"Look at that, look at that, we ended up on the same team!"
“You aren’t good enough to be the progeny of the Uchiha Clan. You aren’t good enough to be anything, especially not my competition. If you want, you can serve me when I am declared heir.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx L O C A T I O N Konohagakure Academy Grounds T A G S @Sloth @Xiro Zean @Inkarnate M U S I C | This situation, from top to bottom, was nothing less than bullshit of a magnitude worthy of Kumogakure. To become a sensei was the work of the washed up; of has-beens too far past their prime, like the village's aging old guard, or of those too crippled or craven to take the fight to the enemy, like the Hatake responsible for this year's whelps. It was not a role befitting some in the prime of their life and the zenith of their power like one Uchiha Shinatobe, who stood in among her "peers" radiating a cold, scornful aura of disdain for those unfortunate enough to share space with her. It was a typical posture, not for she, who oft ran on the hotter side of the emotional spectrum, but one many of her clan's elitists donned when forced to tolerate with their lessers. It was fitting, therefore, that she emulated them. For there was no willingness on her part to take up this post. Her time was better spent, accruing the glory, fame, and fortune befitting one of her station. But the world had seen fit to deny her the comfortable stability of mission-by-mission living when her sister met with an early grave half a world away. Even in exile, Narumi had done as she always had; stolen attention that might have otherwise belonged to Shinatobe. In earlier years, that sad fact had weighed heavy on her. In years more recent, it had been a relief. Cruel as fate was, it was only after she had made peace with its absence that it would deliver her that so craved spotlight. There was no mistaking it, the timing of this assignment coinciding with her sister's funeral marked the indignity to be a work of the Uchiha clan's matriarch. 'Seems I'm finally important enough to keep safe.' She seethed, for it was only in the raucous tempest of her internal rage that her sharp tongue was kept in check. She had no affection for the Nth born daughter of a middling clan like the Sarutobi, and that contempt ensured she had as little patience for the back talk of one. The late arrival of the final sensei did little to soften her hateful ruminations. Indeed, she paid only a minimal amount of attention to the prattling of the white-haired Chunin responsible for raising these brats to whatever competence they possessed. A scoff, aimed at the assertion that the late Hokage made these decisions himself, was all his speech mustered from her. An old man's hand may have signed the documents, but it wasn't he who had conceived this disgrace upon her. When the students were divvied up like so much livestock, she at least deigned to gaze the way of those placed under her tutelage. One, with a head of familiar lavender hair, muttered a few words to another student before assuming her position beside the Uchiha. Another, to her chagrin, seemed to be a common mutt. As if she were some peasant-pup sitter. At least that one wasn't causing a fuss like some of her fellows were. It would have done Shinatobe well to pay attention to those who had sat in silence. It would have made the realization as to the identity of her team's final student less piercing. When her own name was called just before Uchiha Tensai's, her eyes snapped from where they had drifted, surveying the chaos that was her brother's spawn, and landed instead upon the scion of her departed sister. Confusion may have seized the tongue of at least one of heiress' students, but her nephew's presence on her squad—and the rage it caused to well up within her—was more than sufficient to spur Shinatobe into speech. "That cunt." She hissed, just under her breath, as her onyx orbs bore a hole he could not see through Tensai's chest, as if she meant to look through him to glare at the shadowy hand that had seen fit to tether him to her. |
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx L O C A T I O N Konohagakure Academy Grounds T A G S @Sloth @Xiro Zean @Inkarnate M U S I C | There was a long list of swears the Uchiha could have rattled off under her breath to express her frustration, but she opted to swallow them down, no matter how painful it was to do so. It wouldn't do to make herself look weak in front of her charges, and the subject of her ire was too far away to hear them in the first place. That was for the better. It would give her time to compose herself before the inevitable confrontation that would arise from this convenient alignment of fate. Instead, her daze was interrupted by the voice of one of her students. The Namikaze, whom appeared to look expectantly at Shinatobe. Rightfully so, she supposed. She was their leader from this point onward, and at least one of the other sensei had departed in a poof of smoke. "Introductory exercise. We're going to the training ranges on the village's outskirts." The heiress declared, her gaze moving from Fukushu toward Tensai. She grimaced once her eyes arrived upon him. Unlike her, he couldn't do much gazing any more, and she doubted he would be of any use in the coming trials. Why the academy—spurred on by her mother no little doubt—had allowed him to graduate at all was beyond her. It wasn't even a matter of her own biases toward him. Unable to even navigate their compound by his lonesome, it was a cruelty to force his continued participation, prodigious talent or not. But it was a cruelty that she had been selected to prop up, and so she had little choice. Unlike her ignoble peer, the raven-haired Jonin turned away from her pupils and made way for the exit at a leisurely pace, content to lead them personally rather than disappear on them so soon after becoming acquainted. "One of you lead him." She called behind her after a brief pause, sure the two girls would settle the matter without much trouble, before she disappeared out the doorway and made for their destination. |
