Gacha Senju: Lucky Perks, Lucky Ladies

A/N : This is my first fanfic , if you have some ideas regarding future scenarios please comment. ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Chapter 3: The Test of Survival

The first hints of morning light stretched across the sky as Kiyoshi stepped onto Training Ground Four. The air was cool and still, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and pine. He adjusted the forehead protector resting against his brow, mentally preparing himself.

Mikoto was already there, her arms folded as she leaned against a tree. Her dark hair, tied in a low ponytail, shifted slightly in the breeze. Her crimson Sharingan eyes were active, scanning the area with silent calculation.

"You're early," Kiyoshi noted, stopping a few feet away.

She didn't look at him. "I prefer to be prepared."

The sound of rustling leaves caught their attention as Ryota approached. He stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly. "Man, I almost slept in."

Mikoto's gaze flickered toward him. "That would've been a great first impression."

Ryota smirked. "Would've given us an excuse if we fail, though."

Before Kiyoshi could comment, a faint shift in the air signaled their instructor's arrival.

Kenshiro Inazuma stood a few meters away, arms crossed. His green eyes swept over them, unreadable but sharp. His flak jacket bore signs of wear, a quiet testament to his experience.

"Good. You're all here."

His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—like a drawn blade waiting to be swung.

"This exercise isn't about teamwork," Kenshiro continued. "It's about instinct, adaptability, and endurance. Your mission is simple—survive until sunset."

Ryota blinked. "That's it? Just survive?"

Kenshiro's smirk was brief but dangerous. "Oh, I promise, it won't be easy."

Without warning, Kenshiro's hands flickered through seals.

A moment later—poof!

Smoke bombs exploded at their feet, shrouding the area in thick gray mist. Kiyoshi reacted instantly, leaping backward and landing in a low stance, his senses sharp.

He's fast…

Mikoto's crimson eyes darted through the haze. "He's gone."

Ryota unsheathed his katana in a single, fluid motion. "Tch. Of course he pulls a disappearing act."

Then—

A violent gust of wind blasted through the clearing, parting the smoke just enough for Kiyoshi to see the glint of metal—

Keng!

Mikoto twisted at the last second, a kunai barely missing her as it embedded into a tree trunk behind her.

Ryota reacted purely on instinct. He swung his katana toward the disturbance—only to slice through empty air.

Kiyoshi's pulse quickened. He's hunting us.

A flicker of movement—

Kenshiro materialized behind Ryota.

"Too slow."

Before Ryota could turn, Kenshiro's palm slammed into his back with crushing force. The impact sent him sprawling forward, skidding across the dirt.

Damn, he hits hard! Kiyoshi thought.

Mikoto retaliated immediately. Her fingers blurred through hand seals. "Fire Style: Ember Shuriken!"

Tiny embers flickered into existence around her as she flung three shuriken toward Kenshiro. The moment they left her grip, the embers exploded into small, crackling flames, turning the weapons into spinning arcs of fire.

Kenshiro barely tilted his head.

Shing! Shing! Shing!

With inhuman precision, he swiped a kunai three times, deflecting the flaming projectiles mid-air before vanishing once again.

Kiyoshi had already moved. He formed a hand seal—Clone Jutsu!

Two identical copies of himself appeared beside him, mirroring his stance. The three of them spread out, making it harder for Kenshiro to pick a target.

For a second, there was silence.

Then—

A shadow flickered behind Kiyoshi.

Kuh!

He barely registered the movement before an iron grip seized his wrist.

Kenshiro was there.

"Nice try."

With brutal efficiency, Kenshiro twisted Kiyoshi's arm behind his back, forcing him off balance. Before he could react, Kenshiro drove a knee into his stomach.

Pain exploded in Kiyoshi's gut. His body lurched forward as the air was forced from his lungs.

Mikoto and Ryota lunged at the same time.

Ryota's katana cut a sharp arc through the air—only to be met by Kenshiro's forearm. The blade struck fabric, but Kenshiro's muscles were like steel; the strike barely phased him.

At the same time, Mikoto came in low, aiming a sweeping kick for Kenshiro's legs.

Without hesitation, Kenshiro jumped, twisting mid-air. His free hand grabbed Ryota's wrist and yanked, throwing the swordsman off balance.

As he landed, Kenshiro slammed his foot down—right where Mikoto had intended to kick.

The sheer force of it sent a shockwave through the ground, disrupting her momentum.

In that split second of imbalance—

Kenshiro spun and slammed an open-palm strike into Mikoto's shoulder, sending her skidding backward.

Kiyoshi, still gasping from the knee strike, barely caught himself on one knee. His mind raced. He's not just testing our combat skills—he's reading us. He's letting us attack, just to see how we fight.

Kenshiro exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "You're reacting well, but reaction alone won't keep you alive."

He took a step back, allowing them to scramble to their feet. His expression remained unreadable, but there was no mistaking the sharp glint in his eyes.

"You have until sundown," he reminded them. "Try not to die."

And then—he was gone.

Kiyoshi coughed, pushing himself upright. "Well… that went about as expected."

Mikoto rolled her shoulder, wincing slightly. "He's holding back."

Ryota groaned from his spot on the ground. "Oh yeah? Sure doesn't feel like it."

Kiyoshi dusted himself off, eyes narrowing. "He's testing more than just our strength. He wants to see if we can think like shinobi."

Ryota sheathed his sword with a frown. "Then what's the plan? We can't outrun him, and we sure as hell can't outfight him."

A slow grin formed on Kiyoshi's face.

"We don't fight him head-on," he said. "We hunt him instead."

Mikoto raised an eyebrow. "Turning the test on its head?"

Kiyoshi nodded. "If he wants us to survive, we do it on our terms. We know he's fast, we know he's stronger. But even Jonin have weaknesses."

Ryota smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Alright, genius. What's the plan?"

Kiyoshi's eyes gleamed.

It's time to show Kenshiro-sensei that we're more than just fresh graduates.