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polaristranslations · 4 years ago

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Chapter 3 - The First Generation Maniwa Chouchou

This is a story from when this country was a warring country, when times were troubled times.

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No one, including Maniwa Chouchou himself, thought that the ninja would ever be elected as one of the Twelve Chiefs of the Maniwa Ninja Corps. It wasn't that he was incapable, nor was it that he didn't have a following—but there was one quality that Maniwa Chouchou decisively lacked as a shinobi.

And that quality was his physique.

He was—a huge, hulking man that everyone looked up to.

He was well over seven shaku tall, reaching almost eight shaku, with legs that were conspicuously long and arms that were much longer than the accepted norms.

Even from a distance of twenty jou away, Chouchou could easily be recognized, and even in a crowd of two thousand people, Chouchou could easily be recognized.

In a manner almost too weird to be true—

His body was large.

If he had been a samurai, he might have attained greatness.

In fact, there was not a single member of the Maniwa Ninja Corps that could match Chouchou in a simple comparison of strength—but ninja were not beings that simply compared their strength.

Rather, a ninja was someone who hid. Someone who lurked in the shadows.

Someone who concealed themselves.

On the battlefield, his huge body—it could be a weakness and could not become a weapon.

"Well, some things you just can't do anything about—I just have to resign myself to this fate. And it's not like I can hate this body that my parents gave me. Being sturdy is my only saving grace, so I'll carry out my tasks as an underling as best as I can,"

he would say.

As such, he was not so desperate about his circumstances—about his disadvantage.

Maniwa Chouchou was a pleasant person.

For that reason, there were quite a lot of people that lamented the fact that he lacked the qualifications to become one of the Twelve Chiefs from the start—and while the one who called herself the observer of the Maniwa Village, Maniwa Kyouken, wouldn't say she lamented it, she was also among those that felt it was unfortunate.

So when she was assigned an unusually active mission by the village's current head, Maniwa Houou, she decided to take Maniwa Chouchou along with her, even though she could have accomplished it on her own—and doing so may have been a manifestation of those feelings of her.

As a result.

That action of Kyouken's, which was almost a flight of fancy, would drastically change the fate of Maniwa Chouchou, but—

◇　　　◇

At a late hour.

Two shadows were running through the craggy mountains—no, they were moving at such speed that their shadows couldn't even be seen.

In the first place, they weren't even running on the ground.

What they were running on—were the overgrown trees.

Without breaking a single branch or scattering a single leaf—as if they were one with nature, cutting through only the wind—the two of them ran.

Maniwa Kyouken and Maniwa Chouchou.

Maniwa Kyouken—a shinobi looked like a young girl with tattoos all over her body, but in reality, she was the observer of the Maniwa village, and, in a sense, she was a veteran authority with perhaps even more influence than the head, Maniwa Houou, himself.

Maniwa Chouchou—who'd been placed in unfortunate circumstances due to his overly long arms, overly long legs, overly long torso, and overly long body—that body that was much too big for him.

The two of them—were running in lockstep.

Of course, with the small Kyouken and the gigantic Chouchou, their paces were entirely different—to be precise, there was more than three times the difference between the two, and yet Kyouken made it seem as if that difference didn't exist—you could say it was, perhaps, a difference in experience.

They...

Were returning—from the task they'd just completed.

"...Tch! Ah, damn it, those guys sure are persistent—!"

In a manner which was unusual for her, Kyouken grumbled as she looked behind her.

Of course, that didn't mean she physically turned.

She simply—searched for presences to her rear.

"How far do they plan on following us, jeez."

"S-sorry, Kyouken-san, because of me—"

Chouchou began to speak in an embarrassed tone—of course, neither of them slowed their pace as they talked. If anything—they were speeding up even more.

"—Things became like this."

"Ha—"

Kyouken laughed. She—forced a laugh.

As if ashamed of herself for grumbling.

"—It's not your fault at all. We just happened to be unlucky this time—"

Their task.

At least for the task itself—they'd succeeded.

However, that was just a matter of course—when it was Kyouken herself that went out to do it, there was no way the task couldn't be successfully completed.

She possessed the ability to accomplish any task on her own. The term "being a match for a thousand" may as well have been made for her. It was almost as if she needed no training or practice—as if the longer she lived, the stronger she became. That was the kind of ninja that Maniwa Kyouken was.

Even now, it was not out of necessity that Kyouken was accompanying Chouchou, but out of concern for him, who would be ruminating on his own disadvantages even more as a result of the current election of the Twelve Chiefs—and Chouchou himself knew that very well.

Though he thought it was an unnecessary concern.

However, more than the concern himself, it was the fact that it was unnecessary—that made him happy.

He had nothing but gratitude towards Kyouken, who was going out of her way to meddle like this.

—However...

—Someone like me... is really...

The problem had arisen just after they had completed their mission—in a completely unrelated location, by chance, by sheer coincidence—Kyouken and Chouchou had been discovered by shinobi from their rival force, the Aioi Ninja Corps.

—No.

—It wasn't by chance—or by coincidence.

And it wasn't that they had been unlucky, either—and Chouchou knew that very well.

There was but one reason they'd been discovered—and it was Chouchou's gigantic body.

Kyouken's (current) small stature, perfect for reconnaissance, would have never been discovered—and even if she had been, it would have been nearly impossible to tell from appearances alone that she could possibly be a shinobi from the Maniwa Ninja Corps.

But it was different for Chouchou.

Chouchou had an unorthodox appearance that made others suspect who he was, just from a single glance—and if he was looked at with such suspicion, it wouldn't be long before his identity was revealed.

They didn't have the option to drive back the enemy.

Choosing that option would end up interfering with the mission they'd just completed—they needed to get as far away from the scene as possible, and they couldn't leave even a trace of combat. Even though they had always been enemies, now was not the time to be fighting with the Aioi Ninja Corps.

But, of course, the other side didn't know that.

If anything, the more they tried to avoid conflict, the more the Aioi Ninja Corps would try to press further.

Hence—their current situation.

"Ten people, huh? It's even more than before. They're multiplying like rats. Ahaha, maybe they're actually popping out some kids?—"

This time, in a manner that was more usual for her, she mixed in a joke—but even so, Kyouken's expression showed signs of impatience.

"If only I could kill all ten of them in an instant—but I guess that's impossible. Chouchou-chan. Maybe you can do it with your Maniwa kenpou?"

"With my kenpou?"

Chouchou responded.

"My kenpou isn't really designed for one-on-many situations—and even then, in this situation, I don't know if I can kill even one person."

"Ah, is that so."

Kyouken didn't seem too discouraged.

It was as if she were saying, there was no point in despairing even further in this situation—but in other words, it meant that they'd been cornered by that much.

"It doesn't seem like there are any kunoichi among the enemies, either—oh dear, oh dear. Don't tell me your Kyouken-nee-san is gonna be retired from her post here? What a surprise."

Laughing self-deprecatingly, Maniwa Kyouken ended up breaking one of the branches she stepped on.

Chouchou saw it happen.

The situation was bad—bad enough that Kyouken would break a branch.

—No—that wasn't it.

—Actually, it shouldn't have been that bad.

While the situation was pretty bad—it wasn't at its worst.

"—Well, even so, I still gotta keep you alive somehow, Chouchou-chan. Don't worry, if it comes to it then I'll be the one to hold them back. If the only thing you find is my corpse, I'm sure you can cover it up somehow—"

"Kyouken-san, please don't say that!"

Chouchou.

Resolved himself—and spoke.

Quietly, but affectionately.

"A shinobi as good as you, killing yourself to let me live—to let an underling like me live? That's not what a ninja should be doing."

"...Chouchou-chan."

"Why aren't you ordering me to die right here? Without me here, whether there were ten pursuers or a hundred of them, you would be able to annihilate them in an instant."

It wasn't a heartless choice.

If anything—it was the natural decision to make, considering the Maniwa village.

Without even needing to order Chouchou to die, and without even considering Chouchou's own will, it would've been just as fine for Kyouken to cut off his head with her own hands.

He didn't want to be underestimated.

Even if he didn't have the qualifications to be one of the Twelve Chiefs—even if he was only half as good as any ninja—he still had the resolve to die.

"...Don't tell me to kill a comrade of mine,"

she said.

Maniwa Kyouken—spoke in a sulking tone, for some reason.

It was the first time she had shown—or, at least, the first time Chouchou had seen—behavior befitting her young girl's body.

But it was just for an instant.

Maniwa Kyouken soon returned to her usual sarcastic expression as an observer of the Maniwa village and said, "But it's true, you make a fair point."

She continued.

"In that case, let's do this. Chouchou-chan—change of plans. We'll split off into two. I'll get the pursuers to follow me, and you take the looooong way round back to the village."

"Eh—but that doesn't give you any less of a burden. It just makes me safer. Even though there's no meaning to me surviving in this situation."

"There is a meaning. It'll make me feel good when fighting."

Kyouken replied clearly.

"I'm the village's observer. When it comes to the Maniwa village, nothing about it will feel like a burden to me—and it won't mean that you'd be completely safe, either. If I end up letting even one of our pursuers escape—then you're gonna have to be the one to fight them. In an instant—faster than anyone else."

Faster than anyone else.

Those words—lingered in Chouchou's mind, strangely enough.

But, in any case, there was no time to argue back—in the first place, Chouchou had no intention of going against Kyouken's words.

If he had an order, he'd have to obey it.

In fact, Chouchou was so happy about the change in strategy that prioritized his own safety—that he was almost brought to tears.

—Even though...

—Even though I thought my tears had dried up long ago.

Though he thought there was no shinobi in the Maniwa Ninja Corps that would shed tears other than "Tearful Kuizame".

He was surprised to find such humanity in himself—and meanwhile, without even needing to agree.

Maniwa Chouchou moved his gigantic body—and broke away from Maniwa Kyouken's movements with the speed of a strong gale.

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Maniwa kenpou.

In the Maniwa village, a settlement of shinobi, there were few people who mastered this martial art, which could even be considered a first-class school of traditional art. And Maniwa Chouchou worked as the assistant instructor of it.

No matter how much he trained his ninjutsu, he knew he would never be able to surpass the others. In that case, he aimed to improve his skills by making the most of his physique.

