Naruto: I Became a Sword Saint in Konoha Chapter 43 43: The Withdrawn Shinku

Gekkō Hoshiyomi and Sakumo followed Akimichi Torifu through the halls of Konoha Hospital.

Since the ceasefire had already been declared, things weren't particularly busy at the hospital. It didn't take Hoshiyomi long to find his mother. He greeted her, as he always did, and casually ntioned that his new team leader was none other than Akimichi Torifu.

Because Hoshiyomi had given her a heads-up, Rie wasn't too startled when she t the man in person—though she was clearly still surprised. She was well aware of Torifu's reputation. The fact that her son would be apprenticed to soone so prestigious made her more happy than shocked.

After the brief exchange, Rie personally led them to Shinku Yūhi's hospital room. As soon as they stepped inside, Hoshiyomi and Sakumo saw Shinku lying on the bed.

He was alarmingly thin—his cheeks sunken in, his entire fra looking fragile to the point of worrying whether soone in his condition could really handle the physical demands of being a ninja.

Though Shinku appeared physically fine, it was obvious he hadn't ntally recovered from the trauma of watching his team die. His eyes were still dull and lifeless.

All three of his teammates—including his sensei—had perished right in front of him. He alone survived, barely escaping with his life thanks to a well-tid genjutsu. For a fresh graduate who hadn't even been on the job for long, that kind of nightmare was far too cruel.

Torifu walked over and gently patted Shinku's shoulder.

"Co on now, no more zoning out," he said kindly. "Let introduce your new teammates. This is Hoshiyomi, and this is Sakumo. From now on, you'll be working together."

Shinku flinched at the touch and let out a startled yelp. But when he saw that it was only Torifu, he muttered an apology, "Sorry, sensei. I just..."

Torifu waved it off with a casual smile. "It's fine. You'll get used to things in ti. Why don't you get to know your new teammates first? You'll be going on missions together, after all."

At the word mission, Shinku's brow imdiately furrowed. He was clearly still traumatized.

As he looked toward Hoshiyomi and Sakumo, his eyes suddenly widened. He pointed at them and exclaid sharply, "Them? My teammates? They look like they haven't even finished their second year at the Academy! Are you kidding ?! You expect to go on missions with these brats and expect to live? I just barely made it out alive last ti—I'm not throwing my life away all over again!"

Clearly, Shinku hadn't recovered from the psychological damage of that failed mission. It was as if his entire worldview had been shattered. The first mission he ever went on had ended in utter disaster, and the trauma had left him afraid—afraid of dying, afraid of missions, afraid of trusting anyone.

To be fair, his words weren't ant to insult Hoshiyomi or Sakumo personally. He simply believed that peers his age—like his forr teammates—were weak and fragile, and assigning him two even younger kids felt like a death sentence.

Sakumo's face tightened in frustration. He leaned toward Hoshiyomi and whispered, "Did he just underestimate us? What's that supposed to an? We don't even need him to finish missions."

Hoshiyomi patted his shoulder, signaling him to calm down.

He actually understood Shinku better than most would. Back in his previous life, after losing five or six rounds in a row in a competitive ga, he'd felt sothing similar—doubting his abilities, blaming teammates, and thinking the whole world was out to get him.

It was a familiar condition known as:

Tilt.

Shinku was tilted. Hard.

But Hoshiyomi knew this state of mind wasn't permanent. As long as soone could restore his confidence and give him a few wins under his belt, he could recover.

With that in mind, Hoshiyomi smiled and said, "Don't worry. Teaming up with us doesn't an you're going to die. We'll protect you."

Shinku let out a bitter chuckle. "Protect ? You? You two look like you'd go down in five seconds the mont a real fight starts."

Rather than respond directly, Hoshiyomi slowly walked over to the fruit basket beside the bed. He picked up an apple, tossed it up and down a couple tis, and then—without warning—threw it high into the air.

Before Shinku could guess what he was up to, Hoshiyomi unsheathed the kunai strapped to his thigh and, in one fluid motion, slashed the air.

There was only a brief flash. In that blink, Hoshiyomi had already returned the kunai to its sheath, spinning it lazily around his fingers before clicking it back into place.

Torifu, clearly in on the act, reached out and effortlessly caught the falling apple with both hands.

Then Hoshiyomi looked up, gave a cocky smirk, and said, "That's why."

Shinku scoffed. "What, cutting fruit midair? That's nothing special. I could probably—"

He froze mid-sentence.

Torifu turned the apple in his hands and held it out for Shinku to see.

The apple had been sliced into eight near-perfect wedges.

In the instant the apple had flown upward and begun to fall, Hoshiyomi had struck it four tis with pinpoint accuracy—clean, even, and flawlessly symtrical.

And the most terrifying part wasn't that he cut it—it was how straight and smooth each cut was, like it had been asured with a ruler.

Okay... maybe I can't do that.

Shinku stared in disbelief. Even if he'd been holding the apple in his hand, he doubted he could've sliced it so cleanly. What kind of freak is this guy? Has he been training in swordsmanship since he was in the womb?

"Not gonna eat it?" Torifu asked cheerfully. "Then I will."

He tossed a wedge into his mouth and gave an exaggerated "Mmm!" before chuckling.

Shinku quickly snatched the remaining pieces away, stuffing two of them into his mouth like a child afraid soone else would eat them first.

Then, finally, he turned toward Hoshiyomi and Sakumo, eyes sparkling.

That look said everything: Senpai… please carry .

With that, Shinku Yūhi officially joined the team.

Outside the hospital, a breeze rustled the trees as Torifu watched his three students with a warm smile. "Well, now that our team's finally assembled, we should—"

"We're doing survival training next, right?" Hoshiyomi interjected smoothly.

"Eh? Survival training?" Torifu blinked. "No no, I ant we should go get so barbecue to celebrate."

Hoshiyomi (ー_ー)!!: My bad. Carry on.

Author's Note:

An apple sliced once horizontally and once vertically gives eight segnts, right? I think my math checks out, but feel free to correct if I'm wrong.

Also… I just rembered that last book where soone mastered throwing shuriken with perfect accuracy in a five-square-ter cell…