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx L O C A T I O N Konohagakure Academy Grounds T A G S @Sloth@Raijinslayer@Grey M U S I C | For many, the day of academy graduation was a time of excitement. A rite of passage, when one passed from a mere child to a proud member of the village's military, able to represent their clan's interests and honor those who came before. It was a time to say goodbye to the regimented studies of old, to meet new comrades, and to forge boldly ahead to a hopeful future. For Mitsuko, this sanguine feeling could not be more foreign. She felt no optimism, only a clawing uncertainty in her gut, a fear born of a change in scenery she had only just begun to become secure in. The academy was a source of some comfort away from home, where she could—in a rare act of rebellion—relax some of the poise and discipline expected of her station, and savor small moments of happiness in the form of childish fun. Fun that so many of her school mates seemed so ready to throw away in favor of an encroaching adulthood. Who knew what lay ahead of her? She had only so many acquaintances who tolerated her for however long they dare, and now she was left to drift in uncertainty, whether she would be bereft of them and made to interact more intimately with a small squad of individuals chosen at seemingly random. What of her instructor? Toshiro-sensei had shown her kindness in the way of overlooking her presence. She had worked diligently to maintain that invisibility, never excelling too far in fields she could, and never falling too far behind in fields she struggled with. She had remained in the middle of the pack, unexceptional, another face in the crowd, a member of a class who nobody had reason to ever single out or notice. It fit her, as a member of the branch family, and she took solace in that comfortable anonymity that allowed her only to seek attention on her own terms. Now she could not hide among the herd, and now she would be at the mercy of a sensei personally invested in her growth. She didn't like that. Father was a hard enough master, she did not need another. It was the young Hyūga's way to withdraw into herself when her nerves became frazzled by the world, and so she sat, alone in her back seat, barraged by an internal cacophony of her own making as the names of her squad mates were called one by one. She might not have even responded, had it not been for Shunpei's voice finding her ear. He was, perhaps, the closest thing to a 'friend' she had in class. He had been kind to her from their first meeting, and respectful of her boundaries for as long as she could recall. Most of those she was acquainted with had come into her sphere of influence by virtue of the Hatake boy, who lacked not for friends himself. It was little surprise, therefore, that she had attuned herself to picking his voice out of a crowd. And his voice delivered to her a strange message. Honey... bun? What did that even mean? Some kind of nickname? A snack? Mother never let her have sweets, so she was not well versed in honey, or buns for that matter. Did he mean to imply she was sweet? Her cheeks flushed at that thought. Honey was sweet, yes, but why include the bun? She had heard others refer to their rears as 'buns' before. Did... had he meant to say her bottom was sweet? She flushed even darker with indignity at that conclusion. Kuniochi or not, she was not ready for that level of adulthood. Shaking her head as if it would somehow banish the thoughts from her head, she instead focused on what he had said before that. The same team?... Teams! Yes, teams. She had gotten so into her head that she had missed the announcement. A small mercy, it seemed, as the Gods had blessed her with enough luck to share a squad with Shunpei. It was the best possible outcome for her, for she could at least use him for comfort in the coming trials. Trials that would be quite taxing, she came to muse, as the short girl stood from her seat and followed Shunpei to their appointed sensei. Their fellow Genin, Yakushi-san, had always been loud and bombastic, and for those reasons she proved a natural antithesis to Mitsuko. A wide berth had always been given as a result. The Jonin did not lessen her apprehension. He seemed rather... odd, for how she had imagined the village's premier leaders. He was rather scruffy, lacking in the carefully maintained posture of a noble born scion that she was intimately acquainted with. The subtle slouch made him seem less the giant of a man he was by comparison to one of her own slight stature, something that may have made him more approachable to others, but all the more alien to her. She was used the pristine, stern faced members of her own kin, not one who was so at ease. Her feelings mattered little. To allow ones emotions to interfere with ones duty was unacceptable. She had already been too indulgent today. When her sensei bowed to her after lingering a touch in his gaze, she returned the gesture, but deeper and with the immaculate precision of one who had rehearsed the gesture too many times to count. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kagetsu-sensei. I am Hyūga Mitsuko." By the time she straightened, her new teacher had gestured for them to leave, and while the mention of a hospital intrigued her, she dared not to speak out of turn. Instead, she submitted herself to following after him, but only once her team mates had also chosen to do so. |