---

---

It couldn't have been past dawn when Tensai roused himself out of bed to the sound of rain and faint thunder. For the past week he'd been trapped within the grounds of the Uchiha Clan's compound, and he couldn't help but feel as if he were being treated as an embarrassment; he'd heard the whispers when he was brought before his estranged grandmother and head of the clan, Chiaki. A prodigy of Tensai's caliber blind at age twelve? Rather than speak of the loss of one of their own, the influential group of Uchiha elders spoke only of how Tensai's condition brought shame to the clan as a whole, and only the most ancient amongst them whispered of the Mangekyō. For such a legendary eye to appear in such a young specimen was a preposterous notion to most, but even the most skeptical of the Uchiha's council had grown eerily silent when Tensai recollected the black flames that filled his last line of sight.

Tensai was shaken out of his thoughts when his appointed servant entered his chambers and almost immediately made to grab him as if he would fall over at any moment. He had only gotten up to go to the bathroom, apparently Akemi was sent especially early. Tensai inquired as such as his maid, or rather babysitter, began the process of bathing and clothing him, all he got for a response was some hackneyed speech about his "big day" and how he needed to look his best. Tensai certainly didn't feel comfortable with the new development of having a stranger clothe him, he supposed no child would, but no amount of stubborn outcry and attempts to do it himself would dissuade the woman from doing her job. In that she reminded him of his mother. After some time of standing still and obeying any order to raise an arm or other such trivialities of getting dressed, Tensai allowed himself a sarcastic "How do I look?" he didn't know what possessed him to ask such a meaningless question, perhaps he hadn't entirely lost his sense of humor, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

"Like a proud scion of the Uchiha clan." the boy couldn't tell if his companion was sincere or joking, but whatever semblance of a smirk he felt on his face disappeared at that moment. Of course, that's all he was to his fellow Uchiha now, a trophy to be paraded around. Truthfully he wasn't even sure why his clanmates were allowing him to go through with remaining a shinobi, the prospect of transplantation was raised during his initial questioning, but he had almost hysterically refused, the technology of surgery was still a recent development of the shinobi world, and he had no desire to become the first case of a ninja getting his eyes ripped out of his head.

The rest of Tensai's monotonous preparation went by in relative silence, he had his breakfast of eggs over rice and within minutes, he was handed a parasol. He heard his newfound companion slide open the front door and reach for his hand. He pulled back from the physical contact and presumably pouted, judging by the audible sigh that he was met with.

"I'm supposed to escort you to the-"

"I've been going to the Academy for six years. I know how to get there."

A short argument ensued, mostly with Akemi pointing out that Tensai didn't know how to get there from the clan's compound and that the roads would be wet from the rain and so on, but Tensai refused to relent from his position, insisting that if he was supposed to be a shinobi he'd have to learn how to navigate without a personal chaperone. Seeing how he wasn't going to see reason, Akemi gave the young Uchiha what was quickly becoming a trademark sigh and moved away from the doorway, bowing her head as Tensai made his way out of the home with enough confidence to immediately lose his footing when stepping off the slightly elevated platform, though he caught himself and made a mental note to feel for railings whenever he came across a stairway.

---

It'd taken Tensai a noticeable amount of time to get from his home to the compound's entrance to the main road of the village to where he now stood on the outskirts of the academy grounds. He assumed it had been between an hour or two. Much longer than it'd take an ordinary student to get there considering just how close the clan's compound was to the location in question compared to anyone else's. No matter, he'd gotten there and, presumably, arrived before any of his classmates. Waking up at Sage knows what hour just so none of your friends see you fumbling around walking to school was going to be more annoying that he anticipated. Though he had gathered his stride the closer he got to the familiar setting, seeing as it became easier and easier to navigate when you knew the place like the back of your hand.

What was not easy to navigate, however, was when Tensai accidentally walked off the edge of a small hill where a bridge was supposed to be. What followed was a spewing of what counts as curse words to eleven year olds and a bunch of flailing as Tensai found himself going face first into one of the rivers that ran through the Hidden Leaf Village. He lost his parasol in the ensuing chaos and, like many people who find themselves shocked, forgot how to swim for roughly five seconds. When his senses returned to him he frantically propelled himself towards solid ground before the stream claimed him.

He was too busy coughing up water and muttering under his breath when he was shocked back to attention by the sound of the all too familiar voice of his academy instructor, who'd apparently walked upon him no doubt looking like an imbecile. Frickin' ninja stealth.

"Toshiro-Sensei!"

Tensai turned himself around fast enough to give an ordinary child whiplash and attempted a half hearted laugh before reaching his right arm outwards to probe for the end of the bridge he hoped he hadn't missed by a mile.

"Lost my footing. Dang wet ground, am I right?"

