In Shadows Waiting — III

Well, uh, would you look at that.

Still here. That's… interesting. Well, if nothing else, I have to congratulate you — You made it through the prologue. I don't think I would have if I was in your shoes. Or maybe I'm just having confidence issues, I don't know.

I would love to promise a better reading experience from here on out, but I can't do that. I can promise a more organized one, though — from here on out and for a little while, we'll be following Naruto more traditionally, without jumping from places and times whenever my muse ordered me to. Which doesn't mean I don't reserve myself the right to shift perspectives if I feel I should.

If you feel a difference in the writing styles between the first scenes and the later scenes, that's intentional. If you've any thoughts on the matter, please do share them.

I, ah, hope you're enjoying yourself. I certainly am; I loved these silly little clichés when I was youngin.

Uh.

If you for some reason have any suggestions or anything, please do say so. And if you'd like me to post the rest of these, maybe say so as well? Actually, that's a pretty stupid thing to say, so pretend I didn't.

First Tome — "Resurgemus"

Chapter I — Fly on the wall

The dancing flames in the night captivated Naruto's eyes like nothing before had done. A few feet from his feet, the shards of the vial his first flammable concoction lay scattered between the blades of grass, hidden from the outside world by the trees of the forest of death. The tall foliage and vegetation that Training Ground 44 was so famous for worked wonders in the ways of camouflage, hiding his experimentation from the outside world.

His lips parted to speak, but the blond decided against it. There was something magical in watching the fire burn itself out, a frenzied festival of combustion and flickering lights. He could feel the dry heat of the flames on his face, calling him to their wavering embrace. The urge to smile was big, the urge to cry was even bigger — instead, he remained in expressionless silence for just a little longer.

Naruto Uzumaki was ten years old. In two years, if everything went right, he would be a Shinobi — graduating from the same class he had first joined, alongside both his siblings and the rest of the densest pack of clan heirs he could imagine. His graduating class would be important, one way or the other. From the heirs to Konoha's largest and most influential families to the heirs of the Fourth Hokage himself — they would most certainly be in the history books one day.

And then there was Naruto.

— Naruto was a confident child.

Okay, not really, but he played the part rather well. Bright, blond and obnoxious was the way to go for the Uzumaki, who wanted nothing more than to be noticed as himself, an individual. He was sick of being Konoha's sad story.

Not being ostracized by people who didn't share his blood was admittedly Pretty Cool, but he found that pity was hardly better.

Sensei told him once that a trained Shinobi would take advantage of the pity and of the underestimations to rise from the shadows and slit their target's throats. Naruto thought that sounded pretty cool, but even he had a limit on how dramatic he was willing to be. Murder was a bit over it.

Plus, it wouldn't do to make them hate him. After all —

One day, Naruto Uzumaki would be remembered as the best Hokage ever. Compared to him, the Fourth Hokage would be nothing but a shadow.

That was more than just a child's dream — it was a promise. And all Naruto had to his name was the weight of his promises. Well, that and the newly named "Explodofire Potion". The name was still under construction, but he felt it sounded pretty cool.

It was about as hard to make as an Exploding Tag would be for an adept at Fūinjutsu, but its actual effects were more akin to those of a Molotov or something similar; the fire would spread as if everything around it was coated in a thick layer of oil. An 'effective weapon', Sensei had called it, 'if lacking in subtlety.' And he was right, as always, but Naruto had hardly been aiming for subtlety in the first place.

Coming up with new recipes was hard work, and neither one of his two guides addressed the problem an Alchemist might have with, say, actually fighting someone. Naruto wanted to be a kickass Shinobi, after all, not some backline medical pansy.

— Why, yes, that was rather childish of him. But guess what? He was a child, so he got to act childish. Bingo, bitch.

If he counted his experimental and accidental success on the Chakra Smoke Synthesiser, this would make three recipes the blond had mastered. It was remarkably more expensive than the other two, of course — Volcanic Stones weren't exactly rare, but, in Konoha, they might as well be… and the particular type of lizard he needed was also only found in Iwagakure. The rose, scarab shell and toad tongue were comparatively easier to come by, but Naruto still depended on Sensei to get him ingredients when the man went on his long "trips". Thankfully, Sensei had yet to disappoint him, usually bringing metric tons of little gifts to his hideout.

