Being a genin wasn't so bad. He could sleep in a little later than he did as an Academy student, yet still managed to briefly see his parents downstairs before they parted ways to do their separate jobs. It didn't even matter that most of his missions were menial tasks; he felt like he was contributing instead of only taking up space.
Now his family took turns fixing breakfast, meaning Fugaku woke up an hour early every three days to be a good son and give Sarani and Kazusa a chance to take it easy in the morning and wake up to a prepared (albeit quick) meal. The Konohagakure Military Police Force was responsible for very important work and Fugaku acknowledged that.
It was wartime. The clan needed to be ready to fight at a moment's notice. If ever they'd have a chance of impressing the village and reminding everyone else just who their strongest shinobi clan happened to be, this would be it.
Becoming a genin also meant he was officially mature enough to attend clan meetings. As heir apparent, he enjoyed taking one of the front seats at the shrine and listen to his mother's loud, sonorous voice resonate through the walls. It was a long walk to the shrine, but there was a sense of community in those meetings. Their clan lived all over the village, but there were nothing but Uchiha faces in that room on meeting nights.
Kazusa promised Fugaku that he could keep attending the meetings and even contribute, provided he didn't do what Sanjo did and blab to the children. She'd made him swear not to do so.
Today was his father's morning to fix breakfast, which meant Fugaku couldn't sleep in and neither could Kazusa. Sarani turned the radio on when he cooked, oftentimes trying to pick up a signal from the old Fire Country capital city, or maybe the Land of Smoke. If he caught a music station from the old capital, that was preferable. A Land of Smoke station meant Fugaku would awaken to radio program melodrama. Today, he heard the sounds of enka music and his father trying to sing along.
Fugaku felt the heavy thumping of feet from his parents' room, indicating Kazusa was awake. They met in the hallway and stared each other down with half-asleep glares. Fugaku's eyes narrowed, but Kazusa didn't budge. Since she sleep-grunted at him to assert dominance, he decided it would be alright to let her use the bathroom first…even though he knew it would take forever.
Kazusa's unruly hair had a mind of its own. And yet, somehow, she managed to tame that crazy mane into a braid every day. "Can I at least use the toilet while you do your hair?" Kazusa turned on a hairdryer. Great. At least there was a bathroom downstairs.
Fugaku dressed himself and walked toward of the music, hearing his father hum along and mutter the few lyrics he knew. He didn't understand why food was such a big deal for his father, but Sarani became anxious whenever he found out his child missed a meal. "Morning."
"Good morning to you, too." Wait. Did he say it was a good one or did Sarani simply mishear him? "Your mother and I are performing a safety drill with the Hokage and his council today." That sounded a thousand times more interesting than whatever Fugaku would be doing with Mitsumi. At least the company would be nice. "Do you know what you and Mitsumi-chan are doing?" Sarani turned around, presenting his son with breakfast.
It was rice congee again, but at least he'd been proactive enough to pack his son a lunch. They'd both heard about Mikoto's bento. "No. Do you?" Oh no. When his father smiled like that, that meant–
…
"If that's what real ninjas do, then I'll stay in Academy forever," Tohru commented, poking at the barbecue. The smell of seasoned meats, hot peppers, onions, leeks, and shrimp wafted through the air. Every last whiff was enough to make the boy salivate all over again. "You spent the whole day on a paid mission to take your mother's cats to the vet?"
"No. Just one of them," Fugaku corrected. "But it was a real mission. She paid for it." And he knew why. Kumoshiro was typically a big, friendly white puffball who didn't even mind when the younger clan kids grabbed at him or carried him like a baby. However, he turned into a demon cat as soon as it dawned on him that he'd be paying the vet a visit.
Bandages covered poor Mitsumi's arms and Fugaku's ripped shirt barely constituted as a garment anymore. The animal yowled as though he were being tortured in the back room. Once it was all over and the cat was quickly shoved back into his carrier, the vet asked if Fugaku wanted the towel back. What she presented didn't even look like fabric by the time Kumoshiro finished destroying it.
"You know how animals sometimes take on the personalities of their owners?" Fugaku watched as the Utatane boy's head nodded along in understanding. "Kumoshiro's her long lost twin."
A few months ago, every graduate from Fugaku's academy class vowed to have occasional group gatherings within their circle of friends until everyone graduated and belonged to an official team. Academy student, genin: it didn't matter. So long as missions remained slow-moving, easy, and of little consequence, the genin found holes in their schedule wide enough to arrange for a weekly get-together. Each time, they'd meet at a new (preferably a restaurant), pool their funds (mostly Tohru's) together, and do something special.
Last week, Fugaku, Tohru, and Mitsumi coordinated a scavenger hunt across the village. Mitsumi used her love of cryptography and riddles to create difficult clues, Tohru bought the treasures for the hunt, and Fugaku asked Sanjo to be a good senpai and hide everything so he could compete. It felt more like a mission than some of his real ones. It had been fun, too, even though he didn't win. Neyuki had, though Mikuro accused him of using his Inuzuka nose to cheat.
Another week, they ate dinner and camped out at Neyuki's home. The original plan was to spend the whole weekend performing a wilderness survival exercise, but it quickly devolved into everyone trying to out-scare each other with horror stories. Cousin Kaede reigned supreme that day, only for her to confess to Fugaku the following Monday that she'd only made up one story. The rest, she'd "borrowed" from a book series she and Mitsumi followed.