It was a good fit.

Now, he possessed the ability to be considered one of the best kenpou practitioners in Japan—you could even say that he was good enough to contend with a ninjutsu user.

It certainly wasn't suited for one-on-many situations.

However—if it were one-on-one, he'd probably be able to show off some of his ability.

He had no intention of losing to anyone one-on-one.

However, it was rare for a shinobi to face a situation in which they'd be fighting an enemy one-on-one—no, rather. It could even be called a disgrace for a shinobi to face a situation in which they'd fight an enemy one-on-one.

Cutting their way through many at a time.

Or perhaps, overwhelming many at a time.

That was the proper practice of a shinobi.

Furthermore—in the first place, a shinobi must have already made some kind of mistake if they find themselves in a situation where they must face an enemy.

A perfect shinobi—would never have their hostility exposed, never have their attacks noticed, and never even make their victims realize that they'd been killed.

That's how it was.

That's how it should be.

For example, the most eccentric of the Maniwa Ninja Corps—Maniwa Shirasagi, the most eccentric of the eccentric, with no one, not even Houou and Kyouken, understanding him at all—always stood on the front lines, concealing nothing and exposing everything while in combat, and yet the true nature of his ninpou was still unknown.

Although, as it was, that sort of personality wasn't the sort that would necessarily get chosen as a chief—

—If I'm able to return to the village safely.

—I'll need to think a little bit about my future.

No, not just a little. A lot.

He was going to think a lot.

About half an hour since he'd parted ways with Kyouken—it was those thoughts that ran through Maniwa Chouchou's head as he continued to run without so much as a pause to catch his breath.

If things had gone according to plan, then Kyouken should have already annihilated the Aioi Ninja Corps pursuers by now—at the very least, there was no one coming after Chouchou.

Of course, he couldn't slow down—but for now, perhaps he could feel a bit of ease.

But even so.

Maniwa Chouchou was not the sort of happy-go-lucky man that he could shake off his feelings of regret or remorse.

Surviving after being covered for by a respected leader of the village—that was shameful for a ninja.

Even though he had pledged to be an underling for life.

In the end—he couldn't do even that.

If he had been the subordinate of Kuizame, then it would not have been strange if he'd been killed on the spot for "disturbing the peace and order".

He wasn't just not suited to be a chief, but not suited to be a ninja at all. Well, that was something he knew as soon as he'd grown up with such a gigantic body—something he knew very well—something he knew very very well—and that's why.

The only thing he regretted now was that he did not kill himself when his height grew past six shaku—

"...Anyway, let's just think about getting back to the village. Even if I don't do anything myself, I'm sure Houou-sama will deal with me in some way, so all I can do is resign myself to that."

Right now, I don't even have the right to die.

Then, in that case—I'll carry out my work as an underling for the rest of my life.

As he thought such thoughts, Chouchou kept on running—and then.

And then, all of a sudden, his feet stopped.

"............?"

There was no way he'd stopped because he was tired.

If anything, he was a man with several times the physical strength of an ordinary shinobi. As evidence, despite running for so long, he was not the slightest bit out of breath.

But.

He stopped, because—he felt a strange presence.

"...Oh yeah. This area was an animal trail, wasn't it. Kyouken-san did say that bears might appear around here—"

He carefully looked over his surroundings—and it seemed that Chouchou decided that the presence he felt seemed to have come from an animal.

Of course, he wasn't going to let his guard down just because it was an animal—this deep in the mountains, animals were perhaps even more trouble than the pursuers, and something that he should exercise great caution against. But even so, he was relieved.

And, in the moment he felt relieved.

"............!"

He heard—a sound.

No.

There were probably no more than ten people, Maniwa Chouchou included, that could even recognize that as a sound.

On your own.

It would only be after you made that same sound from your own body thousands, millions, billions, trillions of times—that you'd be able to recognize that as a sound.

He didn't spend any time thinking.

Chouchou's legs, naturally, turned in the direction of the sound—it couldn't be far.

His heart pounding once again—Maniwa Chouchou descended from the treetops and ran in a straight line, without even hiding his footsteps, forgetting all his circumstances, hesitation, and burdens for just this moment.

And.

Just as he expected—it was there.

Just as he had envisioned it, it was there.

There, in a naturally open clearing in the middle of the mountain—the form of a man that was wholeheartedly yet recklessly yet single-mindedly making spear hand strikes.

The sound of a hand cutting through the air.

Quietly—resounded.

It resounded again and again.

"...Hm?"

With that.

The man noticed Chouchou.

He hadn't been hiding his presence—but even so, he had a huge body anyway, so no matter what he was in the midst of, there was no way he wouldn't be noticed when he approached.

The man looked at Chouchou, wearing shinobi attire cut off at the shoulders, and chains wrapped all over his body.

And he said.

"Haha. It's the first time I'm seeing someone bigger than me—you're incredible."

And laughed amiably.

This was the first time that Chouchou, born in a village of shinobi, was ever praised for his physique—and this was the fateful encounter between the Maniwa Ninja Corps genin, Maniwa Chouchou, and the founder of Kyotouryuu, Yasuri Kazune.

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The founder of Kyotouryuu, Yasuri Kazune.

But of course, at this moment in time, he was nobody at all—he was but a mere practitioner who had not earned any military honors or achievements.

A practitioner—and a martial artist.

He was in the middle of a mountain retreat.

However, despite this war-torn world, for him to be training alone in such a remote place, silently, without participating in the war—that alone made him a nonconformist of considerable strength in the eyes of Maniwa Chouchou.

It was as if he had no interest in the world at all.

As Kazune continued his actions, as if he only found value in training his own body—Chouchou forgot everything else and gazed at him.

Normally, he should not have been doing that.

Chouchou's top priority right now should have been to return to the Maniwa village—he didn't have the time to be making a detour, much less come to a stop entirely.

Even though Maniwa Kyouken put her life on the line to allow Chouchou to escape—what was he doing, to not respond to the spirit of those actions?

He could hear himself asking those questions.

And yet.

If he just walked away now after coming across this man—Chouchou felt like it would be an even bigger betrayal.

A betrayal against Kyouken? Or a betrayal against the Maniwa Ninja Corps?

Or, even before that, a betrayal against his own body?

It wasn't clear to him.

But he hesitated for just a moment.

And then Chouchou stopped thinking entirely—and just followed his heart.

And charged—right at Yasuri Kazune.

◇　　　◇

There was no need for words.

There was no need to speak.

There was no need to listen.

The battle began naturally, as if they had made a promise to do so quite a long time ago.

Maniwa Chouchou headed towards Yasuri Kazune.

And Yasuri Kazune—received him with a delighted smile.

They didn't even know each other's names yet.

If anything, they didn't even know "what" the other party was. It was that sort of unidentified, indistinct situation.

Nevertheless.

They perceived each other as similar beings—as two of a kind.

And they faced off.

"Chei!"

Chouchou's first attack was faster.

Kazune had a considerably large body as well—but, as he'd said himself, it was a physique that was inferior when compared to Chouchou's. His stature was obviously smaller—but even when it came to the lengths of their arms, Chouchou's was overwhelmingly, ridiculously overwhelmingly, on the larger side.

And that long arm twisted like a whip.

Maniwa Chouchou's fist—headed for Kazune's face.

He covered a terrific amount of distance.

It was a fist of certain death that came flying in from so far—that would throw off one's sense of distance.

"Ha—"

Exhaling in such a way, Kazune repelled that fist upwards.

He didn't avoid it or receive it, but repel it.

That action—could be the proof of his absolute confidence in his own body. He was strongly convinced that, no matter the attack, it would not be able to come close to destroying his body, which had been forged like steel.

Chouchou—was pleased.

Strange as it may seem, he was incredibly pleased that his fist had been repelled.

Nothing made him happier to know that someone with such confidence was right in front of him.

To add to his joy, he tried to lunge from a distance with his other hand, this time as a spear hand—but Kazune would not allow it.

No, it was more than that.

He—went for the arm he'd just repelled.

He grabbed his wrist—and, in one go, used his weight to pull him down.

—A joint lock!

That came out of nowhere!

If his elbow was destroyed, then the battle would be decided then and there, and that wasn't what Chouchou wanted. As he was pulled down, Chouchou jumped—and, faster than Kazune could act, he rotated his body in midair, buying time for the joint lock to be applied.

If there had been anybody spectating, they surely would not have been able to hide their surprise at Chouchou's instantaneous movements—not one person could have expected that Chouchou would be able to move his gigantic body with such agility.

But to Chouchou, these were just normal movements.

A movement like this was just a way to buy time.

Not to mention—he'd only earned a second.

That was all it was.

However, even one second was enough.

For Maniwa Chouchou, one second was worth five thrusts.

And Kazune must have sensed something in his gut, because he immediately let go of Chouchou's arm—but instead of thoughtlessly trying to distance himself from Chouchou, he instead moved in even closer.

This wasn't close-quarters combat anymore.

It may as well be called contact combat.

In theory, his action was the correct one to make—because of Chouchou's long arms and long legs, and because his range was just too wide, it was more correct to draw in closer rather than move farther away. Although, the difficulty of the act of drawing in closer was unimaginably high—but Kazune performed it as if it were a perfectly natural procedure.

And then, at that distance.

At that short distance—marvelously, Kazune aimed for Chouchou's face and sent out a kick.

It was an attack that could only be allowed by a frightening degree of flexibility and explosive power.

There was no way to dodge it.

It was a kick from a completely unexpected direction.

In fact, never in Maniwa Chouchou's life—had an attack actually come for his head. So there being a slight delay in his reaction was something that was unavoidable.

However, even so, it wasn't like he couldn't do anything just because he reacted late.

If he couldn't dodge—then before they collided.

Before that attack collided.

Chouchou instantly folded his long arms and smashed his elbow into the kicking leg with an inside turn.

An elbow strike.

But it wasn't even something as skilled as that.

If anyone other than Chouchou had done it, it would have looked like a move made out of desperation.

With the elbow that he'd just barely freed from the joint lock, he'd intentionally use it in a move that could potentially break it? It was foolish even among foolish acts.