...Sensei was awesome. A prick, sure, but super cool. Not only did the man train him, but he also gave him supplies to experiment with. Whatever god had gifted Naruto's life with Sensei was getting a Miso Ramen offering from Ichiraku. Actually, make that three.

No more than three, though. Naruto didn't get that much money from his dad per month, and he was a healthy growing boy with a healthy appetite. The rest of the ramen was his, obviously.

Still…

"Man, it's probably getting late. I should head on home, right?" He asked himself, raising his gaze to meet the half-moon that marked the metaphorical centre of his starlit sky.

— Yeah. It should be around midnight, probably. Learning how to read the sky had been one of the first things Naruto picked up from Sensei; 'Lessons in environmental awareness, Naru-kyun!', as he had so excitedly shouted when they started. Despite Sensei's eccentric behaviour, usually ranging from "I want to piss you off" to "I am actually five", the man was undoubtedly a competent Shinobi.

He'd long since learned the way to and from the Forest, so returning shouldn't be an issue. He always made sure not to venture too deep into it, of course; the forest was absolutely enormous in scope. It could take up to a day for a Chūnin to traverse it from top to bottom. Not that he was enough of a maniac to go that deep; some 30 minutes of travel that led to a particularly hidden clearing was more than enough for Naruto's own purposes, and everyone either didn't care, didn't notice or assumed it was just another eager Genin testing their shiny toys.

The way back was unsurprisingly peaceful. He jumped from branch to branch in and between the long trees that dotted the landscape, sticking to them with the chakra control exercise Sensei had shown him once. Sometimes, he'd take the time to push off with a particularly intricate flip in mid-air, letting his long golden locks follow him and dance to the wind's unruly tune, only to fall back on his feet with a smile.

— Anyone watching would probably assume he was a Taijutsu specialist or something. That couldn't be farther from the truth; Naruto was fast on his feet and had amazing footwork, but what he excelled in as an acrobat he more than compensated for with his sheer ineptitude for proper Taijutsu. That asshat Kiba had described his unique spin on fighting as " it's like trying to pummel a bird".

He'd almost lost a fucking tooth that day. Stupid mutt. Not like he cared for Taijutsu anyway, but still. Thankfully, the headbutt he'd given Kiba had also made its mark. Enjoy the crooked nose, dogbreath…

(Funnily enough, Kiba was probably Naruto's best friend as far as the academy went, and they'd walked that incident off with laughter and claims of fame. Naruto, however, didn't forgive and didn't forget.)

...But I digress.

Walking through the gates proper was easy enough, and all he had to do was walk home after the fact... While taking care not to be seen. By ANBU.

It sounds a lot harder than it is — not because the ANBU were incompetent, but because he knew Konoha like the back of his hand. More often than not, their patrols were limited to the main streets, the Konoha walls, the clan districts and sometimes the old City. The training grounds that weren't on the edge of Konoha were usually left relatively alone, since they were low-risk areas and Konoha couldn't really spare the ANBU.

Getting to his house, though… that took some work, but it was nothing particularly challenging. Stick to low ground, stay in the shadows, etcetera.

The Namikaze Estate was so oversaturated with protection seals that ANBU were almost unnecessary; there were two on the front, one on each side and one on the back. The one on the rooftop of the side of the house his window was in was always very attentive, but he was too focused on the rooftops to catch Naruto skulking through bushes until he was already within the Estate's privacy seals.

He'd learned all this from trial and error. Though Naruto's stealth was pretty good, or at least good enough to lead Chūnin on a goose chase, it failed to stand up to ANBU for a good while. They were usually lax in their scolding of him, and he used to just stay by the lake for an hour or two before heading back, so there was a non-zero chance they just assumed he was safe enough.