“You should probably get out of the storm.” The elder shinobi commented, a small semblance of his own wariness leaving him in a sigh. “I was about to open up the academy and pin the results of the exams when I heard your... arrival. ”

Tensai had taken the liberty of, thankfully, locating the bridge he'd just missed and began making his way across at an adequate pace before responding, thanking his stars that it hadn't been one of his classmates that found him.

"Well then it looks like I got here just in time!" Tensai hoped to himself that his sensei would end it there and they could just make their way back to the academy before he found a way to embarrass himself again.

"Need any help opening up?"

There was a hesitation in his sensei’s voice, like he knew. “I believe opening the door is as simple as ever.”

---

---

Kodo woke, as was his routine, at the crack of dawn. To say that he woke with the call of a rooster would be both untrue about roosters -- who usually preferred to crow all night and day, sunrise or not -- and the Iburi, who would sooner fall on their swords en masse than allow such unwashed creatures into their carefully manicured, walled-off compund. All the same, Kodo awoke at dawn, emerging from the grip of sleep and into consciousness just early enough to witness the final moments of blue-grey night secede into daybreak's pale yellow. Thunder softly rolled in the distance, and this along with the chill in the air and the soft pitter-patter of rain on the roof shingles informed him of the day's persistent grey weather.

Dawn was the time Kodo was his most natural self, if that meant his least monklike. His white hair resembled a pale tumbleweed more than anything, while his clothes had become disheveled and loose. This was not the steelfaced monk his peers had come to know, but a shaggy-haired boy of thirteen, rubbing sand from his eyes and ascertaining his day's schedule. Most immediately, he thought, it was raining. His mother's hearth would require firewood and the means for it to be lit before he left, and so it was then and there that Kodo decided his morning would be rushed. Or at least, rushed for his standards.

Kodo rolled to his side and heaved himself off of the floor, standing up, turning, and bowing his head to the humble sage shrine at the southernmost corner of the room. In lieu of a statue or carving, Kodo's shrine had only a poster depiction of the sage tacked carefully to the wall at each corner, above a short, wide drawer. He walked over to it, wincing on the cold tiles of the floor as he left his mat, and opened the drawer's single door, procuring a matchbox and a stick of incense. He opened the box, striking a match on its side and lighting the incense, carefully waving it in the air so as to extinguish it. He recalled the words of Elder Hachi, who taught him the importance of waving incense to extinguish its fire, as opposed to blowing on it and insulting the sage with one's breath. Kodo bowed his head once more and placed the incense in a small clay bowl before he turned to leave his room, taking the matches with him. First and foremost, his mother needed a fire.

Kodo's home was not large -- After his father's disappearance, it was the elderly clan matriarch Hideyo Iburi who decided that his mother Aina would move from the home that had been given to her nephew Satoshi, intended for a family, to a smaller two-room cottage in the compound. For Kodo, this meant that the hallway from his room had three doors; The front door, the back door, and the door immediately across his, to his mother's room. He turned left, to the back door, exiting the house to grab a quartered log from the small cord of wood leaning on the wall. He looked over his garden for a moment, ignoring the soft rain on his head and at his feet. The rain would be good for his beans, which needed a good shower, but may simultaneously drown his Taro, which had begun to yellow at the leaves. He could have found a small tent for the Taro, though this day was more important than a day for gardening. It was the day he would become a Genin, and achieve the first stepping stone on his path home to the temple.

Kodo went back into the house, wiping his feet on a small straw mat and turning left to his mother's room. She was a still protrusion on the mat, her breathing invisible under the layers of thick blankets. At the opposite end of the room was a small fireplace, not unlike a small square cave built into the wall. Kodo placed the logs in a neat stack, gathering together some of the unburned tinder within the cinders of the fireplace together and lighting the pile with a match. He stoked the fire carefully with short breathes, until satisfiedly standing up and turning to his sleeping mother once more. At the table by her bedside was a small piece of parchment, which had not been there before. He and his mother would communicate back and forth through notes at times if he could not be around during her short hours of wakefulness, and this was one such note. He quietly paced to the table and picked it up, squinting to read his mother's feint handwriting in the light of the fireplace.

Congratulations on your first day as a Genin!
I am so proud of you, son.
I will brew us a congratulatory pot of tea when you come home.
Love, Mom

Kodo smiled, and tucked the paper into his shirt.

His morning routine started with grooming -- Gathering water from the short iron pump in the garden, and carrying it back to the warm comfort of his home from the crisp morning air with a measured patience, carefully making sure that the water did not spill even in the rain. He walked slower to the door than he was capable of going, though that was in many ways the point of his lessons as a young monk. To expose yourself to the elements for a few moments longer to keep your bathing water unspilled was precisely the sort of lesson ingrained in Kodo's mind as a boy.

