It ives and I have multiple chapters of it written!
xRSxxRSxxRSx
I unsealed the steel mannequin with a puff of chakra and a hiss of air as the scroll flared to life. The thing dropped with a heavy thud onto the worn patch of dirt in my training yard, the ground trembling slightly beneath its weight. It was solid, too heavy to drag from the shed, which was why I started sealing it for convenience.
Technically Naruko was the one that sealed it, but I refused to acknowledge my thanks after she teased me after I accidentally blew up a seal.
I set it up, locking its base into the earth so it wouldn't tip, and stepped back a few paces. The metal caught the morning light in dull silver streaks, dented and scorched from past sessions but still holding firm.
I exhaled once, closing my eyes. I focused, then drew chakra through my tenketsu and guided it deliberately, up my arms, flooding through my shoulders, and tightening in my fingers. A familiar burn made its way through me, sharp and controlled. Then I opened my eyes, stepped in, and started punching.
Each strike rang out with a loud clang, the force of my enhanced blows echoing off the steel like hammerfalls. My knuckles stung almost immediately, even with the chakra buffering them, but I kept going, left, right, elbow, palm strike, again. It wasn't about breaking the thing. It was about pushing just past what I could manage yesterday.
Graduation was soon and I would need everything I had. About a year at most before the chunin exams, before Orochimaru.
Behind me, Naruko sat cross-legged by a tree bordering the yard, shoveling rice and grilled fish into her mouth from a bento box with absolute calmness you would expect from a Floridian alligator that ate flushed meth. I didn't need to look to know she was watching.
She gave a loud, satisfied mmph between bites. "You know," she said around a mouthful, "you could just punch actual people. That's what I would do, -ttebayo."
I didn't respond. Stopping to respond would mean thinking, and I was doing this to avoid thinking.
Clang.
Naruko kept chewing. Kept watching. The scent of her breakfast drifted past, and I briefly regretted not eating first.
Clang.
One more hour, I told myself. Then a break. Maybe.
I stepped in again, ducked low, and shifted my stance.
The next strike wasn't with my fists. I planted my hands against the steel torso, chakra surging down into my legs, and launched myself up. The air cracked behind me as I flipped over the mannequin, twisting my body in a tight arc above it.
At the apex of my spin, I drew my hands together in a practiced blur, blurring through hand seals.
My lungs filled with chakra-laced air as my hands snapped to the final seal. Mid-twist, I exhaled sharply.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
A roaring fireball erupted from my mouth, illuminating the sky and reflecting off the dull steel below. The heat licked across my face as I angled the blast downward, right toward the mannequin's chest.
It hit with a sound like thunder, flames engulfing the steel target in a bloom of red and orange. The fire dispersed a moment later, leaving only the scorched, blackened surface of the mannequin smoking faintly beneath me.
I landed a few feet away, sliding back with a soft thud of sandals on dirt. My breath came out slow and controlled, my stance relaxed but ready to dash in again.
From the tree, Naruko let out a whistle. "Well damn, Sasuke. That's one way to make a point."
I wiped a sleeve across my mouth, the lingering heat still curling around my lips.
"I wasn't making a point."
She grinned, stuffing another bite into her mouth. "Sure you weren't."
I rolled my eyes and turned toward her, brushing the soot from my sleeves. "Are you going to make your clones or are you just going to sit there and chew in my ear?"
She wasn't that loud, but she was still a loud eater.
She giggled around a mouthful of rice, swinging her legs lazily where she sat. "Say please."
My eye twitched. Involuntarily, of course.
I let out a breath, slow and pained, then put a hand to my chest and bowed with a theatrical flourish. "If it would so please the golden princess, might she honor the black prince with a dance across the training yard?"
The bento box nearly tumbled off her lap as she choked on her food. Her face flushed scarlet, eyes snapping away from me like the sun had suddenly come too close.
"Sh-shut up," she muttered, voice high and completely betrayed by the growing color in her cheeks.
But she stood, brushing crumbs from her lap, and with a single hand sign, a dozen Narukos appeared around the field, all grinning and stretching like they were warming up for a relay.
I cracked my neck, flexed my fingers, and smiled just slightly to myself.
