.

My personality is based on who I am,

but my attitude is based on who you are.

Iruka sighed. He stared at the offending test on the desk in front of him and reclined in his chair, a cup of steaming hot tea in hand. The grade at the top was inked out in fresh red ink.

It wasn't a good grade, not even close—it was a bare pass.

It was such a nice spring day and here he was, stuck inside, grading and fretting over his students. He could have been out in the sun, grabbing a bite to eat with friends or training while the weather was agreeable instead of giving himself premature grey hairs.

He dropped the test and let it float down to land askew on top of the stack.

"Something the matter?"

Iruka looked to the other side of the teacher's lounge, locating the source of the voice.

A set of brown eyes were on him. Their owner twirled a strand of hair around her finger, the same shade of brown as her eyes.

"Ah, it's nothing to worry about, Kimi," he said, a sheepish smile on his face. "One of my students just got a poor test score, is all."

Kimi pushed aside her own impressive tower of marking and walked over to the table he was sitting at. She plucked up the test. "Kasumi Kurosawa," she read off. "Huh. She's not from a ninja family." Kimi dropped the test back onto the rest of his stack. "I was expecting one of the clan heirs, with how many of them you got, or that Uzumaki kid—why are you worried over a civilian kid's scores?"

"She's still my student," Iruka said, unable to keep all the bite from his tone. He forgot sometimes that not all of his fellow teachers bothered with the less 'important' students. "I care about all their scores."

Kimi held up her hands. "Alright, alright."

"Besides, she's under the care of a Nara, so she is from a ninja clan—she just doesn't have their name."

"Well… shouldn't it be an easy problem to fix, then? Just have her genius caretaker tutor her."

"She doesn't need tutoring, she needs motivation," Iruka muttered.

Kimi snorted. "So she's not a Nara by blood, but she is in spirit?"

"Yeah." His eyes grazed over the page again. "She's smart, I know she is. If she picked up her academic scores she'd be able to move up a grade, no problem—she's up near the top of her class in physical scores, a bit behind the Uchiha. She uses strategy when she fights, so I know she's capable of analytical thinking. Her reading comprehension is at least a year above her own age, so that's not an issue, either. Yet she barely pulls out a passing grade on her tests."

"She's bored and she doesn't care," Kimi summed up. "Does her caretaker know?"

Iruka let his head hit the back of the chair, recalling the conversation he had had with Maen Nara during Kasumi's first year. "He doesn't think it's an issue."

"Shocking."

"I don't really know what to do."

"Do nothing." Iruka looked at her and she shrugged. "You said it yourself, she still passed. It's not like there's anything academically valuable in the first three years—it's just about spreading the message of the Will of Fire and ensuring the kids get decent social skills."

"There are some important things to know."

"Like?"

"Foundational mathematics," Iruka said. "History. Basic biology."

"She's taijutsu heavy, she doesn't need the first two. She'll only need the basics of biology if she has a hyper-precise form of taijutsu, but even then, there's nothing there that she can't learn later."

Iruka sighed. As much as he wanted to shout to the rooftops that everything was worth learning, all of the material he was giving them was important, he knew from his own Academy experience that it wasn't. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right." She paused, tilting her head. "Is she the same about her kunoichi classes?"

Iruka didn't know.

He pushed his chair back and grabbed at his bag. He brought along all of his student's files so he could mark their grades as he went, but at that moment, he wanted them for a different reason. His thumb brushed over her name, midway through the stack, and he splayed her file open on the table in front of them.

Kimi snatched it up off the table. "Average grades in flower arranging, average grades in music performance—oh, excellent grades in dancing and politics," she listed off. "Artistry, too. The kid can draw a damn good profile."

Iruka took the file back from her. "Oh, huh."

"She could have a future in infiltration," Kimi said. "She seems suited to undercover work."

"Ah, no, I don't think so."

"Really? Why?"

"She uh… she's got something of an abrasive personality. A bit of a hair temper."

Kimi waved a hand. "So does Anko Mitarashi and look at how much success she's had."

Iruka's face flushed bright red. "I don't think—"

"I know, most of her mission have a seduction element to them, but hey—if the kid turns out hot, she'll be fine."

"What—I don't—that's—"

Kimi smirked, cocking a hip and placing her hand on it, her expression haughty. "You're so easily flustered, Iruka."

"You shouldn't talk about a seven-year-old like that!"

"Why not? They're gonna grow up eventually and seduction is a perfectly valid line of profession."

"No, I'm not—I don't think there's anything wrong with doing seduction work—"

"Yeah, yeah," Kimi said. "You're just proving my point with all of that stuttering."

"Go finish your work, Kimi."