And he wasn't just repelling the attack, but rather boorishly aiming for their attacks to collide—recklessly using what was the hardest point on the human body was not in the slightest bit befitting of a shinobi, but a defensive move purely made from the perspective of a kenpou practitioner.

—No.

—I probably—can't call this a defensive move, either.

In the first place, there was no such thing as defense in Maniwa kenpou.

All they had was to be constantly attacking.

Attack before being attacked—that was the basic approach, and being ahead of the curve was the beauty of it.

As such, if you happened to be attacked first—then the basic approach was to attack whatever was attacking you.

That was the beauty of it.

—A shinobi, talking about beauty?

—If you ask me, it's kind of stupid.

The move resembling an elbow strike against the kick—was successful.

By deliberately shifting the moment of impact, he'd managed to minimize the damage to his elbow and arm, while the opponent—his shin had been injured.

In fact, Kazune had groaned,

"Oof... Kh!"

and pulled back his leg.

However, even noticing that fact was careless.

The leg that he'd pulled back didn't touch the ground—and instead came whirling back around towards Chouchou's body.

It was a feint to make one let their guard down—but it was probably true that his shin actually did hurt. But to use that injured body part immediately after for a follow-up attack—

A follow-up attack.

This time, the target was not the head but the torso.

He completely took it.

That force seemed like it was enough to pierce through his insides.

If anything, the impact was as if he'd been cut by a sword—and for a moment, Chouchou was enveloped in a vision of his torso having been cut to pieces.

"Gh—"

"Kyotouryuu—'Sarusuberi'!"

Kazune's voice.

Kyo-tou-ryuu?

Was that—the name of his school of martial arts?

Just as Chouchou came to that understanding—the move had already been sent out.

Of course, being distracted by the name of the school couldn't be an excuse—it was rather that the attack had once again come at Chouchou from an unexpected direction.

Chouchou's stance had drooped slightly after taking the attack to his torso, and the attack came for his jaw—as if this sequence of actions had been choreographed from the beginning, the heel of Kazune's palm flew up from below.

Despite being a movement that went against the pull of gravity, it still held overwhelming force.

The impact lifted his body off of the ground—but the force was as if he'd been slammed into the ground.

He barely had time to feel the pain.

In an instant, he fell unconscious.

But just before he fainted, Maniwa Chouchou had managed to perceive his own defeat—not a defeat as a shinobi, but a defeat as a kenpou practitioner.

Despite his conviction that he'd never lose in a one-on-one fight, the only pride he'd built up so far had been destroyed.

And yet.

Oddly enough—he didn't feel too bad about it.

◇　　　◇

"Hey, you're awake. Here, drink this."

As soon as Chouchou woke up, the first thing thrust at him was some sake.

And not in a cup or a bowl—but an entire sake barrel.

Almost bursting into laughter at the tremendousness of it, Chouchou picked himself up off of the ground—and, accepting the barrel, he lifted it up and drank from it with loud gulps.

Sake to resuscitate him—no, that wasn't it.

If anything, it was sake to fortify him.

"It's good. How did you get your hands on something like this, deep in the mountains?"

"A fortune teller that I happen to know likes to drop in from time to time—well, he's a weird guy. I'm usually bad with sake, but this one's different."

"Uh-huh. A fortune teller."

"Yeah. I think he also said he was a swordsmith, but to me it's all the same. By the way, I'm Yasuri Kazune. Who are you?"

"I'm Maniwa Chouchou."

"Maniwa. Ah, a ninja."

"Unfortunately, I haven't heard the name Yasuri before—who do you work for?"

"I'm just the prodigal son of a family close to the Tetsubi family of the six feudal lords. It doesn't matter if you haven't heard of it. I'm just a good-for-nothing that can't even wield a sword properly."

"Me too—I'm not really someone you could describe as a ninja."

Chouchou smiled bitterly.

And so did Kazune.

The battle had only lasted a short amount of time—nothing but a few exchanges of blows.

However, as a result, the two men seemed to understand each other as if they had been talking for hours.

Sometimes, a single blow of the fist spoke more eloquently than a few billion words.

At the very least—that was how Yasuri Kazune was to Maniwa Chouchou.

"Hahaha."

Laughing, Kazune brought out another sake barrel—and began to drink from it with a tremendous sound.

"It's true that what you did just now wasn't ninjutsu—just normal martial arts. It's impressive that you've trained your body to such an extent within human limits. As someone who shares the same will as you, I have nothing but admiration—I thought I'd be the only one doing this kind of stuff nowadays. By the way, your movements seemed pretty unique. Is it your own style?"

"I guess you could say that. It's called Maniwa kenpou. It's a form with a lot of history, but it's a little too old—a little too rustic, a little too antique. It needs to be adjusted for the present times—but there's no other weirdo who'd go and do something so bothersome. Well, seeing as I'm just an underling that isn't assigned any particular task, at least I have a lot of time."

"History, huh? That's a word that that fortune teller might like—or wait, did he actually hate history? I forget. I just don't really know about that guy at all."

He set down the sake barrel.

"But really, I have to thank you," said Kazune. "Because of you, I managed to think of another special move. No, rather than a special move. Once you get into that area of things, you may as well call it a secret technique. With the fastest possible movements, attack before being attacked—the method of getting ahead of the ahead should be an invincible technique. With the meaning of an attack that you can't avoid even if you see it coming, I shall give it the name of 'Kyouka Suigetsu'.

With this, Kyotouryuu has come one step closer to completion—he said.

Kazune spoke happily.

Innocently, and earnestly—so there was a person that pursued his path like so. Chouchou felt a bit strange.

Aha, it was what Kazune had mentioned before.

He'd thought—that he was the only one doing such a thing.

"You sure are weird—speaking of nowadays, that goes for you too. A mountain retreat is pretty behind-the-times now, isn't it? While you were off doing something like this, the war's gone and ended. Did you know about that? Right now, this influence called the new shogun—"

"I know. A famous person from Shikoku, right? It's putting my family in a bit of a spot—I'll probably have to end up returning from the mountains in the near future. But now is not that time. My development of Kyotouryuu is still in progress."

"Kyotouryuu, huh."

It had a nice ring to it.

He didn't know why he felt that way, but it sounded like the name of a work of art.

"Anyway, the Maniwa Ninja Corps—who are they following now?"

"Dunno—we change who we work for all the time. There are even times when we act as both friend and foe, and I don't really get that stuff. It's possible we're even hostile to your family, the Tetsubi family."

"That would be interesting."

Saying that, it seemed Kazune truly did find it interesting, as he laughed heartily.

"If that's the case, then we may as well have had a war by proxy just now."

"Ho. Then it would be the Tetsubi family that came out victorious—haha. As long as it wasn't a battle between allies."

"Of course not."

And then Chouchou—stood up.

He stretched that gigantic body of his to the air—bending forwards, then backwards. Checking his condition.

"You're going?"

asked Kazune with a smile, not reluctant to see him go.

"Yeah. I was in the middle of a task."

"I see. I was also in the middle—of training."

"I should be the one to thank you. The truth is, this task will probably be my last."

"Your last?"

"Yeah. Not my first and last—but my last and final. Because, despite being a ninja, I'm not suited to being a ninja at all. This huge body gets in the way, and I can't carry out my work properly. Even today, I was just holding one of my comrades back—so I kept thinking that there was no reason for me to keep being a ninja."

"Haha, what's with that? How stupid."

Though Chouchou opened up with his concerns, Kazune just laughed it off.

In an extremely refreshing way, he laughed it off.

"The world is what you say it is, Maniwa ninja—and so, you shouldn't speak of what you can't do. Don't speak of yourself in the negative. Speak of yourself in the positive. All you need to do is master your kenpou, and then claim that that is your ninjutsu."

"......"

"I can't wield a sword—I don't even know how to hold the hilt. But no matter what, I'm not gonna go and say that out in the open—I'll keep that fact to myself for the rest of my life, as something that only I know about. Instead, I'll insist that these arms and these legs—that this entire body of mine is my sword. You can't do it? That's wrong. It's that you don't have to do it. What tiger is ashamed of not being able to breathe in the water? You should introduce yourself in an additive way, not a subtractive way. If you can't use a sword—your whole body can simply become the sword."

That—is my Kyotouryuu.

Yasuri Kazune—stuck out his chest and declared so.

"Well, I said all that all self-importantly, but I'm just repeating the words of that weird fortune teller—haha. Well, the negative thing about this is that it's from a bungling fortune teller, so you can't really rely on it, but apparently I'm a swordsman that will change history. Isn't that something? But if that's all, then it's kind of stupid. At that point, rather than changing history, I may as well be a swordsman that creates history."

"...Yeah. Then, I'll become a shinobi that can destroy history."

He didn't even need to say it—by that point.

By the point when he had exchanged blows with Kazune, Maniwa Chouchou had already stopped thinking of this task as his last—or, rather, this task would become his first as a ninja fistfighter.

After returning to the Maniwa village.

First, he'd bow his head to Kyouken and Houou.

However, he wouldn't say any words of apology.

Instead, he'd start talking big—he'd start speaking of pipe dreams that even Maniwa Kuizame would be ashamed to speak of.

"Maniwa Chouchou. Will the next time we meet be on the battlefield?"

"Who knows? However, if that time comes, then prepare yourself. My Maniwa kenpou is still in development. Don't think that today's victory will be all."

"If you're going to say that, then even Kyotouryuu is still incomplete. It will be completed in the near future, but as for when it is completed, when it is truly and utterly completed—when it is concluded, that may not be until much further in the future. Perhaps it may not even be possible in my generation."

"That will be true for Maniwa kenpou, too. I'll take this old, moldy school of martial arts—and improve it further and take it to future generations. To future generations, and perhaps to future eras."

And.

He didn't know if it would be a hundred years, or even two hundred years in the future.

"When the day comes that a user of Maniwa kenpou and a user of Kyotouryuu end up meeting again—I'm sure it will be an exhilarating one."