Back to work. Though I should enjoy for now how easy it was to win the back and forths because I had little natural charisma, just that she was naive and not quick witted on comments.
My Sharingan flared to life, the world sharpening in an instant.
I surged forward with a burst of chakra and blurred across the training yard. One clone barely turned before I was in front of her, my elbow crashing into her guard. She flew back, dispelling in a puff of smoke.
Another came at me from the side. I twisted low, pivoted off one foot, and drove a punch into her ribs. She blocked, barely, but the force sent her skidding back, heels scraping the dirt.
I didn't stop moving. Another flash step, another strike, another clash of fists and flickers of smoke. The yard became a web of motion, my eyes tracking every twitch and shift, feet gliding effortlessly from one target to the next. My punches came faster, my momentum rolling from one blow to the next with barely a breath between.
Two more clones came at me in tandem, one high, one low. I ducked under the first, twisted mid-roll, and drove a heel straight into the other's back before she could react. Poof.
I landed smoothly, chest rising with sharp exhales, a wild grin pulling at my face.
I was chaining it all together. Finally. Not just flashes of speed or instinct-driven strikes, but a rhythm.
I could feel it, my body catching up to the experience crammed into my mind.
The grin on my face evidently unnerved Naruko's clones, because the look now plastered on my face had more than one of them flinching before I dashed forward.
xRSxxRSxxRSx
The classroom was louder than usual, the floor of the training hall packed with students pairing off and trading strikes under Iruka-sensei's half-distracted supervision. The final month before graduation had everyone on edge, more drills, more spars, more last-minute posturing from people who wanted to make impressions before assignments went out.
I stood with Neji near the back wall, both of us with arms crossed, watching another spar play out in the center. Two boys, civilians, and they had comparatively clumsy footwork, no sense of timing. I'd already gone a few rounds earlier, so had Neji. Iruka knew better than to force us into anything structured at this point but I expected either Naruko, Neji, or me being paired up to spar; perhaps Lee.
"This is a waste of time," Neji said idly, eyes tracking the fight without real interest. "Some of them won't even pass. It's already been decided."
I gave him a sideways look. "Decided by who?"
"Fate," he said simply, like that answered anything.
I rolled my eyes and exhaled through my nose. "Fate's a stupid excuse."
Neji's pale eyes turned toward me. Calm, unreadable. "It's not an excuse. It's reality. We are born into our roles. Into our limits. Trying to escape them only wastes energy."
"That's not how it works." I shook my head, glancing back at the spar. One of the boys slipped and got tagged in the jaw. "A river only flows one direction, yeah, but it twists. Forks. Spreads. Just because you were born on one bank doesn't mean you're stuck there."
Neji didn't speak right away. He stared at me, as if trying to decide whether I was being naive or willfully ignorant. "You can't change where you come from."
"Maybe not," I replied, "but you can change where you end up."
The silence between us stretched. Then he looked away, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, not in annoyance, but in thought.
It wasn't the first time we'd talked like this. Wouldn't be the last. But something about his silence this time felt heavier.
We weren't friends exactly. Not yet. But he'd started seeking me out for conversations. He never said it aloud, but I think he respected being challenged.
So did I.
My gaze drifted across the yard, casual at first, until I spotted her.
Naruko stood off to the side with Lee, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing animatedly as she laughed at something the bushy-browed friend of ours said. Her grin was wide, bright, and then she turned just enough that I caught it.
A bruise. Faint, yellowing at the edges but still there, blossoming across the edge of her cheekbone like a shadow someone forgot to clean up. Probably from earlier that day. I'd seen her get clipped during a spar with probably Lee, she hadn't backed down, of course. Because she never did.
I forced my jaw to stay unclenched, but something tightened in my chest anyway.
It was nothing. A bruise. She was a shinobi-in-training. This was normal. Expected.
Still, the uneasiness crawled up the back of my neck, and I had to resist the urge to glare at her like it was her fault for getting hit. I clicked my tongue softly and looked away, trying to focus on Neji again.
You're being an idiot, I told myself. It's a bruise. She's fine.
But ever since that day, since she almost was killed, I hadn't done well seeing her hurt outside of me specifically training with her.
No one noticed, of course. Not her. Not even Kakashi. But it was there, all the same, buried just below the surface, simmering quietly and low.