Kimi turned on her heels and strut away, waving a hand over her shoulder. "Fine. I can see where I'm not wanted."

Shikamaru was roused from sleep when he heard his door crack open.

There was a brief second when light streamed in, glaring against his closed eyes. He groaned and ducked his head under his covers—he wanted to sleep. In an attempt to avoid the light, Shikamaru turned over, curled up into a ball against the wall.

He heard a muttered, "Shit."

There was the sound of a switch being flicked and the light died away; Shikamaru stayed where he was. It was warm under his covers.

He had a blanket cocoon. He liked his blanket cocoon.

Footsteps moving across his bedroom floor, a pillow being placed beside his, and somebody tugged the blanket free from where it was wrapped around his leg. The night air snuck in and he let out a whine, pawing at whoever was there.

"Hurr'up," he murmured, his words slurred.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going."

Shikamaru shifted, waking up a little—her voice sounded off.

She crawled in beside him and pressed her face into his back, wrapping her arms around his stomach. Something damp leaked through the fabric of his shirt and hit his back.

She was crying.

That realization, too, pulled his mind further into awareness.

The words of his father echoed in his ears, words that had been spoken to him nearly three years ago, after the first time Kasumi had stayed over at his house. He couldn't remember them perfectly, but the words 'hug' and 'crying girl' had stuck in his mind. He could make the connections from there.

Troublesome.

He turned and threw an arm over her, goosebumps rising up along the spot where their skin met—she was ice cold.

"You're too cold… gonna take all the warm…"

"You're so dramatic."

"Nu-uh…"

"Go back to sleep, Shika." There was a pause. She adjusted to his new position, her arms circling his chest instead of his waist, her legs curling up so that her toes were brushing against his thighs. "Drool on me and you die."

"Shuddup…"

He knew she wouldn't actually follow through with that threat, but he still made a point of pulling his pillow further down before he let himself fall back into slumber.

Just in case.

Naruto watched the events unfold a few feet away with wide eyes. "Wow… she's really cool, huh?"

Shikamaru cracked one eye open, took in the scene in front of them, and closed it again. "Yeah, I guess."

Choji wrung his hands together, his chip bag sitting empty beside him. "She's going to get in trouble," he murmured. "We should stop her."

"I'm not doing it—I don't wanna get punched," Shikamaru said.

"Naruto, you go," Choji said. "She won't punch you."

"No way! I wanna see this."

A few feet away, the boy on the ground flailed his limbs, trying to yank his arms free and kick his legs out. Kasumi had both of his wrists in her hands and was able to dodge his kicks, hopping around him. When she could manage she would take slam the sole of her foot against his shins.

Naruto couldn't make out everything she was saying, but he could catch the snippets of her words that the wind carried their way.

"Idiot… calling him a monster… you don't even… stupid… little shit…"

The school ground was empty save for their group. Everybody else had gone inside when the lunch bell sounded.

They would have gone inside, too, if it wasn't for the idiot that Kasumi was kicking senseless at that moment.

"She really shouldn't do that," Choji said. "My dad said we're supposed to use our words to solve our problems, not violence."

Naruto thought that was a funny advice from ninja—using violence to solve their problems was literally the whole point of being a ninja—but he didn't say that out loud. He knew Choji could get upset sometimes when he said the wrong stuff, which he did a lot, and he didn't like to make Choji upset, 'cause Choji was so nice, so he just kept his mouth shut.

"He swung first," Shikamaru put in. "Plus, she's not even trying."

"Eh, you think?" Naruto asked.

Shikamaru waved a hand, not even bothering to look. "I've seen her train with Maen, this is nothing."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"She's gonna get in trouble," Choji repeated. He was chewing on his fingernails in lieu of snacks. "We really should stop her."

"She might get in a bit of trouble with Iruka, but Maen won't care, so it doesn't really matter."

The kid whined as Kasumi's foot connected with his leg again. Naruto didn't get it—the kid wasn't even bleeding, what was he crying about?

"He's being a bit of a baby," Naruto said. "She's just kicking his shins, and Shika even said she's holding back. Why doesn't he just break her grip or… like… fight back?"

Shikamaru snorted. "Have you ever tried to break her grip?"

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck. "Eh, no?"

"It's hard to do," Shikamaru said. "My dad made me spar with her once... it was horrible."

Their taijutsu scores had too big of a difference for them to ever get paired up during class. Naruto had watched her fight with the other kids but he'd never sparred with her, and he hadn't ever wanted to try—she was scary.

He wasn't scared of her, as he didn't think she would ever hurt him since she liked him.

Still, watching her beat that kid up solidified the idea in his head that he had a super cool, super strong friend.

The thought brought a grin to his face.