◇　　　◇

Afterwards, there were quite a few more twists and turns before Maniwa Chouchou would end up elected as one of the Twelve Chiefs—at the very least, it didn't go smoothly. However, at his own request, and with the fierce encouragement of Maniwa Kyouken, he became the first kenpou practitioner in the history of the Maniwa Ninja Corps to stand in the position of chief. Even after becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs, Chouchou continued to improve upon Maniwa kenpou and finally perfected it to a point where it went beyond ninjutsu and could be used in any situation, including in one-on-many battles. Even so, he continued to apply himself diligently, saying that it was only completed, but not concluded.

Whether it was bad luck or just fate, Maniwa Chouchou and Yasuri Kazune did not have a chance to meet again, not even in battle—so the rematch between Kyotouryuu and Maniwa kenpou would have to wait for perhaps another six generations.

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polaristranslations · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 - The First Generation Maniwa Koumori

This is a story from when this country was a warring country, when times were troubled times.

◇　　　◇

Maniwa Koumori was the possessor of talent recognized by everybody in the Maniwa village, but regrettably, there was a flaw to his character. Greed, violence, treachery, wickedness—he had none of those things. In fact, he was the complete opposite of them.

Koumori lacked ambition.

He lacked a goal.

He had no desire to do anything.

And thus, he had no ambition to accomplish anything.

He simply did as he was told, which one could say made him a model for ninja.

He excelled, but he lacked a certain something.

He surpassed, but he lacked a kind of charm.

That was the ninja known as Maniwa Koumori.

But it wasn't that he was a man of strict morals. He was plenty flexible, he appreciated a good joke, and if you associated with him one-on-one—for example, if you worked together with him on a task—he was extremely easy to deal with.

He treated others with respect, to the point that he never asserted himself.

For the Maniwa Ninja Corps, a gathering of shinobi with strong senses of individuality, he was quite the rare existence, and on top of that, he bore the responsibility of being the core of the Maniwa village.

The only flaw being that he himself wasn't aware of that fact.

"Y'know, 'bout me,"

expressed Koumori one day to his fellow ninja.

"I feel like I'm kinda one of those underling types—like, there'd be nothin' easier for me than if someone decided for me what my goals were, or what I wanted to do in the future, everything like that. Living? Life? There's no rule that says I gotta decide all that for myself. If there's a commanding officer that can make use of my talent and my ninpou (ninja arts) better than me, then I won't go against them. Even if they can't really make use of it, I won't complain as long as they're gonna take responsibility."

Well.

This would be fine to hear from some town youth, but hearing it from one of the top ten influential people in a village of shinobi did not look very good for them. Nonetheless, Maniwa Koumori was still young, with a long life still ahead of him—so the villagers remained optimistic that he would one day become aware of his true ability as he completed his tasks.

However.

Showing no signs of reaching such awareness, Maniwa Koumori continued to live out his days—and that was when the Maniwa Ninja Corps came up with the plan to reorganize so that they would not take directions from just one chief, but appoint Twelve Chiefs to take directions from.

◇　　　◇

"Aah, there he is—so you were in a place like this, Koumori-chan."

In a small thicket just outside of the village, Maniwa Koumori was dozing off upside-down with his legs hooked over a branch of a sturdy-looking tree when a voice called out to him. And that voice belonged to Maniwa Kyouken.

Though her appearance was that of a girl.

Her entire body was covered with tattoos.

After being called, Koumori opens his eyes ever so slightly—and in his field of vision, he sees the form of an upside-down Kyouken.

"—What is it,"

replied Koumori with a displeased tone.

Though it wasn't because he was actually displeased—he was just sleepy.

"I'm sleeping. Don't bother me right now."

"If you're gonna sleep, then sleep at home—just because your name means 'bat', it doesn't mean you have to sleep like that."

"You suuure like to complain."

Flip.

Letting go of the branch with his feet, Koumori did a half-rotation in mid-air and landed neatly on the ground.

"Everyone's all rowdy today. I can't sleep like that."

"Well, that's for sure."

Kyouken laughed wryly.

To Koumori, it didn't really seem like a laughing matter—but feelings like that weren't really her problem, and Koumori knew that very well.

"Going from one chief to Twelve Chiefs, huh—it's like, what on earth are they thinking, right? If we do that, the chain of command is gonna become a mess. Our organization will stop being an organization—there isn't gonna be order or anything."

"Organization. Order. Never thought words like those would come outta your mouth,"

said Kyouken while laughing.

"Well, I'm sure Houou-chan has his reasons."

"And you're okay with that? The whole basis of the Maniwa village is about to be toppled over, y'know? The village of the Maniwa that's stronger than anyone—"

"What's important isn't just to leave our mark, okay?"

Kyouken shrugged, though it wasn't clear if she was serious or not.

"Plus, I'm really just an advisor here—the brains of this village is all Houou-chan. Houou-chan decided this reorganization was necessary for us to survive in this warring country's troubled times—so I'm not going to oppose him."

Not to mention the dispute with the Aioi Ninja Corps is getting worse—continued Kyouken.

Tch, went Koumori under his breath.

"You shoulda said that in the first place—'sides, when they decide on the Twelve Chiefs, you'll for sure be set up as one of them, y'know? After that you won't be an advisor or anything. You won't be able to act like you're just an observer in this village after that."

"If that happens, then it happens. I'll accept my fate. ...But aren't those words something you should be hearing? Koumori-chan."

"......"

That was indeed the case.

The chain of command would become a mess and the organization would stop being an organization—but Maniwa Koumori was not so admirable to worry about such things. He was not the type to respect the idea of keeping order. He was just a shinobi that followed whatever orders he had from above. Though he had a will, he didn't have a goal—that was what Maniwa Koumori's character was.

That's why, the problem was.

If twelve people were to be appointed as chiefs, then without a doubt—Koumori would be chosen as one of them.

"Well, putting aside Houou-chan as an exception—Koumori-chan, Kuizame-chan, and then Kamakiri-chan and Umigame-chan are sure picks, I'd say. After that, I wonder who else—"

"I feel like if you're gonna be chief, you gotta have the capacity to be the chief—and I don't have that capacity. I'm the kind of guy that gets used."

"You're the only one who thinks that—everyone else is waiting for you to just grow up."

Including me, said Kyouken.

Even though her appearance looked to be far younger than Koumori, her way of speaking seemed to be far older than him.

She didn't call herself the village's observer just for show.

"Then they can give me that role after I've grown up. All of them, seriously. They keep coming at me assuming I'm definitely gonna become the chief. There's no end to them."

That's why.

There's no way he could sleep at home.

One after another, someone would keep visiting Koumori, who was a "Twelve Chiefs Candidate".

"People change when they're put in positions of power—and shinobi are no exception. Like how it's meaningless to just leave appearances behind, it's important in a way to start with appearances, y'see."

And with that, you can take on the appearance of a someone with capacity—said Kyouken, finishing her statement.

Koumori had come to the thicket to escape from the eyes of others because he'd gotten fed up, from the bottom of his heart, with the way people seemed to be blowing smoke at others, even though they surely had no ill intent. However, now that he'd been discovered by Kyouken, it seemed he'd realized this place was no longer a safe haven.

"...So?"

said Koumori.

"What do you want, Kyouken?"

"Hm?"

"Since you came looking for me and all—don'tcha want something from me?"

"Ah, nah—it's not really anything major."

You'd get in the way of a person's good sleep for something that wasn't major, was what Koumori thought, wanting to snap at her. But with Kyouken, if you snapped at every little thing she said, there'd be no end to it.

"It's just that, right now, there's a pretty interesting exhibition going on down at the square—so I came to invite you."

"An exhibition?"

"Haruzemi-chan—you know, right?"

"Ah..."

Maniwa Haruzemi.

It wasn't to the same extent as Koumori's or Kyouken's, but the name was certainly well-known in the Maniwa village. And even though it was called a village, it wasn't a particularly large village—if someone had wits or behavior that stood out, they would soon become well-known. That meant that Maniwa Haruzemi had either, or perhaps even both. He'd never met him directly before (at the very least, he'd never worked with him before—Koumori certainly never forgot a partner he'd worked together with), but he'd definitely heard of the shinobi.

If he saw his face, he'd probably remember.

"Rumor has it he's a guy with quite the lust for power."

"Yeah. That's why he's naturally aiming to be one of the Twelve Chiefs—although, as for whether he has the qualifications, to be honest, I'd say it's about fifty-fifty."

"Is there a problem with his personality?"

"'Having a problem with their personality' applies to everyone—in the first place, the Maniwa Ninja Corps is a group of people each with their own individuality, and not a group with strong camaraderie. It's fine as long as they can show results. Plus—it's just as you said earlier. People change when they're put in positions of power."

Perhaps, added Kyouken this time.

She was smirking.

As the self-proclaimed observer of the village, she surely knew more about Maniwa Haruzemi than Koumori did.

"...So? What's that Haruzemi doing in the square?"

"He's demonstrating a new ninpou,"

said Kyouken.

"In other words, showing off his accomplishments to get picked for the Twelve Chiefs. Unlike you and me, it's clear he actually wants that extra push to become one of the chiefs—"

"And, that new ninpou is that 'extra push'?"

Hmm, thought Koumori.

Koumori didn't want to be one of the Twelve Chiefs, and yet he didn't think he could refuse if told to be one, which put him in a bind. So the fact that someone actually wanted to become one of the Twelve Chiefs seemed kind of ironic to him.

He didn't suppose Haruzemi could take his place.

If he actually wanted to be one, then they should just let him, thought Koumori.

"So—what kind of ninpou is it?"

"Oho. Are you curious?"

"Don't mess with me. I'm only asking because it looked like you wanted me to ask."

"Mmm."

Kyouken made a face as if she was at a loss for words.

"Well, I guess it's a variation on the doton-no-jutsu (earth submerging technique)?"

"Doton-no-jutsu? He's going after something pretty plain, isn't he."

Although, you could say that made it practical for combat.

It seemed like it could leave a much better impression than ninpou that was overly flashy.

If that choice was planned out, then aha, he must not just be a person with a simple lust for power.

"However, you don't really need a lot of training for something like that, right? Even I can do it."

"You can pretty much do most things, though—by the way, I can't do it."

"If you would just put your mind to it, you'd be able to do it any time."

Koumori intentionally spoke as if he was insinuating something, but Kyouken responded unconcerned, continuing the conversation with an "Even so."

"I said it was a variation, right?"

