“Have you been out here long?” he asked her. “And what do you want me to call you? Actually what’s our protocol on names, Captain? Hajime was pretty strict about using mask-names only in the field, but we’re on home turf now.”

"Mask names in the field, last names on duty,” Raidou said, after a moment’s thought. “You can call each other whatever you want in your own time.” His masked face inclined towards Katsuko. “Within reason.”

“You can call me Ueno,” said Katsuko. “Ueno-sama, that is.” There was a brightness to her voice that suggested laughter, like the dial had twitched inside her to yet another setting.

“And you can call me lieutenant, Ueno-kun,” Genma told her.

Katsuko cackled a laugh and saluted him. At his side, he felt a subtle shift in Raidou’s presence. Not disapproval.

That was something.

He made room for Katsuko to join them at the wall. “I’m not sensing anything out there.”

“How far can you reach?” Raidou asked.

“A little over three klicks, in a cone about 900 meters in diameter. More if I really try, but it tires me out faster. I could take another soldier pill and get a bump in my distance for an hour or so, if you think it’s worth it.”

“Not necessary,” Raidou told him, tipping his head towards Mei. Beyond her, another of Konoha’s sensor specialists was scanning east-southeast, her reddish hair a copper halo in the morning sun. There were more in her cadre perched at regular intervals all along the wall, scanning for foreign chakra out to at least ten kilometers. The very best could reach up to fifty. “They've got you beat, but you've got me beat,” Raidou said. “I just wanted to get an idea of how far you could reach. I don't get anyone's files until the teams are fully assigned.”

Genma nodded. “It doesn’t hurt to have me looking, too, but you’re right. No point wasting my chakra when it will be better spent on jutsu. If it comes to that.”

“Save it,” Raidou agreed. “If they get close enough for you to sense, we're in for a fight anyway.”

Genma nodded and settled back into watching the sunrise with his new teammates. Golden light grew whiter, shadows shorter, and early morning bird calls gave way to the chirps and twitters of mid-day. At some point a group of chuunin came by with coffee and stacks of bonito and bamboo shoot onigiri for breakfast. Genma cast a small genjutsu over the three of them to preserve the illusion of remaining masked while they ate. Then they went back to watching.

Nothing happened.

No alarm call was raised, no enemy materialized.

As yet another messenger hawk streaked overhead towards ANBU headquarters, Genma sighed and wished he could smoke through his mask. Except he was quitting. Definitely quitting. Tomorrow.