I crossed my arms tighter and watched the sparring ring again.
Maybe Neji wasn't completely wrong. Maybe some things were set in motion and impossible to shake loose.
Or maybe I just didn't like the idea of her laughing like that while sporting a reminder that this world was still too dangerous.
Either way, I hated the feeling.
The spars were starting to wind down, the crowd of students shifting restlessly as another match ended. Dust hung in the air, kicked up by all the movement, and the low buzz of conversation and footsteps filled the courtyard. I could feel the heat of the afternoon pressing down through my shirt, the weight of the sun stretching shadows long over the training ring.
Mizuki stood near the center, clipboard in hand, scanning the roster with his usual half-bored expression. Then his eyes flicked up, a glint of interest passing through them.
"Next up, Uzumaki and Uchiha," he called out.
The words snapped through the yard like a trigger. A few heads turned immediately. Of course they would, that matchup always got attention.
Naruko perked up instantly, cracked her knuckles and was already bouncing on her feet as she jogged toward the ring.
I sighed, pushing off the tree I'd been leaning against, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I walked out after her. I could feel the way people watched us. Like they expected fireworks.
They weren't wrong.
We stepped into the ring, the dust swirling around our sandals. Naruko tilted her head at me, eyes gleaming with mischief, the bruise on her cheek now fully visible. She looked absolutely ready.
I met her gaze evenly, already feeling my chakra begin to stir under my skin.
She smiled, wild and bright. "Try not to get knocked on your butt this time, Sas'ke."
I didn't say a word, glaring at the bruise on her cheek as I blinked once and my Sharingan flared to life.
Mizuki's arm dropped. "Begin."
I closed the space in a heartbeat.
My first jab snapped for her chin, feint. She bit. I shifted the strike mid-motion, hammered an elbow toward her ribs. She twisted, forearm sliding into the blow, the impact thudding into muscle instead of bone.
Naruko grinned, spun off the block, and her knee came roaring up for my stomach. I dropped my weight, let it graze my shirt, and fired a kick at her supporting ankle. She hopped clear, sandals scraping dust, and was already driving a straight right for my jaw.
Good. My Sharingan tracked the strike, my vision breaking her motion into clean frames. I rolled inside the punch, let it slip past my ear, and answered with a left hook that would've cracked most students' guards.
She met it head-on, chakra-bolstered palm to my knuckles, the clap echoing like a firecracker. The shock stung up my arm. I felt her chakra flare, strong and hot, smashing against mine where our hands locked.
Neither of us gave ground.
I forced her hand off, and snapped a kick straight up for her shoulder. She crossed her arms to block; the impact jolted through both of us. Before she could reset, I spun, heel whipping for her temple. She ducked by centimeters, braid whipping the air.
She drove forward while I was still pivoting, short, brutal body shots, her fists pounding like hammers. I caught two on my guard; the third thudded against my ribs. Pain flared, dull and bright, but I fought through it, planting my feet and slamming a knee toward her midsection.
She twisted, let me glance her side, then answered with a head-level roundhouse that ripped the air in front of my face.
One breath. Then a second.
The ring around us blurred, all noise in the background gone. Just her and me, exchanging strikes that would flatten anyone else in this class.
I felt my blood spark, the grin stretching wider on my lips.
Time to push harder.
I surged forward, Sharingan spinning, reading the twitch of her muscles before the blows even came.
A straight punch to my face, I tilted back just enough to let it scrape the air.
A low sweeping kick was my response and I was already moving, anc stepped over it and punished her exposed side with a hard palm to her ribs. She grunted, staggered a half-step… and then smiled.
She tanked it. Like it was nothing.
Fine.
I snapped my fists out, a flurry of jabs and hammering hooks. She blocked most, slipped a few, but the rest landed, one hitting her shoulder, stomach, and collarbone. She took them all, chakra rippling under her skin as she refused to give ground. One shot rang off her temple. She blinked, but didn't slow.
A normal hit would've rattled someone. Dazed them. Naruko just grinned wider, cheek flushed with the imprint of my knuckles.
I growled under my breath, ducked a wide swing, and punished her with a spinning elbow to the sternum.
Her foot slid back to stay upright, but her smirk didn't leave. "That all you got?"
I didn't answer.