— That was probably it. No ANBU tried to chase him away when he'd painted the Hokage Monument that one time. Maybe they were fans of his particular brand of humour. Climbing into his window was an easy affair, especially with the wall-climbing trick Sensei had taught him a few months prior, and within minutes Naruto was in the safety of his own quarters, away from most prying eyes. His door was kept locked and marked with as many "Keep Out!" stickers he could find within the village walls, and by the nature of their unfortunate circumstances, he was left alone more often than not anyway.

— Except when Dad was home, in which case he had to smile and playhouse with the rest of them. It was an unspoken agreement between them all, really, one even Kushina seemed to partially buy into; the Forth was under too much pressure to deal with the reality of their splintered family. So he played along, smiled and ate with them when one of his sisters swallowed their hatred and called out his name. For Dad's sake.

Thankfully, dad wouldn't be home for a little while, if half of what he was hearing around the village was true. Apparently, Iwagakure was facing some dissent from survivors of the Third War or their relatives, beckoning for Konoha to suffer the price of their 'transgressions'.

He didn't know much about that other than the few whispers he could catch and an off-handed remark from Sensei, but every Konoha Shinobi on a mission near the Land of Earth had been either recalled or relocated.

Oh, well, whatever. Politics weren't really Naruto's thing; it was all dumb grown-ups talking stupid. Really; you'd think not being an asshole wouldn't be a daunting task, but the adult world constantly proved him wrong in every way he could have possibly dared to fear. It was almost admirable, honestly, in the same way failing every single exam you ever took with a perfect 0 would have been.

He paused to unseal the Storage Scroll he carried around, channelling Chakra into it and watching as a series of colourful vials appeared on the ground he was now sitting on. Most were filled with variations of same-coloured liquids, though one or two had solids within them. In particular, the yellow liquid of his newest invention drew a smile from the blond's lips. He had prepared three of them and it seemed like he was right to; it had worked perfectly.

The same couldn't be said for his attempted combination of an Ox's blood and iron to create a strength-enhancer. That one had just made him puke. As for the more insidious vials, both coloured dark blue — There was little doubt in his mind that those poisons worked, though there was a margin of error involved in testing those on animals regardless of their size.

He wasn't about to poison himself. And on his failed copy of the Hero's Water...

Kami knows what interpretation he screwed up on to take such strong materials, properly activate them and still end up with something that far from his intended result. Or maybe he fucked up when picking his materials? It'd require further thought regardless of which, though experimenting on himself was a big no-no at that point. Fool me once…

— Still.

There was a reason he'd tried to undertake such a project in the first place. Even if his knowledge was, for now, insufficient. Even if it was risky. Even if it was stupid.

Because — Uzumaki Naruto was weak.

Despite their young age, both of his sisters were already genin-level in skill alone.

Sure, their repertoire was limited, consisting of only the Academy 3, Shunshin and a low-ranked elemental ninjutsu for each, but that was already far more than what he had to his name. The fact that their instructor was Kushina — who avoided him almost as much as he avoided her — probably contributed significantly to that, but alas, Naruto didn't particularly care for logic when it was time to hold some grudges. They sucked and that's that.

As for Naruto himself…

He had a passion — his alchemy. He wanted to wield it until he couldn't, to hold onto that spark of success until he drew his last breath. In an ideal world, he'd hold onto it and it alone, except for perhaps some Fūinjutsu when he was older. Because Naruto wasn't a frontline Shinobi, and that was fine.

However.

The thought that he was weaker than those around him — weaker than his siblings, weaker than his peers, irked him.

The thought that he was weaker than he would be if he had Kushina's support, however, enraged him.

He had Sensei. He had his guts. He had his alchemy. And by the Gods, he would make it be enough.

Naruto sighed to himself wearily, re-sealing every vial into his storage scroll and hiding it under his bed, as he usually did. He ditched the orange vest he usually wore without a second's thought, dropping it lazily to the ground as he climbed on his bed and pulled the blankets over his own frame, and yawned.

Tomorrow would be another day of excruciating monotony. With that thought, he closed his eyes and drifted slowly into sleep.

As usual, he sat beside Kiba when he got to the Academy, two rows behind Ino and one in front of Hinata… and on the opposite side of the room to Rin and Mito's usual seats, to make absolute sure he'd spend the least amount of time around them possible, a fact they both seemed to appreciate.

