forehead protectors intact.

The leader, a burly guy with a jagged scar down his cheek, smirked at us. "Well, well. Looks like we caught ourselves some Konoha rats."

I sighed, stepping back. "Hawk, Crow, Wolf. You guys handle this."

Shisui blinked. "Wait. You’re not gonna fight?"

"You need the practice," I said, leaning against a tree. "Think of it as a live training exercise."

Genma scoffed. "Unbelievable. Our fearless captain, everyone."

Tokuma sighed heavily, already activating his Byakugan. "Fine. Let’s get this over with."

The leader sneered. "You brats think you can take us?"

Shisui grinned. "Oh, I know we can."

The missing-nin didn’t get the chance to respond before Tokuma blurred forward, his palm slamming into the chest of the nearest enemy with pinpoint precision. The guy’s ribs cracked, and he went flying into a tree, coughing up blood.

Genma flicked his senbon into his mouth, dodging a kunai slash with a lazy tilt of his head. "Man, you guys are slow." Then, faster than the rogue ninja could react, he jabbed a kunai straight into the guy’s thigh, twisting it.

Shisui, being Shisui, vanished in a burst of speed, reappearing behind another enemy with a kunai at their throat. "Surrender, and I won’t cut you open."

The rogue ninja snarled and tried to twist free—so Shisui cut him open.

I made an impressed sound. "Nice work."

"Don’t just stand there and commentate!" Tokuma snapped, ducking under a sword swing. He retaliated with a brutal palm strike to the enemy’s sternum, sending them skidding back.

"Hey, you’re doing fine," I said. "I believe in you."

"That’s not helping!"

Genma was laughing now, dodging another opponent’s attacks with infuriating ease. "Relax, Hawk! This is fun."

Tokuma let out a strangled noise. "I hate you all."

Within minutes, the fight was over. The last rogue ninja tried to run, but Shisui flickered in front of him, smiled, and knocked him unconscious.

I clapped my hands. "Great job, team. That was very educational."

Genma rolled his eyes. "You’re the worst captain."

"Yet here you all are, still alive. You’re welcome."

Tokuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need a new career."

Shisui grinned. "You say that, but you love us."

Tokuma looked at him, dead inside. "I would rather be stranded in an enemy village with no chakra than spend another day with you people."

"Aw, that’s sweet," Genma said.

"I will kill you."

By the time we found a decent clearing, the sun was setting, and I was already regretting my life choices. Again.

"We’ll camp here for the night," I said, because that’s what captains say in these situations. I fully expected some kind of smart remark, but the team was too exhausted from their earlier brawl to argue. Tokuma had the dead eyes of a man who had just endured too much social interaction, Shisui looked way too pleased with himself, and Genma was lazily chewing on a senbon like we weren’t in the middle of hostile territory.

We set up quickly. Tokuma took first watch, mostly because he volunteered—probably to get a break from us. Genma and Shisui sat near the fire, eating their rations, while I leaned against a tree and contemplated my horrible gacha luck.

Ah yes, my beloved Daily Login System. The gift that kept on giving. And by "giving," I meant providing me with increasingly useless junk.

I opened the system menu and checked my latest rewards:

A single kunai. I have hundreds. Thanks.

A warm pair of socks. This was actually the best thing I’d gotten in weeks.

A stick of gum. For peak combat efficiency, obviously.

A half-eaten rice ball. Half-eaten. WHO ATE IT?!

A “Pocket Guide to Leadership”. Which I’m not reading, because I already know I’m a terrible leader.

I sighed. "This system hates me."

Shisui glanced up. "What was that, Captain?"

"Nothing," I said. "Just thinking about how unfair life is."

Genma smirked. "You mean how we did all the fighting while you stood back and coached from the sidelines?"

"Exactly," I said. "It was a beautiful strategy."

Tokuma muttered something about transferring to a different squad.

Time Skip: Several Days of Suffering Later

The next few days were a blur of travel, minor skirmishes, and me silently questioning why I was given a supernatural daily login system just to receive a single boiled egg as a reward.

Shisui, naturally, was still a menace. Genma was Genma. Tokuma was still barely tolerating our existence. And me? I was mentally preparing for the actual mission ahead.

Because of course, assassinating a daimyo wasn’t going to be easy.

