Chapter 4:Why is it like this?

Kiruma had spent the entire month sparring with Akagi. Of course, he did other training along with it, but sparring was his main focus. Yet in the end, he couldn't half replicate any technique Akagi used—he could just recognize what was used and the basic principle behind it.

"Kid... I know you're not that talented, but even this is a bit disappointing," Akagi said with a disappointed tone while Kiruma just stood there with a straight face. "Sigh... Look, kid, not everyone is a prodigy. Either you aren't trying, or somehow this is the worst way to teach you. If that's the case, good fucking luck because there really is no other way. Here's the deal, kid: we have to go on D-rank missions today, multiple of them. So the task is simple—you go and do the job all by yourself while we excuse ourselves. Then you get all the pay for it and we repeat this cycle until you can buy a ninjutsu scroll. Capiche?" Kiruma simply nodded.

Never mind that he would rather fight in a war if it meant he wouldn't have to do this shit. It was easy, yet it made him feel worthless. He had spent his whole life trying to become a shinobi—all the books he read about warfare, all the training he did, all the times he tried extra hard to achieve something seemingly worthless. It didn't matter. At this rate, when they went on a C-rank mission, he would be the worst injured or likely the only casualty. They would brush it aside with, "Oh, it was just another civilian kid," they would say. He never had the support of a clan, he didn't have a dojutsu, he never had a whole clan to borrow money from—he only had himself.

Kiruma sat in his tent. He wanted to be alone to ponder what he would do now, but even that didn't help. "Fuck this shit... fuck this, I am so done," he muttered. He went for a walk in the village until he was in the back alleys. Then he saw two people: one was grinning like a madman and shaking like he was going to explode any second now, while the other was calm. The latter wore a mask to hide their face and handed the man before them... wait, that smell—'It's easy to recognize when you live here... meth.' Kiruma wanted to stop it, but he didn't. His body moved on its own. After the crackhead left, he approached the dealer.

"Oh my, another Genin here to save the day. Tell me, have you ever t—"

"Let me join you," Kiruma interrupted, leaving the masked person speechless. But he quickly composed himself.

"Huh... well, let me ask you why, kid. And don't lie to me—I can tell when people lie," the man said. His voice sounded male, but that wouldn't change anything. Kiruma kept his usual straight face.

"I want to get money to buy scrolls and whatnot to get stronger," Kiruma said.

"And... why?" the man asked.

Kiruma stood tall and simply replied in a monotone voice, "Because it's my goal..."

"No, why... why is it your goal? A true goal is something that must have meaning and value and mustn't be affected by other people or circumstances... so why?" The man pressed.

Kiruma stood quiet. He didn't know what his goal was if that was the way to make a goal. 'Think, think, think,' he told himself. This was the only chance he would get to become stronger, and he would be damned if he let it go to waste.

"I want to do it... for me... so I can live a good life in the future as a strong and respected shinobi. I think I want to give worth to myself, to tell myself 'it was worth it'... because worth is my lifeline..."

The mask hid the man's true face, but Kiruma could feel him smirking as he chuckled. "Kid... you're hired..."

The man led Kiruma through the basement of his house, where Kiruma learned more about him. He was a special Jonin. The difference between a special Jonin and a regular one is that while normal Jonins are capable in a variety of fields, even if they have a main focus, a special Jonin has one field they excel in. This could range from torture to dealing with criminal cases, for example. It appears this man specialized in narcotics and worked alongside the Leaf police force, so he wasn't just a random guy who happened to have a small drug business.

"Anyways, kid, my name is Takuma Aburame, and I have a decently big drug empire I call... Breaking the Bad. I know who you are too. Genins are the most susceptible to corruption, but you... you're different," Takuma said.

Kiruma narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Okay, you got me. You aren't different; you are weak, and the only thing you're good at is tests, which don't even fucking matter. But you know what? You have a desire to succeed, so this will be a mutual partnership. I will pay you greatly for your services, and I will offer you some training. Of course, what kind of training I don't specify—heck, mostly I won't be there, but you get the point. So first off, you're going to be a dealer," Takuma said, handing him a mask. It was all black, and he could barely see through it, but it worked. "I will take 60% of what you earn, and if it keeps going like this, well... let's just say you'll earn enough to get a scroll every week unless something drastic happens to the industry or us."

Kiruma nodded. "But we will have to launder the money in a sense. So how will we make the money I gain seem realistic?" Kiruma asked.

Takuma merely laughed and turned toward him. "Professionals or capable people always think of the next step. Think of where you are now, make a plan to get ahead while planning out the other steps. To put it simply, plan it all ahead. And I planned it ahead, and thanks to it, I became a man with many talents."