"A variation, huh. I wonder what he's changing up. No matter what you say, doton-no-jutsu is just holding a bamboo tube in your mouth and hiding yourself in the ground. And then it's just a matter of how you pay attention to the presences aboveground—"

Koumori thought there wasn't any part that could be changed up.

It was a ninpou that was basically perfect, with no room for variation.

"—So yeah. You hold a bamboo tube in your mouth, right?"

"Well, of course. Although, it doesn't have to be a bamboo tube—it's just any breathing tube. Without it, you'd just suffocate. Although, you can't last a long time—at some point you'd have trouble breathing. That's more or less the doton-no-jutsu's weak point."

"So yeah,"

said Kyouken.

"The point of Haruzemi's revision is to strengthen that weak point."

"......"

"To not need a breathing tube. Moreover, to be able to stay submerged in the ground for a long time—that's the new doton-no-jutsu."

"The new—doton-no-jutsu."

"He called it the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi (Submerged Chrysalis)', you see—"

Being told that.

Koumori wasn't sure how he responded.

Ninpou "Moguri Sanagi".

If that was possible—it would be of great use for everyone's work. But as a result, it seemed entirely too idealistic—he thought it was a ninpou that couldn't exist.

Whether it was a bamboo tube or something else, the traditional doton-no-jutsu required a breathing tube—in other words, it meant that it indicated your location submerged in the ground to those aboveground. And, though it was a technique for concealing yourself, you couldn't conceal yourself for long—however, it wasn't quite right to call that a weak point.

It wasn't a weak point, but a necessity of human physiology.

However, Haruzemi's ninpou supposedly managed to compensate for that.

"...There's no way."

That was all Maniwa Koumori could say after being told about a ninpou that couldn't possibly exist. At the very least, it would have a great effect were that ninpou to be actually performed.

"If he manages to do that—he'll be one of the Twelve Chiefs for sure."

"Indeed. I think so, too."

"But what's the logic behind it? If there's no need for a breathing tube, that means he figured out some other way of breathing—"

"Well, it's not like I can tell you even if you ask me about it. Apparently he thought of it on his own, so it's probably not something especially mysterious, but the 'Moguri Sanagi' is Haruzemi-chan's weapon for the sake of becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs. He's not going to just teach it to someone else just like that."

"Well, guess you're right."

"Also—it's not like he's succeeded yet."

Hence—the exhibition.

Koumori was convinced.

Plus, a bit of curiosity welled up within him.

"Apparently, the grubs of a cicada can live in the earth for seven years or whatever. By absorbing nutrients from the roots of plants. I think he said the logic had something to do with that."

"...Sounds like a stretch."

It was hard to believe humans could follow the same logic as cicada grubs.

Nevertheless, it wasn't like Koumori could come up with a different logical explanation for it.

"Well, it's a ninpou that's rather befitting of the name Maniwa Haruzemi—that is, if he manages to succeed."

"Yup."

"So, what about the exhibition? How's he doing it?"

"Mmm... Well, you see."

There, Kyouken tilted her head.

"It was maybe a bit misleading to call it an exhibition. After all, there's really nothing to see if he's underground—basically, he dug a hole in the square. With the help of one of his subordinates, he was able to bury himself—afterwards, it's just a matter of some genin, his subordinates included, standing guard."

"Standing guard? What for?"

"So that he doesn't secretly come aboveground or whatever."

"Ah."

"And, just like that—for now, it'll go for one week."

Saying that, Kyouken raised one finger.

"Apparently, Haruzemi himself said he'd be able to last for years at a time, just like cicada grubs, but it's not like we can wait that long for that—if we waste too much time, it won't just be the dispute with the Aioi Ninja Corps, but the troubled times themselves that are gonna end. You know, that new shogun that conquered the six daimyo? Apparently, he's been on a roll lately."

"The new shogun, huh?"

The new shogun.

In actuality, he hadn't become the shogun just yet, but there existed a military commander that called himself that. The Maniwa village was a unit of hired mercenaries that did not belong under any one influence, but on the other hand, it meant that they could take action regardless of whatever influence commanded them—and among those, Koumori couldn't help but think that the influence of the new shogun felt a bit ominous.

It was hard for Koumori to imagine someone that could unite this country at war that was disarrayed by disorder, but if someone like that did exist, it was surely a being not unlike the new shogun.

—That was.

That was, most likely—someone with the capacity to stand above others.

"...Oi, Koumori-chan. Are you listening?"

"Hm? Yeah, sorry. Um, what were we talking about?"

"Like I was saying—for now, it's one week. If he can stay hidden underground for one week—then it will be considered a success."

"Well, a success, huh? I'd say three days would be enough."

If he wanted to be extreme, he'd be fine with even one day.

After all, if a normal person tried to last that long buried underground, they would definitely pass on.

"Well—it doesn't end there, right?"

"Right. Afterwards, he has to be able to come out of the ground on his own, without any assistance—and after that, he has to correctly guess who was standing guard over him."

"......"

"It's not like the same people are going to be standing guard for the whole week. Every day, they're going to take turns standing guard—and he's going to have to guess the order correctly."

If he's unable to grasp the state of affairs aboveground while buried under the earth, then it wouldn't be much use as a ninpou—said Kyouken.

"Of course, the order gets determined after Haruzemi is buried. So there's no way anyone will have informed him beforehand."

"I see..."

It didn't seem like there was any room to cheat.

It was very thorough.

"As long as the ones standing guard aren't all his accomplices, seems like we're gonna have to recognize it as a new ninpou if he succeeds."

"There's no way they'll all be his accomplices. While there are subordinates of Haruzemi, there are also subordinates of those hostile to Haruzemi."

"Hostile?"

"Well, it might be an exaggeration to call them hostile. Maybe I should describe them as rivals? Haruzemi isn't the only one aiming to be one of the Twelve Chiefs, after all."

"Oh yeah."

"From their point of view, if Haruzemi fails here, then it'll be a good chance for them—so they'll probably cooperate for that reason."

"He's really thought it through."

However—it was quite tenacious of him.

It was surprising how far he'd go for such a thing, thought Koumori.

And, he felt just a little bit embarrassed at his own lack of enthusiasm.

It may sound nice to be able to claim that he had no lust for power, but could that actually mean that he was lacking in affection for the Maniwa village?

"Seriously—if he wants, he can just take my place."

"That's no good, either. There's no way someone can just take someone else's place—even with your ninpou, for example."

As a result of the words of the honest Koumori, Kyouken couldn't help but smile.

"So, what are you gonna do? Do you want to go and watch? I'm going to go head there right now, if you are."

"—Well."

Maniwa Koumori.

Lazily shook his head from side to side.

"Maybe if I feel like it."

And, having said that.

Koumori would ultimately not go to watch Maniwa Haruzemi's demonstration of his new ninpou, 'Moguri Sanagi', in the village square.

◇　　　◇

It was a week later when notice of Maniwa Haruzemi's death spread throughout the village. Normally, it would've been the day that the success or failure of his new ninpou was ascertained, and since it had been a ninpou that had gathered a lot of attention due to the exhibition, the reality of Haruzemi's death stretched out to the corners of the village in an instant.

Naturally, it also reached the ears of Koumori, who was dozing off in a nearby thicket as usual.

At first, Koumori thought,

"Oh."

So he failed, was what he thought.

Though he'd boldly claimed how he'd revised the doton-no-jutsu into a new ninpou, it must have still been in the experimental stage in the end. Since the plan to reorganize the Corps to have Twelve Chiefs itself was decided rather suddenly, Haruzemi must not have had enough time to test out his new ninpou. Of course, in a way, the odds had been in his favor—after all, if things always turned out as expected, there would be no need for ninja in this world.

But, as expected, one week was too long a period for a human to stay buried underground. It wasn't just a matter of breathing—there were definitely more problems than just that. In other words, it meant that Haruzemi's revision failed to resolve all those problems—that was what Koumori thought.

However.

When he heard the details, apparently, that wasn't actually the case.

Success, and failure.

The problem was something that came before that.

After the week-long period had passed and Maniwa Haruzemi had not reappeared, the genin that were standing guard had decided that he had failed, and moved to dig Haruzemi back up. While it was probably too late, perhaps they could make it in time to resuscitate him.

Just as expected.

Maniwa Haruzemi was dead.

It was death by suffocation—however, the genin discovered something from Haruzemi's body that wasn't just as expected.

On the back of Maniwa Haruzemi's neck.

They found the mark of a rope imprinted clearly on his skin.

Underground, Maniwa Haruzemi had been hanged—

And murdered.

◇　　　◇

"—What's the estimated time of death?"

Maniwa Kyouken peeked into the hole where Haruzemi had been buried—the hole in the village square that had been dug out and not refilled—as she spoke the following.

"According to the Shiryouhan (Death Healing Squad), it was five days ago. In other words, from the start of the unveiling of his new ninpou, it was about two days. For the five days after that, he was buried here as a corpse."

"I see—"

It was Koumori, standing directly behind Kyouken, who responded.

There was nobody else around.

They'd ordered everyone else to stay away.

Right now, the ones in the square were—Kyouken and Koumori, just the two of them.

"—So the genin that were standing guard were just watching over a corpse, huh. What an empty task."

"Well, it certainly is empty. Of life—"

Hup.

And with that, Kyouken dove into the hole.

It wasn't that deep a hole—but it wasn't that shallow, either. It had a depth of about one jou. For any ninja from the Maniwa village, it was a depth that they would easily be able to enter or exit from.

Kyouken lay down at the bottom of the hole.

"Hey, do you mind burying me for a bit?"

"Hm? Sure."

Being told that, Koumori went to the mound of dirt beside the hole—most likely the dirt that had been dug up—and began dropping it onto Kyouken's body, one lump at a time.

However, soon after.

"Blech, I give up,"

said Kyouken, standing up and jumping back out of the hole.

"It's no use, it's way too intense."

"Of course it is."

Koumori had a dumbfounded look on his face.

Kyouken, covered with dirt, tried to dust herself off.

"In the first place, trying to spend time underground completely cut off from the outside world is going to be pretty uncomfortable."

"Yeah. In that sense—if it had been completed, it would've made for a really useful ninpou. The ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi', that is."