I blurred in again, weaving between her punches, watching her movements unravel like threads through my eyes. She aimed a punch at my chin, predicted. I stepped to the side and planted my fist into her shoulder. She fired a counter, I ducked it, hit her ribs again. And again.
She kept moving, kept swinging.
She wouldn't go down.
And somehow, that only made my blood run hotter.
I swept in low, pivoting on one foot, the other snapping up toward her midsection.
Naruko caught it, hands locking around my ankle.
But she wasn't fast enough.
Before she could tighten her grip, I twisted, my hips swinging around with the momentum, and brought my other foot crashing into her chest like a battering ram.
The hit landed clean. She let out a startled gasp, eyes wide, and the force sent her flying back.
She hit the dirt outside the ring with a thud and a bounce, rolling once before coming to a stop on her back, blinking up at the sky.
"Point to Sasuke," Mizuki called, voice barely audible under the ringing in my ears.
I lowered my leg, breathing controlled and steady despite the rush of exertion. My Sharingan slowly dulled, fading back to black.
Naruko groaned, then sat up, brushing dust off her face, hair a wild mess of gold and grass.
She looked up at me, eyes shining despite the hit, and grinned happily.
I didn't smile back. I just stepped to the edge of the ring, hand extended to her.
She slapped her palm into mine and let me pull her to her feet. Her grip was strong, as strong as mine and I tried to keep that thought from becoming a negative one.
"I'll win the next one, -ttebayo." She vowed, sticking her tongue out at me slightly and smiling, her teeth barely visible with her tongue still out.
The smile and the gleam in her eyes chased away the thoughts, and I managed to return the smile.
"I'm going to prove you a liar." I said, engaging in the impulsive thought and I poked her nose, making her scowl.
I then reset my stance, eyes flaring crimson as we clashed once again.
xRSxxRSxxRSx
Ichiraku was quiet tonight, quieter than usual, at least. There were only a few patrons inside the stand, and the air smelled like freshly cooked noodles and soy sauce. Steam drifted up in slow ribbons from the bowls in front of us. I sat beside Naruko, our shoulders brushing now and then when she leaned too far in excitement or to wave her chopsticks for emphasis.
She slurped loudly and thumped her half-empty bowl on the counter. "What's his deal, seriously?" she asked, her voice booming like she forgot that there were other people nearby. "Neji, I mean. Every time I talk to him, he acts like I'm some kind of idiot who doesn't know how the world works."
I took a slower bite, feeling the noodles hit my tongue. Naruko was still glaring down at her broth, her blue eyes narrowed. There was a faint bit of miso stuck to her lip, and I had no idea how she hadn't noticed yet.
I chewed, swallowed, and leaned back slightly on my stool. "I know why he acts like that," I said, keeping my tone even.
She turned to me immediately, eyes wide and expectant. "Well? Spill."
I gave a short, dry laugh and shook my head. "It's not my story to tell."
Naruko blinked, brows furrowing. "Seriously?" she huffed. "Then why bring it up at all, teme?"
"Because I figured you'd ask." I took another bite, letting the silence stretch for a second or two. "And because I thought you'd understand."
She stiffened beside me, clearly not expecting that. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I didn't look at her right away. I just focused on the bowl, stirring the noodles absently with my chopsticks. "It means I wouldn't want you going around sharing stuff about me I didn't give you permission to. Stuff that's not really anyone else's business."
"Yeah, but—" she started, and I cut her off before she could dig herself deeper.
"You don't like it when people call you a stupid orphan."
Her mouth snapped shut.
The words lingered in the air, and I didn't regret saying them, though I didn't enjoy watching her flinch slightly, either. She stared at her bowl now, lips pressed tight, the earlier spark of annoyance gone. Her fingers tightened around her chopsticks. Not like she was angry. More like she was grounding herself.
I gave her a moment.
When she finally spoke, her voice was lower. "That's different."
"Is it?" I turned toward her now, fully. "It's something personal. Something that pisses you off when people bring it up like it's casual."
She shifted again, hunched slightly, like her oversized orange coat wasn't enough to shield her from the words. "Yeah," she muttered. "Okay. I get it."
I nodded. "Neji's got stuff like that. Only it's tied into his entire clan, not just him."