He brought the bucket to the fireplace in his room, procuring an additional log from the cord on his way in and lighting it once more, placing the metal bucket to hang on a metal rod in the hearth. While waiting for the water to warm up, he was brought to the next part of his "rushed" morning; Prayer. Kodo sat cross-legged on his mat, arching his back straight and cupping his hands together, faced towards his shrine. He sat in this meditative posture for some moments before beginning his morning prayers in earnest. He would pray for his mother's health, and then pray for the health of the elders back at the temple. He would pray for peace throughout the nations, bountiful crops in each farm, and for the souls of all those who died the previous night. He would pray for each of the classmates whose names he knew, and then each of the Jonin. He would pray for the rabbit who frequented his garden, for the noodle vendor who would wave to him in the morning, and for the monks he fondly remembered. Then, he would pray for himself. By then, his bathwater had reached a reasonable temperature. He stood up, bowing to the shrine again and walking once more to the drawer, bringing back the matchbox and procuring a small razor.

Kodo left the door approximately an hour after waking up, having started a fire for his mother, prayed, taken a bath, shaved, exercised, and dressed himself. He wore the most formal of his clothes -- a grey-on-white geta and pair of slacks -- and left the Iburi compound before most of its inhabitants had awoken. Though the compound was a fair walk from the academy grounds, Kodo rarely walked there. Instead, he arrived early enough to be one of the first in attending, apparating from a cloud of thin gray smoke in front of the academy walls. He preferred to not enter buildings in his smoke form, as it seemed to him an unspoken breach of privacy.

---

---

Shunpei’s day had started off with a drastic deviation from the expected norm: he had woken up far earlier than anyone would have reasonably expected. The fact that this particular divergence had occurred on the precipice of dramatic change was no coincidence; the young Hatake had been awaiting this for what had seemed like ages - much like how he had also been laying in his futon for what had seemed like ages.

The reason for this was, of course, based largely on flawed premises as prepubescent preconceptions tend to be. In Shunpei’s mind, it was a simple A to B: the graduation was tomorrow, so if he woke up earlier, he would experience tomorrow earlier. Logic then followed that waking up early would allow him to reap the rewards earlier. Which, to his credit, would have been true had the graduation been loosely scheduled around individual appearances. But it wasn’t; it was a strictly scheduled group event.

Hence why earlier Shunpei had been urged by his mother to arrive at a more reasonable time in order to avoid bothering his uncle - who had no doubt been busy making the preparations for what was to be his and his classmates’ greatest achievement up to this point - or waking up half the village’s civilian population with his triumphant exclamations. It was also why Shunpei had been falling in and out of sleep since before dawn, finally settling upon the wakefulness that had captured him for the past while.

But at this point the initial high of waking up early on such an exciting day had long since faded from his young body, having since been replaced by a reflective stillness as pervasive as the dank greyness outside. Wakefulness, though it granted him a degree of initiative, was little comfort as his mind began to feed his anxiousness.

At that moment, Shunpei shot up in his bed and stared out the window. What time was it anyway? Between the rain, the fog, and the clouds it was hard to tell how high the sun was - or if it was up in the first place. He entertained the idea of leaving now - just to make sure that he didn’t arrive late and disappoint everyone by holding up the ceremonies - and began getting out of bed to dress up.

“Good morning again, Shuuchan.”

To his side, an unexpected voice cut through the rhythmic pitter patter of droplets upon the roof like a kunai through flesh, sending shivers down the young boy’s spine and causing a brief, quiet yelp to escape from the boy’s mouth. Though he was largely resistant to the surprise of his mother’s often very sudden appearances after a lifetime of exposure, she still had a way of showing up when he’d least expected. It was the same for most of the clan, really. Being startled by his mom was something of a clan mainstay at this point despite all attempts at remedying it; apparently old habits died hard for the woman who’d used to be one of the village’s preeminent infiltrators.

“Breakfast is almost ready.” Stifling a chuckle and smiling softly at her son, the white haired woman continued, “You should start getting dressed; you wouldn’t want to have put in all that effort waking up early only to miss out on your graduation.”

Having quickly recovered from the initial shock, Shunpei nodded over his shoulder. “Right!” he exclaimed, bending down to start tidying up his messy futon as his mother soundlessly glided out of the room. A wide grin grew on his face as he made quick work of cleaning, spurred on by the fact that all he had been waiting for was rapidly approaching.

Once he had finished tidying up his room, he began gussying up for the event. Fortunately, his mother had set out a fresh bucket of warm water for him to use beforehand; he wouldn’t have to run out into the rain and take the time to prepare it all himself. But unfortunately, the back of his head was still as untamably soft as ever. Even after finishing his bath, there was little he could do about it but shrug, having long accepted the prominent, disobedient swirl of hair at the top of his head as a simple fact of life.