Kiba did little but offer him a fanged grin and a slap on the shoulder, which he promptly answered with a fistbump in silence. If the Inuzuka knew of Naruto's initial reasons for sitting beside him, he most certainly couldn't tell. But the Man

Naruto appreciated the hell out of Kiba, honestly. They weren't Shikamaru-Chouji levels of best friends or anything, but the canine aficionado was probably Naruto's best (and sometimes only, depending on Ino's mood that day) friend. He was loud and brash, just like Naruto himself could be, so they clicked well (and pranked a lot better) with each other.

— Plus, he had called Kushina a "blind red asshole" for pretending he wasn't there once, so, you know, that was cool. Actually, it was more than cool and Kiba could probably qualify for the spot with that alone.

No, Naruto didn't have particularly high standards, why do you ask?

(Also, Akamaru was really cute.)

"Alright, " Iruka-sensei called out as he walked into the classroom, letting silence answer his words for a moment before continuing with a pleased smile. "Settle down, all. Today will be a long day."

Naruto instantly scrunched his eyebrows with a thoughtful frown on his face, leaning over to whisper "It will?" as if it was an important secret. Kiba raised an eyebrow at that, turning over to give Naruto his most unimpressed stare for a few seconds before muttering back —

"Yeah. Taijutsu and Bukijutsu practice, remember?" Thus he spoke the most dreadful sentence Naruto had heard.

...There are not enough words in any dictionary to describe the sheer dread that crossed Naruto's veins at that. His forehead dropped and thumped painfully against the table, instantly attracting Iruka's attention — the teacher let a small frown settle on his face, hands on his waist as he rose his voice to question;

"Is anything wrong, Naruto?"

Naruto's only answer was a long and drawn-out groan of sheer unadulterated frustration. Kiba, being the good pal he was, deemed it necessary to translate his sentiments.

"Whiskers here forgot it was Taijutsu day."

A pause.

Naruto liked his Sensei a lot more than he did most — the man was particularly patient with him, even if Naruto had the feeling the Chūnin didn't really like him all that much. He was kind and a good teacher, unlike assholes like Touji from last year who kept staring at Naruto like he was about to grow nine tails and eat toddlers. Therefore, Iruka was quite aware of the young blond's dislike for the more physical parts of being a Shinobi.

Honestly — Naruto's academic life was complicated. The boy hated math but rocked at Chemistry, loved Geography but sucked at language. His Ninjutsu ranged from "simply outstanding" to "whatever the fuck is wrong with the Namikaze family's Bunshin", but none of that compared to Naruto's utter dislike for Taijutsu. Iruka's class was particularly loaded with heirs to Konoha's big clans, which was good in the sense that it meant they'd all make pretty high-quality Shinobi, but it also meant most had gone through some sort of training at home — which meant they were more experienced. Even Shikamaru Nara had a Taijutsu style of his own, separate from the academy basics everyone was taught.

Therefore — Naruto would be at a tremendous disadvantage against them.

On the other hand, Naruto was too tricky to put against the ones who didn't get any training. His attacks were telegraphed from three miles away, a mistake the boy found hard to correct with his dislike for the stiff form they taught usually, but that was compensated by the fact that the boy just didn't. Sit. Still.

The blond would jump, twirl, duck and dodge through everything but the harshest of offenses. His dexterity was admirable, honestly — Iruka had seen Jounin with far less grace, and the boy was quick on his feet to add to all his skill. Asking a student who hadn't gotten formal training to hit a boy that spent as much time in the air as he did on the ground was just as unfair as pitting Naruto against Kiba and waiting to see if the Inuzuka boy could catch the blond before he got too tired to fight.

So Iruka put on a sympathetic, if a bit forced, wince.

"It won't be too bad, Naruto."

"You won't be the one getting your ass kicked so hard your pelvis touches your stomach, " Naruto replied, voice muffled by the wooden table, and the Chūnin chuckled slightly, rolling his eyes in what the Uzumaki hoped was an affectionate manner.

The words that the boy spoke were childish in nature, if a little funny even to him — but they were also light-hearted in a way Iruka was always glad to hear. The Kyūbi had taken his parents from him, had burnt down his home and stripped his life away from him, but Naruto wasn't the Kyūbi.