—

After what felt like a lifetime of walking, fighting, and suffering through Shisui and Genma’s antics, we finally arrived at our destination—Ishigakure.

Not to be confused with Iwagakure, the Hidden Stone Village, which actually matters. Ishigakure was a tiny, independent shinobi state tucked away in the mountains, unaffiliated with any of the Five Great Nations. It was basically the ninja equivalent of a small-town gang trying to play with the big leagues.

Unfortunately for them, they had really overestimated themselves.

Their Daimyo, Tanaka Gorō, had been stirring up trouble—funding rogue shinobi groups, trying to expand his influence beyond his little mountain village, and generally being a nuisance to the Fire Daimyo. That last part was why we were here.

Minato-sensei had given us the green light. Time to cut the problem at its root.

As we approached the outer limits of Ishigakure, I called for a stop.

"We’ll rest before setting up a base of operations," I said, stretching out the stiffness from the long journey. "No need to rush. Rushing gets people killed."

Genma flopped down dramatically onto the ground. "Finally. I was starting to think this mission was just an elaborate endurance test."

"You’re ANBU," Tokuma said flatly. "This is normal."

Shisui grinned. "You mean normal for us. Which is just another way of saying ‘objectively terrible for our health.’"

Tokuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "I regret my life choices."

"Same," I muttered, staring at the sky.

Once everyone was rested (which mostly involved Shisui and Genma goofing off while Tokuma glared at them in silent judgment), we moved into the village under disguises. ANBU standard protocol meant masks off to blend in.

Ishigakure was smaller than I expected. Their "village" was really just a glorified fortress, built into the mountain like a stronghold. The roads were narrow, lined with merchants selling whatever scraps they could find, and the people looked rough.

We found an inn near the outskirts—nothing fancy, just a small, two-story building run by an elderly couple. The best part? No suspicious glances from the owners. They were too busy arguing over who forgot to sweep the entrance.

"Perfect," I said as we settled into our rented rooms. "No one’s paying attention to us."

Tokuma nodded. "Good. The last thing we need is unnecessary attention."

Genma smirked. "And yet, we brought Shisui."

Shisui placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. "Genma, I’ll have you know I am a master of stealth and subtlety."

"You literally waved at a patrol guard on the way here."

"He looked lonely!"

I sighed. "Both of you, shut up. We need to plan our recon."

Once night fell, we got to work.

We split into two teams:

Shisui and Genma would infiltrate the fortress, gathering intel on Tanaka Gorō’s movements.

Tokuma and I would monitor the village’s activity, looking for anything unusual.

Shisui grinned. "I call dibs on sneaking into the fortress."

Genma raised an eyebrow. "Dibs? We’re on a mission, not picking out sweets at a festival."

"Yeah, yeah, mission seriousness, whatever. The point is, I’ll get to sneak past high-ranking guards while you—" he pointed at Tokuma, "—stare at civilians all night."

Tokuma didn’t even look up. "I genuinely despise you."

"Noted!" Shisui grinned.

I rubbed my temples. "Just do your job."

With that, we moved out.

Tokuma and I found a good vantage point overlooking the village. If there was any large-scale movement from Tanaka Gorō’s forces, we’d see it. The problem? There wasn’t.

For a guy who knew someone was out to kill him, he wasn’t acting nearly paranoid enough.

"Something’s off," I muttered.

Tokuma activated his Byakugan, scanning the surrounding areas. After a moment, his brows furrowed. "There are patrols, but nothing excessive. No signs of outside reinforcements."

I frowned. "So either he’s too confident in his defenses… or he’s expecting something else."

Meanwhile, Shisui and Genma returned from their part of the mission looking entirely too satisfied with themselves.

"Good news," Shisui announced. "Tanaka Gorō’s security is tight, but not impenetrable. Standard patrol routes, nothing special."

Genma smirked. "Bad news: the fortress is too well-lit at night. Sneaking in is going to be a pain."

"Wonderful," I deadpanned. "Anything else?"

Shisui nodded. "Yeah. I swiped a map from one of the security offices."

Tokuma stared. "You what?"

"It was just sitting there."

Genma sighed. "He’s lying. He knocked out a guard and stole it from his pocket."

"Details," Shisui said, waving him off. "The point is, we have the full layout now."

I exhaled. "Fine. Let’s plan our approach."

This was going to be fun.