Now all he had to do was decide what to wear; after all, today was special, so clearly he’d have to dress specially. After a brief perusal of his closet, he came to a realization: would he be doing anything else today? It would be impractical to dress in something super formal (not that he had anything that could qualify as “super formal” in the first place) if the genin teams were expected to do genin things, but he couldn’t just show up in his usual clothes - this was supposed to be special. In the end, he settled on a hybridized wardrobe: a provincial attempt at formal wear paired with his usual ninja accessories, namely his armguards, tool kits, and a kerchief around his neck.

With all his personal preparations complete and the scent of cooking food overwhelming the petrichor in the air, Shunpei went to the dining room of the spacious farmhouse for breakfast. Much to his delight, placed upon the low-set four-person table was a large bowl of fresh-made oyakodon waiting for him.

The boy took a seat cross-legged on the cushion before it and, while rocking impatiently back and forth in his seat, waited for his mother to sit alongside him. Even if he had somewhere important to be and even if oyakodon was his second favorite dish (the first was, of course, tempura, but that was hardly something fit for breakfast at all, let alone a shinobi’s breakfast), he had to wait. He’d feel absolutely terrible if he didn’t wait. She’d gone through all this trouble just for him, after all; the least he could do was partake in it alongside her. Luckily she didn’t take long, and the two quickly got down to business with clasped hands, a bow, and the declaration of “Itadakimasu!”

After his first few bites, Shunpei glanced to his left, at his mom and her bowl of miso soup - which, it should be noted, was still proportionally more full than his own oyakodon. Despite the great quantity of food that she’d prepare for Shunpei and the rest of the family, she herself didn’t seem have much of an appetite for anything. But she was still healthy, if a bit diminished, but that was okay. That was how it had always been by Shunpei’s reckoning; for as long as he could remember, the woman known as Hatake Yumitsu had always had a sort of lethargy underlining her lively nature.

But during these past few days it had grown worse. Though still as doting and industrious as ever, his mother become far less energetic and far more agitated. There were dark, visible circles beneath her eyes now, and most worrying of all, she didn’t smile as wide as she’d used to. He didn’t know why and he wanted to, but any attempts at asking anyone about it received only vagaries, either out of ignorance or intent. Not knowing the whole picture was really frustrating, but even worse was the fact it meant he couldn’t do anything about it.

Shunpei had figured it had something to do with the ghosts. Years ago he’d asked Grandpa Taizan why his mom stopped being a ninja, and was told that it was because she was haunted by the people she met and the places she’d been. Even now, Shunpei didn’t quite understand what he’d meant by that, but it didn’t feel right to ask. Besides, ghosts were scary! He’d totally be pretty tired if he could see them at night.

Suddenly his mother’s gaze shifted away from the soup and matched his own, but only for a moment. He averted his eyes back to his dish and quickly resumed eating. “...Is everything okay?” he heard her ask.

“Don't worry mom. Everything's fine,” Shunpei sheepishly answered, taking in the finishing bites of his breakfast, “It’s just... I’m really sorry for waking you up this morning.”

“It’s alright, I was... I wad awake anyway, but it’s good that you care.” She took a final drink of her soup, and patted him on the back before giving him a smile. She then got up, and gestured for Shunpei to follow. “Anyway let’s get you to that ceremony you’ve been so excited for.”

“Good idea,” Shunpei nodded and ran ahead to the door where he started to put on his sandals. Moments later, he was fully prepared to go! ...Almost. He stood to his feet, puffed out his chest, and looked at his mom, who was waiting by the door with a large umbrella. With deep breaths and balled fists, Shunpei took a long moment to steel his nerves before making his solemn declaration.

“Sorry, but I can’t let you walk me to school anymore,” he mumbled, eyes downcast and declaration not at all as solemn as he would’ve liked, “I’m a Genin now, so I gotta do stuff like this myself from now on.”

There was silence. And then...

“I see...”

There was the sound of shifting cloth as arms wrapped around Shunpei, pulling the boy into a long, tight hug. He was soon released, and faced with his mother’s visage. She was on the verge of tears, but she had on the widest smile he’d seen in a long time. “I-I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re right,” she sniffled, “I just can't believe how fast you're growing up. _{Maybe soon you...}” She shook her head and pulled him into another, briefer hug. “Congratulations Shuuchan, I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks mom!” Shunpei beamed, “For everything! Like those cool jutsu! I couldn't have done it without you... Oh!” The boy came to an important realization. “Is dad still here too?” he asked.

Disappointingly, she shook her head. “Sorry Shuuchan. He left a while ago,” she explained, “But I’m sure he’s proud of you too.”

“Alright...” Shunpei sighed. He didn’t expect any different, but it still hurt to hear, especially since this was his special day. On the bright side, the good part about such an occurrence being commonplace was that he was able to get over it quickly. “Well... I better get going!”