She let out a long breath. "Figures. Stupid clans with stupid secrets." She paused. "Yours too?"
I looked away. "Obviously."
She frowned but didn't push. Probably because she'd tried before and knew I'd shut it down fast. And maybe because deep down, she got it. She didn't have a clan, but she knew what it was like to carry around things you didn't want exposed. Secrets were sometimes the only thing that felt like yours.
After a long silence, Naruko went back to slurping her ramen. The mood had shifted, but not in a bad way. It was quieter now, more thoughtful. She finished her second bowl and pushed it aside, letting her arms hang off the counter lazily.
I finished mine at a more reasonable pace, then paid for us both before she could protest. She glared at me, of course, but it was half-hearted.
"You know I'm gonna get you back for that, right?" she muttered as we stepped out into the cool night air.
I rolled my eyes. "Sure."
"No, seriously." She jabbed a finger at my chest. "One of these days, you're gonna find all your rice swapped for extra spicy pickled radish, and it'll be my doing."
"I'll call it karma," I muttered.
She barked out a laugh at that, bright and sudden. The kind of laugh that cracked through the quiet like lightning. She looked up at the sky afterward, lips still curved.
"I'm still gonna kick Neji's butt one of these days," she said eventually, hands behind her head now as we walked. "Just to wipe that smug look off his face."
I gave her a side-glance. "You'll probably have to hit harder than you did earlier today."
She gasped. "Excuse you!"
I let a smirk curl on my face. "You hit like a civilian."
"What?"
"You heard me."
She shoved me, and I let it slide. Her strength was low-key unsettling if I actually thought about it. Not enough to move me much in this specific case, but it wasn't nothing either.
For a second, we walked in silence again.
"You know," she said suddenly, almost casually. "You get weird when I'm hurt."
I blinked.
That… can she read me that easily? Of course she can, idiot savant that is practically living with me. Of course she can.
I didn't reply.
"You get weird about it," she said again. "Like… twitchy. I'm not made of glass, you know."
"I know that."
"Then what gives?"
The wind blew past us, lifting a few strands of her hair, sending a dry leaf skittering across the path. I kept walking, hands in my pockets. "It's nothing."
She gave me a skeptical look.
I glanced at her. "I don't like seeing my friends get hurt. That's all."
She didn't say anything for a bit. Just walked beside me, steps a little slower now. "Huh. Friends, huh? Not best friend?"
I sighed. "Yes, best friends. You're a pain, you know that?"
She looked off into the distance, her smile softer now. "Thanks, I guess."
We reached the fork in the road near her apartment first. She didn't immediately veer off, though. She just stood there for a second.
"You gonna walk me home, or what?" she asked with a grin.
I sighed, but turned with her. "You're just going to tell me to head to mine so you can sleep on the couch again."
"Yeah, but I figured since you're in such a good mood, you might as well keep the act going."
We kept walking. The moon was out now, half-shrouded behind some clouds. I glanced over at her again and found her looking forward, the smile still faintly there.
Neji had his reasons. I had mine. And maybe Naruko, loud and stupid and too stubborn for her own good, had started to realize there was more to people than what they let show on the surface.
Maybe.
But for now, we walked in silence, the kind that didn't need to be broken.
xRSxxRSxxRSx
The electives had finally evened out into a rhythm, each week a balance of lectures, a few strategy tests meant hands-on practice, and moments where I was either satisfied or completely irritated with my progress. The genjutsu training with Kurenai had started focusing more on fine control of layered illusions, more subtle manipulations of sensory input, not just brute-forcing a fake image into someone's mind. I was still ahead of the pack, though Ino and Sakura were catching up faster than I liked to admit.
Iryo-ninjutsu had gotten more tedious. Kabuto had been a serious taskmaster the past two sessions, and Shikamaru once again scares the hell out of me in the strategy classes because he always wins.
As for Naruko, well, she had taken to fuinjutsu with alarming ease and the scary progress she had maintained for roughly the last year continued. She talked about it almost constantly now, to the point where I had to actively shut her down sometimes if I wanted to get anything done.
But it was hard to deny the results.