Sometimes, Iruka needed to be reminded of that fact. On days after nightmares sullied his nights, the Chūnin would have a hard time looking his student in the eye. And then the Uzumaki would crack a joke or throw paint at someone's face, a smile as big as the sun in his face, and his worries would vanish into nothing.

(On the unfortunate side of things, his respect for the Hokage always took a hit after a day spent with Naruto.)

"Well, why don't you worry about that after recess and instead focus on our first class for the day? Plus, we'll be doing Bukijutsu practice, and I know you enjoy that." The Academy Instructor suggested with an amused smile, raising his left eyebrow slightly, and Naruto did little but shake his head in response.

"Can't, " Naruto replied dramatically. "I'm busy feeling sorry for myself."

Kiba snorted at his woes, again proving himself Naruto's best pal. The blond would have shot him a withering glare if he wasn't, as he had so eloquently put it, busy feeling sorry for himself. No way in hell he would forfeit, though — Uzumaki Naruto never backed down. From anything.

Even if that anything was a very obvious ass-kicking. Some things just never change.

For what it's worth, Iruka didn't actually punish Naruto or Kiba for their little jokes in the beginning of class, instead choosing to start his lesson on the Nidaime and his many exploits in the war. With history being one of the subjects Naruto could actually say he liked, it didn't take long for his mind to leave the incoming pain he was sure to experience to focus on each word that left the Chūnin's mouth.

Man —

The Hokage were awesome. Like, all of them. Naruto was particularly fond of the Sandaime, who had taken upon himself to master literally every form of combat he could possibly get his hands on, but the competition was harsh. It was hard to worship Dad like he worshipped these dead figures, even if he knew for a fact that Namikaze Minato was a name feared by every single Iwa and Kumo Nin to this very day.

Naruto quickly doodled the Nidaime and Sandaime on a blank page in the notebook he had open, much to Kiba's amusement (though, to be fair to Naruto, he was quite good at drawing). It was a quick little caricature, with both Hokage looking very stylized as if straight out of a cartoon. Though simple, it'd ended up pretty goddam cool in Naruto's opinion.

Alas, however —

Recess had to eventually come, much to Naruto's terror. He'd almost had a heart attack when the bell rang.

As usual, he stayed behind as most students opted to leave the classroom to eat their lunches and converse. Kiba usually didn't, preferring to eat outside and maybe run around a little with Akamaru, but the Inuzuka would keep him company now and then, as would Ino when she wasn't feeling particularly Sasuke-crazy. Hinata usually stayed behind, too, but he never quite managed to talk to her… she always looked kind of constipated. Maybe she hated his guts, he didn't know.

As a side note, there was another little detail to his routine.

His eyes met with Rin's own as she and her sister walked past his row in silence. Mito always seemed more than happy to ignore his existence, usually too eager to go talk with her friends outside, but Rin always looked like she had a bone to pick with him. He met her cool gaze with a determined one of his own, not breaking eye contact until she finally huffed, turned her head and walked outside, much to his relief.

"Da-amn, " Kiba whistled, looking at him with a raised eyebrow after she left. "You and Sunshine over there still have issues, eh?"

"Understatement of the century. I think the stick up her ass is poking her brain…"

You, dear reader, might not find such a comment that funny. But Naruto and Kiba were prepubescent boys who had only just discovered the joys of cursing — thus, it should come as no surprise that they both broke down into near-hysterical laughter after a few seconds.

He once heard it said in a whisper — all songs have their secrets. A metaphor, one of many sprinkled into the books he buried his nose in. At the time, he'd been naïve; a fool, so full of life, so full of wonder. All of those were still too true, but it was fact that pain could and would temper someone's heart.

He wondered what secrets his song would hide from him — what strings had been plucked to make and break him into himself. A fool Naruto might be, but stupid he was not, and after years spent wondering what he could mix to make miracles, it was easy to see what was missing from a miracle all his own.

— And what was missing was this.