However, his departure was rapidly cut short by the hand that shot out, grabbing his kerchief by the knot. “Now wait a second, young man. You might be a genin who can walk himself to school, but you still need to take the umbrella. You'll get sick otherwise,” she ordered, pressing the parasol into Shunpei’s arms. “Now you can go.”


In the end the umbrella ended up being a largely useless accessory; Shunpei’s excited running ensured that most of his body was beyond even the wide aegis of the umbrella. The only parts largely untouched by the downpour were his back, his hair and his shoulders. Fortunately for him, as he approached the Suiren bridge, it seemed that that fact was not going to change.

About halfway across the bridge, Shunpei stopped and narrowed his eyes, peering into the fog at something colorful bobbing in the water. ’Is that an umbrella in the water?’ he thought, ’Wonder what kind of weirdo throws their umbrella in the river, especially on a day like this!’ Then, shrugging off the peculiar sight, the Hatake boy continued on his way into the Academy, making sure to wipe his sandals off and shake his umbrella out before entering in order to avoid bothering his particularly anal uncle.

Unlike getting to the building, making his way to the classroom from there was as easy as it had ever been. "Hey Kodo!" Shunpei greeted as he dashed past his classmate, through the halls, and into his designated classroom - where he immediately stopped in his tracks, mind struggling to comprehend what he saw before him.

First things first, there was Kegawa. That orange hair and those crimson facial markings were unmistakable. Then there was Fukushu and her purple head, who was standing by the class rankings looking irate - at least more than usual. And there was Momomomomomomomomaru, who was busy licking-

"TENSAI!" Shunpei exclaimed, bounding down the stairs with even more alacrity than his journey to the Academy itself before practically leaping across the desk and throwing his arms over his best friend.

All things considered, the 'stay in your seat and hope nobody notices you' strategy had worked remarkably well for Tensai. That was, until Kegawa arrived on the scene and Momomaru had initiated a full scale assault on his face before he'd even had time to react. His assailant moved with lightning speed and surprising momentum, as the minuscule missile had almost barreled Tensai over and onto the ground. It was all Tensai could do to shield his face with his hands, though this proved to be less than successful.

"I surrender! Please, no more!"

Given his predicament, Tensai hadn't noticed the sound of approaching footsteps until they were practically on top of him, and by the time he turned his body to face the mysterious newcomer, he found his personal space once again violated when he was all but tackled by his other best friend and actually thrown to the ground. So much for that plan.

"Ow! I think you're breaking some of my bones, man."

"I mean, you totally deserve it. It's been ages, and that's all you've gotta say?"

Shunpei's was a sound for sore ears. It felt like years since the last time he spoke to either of them, and it brought a smile to his face to be with them again.

"Hmph. Just so you know, I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed. And hurt. And betrayed!" Shunpei added an exaggerated sniffle to his performance, and Tensai could've swore he could hear tears welling up in his friend's eyes. "I think I'm gonna cry."

However, it didn't take long for Kegawa to reinsert herself into the conversation with an energy that had become all too familiar.

"Shun-tan!"

"Hiya Kecchan!" Shunpei called back. "You want in on this too, right? It's not a dog pile without you, and besides, Tensai here hasn't experienced your righteous furry, erm, fury yet."

Kegawa laughed out loud, Shunpei's pun laden sense of humor was something that entertained them both, though Tensai was too busy trying to maneuver out of his friend's grasp to acknowledge the brilliance of the joke.

"Don't mind if I do."

With another body now on top of him and with a canine companion still nipping at his face, it was all Tensai could do give a (only slightly) exaggerated grunt of pain. He didn't know how long it took before the trio's laughter started to die down, but the silence that ensued was a quaint one, and Tensai had to recompose himself when Shunpei finally spoke out.

"So... Where've you been? What'cha been up to?"

There was a momentary pause before his next statement.

"And do you want us to get off? It's getting kinda hard to breathe..."

The latter half of Shunpei's sentence barely registered to Tensai's ears. Where was he? How does one answer such a question when they barely knew the answer? Thankfully, the other two members of his childhood trio took the liberty of standing up. He followed suit after taking a moment or so to gather his thoughts. If there were any two people he could talk to about his ordeal, Shunpei and Kegawa were certainly them. They'd been his two closest friends for as long as he could remember, siblings he'd never had as far as he was concerned. His grandmother'd probably scorn him, but he needed someone to talk to. So, clan secrecy be damned.

"I've-"

“Tensai, how does it feel to be handed everything when you failed on Ha no Kyofu bridge? How you’ve become absolutely worthless to the entire village, but you continue to be seen as this gift to the leaf?”