It was between classes, late in the day, when she finally brought it up. We were walking the road that ran between the administration building and the academy, cutting through one of the smaller parks. I had a book in my hand, one of the older genjutsu theory manuals Kakashi had tossed at me last week, and I was currently using my Sharingan to read, and she was eating a dango stick and barely paying attention to where she stepped.
"Hey," she said between bites. "Shikamaru's dad invited me to one of those Akimichi barbeques. They do 'em every month or so, apparently."
I assume she meant Shikamaru extended the invitation on behalf of his dad, but I wasn't going to split hairs and derail her thinking, no matter how amusing it was to do.
I didn't look up from the page. "Today?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
She ignored the flatness in my tone. "And Choji's dad said I could bring someone. Said it's good bonding and that I'm part of the group now." She nudged me with her elbow, hard enough to make me shift my footing. "You should come. I know you don't like crowds, but I bet there'll be food even you'd like."
I sighed, then flipped the page. "Not crowds, I just don't like them pitying me. Not interested."
There was a beat of silence before she shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm still going. Ino's gonna be there too, and she said she'd bring those weird fruity drinks she likes."
I nodded absently, already losing the thread of the conversation as my eyes scanned the lines of script. But once she walked ahead of me a few paces and I saw her silhouette caught in the late afternoon sunlight, I felt something twist behind my ribs. She was already waving to someone across the street and smiling. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
I didn't say anything when she left, just gave her a half-wave and turned back the way we'd come.
The house felt empty when I got back.
Naruko had become a permanent fixture there lately, half because of training, half because she simply didn't like being alone in her own apartment. I didn't mind her being around, even if she was loud, irritating, and had a bad habit of leaving scrolls and explosive tag paper lying around. At least it meant someone else was breathing in the space.
With her gone, the quiet was deafening.
I set the book down on the table, stared at the blank corner of the room where she usually left her coat and sandals, then turned on my heel and walked out the door.
The sun was almost down by the time I reached Training Field Three. The trees were rustling in the breeze, the usual background hum of insects filling the space between my thoughts. The grass crunched under my feet as I walked to the middle of the field and unsealed the weighted bands from my scroll, affixing them to my wrists and ankles with practiced movements.
If I wasn't going to socialize, I'd train.
That was how it always worked, right? If I couldn't fill the silence with voices, I'd fill it with motion.
I started slow, just stretches and some limbering exercises. Then moved to quick punches and footwork drills. The cold air bit at my skin, but I didn't stop. I didn't want to. I needed my body to feel something because my head was starting to feel too heavy.
The first signs of sweat beading on my forehead felt like a relief.
I moved into a kata I'd been refining with Kakashi the past few days, combining high-speed taijutsu movement with chakra control bursts, short, explosive dashes meant to simulate Shunshin precision but on a much smaller level. My Sharingan activated mid-combo, the world shifting as my perception sharpened. I saw the exact arc of my foot's rotation, the lean of my torso, the imperfect follow-through of my backhand.
It wasn't perfect. But it was getting closer.
I kept going until the sky turned dark enough that the stars began to show faintly through the gaps in the trees. And only then, when my arms were burning and my legs felt like stone, did I finally stop, breathing hard and still unsatisfied.
Naruko would've made a joke about me overworking myself. Probably said something dumb.
She was probably laughing right now. Probably smiling like she always did, mouth wide, eyes squinted, like the world didn't know how to break her anymore.
I sat down in the grass, leaned back on my hands, and stared up at the sky.
The ache behind my ribs hadn't gone away.
xRSxxRSxxRSx
Kakashi watched from the tree line, one leg bent comfortably against the branch, back leaning against the trunk, arms folded loose. Below, Sasuke moved like a blade, fast and honed but still raw in some ways that weren't obvious unless you'd seen it before. The kid was alone. Again.
Not surprising, really.
The grass bore the signs of his passage, flattened patches, scorch marks, and the shallow furrows of countless heel-pivots. The latest round of high-speed taijutsu ended with a chakra burst that snapped across the clearing. Sloppy edge. Still too much wasted force. But he was improving.
Kakashi adjusted slightly, careful of the dull ache that ran down his side. The medic-nin had been clear, no missions, no field drills, nothing that risked reopening the sutures for at least three more weeks. So here he was. Grounded. Not that he really minded it, given the timing.
He looked down at Sasuke again, who had transitioned into rapidfire Shunshin strikes, one after the other with barely a second between.