The whole point was to build strong bonds and make sure no one was isolated. Community was important. Time and again, Sarani emphasized that to his son. Fugaku was ready to throw himself headfirst into missions and climb up the ranks, but his father wanted so desperately for him to take his time and build enough good memories to last a lifetime. If they built the foundation now, they'd still have each other as adults.
Maybe their children would be friends and carry on these gatherings as a new tradition. Or maybe, if one of them felt the sort of pain Mitsumi already experienced and lost a parent, the group could serve as a second family. They'd build each other up in care and support.
In these gatherings, he and Mitsumi regularly provided summations of their lame, crappy missions. Neyuki and Mikuro did the same, oftentimes talking smack about each other if the other one wasn't there to defend himself. It was a guarantee, though, that they'd find out inevitably, seeing as their third teammate (Kaede) couldn't keep a secret to save her life. Nawaki and Tohru sat there with eager ears, laughing along with the others despite the fact they had yet to graduate.
Kaede didn't always come, even though Mitsumi always invited her. And even though Mikuro had an open invitation and only came every once in a while, Fugaku had been exposed to him long enough to realize he'd been right in his initial assessment of that kid. He was a bigoted prick and it was all Fugaku could do to hold back from wanting to punch that smug look off his smarmy face.
"They won't make me do missions like that when I graduate," Nawaki insisted, proudly thumping his chest. "They'll throw me right into the action because they'll know I'm ready for it. After all–"
"You're the Shodaime's grandson," Mikuro interrupted, stuffing some food in Nawaki's mouth. Everyone else said it altogether. Tohru even silently mouthed his thanks for shutting Nawaki up. "We know. And until you graduate for real you're nothing but talk. So come on, you big baby. Catch up to me already."
"Or Fugaku," Tohru murmured.
A recent development for the group was Nawaki's decision to name Fugaku as his rival. While a couple of the others cringed, groaning choice words under their breath, Fugaku accepted the decision and told Nawaki he had good taste. Now if Nawaki could actually catch up to him, that'd be something else.
It was possible, though. The others laughed at Nawaki sometimes and treated him like a joke, but Fugaku had long since stopped underestimating him. Nawaki carried so much stamina and motivation. A late start did not always a bad shinobi make and Nawaki had improved by leaps and bounds once he turned this into a competition. At his core, he was every bit as competitive as Fugaku and the Uchiha boy acknowledged that.
Nawaki would catch up. It could take months or even years, but he'd do it. He was too stubborn and dedicated not to.
Tohru lifted his head to glance up at the clock and frowned. "It's getting late. If we dawdle for much longer, there won't be any sunlight left when we walk home."
"Don't worry, Tohru-kun," Mitsumi offered, scooting her chair closer. "I'll walk you home. I don't think anyone will start anything so long as you have a ninja at your side." He gave her a sheepish smile and accepted her arm when she offered it. Mikuro gave the both of them a sour look, but chose to skulk off on his own. A few minutes later, Neyuki followed suit.
This left Fugaku with only Nawaki. The Senju boy put the money on the table and brushed himself off. "Want me to walk you home?" Fugaku held out his hand for his former classmate, only for Nawaki to push his shoulder instead. "What?"
"I wanna fight," Nawaki insisted. "Think you have time for that?"
"Nawaki, please. I always beat you."
"Not tonight, you won't."
"You always say that."
"But I have a new jutsu and–"
"Stop lying. You don't. You're just going to pull out a can of pepper spray or something and run off." He called it. Judging from the annoyed expression on Nawaki's face, Fugaku knew he was right. "Sorry to spoil the 'surprise' of it all, but…come on. Let me walk you home."
That's when Nawaki shoved him. Fugaku shoved back because at ten years old, neither one of them was a fine example of maturity. Off the clock, they didn't have to act like adults. The Senju boy moved in to tackle his friend, only for Fugaku to move out of the way and snicker when Nawaki face-planted the floor.
"Didn't break your nose, did you, honorable grandson?" Nawaki shook his fist from the ground. Fugaku tapped him with his shoe before helping him up. "You're hopeless."
"You don't really think that, do you?" Nawaki stumbled back to his feet and scooted toward the door, refusing to use Fugaku for any sort of support. "Shit." His sister would wash out his mouth with soap if she heard him talk that way. Good thing she wasn't around. He opened the door, gesturing for Fugaku to leave the restaurant first. "Do you think I'm lame?"
The other kids did occasionally snicker and chuckle at Nawaki's failures and pitfalls, but Fugaku felt like he had enough sense to keep that comment to himself. It wasn't isolated to only Nawaki, though. He was convinced the others would get just as much amusement out of his own failures. "I used to," he admitted. "I don't anymore."
"Then fight me." There was a determined, yet desperate, plea in his tone. "You keep saying it's not worth your time, but I am. I'll prove it by–"
"Remember that first time we played war in the woods?" Fugaku blurted out. It had been a couple of years, but he remembered. Judging from how pale Nawaki turned, the other boy clearly remembered it too. "And I threw a real shuriken instead of a fake one?" Nawaki gingerly nodded. "And remember the time I showed you what else I could do? Before I got my headband? I want you to come at this when you're at your best. That's why I'm not going to fight an academy student."
Nawaki went quiet for a moment and glanced down. "So you won't fight me until I'm a genin?"
"Exactly." Fugaku patted Nawaki on the back and walked him further down the street. With Tsunade joining the fight, and this village in a state of immense worry, the last thing anyone needed was for Nawaki to get hurt. "So stop sulking about it and actually work on a master plan to beat me. Catch me by surprise when you finally join my rank and show me what you're really made of. Deal?"
"Okay. Deal."