Tensai hadn't even gotten more than a word out of his mouth before he was not so kindly interrupted by the absolute last person he wanted to deal with. Fukushu. The Namikaze girl had been a thorn in his side he'd taken great care to ignore for the past couple years. Something she was making impossible. Did she know? Of course she knew. Fukushu knew everything. But how? Nobody was supposed to know what happened. For lack of a better term, Tensai was shocked into silence by the revelation.

He didn't know how long he stood there lost in his own thoughts. When he returned to his senses, he turned his head towards where he assumed his purple haired tormentor stood and responded to her in a harsher tone than most would've expected from him.

"Leave me alone."

Pulling himself from the disorderly heap of prepubescent body parts, Shunpei couldn’t help but think that maybe he should’ve thought this through better; now his clothes were all ruffled up and damp - a very uncomfortable combination. He began straightening out the wrinkles in his garb as best he could, trusting that time would ensure that there would be no residual wetness by the time he’d meet his jonin sensei. Which was a thing that was totally happening. Just thinking about it, the edges of the Hatake boy’s lips curved ever more upward; he could practically see all the cool things that were going to come his way...

But nevermind that! He could always bask in the hypothetical glory when that “hypothetical” became “actual”. Right now, there were more important things at hand: the resolution to a week’s worth of unsated curiosity, the answer to the question of his bestie’s peculiar behavior as of late.

Unfortunately, what was supposed to be - in Shunpei’s mind at least - a climactic revelation rapidly devolved into anticlimax. Barely a single word had been uttered by the sobered Uchiha when, from practically out of nowhere, came Namikaze Fukushu, Tensai’s self-appointed nemesis and general bearer of bad vibes, railing against him about something that happened on a bridge and, as usual, somehow being a “worthless” ninja - like she was qualified to judge people like that!

“Hey Fukushu...” the Hatake greeted with a curt wave. Even if they didn’t really get along, they were still peers; so there was no need to be impolite, especially on a celebratory day like this one. That said, Shunpei couldn’t get how someone could be so... like Fukushu all the time, but Tensai had always been a good sport about it as long as he’d known him. Which meant the fact that he wasn’t this time was telling of something very, very wrong. Tensai’s grim but clearly diminished riposte was the damning evidence.

His smile became tight-lipped. Normally Shunpei would’ve resigned himself to the role of a mere spectator so as to avoid the Namikaze’s ire and avoid escalating a situation well-in-hand, but now he had to act. Nobody was allowed to make his best friend feel like that.

Shunpei took a step forward.

Shunpei then recoiled backward to avoid the small ten-year old who had landed in front of him. (Almost on top of him, even!)

“Woah!” Shunpei exclaimed, catching himself on the desk. The Hatake quickly straightened up. Hopefully nobody saw that. “Uh. Yeah! Mornin’ to you too Rem!” he greeted sheepishly, intentionally doing his best to be loud and obvious about it. He’d planned to intervene directly, but maybe, just maybe, the arrival of a pure and noble ten year old would abate the flames of Fukushu’s rage... Or not.

Probably not; Fukushu didn’t seem like she’d be the type who cared about that kind of thing. Worth a shot.

“Sorry ‘bout this, but I can’t talk right now. Got somethin’ to do...” Shunpei apologized, slipping past Ren to position himself adjacent to the two belligerents. It was at that point that he became acutely aware of how utterly oppressive the tension between the two was. Was getting between the two a good idea?

Probably not. But he had to for Tensai’s sake.

Shunpei ran a finger along the palm of his hand and quieted his nerves with a deep breath. ’Time to work my magic...’ he thought, a wide smile plastered on his face as he stepped between the two before Fukushu could retaliate Tensai’s demand.

"Okay! I think that's enough of that, right Namikaze-san?"

Though his voice carried its usual light-hearted inflection, there was more than just a touch of gravity to his normally delicate tone and, most damningly, he'd addressed her properly this time around. It was pretty obvious to everyone that he was up to something, which was sort of the point. He wanted to grab her attention without antagonizing her too much. As effective as that latter strategy might have been for getting the heat off his friend, it was probably not good for his own health, yeah?

At any rate, now that the Hatake boy had interposed himself between the two and made his intent known, he continued, arms crossed. "Now look, I get it; you're mad at Tensai, but being mad doesn't give you the right to be mean to someone like that.” His fingers pressed hard against his ribs, drawing his own attention away from how much he wanted to not be in his position at that moment. “And besides, it’s graduation. We’re all supposed to be celebrating, having a good time, y’know? I think we all just gotta calm down, maybe Fukushu you can apologize, and then we can all just forget about this and we can all become genin on a better note. Doesn't that sound nice?"

---

So noisy. . .