Namikaze Rin glared at him with cold eyes from across the field they'd been given, surrounded on all sides by students and teachers. Amethyst eyes met his own cerulean blues, draining the excitement he usually let flow through his veins and replacing it with the canvas of gray worries he had a hard time naming. So easy to feel bitter, so easy to feel full — and through her eyes he noticed the same, a strange type of angry detachment so unlike her usual vigour.

As per their family's tradition — Naruto was the outlier to everything good that they could offer. His hands tightened into fists with the thought alone.

"Alright, you two." Iruka spoke from the edges of their limit, his voice so easily dissected. He sounded regretful, guilty, lost; no doubt gazing at him with apologetic eyes that could tell him it wasn't meant to be like this. "I want you two to have a clear match. No Ninjutsu is allowed. We gave you both blunt Kunai and Shuriken to use if you wish — they were coated in paint so we'll know where injuries would be."

It was hard to focus on anything the man was saying. Naruto told himself it didn't matter, screamed it mentally until he felt like he could finally breathe. When he felt like this, his mind felt clear. When he felt like this, his mind felt free.

He hated her. He hated her so, so much.

Uzumaki Naruto could get good at everything he set his mind to, and lying to himself was but his main priority, the one thing he spent more time on than the many vials he kept hidden in his extra pouch.

Instead, he kept his fingers on the edge of each of his weapons pouch, digging the tip of his sandals onto the dirt below them. Opposite to him, Rin assumed a stiff stance, a bastardized approximation of their Father's own Taijutsu style. Her feet were kept firm and on the ground, legs close together and hands lazily open near her face.

He didn't have any such stance — not except for the Academy Stance, and that one really wasn't his thing. It wasn't fundamentally flawed or anything, but it was designed to instill the fundamentals of Taijutsu on the bodies and minds of students; it wasn't stiff but it was grounded, sharp and limited to allow personalization.

Alas — grounded wasn't really his thing. So he let his arms raise loosely, spreading his feet and bending his knees just slightly, inhaling the fresh scent of the green forests that surrounded them and taking in the sight of his sister's own frame, tense and ready to hurt him. He grinned at her stern expression, eyes twinkling with amusement at the spark of frustration in her own.

He couldn't win. He absolutely couldn't defeat her, had no way to actually beat her like his heart screamed for him to do. Naruto was an alchemist, a scholar, a range and plan fighter even despite his obnoxious nature and energetic behavior, and Taijutsu was usually the last thing on his mind. Not even Sensei had managed to instill a joy for the art within his mind… not that the man had tried very hard.

But —

There was no way Naruto would give up. No way in hell.

She wanted to beat him? Fine. She probably would. But Naruto would make it hell.

"Begin!" came the shout of damnation, a bell ringing in silence and echoes as all whispers ceased to be. Neither combatant moved; their muscles tensed, eyes narrowing as they gauged each other up.

And then Naruto was the first to move.

"—!"

A wordless gasp of surprise escaped the blonde's lips, her eyes wide even as they followed his dexterous jump across the field, twirling overhead as he drew a Kunai with a reverse grip. For a moment or two, Naruto was above her, above Rin, above their name, above their blood — and the wide smile in his face made it clear how much he savoured that.

He descended upon her with a wide slash from above — but a sidestep taken in a hurry made sure the blade hit nothing but air, and Naruto suddenly found himself with an unguarded side. Crap, he thought, kicking against the floor to spin and dodge an incoming punch—

It was too late. Rin's first fist impacted with Naruto's ribs with a crack, and he was sent skipping across the dirt for a while before sticking his fingers into the dirt to stop his own momentum. The skin didn't really withstand that very well, but he didn't really care. Like a cat, he prowled in a pose akin to a hunter's before leaping at the Namikaze with a fanged grin marked by a slip of blood.

This —

Fingers deftly dug into his Weapon pouch and, still in mid-air, released wave after wave of Shuriken at her. He flicked the spinning blades at the Kunoichi with practiced flicks of the wrist, using the endless wave of black projectiles to cover for the moment his feet touched the ground once again.

To be fair, Namikaze Rin was skilled. She had drawn a Kunai without a single word spoken and had taken to block the onslaught of throwing stars within a second of its beginning. Dodging was aimless; if nothing else, Naruto was the best at aiming

It was unfair.