"Maybe it actually had been completed?"

said Kyouken.

"Maybe that's why—he was murdered."

"......"

The fact that Maniwa Haruzemi had died.

In itself, it wasn't that much of a problem.

For shinobi, life and death weren’t that big of an issue—to them, living and dying may as well be the same thing.

Even Koumori had that level of awareness.

However—being murdered was a different matter.

"Not to mention, it's one thing if he was killed while being careless on a job—but since he was killed right in the middle of our village, that's not something we can ignore. No matter how much I pretend to be an observer—and no matter how much you pretend to be a hermit."

"I don't remember pretending to be a hermit, though,"

said Koumori.

He looked back into the hole.

"Well, the first suspects that come to mind would be those Aioi Ninja Corps that are constantly after us... But I wonder. It feels like it's fine to actually cross them off the suspect list in this case only. If they were able to infiltrate the village for this, then that would be another problem entirely."

"That's for sure. So that can't be it—the Maniwa village hasn't fallen so far that they wouldn't notice any intruders. Not to mention, Pengin-chan and the others have been setting up a barrier—"

"So that means,"

said Koumori, sounding fed up with the whole thing.

"It was someone among us that killed him, huh."

"Indeed."

There wasn't even a need to confirm it a second time.

Koumori had already realized it when he'd first heard the news, and had confirmed it today when he was called out by Kyouken.

After all, Maniwa Kyouken...

Was extremely sharp when it came to these things.

"And that's why I said we should stop this Twelve Chiefs stuff—Houou shoulda known that struggles for power'd turn into us killing each other."

"You're probably only against the Twelve Chiefs plan because you're too lazy to get your noggin running. Don't act as if you foresaw this happening—and if we're talking about Houou-chan, then I think he already took this situation into account."

"Huh?"

"Basically, it's thinning out the ranks. Uncovering the kind of immature person that would kill their comrades out of a lust for power—maybe."

"That's not really fair to the person that gets killed, is it?"

"Well, if they're going to get killed, then that makes them pretty immature, too. A person that gets betrayed lacks the disposition to lead others."

Being respected is a talent in itself.

That was what Kyouken said.

"In that sense, you're completely equipped to have the capacity for leadership—Koumori-chan."

"I dunno about that. Who knows when someone'll take me out some day."

"I'm saying you have enough talent to not be taken out."

"Oh."

He nods noncommittally.

There wasn't really any point to arguing against it.

"But thinking about it that way... Hmm. For Haruzemi, it wasn't completely certain whether or not he'd become one of the Twelve Chiefs, right? If this was a murder due to a struggle for power, then they shoulda aimed for me or you. Then that would've opened up a seat for sure."

"Like I'm saying—the culprit didn't have the confidence to take one of us out,"

said Kyouken with a smirk.

"That's why—I can see why they'd make the choice to take out Haruzemi-chan, who was aiming for a spot as one of the Twelve Chiefs by demonstrating his new ninpou. It's certainly one type of strategy to ignore the ones that are sure to be elected and enter into a mudslinging match with other candidates instead."

"Even so, killing is kinda going too far, I'd say. They coulda just gotten in the way of him demonstrating the ninpou instead."

"That's—that's true."

There was no need to actually kill him.

Of course, killing him was the easiest way to handle it—but killing your comrades wasn't exactly a common affair.

"Why—why did they kill him? Actually..."

Koumori.

Spun around, taking a look at his surroundings—and then spoke.

"How did they kill him?"

"......"

Naturally, Kyouken had no response.

She couldn't respond.

Indeed—the problem here was not why Haruzemi was killed, but how he was killed.

The ninja hidden in the earth.

Who could've been the one to kill him, and how?

"Especially if it was strangulation—it would be a lot easier to figure out if he'd been stabbed from aboveground with a spear or something. Although, that would be impossible because of the ones standing guard—"

"Incidentally, did anyone find the rope that was used as the murder weapon?"

"Nope."

Kyouken shook her head.

"Unfortunately not. It would probably just be a normal rope, after all—like you said, it would be one thing if it was a spear, but there are any number of ways to get rid of a rope like this. I think it'll be impossible to tie down the culprit from that direction."

"I see... A way to strangle someone who's underground, huh. Well, it may be a bit anomalous, but..."

Koumori seemed a little embarrassed at his own words, but he continued.

"It's basically a locked-room murder."

"......Yeah."

Kyouken nodded and clapped her hands together.

"That's true. It's certainly a locked room. It can't get any more locked off than this."

Though whether it was a "lock" or not was pretty dodgy, continued Kyouken.

"However, isn't the usual premise of a locked-room murder to try and convince people that it was a suicide? But if they went and strangled him, then there's no way it's a suicide here."

"I just said it because I felt like I had to say it. You don't need to take me so seriously—well, putting aside what the motive could be, I don't have any idea what the method could be at all. Since, even if it's a locked room, it's not like there was an actual lock or key."

"Yep, it's a little too physical for that."

"...This is just for example's sake, but..."

Koumori lowered his voice, and then continued.

"Is it possible for the guys standing guard to have lied?"

"Hm?"

"Basically—it's only thanks to their testimony that we know that Haruzemi was buried for that entire week, right? But... um... was it two days? The people on watch around that time could have lied—"

No, wait.

If they were going to go as far as lie.

If that was going to be assumed—

"—isn't it possible that they're the culprits?"

"......"

Kyouken suddenly put on a serious expression.

It was an uncommon sight for her.

No—this was her natural expression, thought Koumori.

After all, even though she pretended to be just an observer.

She was someone that stayed at the center of the village more than anyone—and surely, even if the number of chiefs were to increase to twelve, that wouldn't change.

"Basically,"

said Koumori.

"Maybe at night, when everyone left but the ones standing guard, they dug out Haruzemi from underground—and strangled him to death. No matter how good of a ninja Haruzemi was, well, he'd probably get killed if he faced all the ones standing guard at once. And, after he was killed, they put him back into the ground just as before. Then they'd just have to nonchalantly keep standing guard—and, when it became time, they could nonchalantly call the next group of guards."

"There's no way."

In an instant.

Maniwa Kyouken denied Koumori's theory.

"I said this before, didn't I? There was no room for the guards to conspire with each other. If that had been possible, then the whole demonstration of the new ninpou would have been pointless."

"Ah—that's right, isn't it."

Those that were for Haruzemi, and those that were against.

The guards had been woven together with people from both sides.

"Well, just in case, I did hear the stories of the genin that were on guard during the estimated time of death—but I don't think they're going to be of any use."

"There were a few people that could use the ninpou of truth detection, right? Although, I guess they're pretty popular, so they're more often than not outside the village—"

"Lucky, one of them was still in the village and said they would help us out. But without even needing to look into it, all the guards are innocent. As far as I can see."

"—Well, if you're saying that as the observer, then I suppose it's gotta be true—"

However.

In that case, the crime couldn't have been committed.

"Having said that, we shouldn't just use truth detection willy-nilly on just anyone. It sucks that we carelessly got the estimate for the time of death, though—if it wasn't for that, we could just end the case by saying, 'one of the guards secretly strangled him while they were digging him up'."

"Seems like it would be pretty difficult to secretly strangle someone with a village full of ninja watching, even if they were all genin."

"Incidentally, about this case—has Houou said anything?"

"Not really. He hasn't even told us to go look for the culprit."

I'm just doing this on my own volition—said Kyouken.

That was about what Koumori had expected, so he said nothing and nodded.

"What if, when he was being buried..."

Koumori began to describe what had just come to mind.

Even though it was a theory that he knew from the beginning was wrong.

"Someone wrapped a long rope around him. So that the ends of the rope were still left aboveground. Then, it's just a matter of pulling those ends—and that would strangle him. And after checking that Haruzemi was dead, they could just pull the rope from just one end—then only the rope itself would get pulled out from underground. Leaving just Haruzemi's strangled corpse in the ground..."

After all that, he said,

"How about that?"

and waited for Kyouken's response.

"It's impossible."

Again, in an instant, Kyouken denied it.

"There are way too many parts of that that are impossible. You probably already realized it yourself, so I won't pick it apart bit by bit. In the first place... The whole point of the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' was to not leave any traces of it aboveground. If there was a rope coming out from underground, someone would have noticed."

"Hmm. Well, that's true."

"It might not be good to say this, but..."

Kyouken began speaking with a rather desolate tone of voice.

"This might be a case of, 'the nail that sticks out gets hammered down'. It was pretty ostentatious, this demonstration of his—and it wasn't exactly ninja-like, so to speak."

"...Is that so?"

"Well, it's a bit late now, and I'm not saying this because I find it amusing—but for example, I'm familiar with your ninpou. And you're familiar with my ninpou. But that's only because we've managed to see through each other's ninpou—it's not like we taught each other about ours in detail. That's fine. That's what ninja are all about, and that's what ninpou are all about—they aren't something that should expressly be taught. Ninpou aren't something to be taught, but something to be learned."

But then, said Kyouken.

"No matter how much he wanted to be part of the Twelve Chiefs—if he didn't try to teach everyone in the village so ostentatiously—"

"That's why he died like this?"

said Koumori, finishing Kyouken's thought.

"Well, yeah, Haruzemi had his own problems. Even so, that doesn't mean he shoulda been killed. To kill one of your own—that's a disgrace to ninja."

Although it’s true that we aren't really a group with a sense of camaraderie, Koumori said as if spitting out the words.

At this point, finally.

Koumori became aware that his feelings had been extremely hurt because of this incident.

He wondered why.

It wasn't like he'd worked together with Haruzemi before.

Was it because Haruzemi had had a sense of enthusiasm—that he himself didn't have?

A lust for power.

In other words, ambition.

Though the problem was he had too much of it—

However, not having enough of it could also be considered a problem.

To be honest, Koumori had already gotten prepared for the idea of himself becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs. This wasn't him getting conceited or presumptuous, but a composed decision that it was sure to happen.

He didn't have any other choice.

If this was his destiny, then he'd follow it.

But he felt pity for the subordinates who would have to work under a person with no urges like him. At the very least, Koumori could never show off the workings of his ninpou for the sake of getting ahead in life—and then.

