[Starting in Naruto with a Daily Login System] Chapter 39 ANBU Adventure II

Night had settled over the Land of Fire, shrouding the dense forest in eerie stillness. My team and I crouched on a tree branch overlooking the enemy hideout—a rundown fortress nestled between rocky cliffs, its perimeter patrolled by masked rogue ninja.

“Alright,” I murmured. “Standard infiltration. Silent takedowns. Minimal explosions.”

Crow sighed. “You say that like you expect me to behave.”

“I don’t expect you to behave,” I corrected. “I expect you to at least pretend you know what ‘stealth’ means.”

Taka, perched on my shoulder, whispered, “I can be stealthy.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I CAN.”

Wolf adjusted his gloves. “What’s the plan, Captain?”

I scanned the area, noting guard placements, potential entry points, and the overall lack of intelligent security measures. “Crow and Hawk, take the west entrance. Wolf, you’re with me. Standard sweep, silent eliminations. If things go sideways—”

“Blame Crow,” Hawk finished.

“I heard that,” Crow muttered.

Taka fluffed up. “DO I HAVE A ROLE?”

“Yes,” I said. “You’re staying here.”

Taka gasped, offended. “I CAN HELP.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I AM A WARRIOR OF JUSTICE.”

“You’re a very small warrior of justice.”

“SIZE DOES NOT MATTER IN THE FACE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Taka. Stay.”

He huffed, ruffling his feathers dramatically. “Fine. But if you get into trouble, I shall consider rescuing you.”

“Appreciated.”

With that settled, we moved.

Slipping into the fortress was insultingly easy. The guards were poorly trained, their patrol routes predictable. Crow and Hawk cleared their side with minimal fuss, while Wolf and I dealt with ours.

I downed one enemy with a quick strike to the neck, catching his falling body before he could alert anyone. Beside me, Wolf dispatched another with equal efficiency.

“All clear,” Wolf murmured.

“Moving to the main hall,” I responded.

As we progressed, I spotted a room with scrolls and documents stacked haphazardly. Jackpot.

“Crow,” I signaled. “Find anything useful?”

Crow examined a scroll. “Hmm. ‘Top Secret Plans to Betray Everyone’—oh wait, no. It’s just a grocery list.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered.

Hawk rifled through another pile. “This one mentions payment transfers… connections to Danzo.”

Of course. Because why wouldn’t Danzo have his fingerprints on this? That guy had more backup plans than common sense.

“We’ll grab what we can,” I said. “Then—”

The door slammed open.

A massive rogue ninja strode in, flanked by two more. Unlike the earlier goons, these ones actually looked competent.

“Damn,” Crow muttered. “And here I was hoping they’d all be useless.”

The leader sneered. “You think we don’t know who you are, Anbu? You’re walking into your own graves.”

I sighed. “They always say that.”

Crow tilted his head. “Do we correct them or let them figure it out?”

“Oh, let’s be polite,” I said, cracking my knuckles. “We’ll show them.”

The fight was fast, brutal, and honestly? A little fun.

Crow engaged one of the enemies, his tanto flashing in quick, unpredictable movements. His opponent barely kept up, his defenses breaking under relentless pressure.

Wolf grappled another, using precise, bone-crushing strikes that left the guy gasping.

Hawk moved like a ghost, striking at weak points with surgical accuracy.

And me?

I was toying with their leader.

“Not bad,” I mused, dodging his attacks. “I mean, not good, but—”

He roared, slashing at me with a massive cleaver. I ducked, grabbing his wrist and twisting. He let out a strangled yell as I slammed him into the ground.

“Y-you…!”

“Me.” I knocked him out.

Crow finished his fight at the same time, wiping his blade on a fallen cloak. “Mission complete?”

“Mission complete,” I confirmed.

Just as I was about to signal our exit, I heard rapid flapping.

Then—

“KAKASHI, I AM HERE TO SAVE YOU!”

Taka dive-bombed into the room.

Everyone froze.

“…What,” Crow said flatly.

Taka landed on my head, looking very pleased. “I FELT YOUR DISTRESS.”

“I was fine,” I deadpanned.

“You’re welcome,” he said smugly.

Wolf sighed. “Can we go home now?”

“Yes,” I said. “Before Taka ‘rescues’ me again.”

Crow patted Taka’s head. “You’re a hero.”

“I KNOW.”

As we made our way back to Konoha, I was already dreading the debrief.

Because I knew that by tomorrow, Taka would be telling everyone how he single-handedly saved my life.

I needed a vacation.

—

The next morning, I made my way to the Hokage’s office, already mentally preparing myself for whatever nonsense Taka had spread around the village.

Sure enough, as I passed by the mission desk, I heard hushed whispers from a pair of Chunin.

“Did you hear? Kakashi almost died on his last mission, but he was saved by a valiant, fearless warrior of the skies!”

“No way! Who was it?”

“A noble eagle! They say he fought off an entire army to protect his beloved summoner!”

I paused mid-step. Took a slow, deep breath. Then turned my head slightly to see the source of this ridiculous tale.

Atop the mission desk sat Taka, puffed up like he was the Daimyo himself. He met my gaze and waved a wing. “HELLO, KAKASHI! I WAS JUST—”

I kept walking.

I was not dealing with this right now.

Reaching Minato’s office, I knocked once before stepping inside. My Hokage—blonde, glowing, and as annoyingly optimistic as ever—looked up from his paperwork with a smile. “Kakashi, good timing. How was the mission?”