"Kasumi!"

At the sharp words, Kasumi jumped away from the other boy and turned towards the source of the noise.

Iruka stalked past their group. He headed straight to where Kasumi stood, her shoulders squared and her hands fisted at her side, expression defiant. The boy had picked himself up off the ground and glared at the back of Kasumi's head, a couple of stray tears trailing down his face.

"Sensei!" the boy cried. "She was hitting me!"

"Yes, I saw," Iruka said. His gaze moved to Kasumi—Naruto was familiar enough with Iruka that he knew that, even without having a clear view of his face, Iruka was mad. "Explain yourself, now."

Kasumi didn't cower. "He started it," she said. "I was defending myself."

"What? No way!" the boy shouted. "She started it!"

"No, I didn't," she snapped.

"You came up to me and started yelling and me and stuff, you were threatening me—"

"Okay, no," Kasumi said. "He's lying 'cause he knows that if he tells the truth he's gonna get in trouble."

"Tell me what happened."

"Toya was calling Naruto names—said he was a monster, that he should just go and die. I told Toya to stuff it and leave. Toya hit me—"

"You were threatening me!"

"Don't interrupt her," Iruka said. "Keep going, Kasumi."

"Toya hit me and so I was just defending myself, honest."

Iruka pinched the bridge of his nose. "That looked like it went a bit past self-defence, don't you think?"

Kasumi opened her mouth to reply, paused, shut it again, and pursed her lips. Naruto liked to call that her 'thinking face'. "Yeah, it did," she answered. "He was being an idiot, though."

"You can't just hit people."

"I know, I know. Does that mean I have to apologize now? 'Cause I'm not really sorry."

Naruto saw Iruka rub at his face, a sigh leaving his lips. "Yes, Kasumi, you have to apologize."

Her mouth pulled into a scowl, her entire face morphing into an expression of distaste. "Fine," she said. She turned her head to look at Toya while the rest of her body stayed still. "I'm sorry, Toya."

Naruto saw that, behind her back where it wasn't visible to Iruka, she had her fingers crossed.

"Toya," Iruka said. "Accept her apology. Then I want you to apologize to her and Naruto."

Toya's face scrunched up like he'd taken a bite out of a lemon. "I accept your apology. I'm sorry, too," he bit out. He turned to Naruto and his expression intensified. "I'm sorry for being mean to you, Naruto."

Naruto scowled—he wasn't buying it. "Quit lying!"

Kasumi snickered but was silenced by a look from Iruka.

"Naruto," Iruka said. "You have to accept his apology."

"What, why? It's not like he means it."

"That doesn't matter—you're supposed to accept it and move on."

"He's right, Naruto," Choji whispered from beside him. "It's the right thing to do."

Naruto crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't want to do it but Iruka was giving him that look, the one that meant that there was no weaselling his way out of things.

"Eh, I accept your apology, or whatever."

Iruka turned his eyes skyward as if there was anybody up there who would actually take pity on him.

"That'll have to do, I guess. Inside, the lot of you—I'll be seeing you after class, though, Kasumi and Toya. We're going to have a talk about this, and I'll be alerting your guardians."

Sasuke hit the ground hard, his back slamming against the mat. Distantly, he heard squealing and screaming of the female variety, which he ignored on reflex.

A hand entered his line of sight and he reached up to grab it, let the owner of it haul him to his feet.

"That was a good match, Sasuke," Kasumi said, a crooked grin on her face. "You almost got me."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

He turned to where his stalkers, the ones with blonde and pink hair—he refused to use their names or refer to them as his fangirls, even in his own head, because he thought it was giving them more than they deserved—were watching the interaction. Both glared at Kasumi, who had taken to shaking out her limbs and stretching.

She favoured Sasuke with a smug look. "Round two?" she asked. "There's no way you're done already."

"As if I would be done after one fight," he said, putting his attention back on her and as he moved into position.

"Good," she said. "This is the last chance we're getting to spar this year and I wanna be able to tell Maen that I kicked your ass twice in a row."

From across the gymnasium came a cry of, "Language, Kasumi!"

"Sorry!"

"You got lucky," he told her, ignoring her exchange with Iruka.

He knew it was a lie, he was fairly certain that she knew it was a lie, but he refused to admit, out loud, that she could beat him without getting lucky.

He wouldn't do it.

She was a strong fighter, the second-best in their year, second only to him, but she had a civilian name and the Uchiha had a reputation to uphold—there was no way that a civilian born ninja could be as good as him.

"Right, sure," she said. "If that's what you need to think to keep you happy."

She cracked her knuckles and her neck.

"Shut up and fight, Kurosawa," he said.

Her grin widened. "Gladly."