Kakashi tilted his head, watching.
The kid was channeling something. Not just energy, but whatever sat just under the skin. Restlessness, maybe. Or something heavier.
Kakashi had seen it before. Lived it before. He knew the shape of self-isolation that didn't come from a desire to be alone, but from believing no one else could understand. Or worse, that understanding would make no difference.
And yet… watching him now, Kakashi felt something else stir under the quiet pity.
Relief.
Not much longer now.
Sarutobi had confirmed it earlier that week, Team 7 was already being finalized. Once the exams were over and graduation was official, Kakashi would take Sasuke and Naruko under his wing, as planned. They'd passed his unspoken test months ago, and they'd only grown since.
Soon, watching from a distance wouldn't be necessary.
He could finally step in. Teach them properly. Guide them. And, hopefully, keep them from falling into the same holes he'd never crawled out of himself.
Another impact shook the clearing. Sasuke struck the ground with a chakra-laced palm, dirt lifting in a tight blast. Efficient, if a little overkill.
Kakashi leaned forward just slightly, enough to see better through the thinning canopy. His ribs ached in protest, but he ignored it.
Sasuke slowed at last, chest rising and falling, hands resting on his knees. The kind of exhaustion that came from pushing to the edge but not over. A quiet form of discipline, even if it came from the wrong place.
Kakashi didn't feel bad for watching from the shadows. But he did feel a little bad that Sasuke never looked up. Never checked if someone might be there. Never seemed to care either way.
Still.
He wouldn't be in the shadows much longer.
He reached into his vest and pulled out his book, Icha Icha Tactics, bent at the spine, pages dog-eared from the last hospital stay, but didn't flip it open.
Just held it.
And kept watching.
xRSxxRSxxRSx
Naruko walked half a step ahead of me, her arms crossed tightly over her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.
"I don't know, Sasuke," she muttered for the third time, not looking back at me. "What if I mess up the theory again? I almost failed last time."
"You didn't," I said, hands in my pockets. "You passed with flying colors except for the written part barely. You'll do it again."
"That's not exactly reassuring, -ttebayo," she huffed.
"It's not meant to be," I replied. "It's just the truth. You'll barely scrape by on the written, maybe. But you're solid on everything else. Sparring, weapon drills, jutsu demonstration, you'll crush it."
She didn't say anything to that, but I could see her shoulder tense for a moment before she exhaled. Still fidgeting, though. Her fingers kept twitching at her sides, like she wanted to punch something just to get the nerves out.
We turned onto the main street leading up to the academy. A few other students were ahead of us, moving in small clumps. Some looked nervous, others were acting too confident for it to be real. Everyone was feeling it today.
"I'll be fine," she said after a moment, more like she was trying to convince herself than me.
"Yeah," I answered simply. "You will."
We reached the steps of the academy just as the sun broke fully over the rooftops. The building looked the same as always, plain, a little worn, and completely indifferent to the nerves of every kid walking through its doors today.
Lee was already there, stretching in front of the entrance like he was preparing for a full-on tournament. He had one leg pulled behind his back, the other knee bent deep, and his arms moving in wide, fluid motions like he was warming up for a sprint. The second he saw us, he brightened.
"Good morning, Sasuke! Naruko!" he called, all energy and full volume, as usual.
"Hey, Lee!" Naruko grinned, instantly forgetting whatever nerves she'd been chewing on. She jogged up to him, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. "You look like you're about to try out for the Fire Daimyo's guard or something."
Lee beamed. "We must always treat every challenge with the utmost seriousness! Youth demands it!"
I nodded once in greeting, more subdued. "You ready?"
"Absolutely," he said, fists clenched at his sides. "I will do my best today, and so will both of you!"
Naruko laughed again, her earlier tension completely wiped from her face now. I let my eyes drift across the courtyard, scanning the other students milling around.
Neji was off to the side near one of the benches, seated with his back straight and arms loosely crossed. He didn't look up, didn't fidget, didn't speak. Just sat there calm and still, like this was another day of sparring or meditation.
He felt me looking and raised his gaze just slightly. We locked eyes for a second. His face gave away nothing, but I could read the readiness in the way he held himself.
He was going to take this seriously.
So was I.
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