Suddenly, Koumori hit upon an idea.

"...Hey, Kyouken."

"Hm?"

"What about you? For whatever reason—would you ever show off your ninpou, your precious ninpou to everyone else?"

"No... That's kind of..."

After thinking about it, Kyouken responded like so.

"I've never thought about doing that, though."

"Just for instance—let's say you weren't in the position of advisor, nor were you a candidate to be one of the Twelve Chiefs... And let's say you would be promised a position if you decided to demonstrate your ninpou. Would you still do it?"

"...Well, if I was actually placed in that situation, then maybe my opinion would change."

After thinking about it—and after saying that as a preface, Kyouken responded like so.

"But... No, I don't think I would. I don't think ninpou should be used for that purpose."

"Yeah."

Koumori nodded.

"I—think the same way."

"...But, that could just be my and your way of thinking—if Haruzemi-chan thought differently, then that could just be chalked up to our individual differences, right? It's just a difference in our principles. Though it's as a result that he became the nail that stuck out, though—"

"No."

Koumori interrupted Kyouken's words.

"I think I got it—I think I figured out why Haruzemi did something like that. Or should I say, I was only able to figure it out because it was me. Because my way of thinking was the exact opposite of Haruzemi's—"

"......?"

"So, Kyouken."

Now, Koumori was the one to jump into the hole.

And, from there, he looked up at Kyouken—

"I think I figured out how Haruzemi was killed,"

he continued.

"Eh? You figured it out?"

To the astonished Kyouken, Koumori said, "Though I only think I figured it out."

"Besides, the only thing I think I figured out was the method behind the crime—well, I guess maybe I might have figured out the motive, t too. However, I dunno who the culprit is specifically."

"......"

"But I should be able to narrow it down—it's definitely a crime done by one of us. It wasn't the Aioi Ninja Corps or some other powerful shinobi group... At least, I hope."

"That doesn't sound very dependable after all that."

Kyouken could only smile wryly.

To Koumori, who was in the hole.

"However, if you've figured out that much, then that should be enough—Maniwa Koumori. Koumori-chan. That's why you—are one of the Twelve Chiefs."

"It hasn't been decided yet, y'know."

After saying that, irritated...

Koumori closed his eyes and deliberated for a moment.

And, as if he finally hit upon something—

"How's Haruzemi's body being dealt with right now?"

he asked Kyouken from within the hole.

"Let's see—well, we couldn't just leave it alone. Following the usual process, I'd say he was buried."

"Hm."

Koumori nodded exaggeratedly.

"Then—shall we go with that plan of attack?"

◇　　　◇

It had been yet another week before the news that Maniwa Haruzemi had returned from the dead had propagated throughout the Maniwa village. It seemed almost like a joke, the way he casually greeted the gatekeeper and entered the village, as if he had just come back from shopping.

When pressed for an explanation, he simply said without diffidence,

"It's nothing, this was what the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' was all about,"

as a response.

Everyone was struck with admiration and bewilderment at that response, but he said, "I'll explain it, so gather everybody," and headed to the village square—yes, the very same square where Haruzemi should have died while demonstrating his new ninpou.

There, he explained it like so.

"Basically, the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' is a technique where you die while staying alive. Some people thought it was a breathing technique that manipulated the respiratory organs, but in actuality, it's a method to manipulate your life force. To make a long story short, I put myself in a state of suspended animation, and limited my biological responses like breathing to the bare minimum—that way, it's possible to survive even underground. Well, it was a pretty grueling task to make out what was going on aboveground while in a state of suspended animation, but that's where I can show off the fruits of my training."

"B-but, wait, Haruzemi-dono."

One of the ninja—one of the genin that had stood guard while Haruzemi was underground—hesitatingly interjected into Haruzemi's words.

"When we dug you up, Haruzemi-dono—you had absolutely for sure been dead."

"That's right. Otherwise, the 'Moguri Sanagi' wouldn't have worked. There are several ninpou that can put you in suspended animation, but those ninpou put you at half alive and half dead at best, about fifty-fifty. However, the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' puts you at nine-tenths dead, and the remaining tenth alive. ...Of course, I was still alive in the end, and while I was maintaining my consciousness I got to enjoy the confusion from you fellows."

"N-no way—"

The genin wheezed.

"Haruzemi-dono, wasn't the plan for you to dig yourself out of the earth?"

"It wouldn't be any fun that way. I wanted to put on a little show—however, I figured at least one person would realize, so I maintained my state of suspended animation, but I was shocked that even the members of the Shiryouhan concluded that I was actually dead. What a great lineup of doctors we have, here. If any of you get hurt, you should be careful if you go see them."

"W-well then."

Not knowing when to give up, the genin continued.

"What about—the mark of a rope that was found on the back of your neck?"

"That was a part of the show I was putting on. I can't reveal that person's name now, but the truth is, I revealed what I was plotting to a single one among you fellows. My request was, as my body was being dug up, so that nobody would notice—for them to strangle my neck and leave a mark."

"......!"

This put everyone present at a loss for words, all of them exchanging glances with one another.

However, they couldn't figure out who it could have been.

It had been a week ago.

"The marks made on a living body and the marks made on a dead body are different—but in my case, I was still living while dead, and still dead while living. It was a rather simple matter to disguise at what point in time the traces of the rope were actually left. In fact, that's the true essence of the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi'."

Haruzemi spoke eloquently.

"Although, I never thought you would bury me just like that, but that in itself was rather entertaining. I thought I would try spending another week or so while dead. If I was dead, I figured I might be able to hear your true thoughts regarding me."

And then.

Then, Maniwa Haruzemi made a joke that was quite unlike something that Maniwa Haruzemi would do.

"Oh my, what's the matter? You fellows, you all look like you've seen a ghost."

—In any case.

Maniwa Haruzemi's demonstration of his ninpou had ended up in such a state—so it was just a matter of time before he was recommended to be one of the Twelve Chiefs. Despite him treating the concept of life as his plaything, in the end, it was only his life that he treated as his plaything, so there was no room to complain.

Under those circumstances.

After Maniwa Houou, Maniwa Koumori, Maniwa Kyouken, Maniwa Kuizame, Maniwa Kamakiri, and Maniwa Umigame, as the seventh person to be named as a candidate for one of the Twelve Chiefs, Maniwa Haruzemi's name propagated throughout the village, stronger than ever—

◇　　　◇

"Oi... What are you getting at, Haruzemi."

Just like that.

That night, Maniwa Koumori was called out to from behind.

They were at the village square.

A hole had already been dug into the ground.

It was late—a dark night with no moon.

In order to lure his prey out, Koumori had spent the whole night at the square—but he was relieved that someone had called out to him, the form he'd taken, earlier than expected, and casually turned around.

Standing there was a young man that he remembered.

He'd worked with him before.

His name—if he remembered correctly—was Maniwa Matsuzemi.

"Oi, say something, will you? What are you getting at that you'd tell such a huge lie? Are you trying to cover for me? If so, that must mean you're looking down on me, huh. Or, is there something else that you're plotting?"

"......"

"Oi! Haruzemi!"

The young man—Matsuzemi—yelled in anger.

At Koumori.

As if—he was speaking to Haruzemi.

But that was completely reasonable of him—because at that moment, Koumori had made himself look exactly like Maniwa Haruzemi.

"So it was you, huh,"

said Koumori quietly.

Sounding disappointed, just a little.

"Huh? What are you talking about—"

Stopping Matsuzemi, who was about to flare up even more, with a raised hand, Koumori took his opposite hand and began to massage his face—and as he did.

The face of Maniwa Haruzemi vanished.

And the face of Maniwa Koumori returned to its usual place.

"Eh..... Aah....!?"

In astonishment, he pulled back his body that had leaned forward, but it ended up throwing him off balance, and Matsuzemi fell on his behind in quite the unsightly manner.

And with a contemptuous glance—

"—Even though we've worked together a number of times, I guess I never showed you this ninpou, huh. Well, according to Kyouken, ninpou aren't something to be taught, but something to be learned—but I'll treat today as a special case and teach you about mine,"

said Koumori.

"The ninpou 'Kotsuniku Zaiku'—by manipulating your skin and muscle and physique, you can turn into anybody, any person you think of. That's my, Maniwa Koumori's, unique ninpou."

Yes.

Maniwa Haruzemi—was indeed dead.

The Haruzemi that had returned from outside the village had simply been an impostor, impersonated by Koumori using his ninpou. The original Haruzemi had been dug up and carefully examined to produce the copy.

Calling it a simple disguise wouldn't even come close to describing it.

It was truly a ninpou unique to Koumori himself.

Of course, he hadn't forgotten to move the original Haruzemi's body to a different location—

"Ko—"

Matsuzemi choked.

"—Koumori-senpai, wh, wh, why did you—"

"That's what I'd like to ask you, Matsuzemi,"

Koumori said to Matsuzemi, who was still on his behind.

"Why did you kill Haruzemi?"

"......"

"Well, that was just something I wanted to ask, since I can more or less predict the response—I've pretty much figured out the method and the motive for the crime. The only thing I couldn't figure out was the criminal. But I never thought it'd be you—"

As far as Koumori remembered about the man named Maniwa Matsuzemi, he was a very serious and honest ninja. In a different way from Koumori, he was a rare existence in the Maniwa village, being the kind of man that treasured the harmony between his peers.

To think—such a guy would resort to killing.

"...If I've been exposed, then I suppose there's nothing I can do."

As expected, Maniwa Matsuzemi.

Said as such—without making any excuses or struggling in vain.

"So basically, I was successfully brought out by Koumori-senpai... I'm still pretty immature, aren't I. Even though I could have probably seen through it if I'd just thought about it—no, there was no way I could have seen through it. With the way you turned into such a perfect copy—I didn't have a chance, even though I used to be Haruzemi's closest friend. For you to be able to deceive even my eyes—"

"You were—his friend?"

"Yes. I used to be. In the past tense,"

said Matsuzemi.

With a bitter smile on his face.

"However, Koumori-senpai. How did you figure it out? You're giving off the feeling that you managed to see through everything..."

"Eh. In general, it just happened to come to mind. And it happened to fit perfectly. Well, even so—if I had to say, it would be because Haruzemi's demonstration of his new ninpou was all too unnatural."