As the class full of young academy graduates began to fill up, their excitable energy drew forth the silent ire of one Kiyoshi Uzumaki. The short red haired student watched with mild interest as he saw the interaction between prodigical child of the Uchiha clan and the class's resident try-hard, Fukushu Namikaze. While the words meant nothing to him, it seemed that Namikaze-san was privy to some sort of failing that affected the Uchiha boy greatly and, as was her way, used this information to try and take a jab at him for the sole purpose of making herself feel better for not getting the top of the class. The girl's petty competitive streak was more than a little ridiculous in the Uzumaki's eyes, as it didn't seem to bring her any sort of enjoyment, only the ire of almost everyone else in their class.

Kiyoshi was about to turn his attention back to his studies, only for Namikaze's callous words to draw the attention of one Shunpei Hatake. This individual brought out no small amount of conflict within Kiyoshi's mind, as while the boy tried his hardest to shut everyone around him out, the shaggy haired boy still managed to find his way past those defenses in a way the Uzumaki wasn't particularly comfortable with. As such, he felt a tinge in investment in not seeing him get verbally torn asunder by the violet haired hellion, but on the other hand, he'd done a very good job at staying out of said hellion's radar, a position he sought to keep. Getting involved in the current conflict would but an end to that real quick, and if he ended up on her team, then he'd been in for possible years of hell in dealing with her. Hell, even without confronting her, he doubted that she'd halt her tongue in telling him how pathetic a shinobi he was, with all the implications of superiority that such words would carry.

Just imagining it was more than enough to make him feel sick to his stomach, but he calmed himself with a few deep breathes. As he centered his mind, he decided to simply observe the situation as it developed and only get involved if he had too. Until then, he'd stick to trying to figure out the current mess of symbols and formulas before him, keeping a read on the situation out of the corner of his eye as he did so.

---

---

As the situation in the classroom began to slowly escalate, the possibly budding tension would be broken as the classroom door was kicked open, revealing the sodden form of one Tsume Ryuuga, who had been in such a rush to leave for Graduation as soon as she woke up that she had forgotten to bring her umbrella with her. Thus, the fiery Ryuuga came in positively drenched, and yet, even getting completely soaked in the rain wasn't enough to break down the confidant beaming smile that was present on her face. Even the rain wasn't a constant factor, as she let loose a flare of chakra that caused her clothes to instantly start drying out, causing a slight mist of steam to trail behind her as she walks/skips over to her seat. Today's the day. It's was a tough couple of years, but I'm finally taking my first step towards being a real shinobi. Soon, I'll show everyone who doubted me exactly how wrong they were.

No sooner did this thought enter her head did she spy the one person here that counted among that number: Fukushu Namikaze. Changing her course, Tsume took a seat next to the purple-haired kunochi with a smile as she leaned back in her seat, keeping her balance with one leg while the other swung off to the side.

"So, Fukushu-san, what do you think your sensei is going to be like? And don't give me anything about how you don't care, you have to be at least a tiny bit curious, right? I hope he someone cool, though still strong enough to be worth listening to, ya know?." Tsume smiled, fully expecting to receive some sort of deprecating remark from the Namikaze, probably something along the lines of how they should focus on their training instead of taking part in foolish fantasies, or something along those lines. Still, she was in a good mood today, and she wasn't about to let the leaving embodiment of cynicism that was Fukushu get her down. Besides, she seemed a bit miffed for some reason. Curious, Tsume took a moment to look around the room, eyes landing on the list that showed the ranking everyone achieved in the class.

Starting from the bottom, Tsume took a slight hit to her good mood as she saw her position as dead last in the class, but quickly shook her head, keeping her mind on the positive fact that she had made it, and that she had plenty of time to grow from here. Moving on from herself, she kept scanning the list before she finally saw the likely issue for Fukushu's fouler-than-normal mood: She wasn't first. And to put some more salt in the wound, Tensai was the one who beat her out. Yep, if anything would piss her off, that'd do it. Tsume was sure that as soon as Fukushu became aware of this fact, she likely couldn't help but try to do something to provoke Tensai, something that maybe worked considering how down the kid had looked when she had walked in. Still, she didn't know exactly what was said, and doubted that she could even get the stubborn Namikaze to even consider apologizing for whatever harsh words she had spoken. It was just the way the girl was, and trying to change that was a fruitless task, something that Tsume was very aware of after years of attempting to do just that, with nothing to show for it.

---

"GOOOOOOD MORNIN' EVERYONE! WHO'S READY TO FINALLY BECOME REAL NINJA?!" The words rang out only slightly muffled by a familiar bright red Oni mask in time with the windows bursting open from outside as Katsu Aburame jumped through them and landed on his desk. In spite of his stunt, Katsu was almost totally dry and the windows themselves were undamaged. Katsu always remembered his umbrella when it rained, after all his insects didn't like to get drenched if they could help it. It hadn't been that simple to use one of his many ninja tools to undo the latch on the window before he jumped through it, too. Proper preparation was key to a good flashy entrance after all.

