They pass the exams with flying colors.
Itachi ultimately wins the tournament, as expected of the Uchiha genius. He is a prodigy, after all, and a future clan head. Once the smoke clears from the stadium, the audience gasps at the sight of him.
He is ten years old, and he stands tall among the debris, still unscathed. It was a battle of genjutsu between him and another Uchiha, three minutes of standing still among the rubble left behind by other fights. Karasu Ren observes from above, and he has to admit… if it was up to him, he'd make the boy a jounin.
Shisui comes third. But not really, and everyone knows it. He could have won that match with the other Uchiha. He just chose not to. If there is one thing that he is serious about and adamant in, it is this:
He will not fight his cousin for something as ephemeral as a shinobi rank.
Watching his best friend stand as the final victory gives him far more satisfaction that hurling a fireball in his direction ever could.
Fuyu is, admittedly, weaker than the both of them. But Ren doesn't think that makes her any less of the rank. She was never meant for the front lines of combat, not when her teammates would do anything to protect her and not when the four clauses of the Iryo-nin code hover above her head and bind her hands behind her back. But… the fact itself that her chakra reserves and control far surpass those of the two Uchiha put together makes Ren consider her in a new light.
After her battle with a Sand shinobi, she is bed-ridden in the hospital for two weeks. Karasu Ren visits her on her first night there with a bowl of steaming miso ramen and a flower in his hand, but she is still asleep. He disappears with a pop because he doesn't want the click of the door to wake her up, and when the sun rises seven hours later, she is met with the smell of cold miso and the sight of a lotus flower at her bedside.
It is a symbol of strength, wisdom and beauty. It's not a human touch—Shisui and Itachi are both at a clan ceremony, and Karasu-sensei is probably brooding—but it is enough.
She couldn't have asked for more, really.