"......"

"Of course, he probably did have the ambition to become elected as one of the newly-established Twelve Chiefs. But even so, I could hardly think that he would go as far as putting on such a large-scale production to gather so much attention—"

Koumori looked at Matsuzemi as he spoke.

"Whether it's new or old, ninpou aren't something that are meant to be exposed to people—after all, to ninja, ninpou are their lifeline. They're not something you spread to others. Whether it's your enemies or your allies. But if there was a reason for him to do that... I was thinking that maybe Haruzemi wanted to make something an established fact."

"An established fact,"

repeated Matsuzemi with a pained expression.

"Yes—that's exactly right. What he wanted was for the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi'—to be recognized as his unique *ninpou, his and his alone*."

"......"

"*Even though—I was in pursuit of the same *ninpou."

They—used to be friends.

That was what it meant.

Koumori came to a profound realization.

And then.

He thought, that must be why—this incident had occurred.

"Well, it's not hard to figure out the rest after that—if you assume that the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi', a ninpou that improved upon the doton-no-jutsu, did exist, then you could simply use it to kill Haruzemi underground by strangling him—"

That was—the method of the crime.

If anything, that was all it was.

Maniwa Matsuzemi had dug further underground than Maniwa Haruzemi, who had hidden in the ground with the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi'—and then he had strangled him.

For Haruzemi, who was busy paying attention to the matters aboveground, he surely didn't think that anyone would have approached him from behind.

"However, Matsuzemi—ninpou development is supposed to be a fair competition, you know? It's like we're all hunting for treasure together. To go off and kill him just because he got ahead of you... Isn't that unjustified resentment?"

"That's not it! That guy... In order for him to demonstrate his ninpou before me, he went an announced an incomplete version of 'Moguri Sanagi'... Just to get ahead of me!"

"An incomplete version, huh."

Even so.

It seemed like a valid ninpou.

"However, well, it's true that the ability to freely move underground—your ninpou maybe has a higher degree of completion."

"Right!?"

"However."

Koumori stopped Matsuzemi, who had unthinkingly raised his voice.

"You could say that's why Haruzemi had gotten impatient and tried to set up his demonstration earlier than he should have. A treasure hunt isn't always first come, first served, but considering the circumstances in the village, being even one step behind could have been deadly. I would say even being able to hide in the earth without a breathing tube is a fine ninjutsu in itself—kind of ironic, really. You two were supposed to be good friends that were training your ninpou—and rivals that encouraged each other in pursuit of the same ninpou."

That was—the motive for the crime.

After saying it—if anything, that was all it was.

"If you simply wanted to block Haruzemi from becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs, then there was no reason for you to kill him—it was just that you held a personal grudge against him for being beaten to the punch while aiming for the same ninpou."

"He didn't beat me to the punch! He stole a march on me! Haruzemi, it's all because that guy tried to demonstrate an incomplete 'Moguri Sanagi'! Do you know how much of a disgrace that would've been for me? There's no way it makes sense for me to be late just because I cared more about completing my ninpou! H-his actions—they're a rejection of the ninpou development that I poured my heart and soul into!"

I couldn't.

I couldn't forgive him—said Matsuzemi, with all of his might.

"Rather than him,"

he said.

"Rather than him, it should be me—I'm the one that's more fitting to be one of the Twelve Chiefs!"

"......"

He was—a hostile force.

Although, since they were friends, and rivals pursuing the same ninpou—it wasn't clear if he'd be recognized by those around him as a hostile force.

However—so such normal motives existed.

Or so Koumori thought.

He would go that far—because he wanted it that much?

He wanted to stand on top of others that much?

Koumori didn't understand it one bit.

Neither the feelings of Maniwa Haruzemi, who wanted a seat on the Twelve Chiefs so bad that he'd demonstrate an incomplete ninpou—nor the feelings of Maniwa Matsuzemi, who would go as far as killing his friend, who'd overtaken him in their bout of friendly rivalry.

"You wouldn't understand,"

said Matsuzemi.

As if having seen through Koumori's inner thoughts.

"For someone like you, Koumori-senpai—who had been chosen from the beginning—you wouldn't understand at all."

"...Were you thinking about performing the demonstration yourself, after Haruzemi failed? Did you think you'd be able to get a seat on the Twelve Chiefs after that?"

"I haven't thought that far. If you ask me, I'd still say that the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' was still incomplete. It's still not something that can be shown to others—"

Matsuzemi snickered.

"But, I just wanted to kill him. Because I couldn't forgive him. Because of how frustrated I was."

"......"

He didn't dare to nod in understanding, but Koumori judged that those his true feelings. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone for a method as haphazard as strangulation—he would have picked something more effective. By killing via such a method, it made it clear that Haruzemi had not died due to the failure of his new ninpou—that he had died at someone else's hands.

It was practically out of desperation.

When Koumori imitated Haruzemi and appeared in the village—he must have been quite shocked. It hadn't made sense to Koumori, who had known that it would be a trap, but Matsuzemi had appeared so quickly at the village square with good reason.

Koumori didn't know Haruzemi very well.

As such, no matter how superior the ninpou 'Kotsuniku Zaiku' was as a ninjutsu, there had certainly been an element of unnaturalness added to it—and for Matsuzemi, who had been his friend, perhaps he had been able to sense that bit of unnaturalness.

And yet, he hadn't been aware that, in that moment, all his tricks would be revealed.

That was also—the result of his desperation.

"...So."

Matsuzemi—picked himself back up in a rather relaxed manner.

"So, what are you going to do to me now—Koumori-senpai?"

"...Eh."

With a low voice, Koumori responded to Matsuzemi's question.

"We're ninja, after all—the one to get killed is the one that's more of an idiot. That's what I think, basically. I'm repeating Kyouken's words here, but—a person that gets taken out by one of their comrades pretty much didn't have the disposition to lead others in the first place. If Haruzemi actually had the capacity to be one of the Twelve Chiefs—then no matter how much you wanted to kill him, he probably wouldn't have gotten killed."

"......"

At the very least, Haruzemi should have taken some precautions.

Against the possibility that his friend might come to kill him.

"We're shinobi, after all. No matter what anyone says, we're just short-lived goods with mean and dirty work as our main selling point. Our lives are our own to protect. Killing a comrade may be a serious crime—but I don't really care about delivering judgment on it, or telling anyone else, either."

At present, the one and only chief, Maniwa Houou.

Had perhaps suddenly brought up the Twelve Chiefs plan in order to smoke out people like Maniwa Matsuzemi, or so Kyouken had said—and Koumori couldn't help but think that that Houou really would do that—

But that was a different story.

As long as it hadn't been clearly decreed, it wasn't an order.

"Plus, I'm a little impressed—if anything. Well, not just impressed at you, but including Haruzemi, too. Stealing a march on your friend, and then getting your revenge, all for the sake of your ambitions... I guess those sorts of desires are pretty common. But I don't have anything like that—no ambitions or goals, nothing like that. I just can't think about things in the same way you guys do. Really—it's amazing."

"...It all just sounds like sarcasm to me, Koumori-senpai,"

said Matsuzemi—while taking a step back.

It seemed he was breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Well, it's fine... I didn't expect Koumori-senpai to understand me, anyway. But basically, you're just going to let me off, right? From that serious crime of killing a comrade—"

"Yeah. Killing a comrade is totally fine,"

he said.

And in that instant.

He must have predicted it in advance, because when Maniwa Matsuzemi jumped back to run away—Maniwa Koumori spat out bo-shuriken from inside his mouth even faster, piercing Matsuzemi's windpipe.

"That's why—it's fine if I kill you, too."

He spoke quietly.

As if trying to persuade him.

"This ain't one of Houou's orders—but I don't care if he predicted this happening. Maniwa Matsuzemi. Out of my own will, I'm gonna kill you."

It wasn't clear if that voice of Koumori's had been heard or not.

Matsuzemi flapped his mouth open and shut, as if trying to say something—but, without being able to say anything, he tumbled to the ground.

His dying face was quite far removed from a tranquil one.

As Koumori looked down at Matsuzemi's body for a moment—

"Is it over?"

spoke a voice from behind him. And towards where he sensed that presence from, he said,

"Yeah,"

in response.

This time, without turning around.

It was Maniwa Kyouken.

As a precaution, he'd explained the situation to her and asked her to keep watch—naturally, Kyouken had been there, listening to the entire conversation between Maniwa Koumori and Maniwa Matsuzemi, without missing a single word.

However, it was as expected of a self-proclaimed observer of the village.

She had—the same arrogant smirk on her face as always.

"Well,"

said Kyouken.

"It is what it is."

That was.

Maniwa Kyouken's sole, official stance on the matter.

That's really like you, said Koumori with a bitter smile.

It was really like her, as someone who, more than anyone, thought about this village—who, more than anyone, respected the lives of her comrades.

"But, well, thanks to this, the truth behind the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' will forever be unknown, huh—that whole suspended animation and whatnot that you were preaching about was just a lie you made up on the spot, right?"

"Like I had a choice. Ninpou are something to be learned—right?"

"That's true."

"Maybe it actually did use the logic behind cicada grubs."

"Ha."

"Hey, Kyouken."

As if looking up at the moonless night, Koumori spoke.

"I—decided to try becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs."

"...Well, whether you liked it or not, I figured you'd become one in the end."

"I'm saying, I decided to try liking it."

"Why?"

"So that idiots like those—"

The only thing in his line of sight was Maniwa Matsuzemi's body.

But it seemed Koumori was including Haruzemi as well.

"So that idiots like those don't appear in this village again."

"I see. Well, you may as well try it."

She accepted it with a tone of voice that implied it didn't really matter to her.

"By the way? What should we do? About Matsuzemi-chan's corpse,"

she said.

"I don't think you'll be able to go public about the fact that you killed him."

"You're right. May as well dig up a hole and bury him."

◇　　　◇

After this, as had been expected by many, Maniwa Koumori would come to be praised as officially one of the Maniwa Ninja Corps's Twelve Chiefs, and, as had been expected by many, he left behind a great number of glorious military exploits. As a result, his name would be inherited again about two hundred years later.

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