“Success. The rogue group has been eliminated, and we gathered evidence of their transactions.” I handed him the scrolls we recovered. “Unfortunately, it seems Danzo’s name came up in a few documents.”

Minato’s expression didn’t change, but I could see the gears turning in his head. “I see. I’ll have this investigated quietly.”

“Understood.” I hesitated. “Also, I apologize in advance for whatever story Taka is telling the village.”

Minato blinked. “...Do I want to know?”

“No,” I said. “You really don’t.”

He wisely chose to drop it.

Minato flipped through the documents, then nodded. “Good work, Kakashi. I have another assignment coming up soon, but for now, take a short break.”

I gave a lazy salute. “Roger that, Lord Fourth.”

As I turned to leave, Minato spoke again.

“Oh, and Kakashi?”

I glanced back.

Minato smiled knowingly. “Your little summon was bragging about how much you ‘needed’ him. It’s nice to know you’re making friends.”

I sighed. “I’m going to deny that with my dying breath.”

Minato just laughed.

—

Fūinjutsu training.

A discipline of patience, precision, and deep understanding of chakra theory. A field of study that could shape destinies, bind tailed beasts, and alter the very fabric of reality.

I sucked at it.

I sat in the middle of a training ground, surrounded by failed sealing formulas that ranged from mildly incorrect to potentially explosive. Ink stains covered my hands, my clothes, and somehow—somehow—there was a streak of black across my mask. I didn’t even touch my face.

"Alright," I muttered, rolling out a fresh scroll. "Let’s try this again."

The idea was simple: a basic storage seal. Something even Genin could do. In theory, I should be able to master it in minutes. I carefully drew the necessary symbols, focusing on my chakra control. Everything seemed fine. The formula was balanced. The ink was dry. The world was at peace.

I placed a kunai in the center, activated the seal—

BOOM.

A harmless puff of smoke exploded in my face, and the kunai did not get stored. Instead, it just kind of… launched itself across the field like a possessed projectile.

Taka, who had been napping in the tree above me, flailed midair and tumbled off his branch, landing directly on my head.

"ACK—KAKASHI, WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Science," I muttered, peeling him off.

He ruffled his feathers indignantly. "THAT DID NOT LOOK LIKE SCIENCE."

"Trial and error," I corrected.

"It looked like mostly error."

I sighed and looked over my notes. "I don’t get it. I followed the formula exactly."

Taka peered at my scroll, then tilted his head. "Did you try believing in the seal?"

I stared at him. "Yes, Taka. I tried believing in the seal."

He nodded sagely. "Then I have no further advice."

I exhaled slowly, placing my hands in my lap. Okay. Maybe I was approaching this the wrong way. Fūinjutsu wasn’t like my usual combat skills. It required more than just raw talent and experience—it needed understanding. Insight.

I glanced at my storage belt, remembering the countless times I’d accessed its near-infinite space with ease. Then at my Seamless Sublimity, the constant optimization of all my techniques.

Maybe I should stop trying to force it and instead… feel it out.

With that in mind, I rolled out another scroll. Taka perched beside me, watching with silent curiosity (for once).

"Alright," I said, dipping my brush into ink. "One more try."

Three hours later, I had achieved exactly two things:

A deep and abiding frustration with fūinjutsu.

A strong suspicion that the universe was mocking me.

I stared at the latest failed seal in front of me. Unlike the previous ones, this one hadn’t exploded, turned into modern art, or flung my kunai into the next training field. Instead, it just… didn’t work. The ink sat there, completely inert, as if judging me for my failures.

Taka, who had been watching from his perch, fluffed up. “HAVE YOU TRIED ASKING THE SEAL NICELY?”

I gave him a slow look. “…Taka.”

“Yes?”

“Go practice flying or something.”

“I WOULD, BUT I’M SAVING MY ENERGY.”

“For what?”

“In case you need a miraculous rescue again.”

I groaned and dropped onto my back, staring up at the sky. Minato made this look so easy. Jiraiya, too. Hell, even Kushina, from what I’d heard. Meanwhile, here I was, struggling with basic storage seals like some underperforming academy student.

It wasn’t a lack of chakra control—mine was excellent. It wasn’t a lack of intelligence—I had literally mastered the Rasengan. The problem was…

I was treating this like ninjutsu.

Seals weren’t about power or speed—they were about understanding. The ink, the formulas, the way chakra flowed through the strokes—it all had to be precise. It wasn’t about forcing chakra into the design. It was about guiding it.

I sat back up, brushing off the dust. “Alright, let’s try this again.”

Taka squinted. “Haven’t we been trying again?”

“Yes, but this time, I’m actually going to use my brain.”

Taka gasped dramatically. “A BOLD STRATEGY.”

Ignoring him, I reached for a new scroll. This time, I took it slow. I adjusted my grip on the brush, let my chakra settle, and carefully drew each symbol with the intent of storing an object. Not as a test. Not as some forced command. But as an invitation for the seal to function as intended.

When I placed the kunai in the center and activated the formula, it—

vanished.

Taka squawked. “YOU DID IT.”

I blinked. I had, in fact, done it. The kunai was stored. It hadn’t exploded, shot across the field, or summoned some eldritch horror.

A grin crept onto my face.

Then I tried to release the kunai.

…Nothing happened.

“…Uh.”

Taka peered at the scroll. “Is it supposed to stay in there forever?”

“No.”

“…Are you sure?”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I’ll fix it.”

Because clearly, I was this close to mastering seals.

Right?