Katsu pushed the windows shut with a foot, then hopped up and into his seat from ontop of it, scanning around the room. Everyone seemed to be their usual selves today, and the scores and placements in the class were about where the Aburame Genin-to-be had expected them to wind up. He grinned proudly beneath his mask as he saw his own place, just a few down from the exact middle placement! Slightly below average, in fact! It had taken a lot of careful planning to tank his performance juuuust enough to make himself forgettable without coming off as a total idiot, especially when part of him had really, honestly wanted to just give up and show off how much he knew.

Really though, who would want to be at the top of the class, fighting it out with Mr. Genius and Miss Gotta Be Perfect? Not that they're bad or anything, but like I don't have enough problems? It's like a thousand times easier to have the whole clan think I'm dumb and not trying than to put up with them pushing me to become their 'once in ten generations' miracle or whatever just 'cause some bugs thought I smelled right. Nope, a life of leisure and all the fun I can get, that's my way alright! Even if it takes everything I got!

The contradiction of having to work hard to be lazy didn't seem to occur to Katsu, for all of the thought he'd put into it.

The Sarutobi clan was bustling on the morning of Seiichi's graduation and though he would never admit it, he was very excited, nervous even. He'd hardly been able to sleep and the few winks he had gotten in he wasted with extremely early morning training. He couldn't help it. He was going to be a full fledged shinobi of Konohagakure and he would be damned if he couldn't live up to the expectations had of him. 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10km run around the compound. Seiichi had worked up quite the sweat with what should have been a small warm up routine to keep himself limber and at the ready, never wasting a moment that could be used to better himself. In truth, that likely did more harm than good. He'd been told many times, by his father even, that overwork was just as dangerous to the budding ninja as under work.

But he could never heed these warnings. He had to work harder than anybody he could and even then he usually kept himself just roughly above subpar. He was typically an average ninja at best, even if he was skilled in some techniques not typical of the average genin. He seemed tired most of the time. He studied and trained well beyond what he should and gave his body little rest to properly perform at peak efficiency. He worked well with what he had, but he could likely do much better should he give his body the rest it so needed.

He had just finished and taken a moment to sit on his bed when a servant of the clan entered his room. It was about time to get ready, a fact Seiichi knew, though he'd been giving himself some time. He wasn't sure how ready he was to face his mother and father on this big day. He knew who they weren't, and the pressure he felt didn't come from them. Even so, it took little time to dress and prepare himself for what lied ahead. In his heart, he knew he wanted most to impress his father and mother. But the words of pride and joy as of late had become stale to him. It was never good enough, no matter how often they were spoken to him. Even as he came to stand before the man he called father, the woman he called mother, and listened to their praise. He was trapped in his thoughts.

All he could hear were clan elders, lesser members, even those who weren't shinobi. His accomplishments no longer felt as such. They were expected. Any less could potentially be seen as a disappointment. Because of those words he, at times, felt like his parents weren't actually proud. Like they were saying things simply because he was their son.

"Seiichi!" His father spoke up a bit, pulling the young man from his thoughts. "Being nervous on the day of your graduation is natural. But you should relax a bit." He voice returned to a more laid back, rather lax, tone. "You'll be faced with challenges like never before."

"But your father and I have no doubt you'll make a fine shinobi." His mother chimed in.

"Push everything out of your mind." He said simply. "You've worked hard to come to this point. You're ready." Words of encouragement had become his father's forte. It was almost like the man could sense the pressure his son put on himself, even if he hadn't yet worked out how exactly such a thing could be fix. But then, he was sure the jonin his son would be assigned to could more than handle the situation.

"Yes father." Seiichi finally replied when it looked like his parents had finished speaking. He smiled. He couldn't help it, though he wasn't entirely sure he deserved such kind words. And so, without another word, he made his way out of the compound.

Met with the rain that laid before him Seiichi took a deep breath. He had an umbrella in his hand. He wasn't in much of a rush. He wouldn't be late, if he kept at his regular pace. His smile had once again formed his usual scowl and made was on his way. Was this an omen? Rain on the day of this generation of Shinobi's graduation couldn't be a good sign. Although those kinds of things weren't much his forte.

---

Seiichi arrived at the school relatively quicker than he'd expected. There weren't as many people in the way as was the usual case because of the rain, which made the trip much simpler. He was quiet as he entered, even though there seemed to be a small bit of commotion going on. He closed his umbrella and shook it off quickly as he entered the building. The young shinobi-to-be walked through the hall, opening his mouth only once to speak. "Good morning," he said to nobody in particular as he entered the room fellow classmates had seemed to gather in. He didn't interact much further than that, as was the usual case, moving from the door to take a seat almost immediately.