002: When in Trouble, Consult Your Superior

Becoming more passionate isn't necessarily a bad thing. A young man should act his age, and Daimaru only despised the sudden emotional outbursts that caused uncontrollable mishaps and unwanted consequences. Fortunately, over the years, he'd picked up a few tricks for managing his emotions. While he couldn't boast a dramatic increase in power, his foundations had become exceptionally strong, allowing him to survive the perilous Land of Wind time and time again.

After tidying up, Daimaru noticed the ninja next door had stopped her tirade—probably exhausted from the effort. Living in a communal apartment had its downsides, especially with a bad-tempered neighbor like Sayako—an exceptionally volatile and vicious kunoichi skilled in puppetry and mental mystic arts. Despite her privileged background, she chose to move here, and her relationship with the other tenants, especially since Daimaru's arrival, had been nothing short of strained.

Thankfully, everyone's early starts and late returns meant that confrontations were limited to verbal exchanges. Listening to the howling wind outside, Daimaru gradually drifted into slumber.

...

The next morning, a reinvigorated Daimaru burst out the door. Any trace of last night's chaos caused by Gaara's loss of control had been cleaned up, as if it had never happened. Walking down the spacious streets, Daimaru arrived at a familiar doorstep to find his old teammate opening the door.

"Hey, Jikanri, long time no see," Daimaru greeted warmly, slinging an arm over his friend's shoulder. "Miss me? Must've been tough doing missions without me, but from today onward, I'm back..."

Jikanri, a bit uncomfortable with Daimaru's enthusiastic approach, sheepishly spoke up, "Daimaru, I'm sorry, but a lot has happened during your absence..."

"A lot?" Daimaru looked puzzled at the uneasy Jikanri. "You look off. Are you feeling alright?"

"It's not that," Jikanri replied apologetically. "After the last C-rank mission, we didn't think you'd survive, so..."

"Right, any problems with that?" Daimaru's memories were becoming clearer as he matured. Although his body was of decent quality, it was as if it was cursed with bad luck. During his nearly four-year tenure as a Genin, bizarre accidents were common, and two months prior, he almost met a fated demise in the vast desert.

It was beyond everyone's expectations that Daimaru would escape from such a dire situation. To honor his brave sacrifice, he was given the title "Red Sandstorm," but to everyone's surprise, the Hidden Sand's Anbu corpse disposal team managed to dig out a barely alive Daimaru from the sands.

"Actually, our squad has since filled the spot with a new member..." Jikanri bowed deeply, unable to meet Daimaru's embarrassed gaze. "I'm really sorry!"

"What do you mean?" Daimaru was slow to catch on. "Are you saying you don't need me?"

"Sorry, at the time we all thought you were dead, so..."

"Sabaku-sensei agreed to this?" Sabaku, a bald and experienced Jounin, was nominally Daimaru's squad leader.

"At first, he disagreed, but the urgency of the missions forced us to find a temporary replacement, and it just happened."

What's done was done, and Daimaru was powerless to change it.

"Who's the new team member?"

"Kuma-za. You know him, a guy with a bad temper."

"Oh, him." Someone of fair skill but full of pride, self-importance, and disdain for others, and with poor people skills to boot.

Jikanri whispered, "Truth be told, we all preferred you as a teammate, but now... it's too late..."

"So..." Daimaru let go of Jikanri's shoulder, opened his mouth to speak but found no words.

"I have to go. Take care..." Jikanri said before swiftly departing.

Daimaru, suddenly alone, gave a wry smile. He'd planned to do a few missions before the Chunin Exams to earn some money and buy quality ninja tools, but now those plans were dashed.

Returning to his apartment in a sour mood, Daimaru couldn't shake a sense of injustice. "If this goes on, I'll be in trouble. Not just missing out on the Chunin Exams and the Leaf destruction plan but even the right to go on missions as a lone Genin. Am I supposed to just watch Temari and Shikamaru Nara flirt?"

His plan to nip their budding romance in the bud hadn't even started before it seemed doomed.

In his original plan, he would directly defeat the immature Team 10 in the Forest of Death, eliminating them, or lead his squad to break through the encirclement, disrupting the third round of the preliminaries after the Forest of Death, ensuring Temari and Shikamaru were separated, preventing any interaction. That would have been enough to achieve his goal.

Now the biggest challenge seemed to be securing a spot in the Chunin Exams. Talk about bad luck.

Unable to think of a solution, Daimaru decided to take a bold step and seek an audience with the Kazekage. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong, and Jikanri had his reasons, but this issue of not having a squad required the intervention of someone powerful. And who was more powerful in the Hidden Sand than the Kazekage? Wasn't it only natural for a father-in-law to help his son-in-law out of trouble?

The administrative building of the Hidden Sand was imposing and spacious. After a long wait, Daimaru was finally granted an audience. Unlike the approachable leader of the Hidden Leaf, the atmosphere in the Hidden Sand was markedly more austere.

Daimaru didn't get to see what the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, looked like today. Cloaked and his head covered by a straw hat, his face obscured by a dust mask, the Fourth Kazekage looked enigmatic.

"So, you're Daimaru? What do you need from me?" the Kazekage inquired.

"Lord Fourth, I've encountered a problem that only you can address, and I had to come to you," Daimaru began respectfully.

"Oh? Let's hear it..."

Daimaru recounted his tale of honorable death, miraculous survival, and the subsequent awkward situation of being teamless. "Lord Fourth, I had hoped to become a Chunin soon and devote myself to the village, but now all my plans are dashed. I humbly ask for another chance to serve our village..."

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