It was absolutely and completely unfair.

But —

" …! "

Uzumaki Naruto was a tricky, tricky bastard.

The Shuriken aimed at her legs wouldn't do much other than maybe scratch her calves and thighs, but because there were Kunai aimed at her head, blocking wasn't going to help all that much either. And dodging was, as previously stated, immensely difficult — using projectiles in a fight is almost entirely about predicting where your opponent would be once your weapons reached them, and Naruto was absolutely prodigious at doing just that.

The only person better at using sharp and pointy objects against moving people was Tenten, a girl from the class above theirs who even their Chūnin instructions were sometimes in awe of. Naruto had challenged her to a contest of aim once and ended up being handily defeated, though the girl was kind enough to compliment him anyway.

Before they parted, however, she seemed it fair to teach him something —

Always keep them on their toes. A flinch is an invitation.

Rin was forced to jump and weave her way through the projectiles, clumsily catching herself when she noticed a new thin line of paint across the skin on her legs, arms or face.

The sound of the Kunai splitting the air was different without the edge to give it an extra oomph, but the alarm bells in her brain were set off all the same. Having done the unthinkable and moved in while she dodged, Naruto tried to sucker punch her while holding a Kunai in an icepick grip for extra range.

However —

Namikaze Rin was faster than he was.

Therefore, as she quickly bent her knees to duck under the sweeping steel, the girl allowed a smirk to blossom in her lips — and delivered a crushing punch to Naruto's guts, ignoring the flash of silver and red that passed through her vision for a split second only.

As expected, he was sent skidding to the dirt, holding his stomach in obvious pain. She took that moment to take a deep breath, reforming her Taijutsu stance to move in before he could try and catch her off-guard again.

Her intent was obvious — to end this as quickly as possible. Whether that was because of her obvious distaste for him or because she knew his odds increased as the fight went on, he wasn't sure.

Not that he cared.

"Namikaze!"

Iruka's voice echoed softly throughout the training ground. Slowly, Rin paused to turn and look at her instructor, giving the wheezing blond on the floor some previous time to breathe.

"Yes, Sensei?" Her voice was soft in mellow curiosity — but the trace of smugness was unmistakable, the absolute asshole. I mean, sure, feeling victorious was a nice feeling, but Rin was an asshat and deserves to be treated like such.

From the sidelines, Iruka frowned — looking closely at her face. Finally, he waved her off.

"It's nothing, proceed. In the future, I'd recommend being more cautious, however — if you'd been half an inch closer, he would've finished you off right there."

A pause.

She immediately whipped her eyes back to her brother's fallen form — who shot her a grin as he rose with quivering knees, mirroring her previous smugness with a satisfied look of his own.

In each of his hands was a Kunai.

Therefore, back then, that flash of silver had been —

… Namikaze Rin narrowed her eyes.

Good, Naruto caught himself thinking, flexing his neck and twirling the Kunai around his finger as they circled one another yet again. The more she took him seriously, the more he'd get to reach her.

That wouldn't catch her twice — he was surprised it caught her once. But it didn't matter. From here on out, it wasn't a contest of skill — it was a contest of endurance. She'd beat him, they all knew; it's just a matter of how long he'll get to dance around her before she does.

… Then again.

That didn't matter, either.

His eyes traveled to the thin lines of pain across her skin — and his mind flashed back to the vials of poison in his scroll, carefully concealed under a pile of meaningless school stuff.

Yeah.

He would certainly lose this battle — but he'd already won the war.

When Uzumaki Naruto held his trusty Kunai up, he did so with the brightest smile.

...Ah, yeah.

If you're wondering about the "Tome" thing, that's not just me being dramatic and ripping off Avatar. Well, I guess it technically is, but labeling the story in "pieces" like this first one called "Resurgemus" — which means to rise or to rise up in Latin — helped me keep track of what I'd done already and where I needed to go.

...and, ah, then I named them "tomes" instead of "book" or "part" because I wanted to be dramatic, yeah. So, uh, you can start calling me names now? Maybe?