Happy New Year. Cheers to everyone reading this.
Tenten could not be happier about her situation. Alright, that was a lie. If that damn man died, then she would be perfectly happy. But for now, she could settle for this. Her gamble paid off, and she was selected for the shinobi academy. That damn man finally threw her out, and was making plans to leave the village before her evaluation for the academy - not that she cared. It was enough for her that he was leaving.
As though all her good karma had been accumulating and waiting to hit all at once, she'd also been invited into a fast-track program. The stipend was almost twice that offered by the academy, and the 80% subsidy on shinobi tools sealed the deal for her. It wasn't like she could really understand all the fine print in the document accompanying the invitation in the first place.
As she made her way to the Hokage district, she was fairly skipping along. This deep into the shinobi section of the village, civilians were rare, and she stuck out like a bent nail. Naturally, this made it easier for her to notice the second person sticking out like her. It went without saying that 'sticking out' was only relative to the crowd that populated inner Konoha - the section of the village that was overwhelmingly shinobi. In the civilian sections of outer Konoha, they would be practically unnoticed along with all the other street rats that populated the tenements.
The boy was a bit taller than her, with arms and legs that seemed a bit too long. His reddish hair was cut close to his scalp, doing nothing to conceal what was to her a horribly large head. His large overcoat reached his thighs, and almost completely obscured whatever he was wearing underneath it. Even though flashes of grey and beige could be seen, she couldn't tell if they were simply a part of his coat or not.
He oozed 'Fresh trainee' to someone who had practice in selecting marks that wouldn't end in an embarrassing beating. The quality of his clothes screamed 'clan', though he must not be very important if he was unaccompanied. Or at least visibly, she thought after a moment. Naturally, she altered her path to meet him.
"Hey there! Are you going to the admissions office too?" she said by way of greeting as she caught up with him, using her cheer in the disarming way she picked up on the streets.
The boy turned, and she saw his most distinguishing features yet - three pairs of whisker-like marks that looked like they were cut into his face, and eyes whose whites held a tinge of red. Recognition came like a slap, and she realized who he was - what he was; the demon boy. He was spoken of in whispers in outer Konoha. The adults spoke as though he existed, but the street rats knew better. Or thought we knew better, she thought bitterly. That damn man used to threaten to give her to him to eat as a punishment. She steeled herself, hoping that she was quick enough to keep her fear from her face even as she tore her gaze from those whiskers - birthmarks! - and to somewhere between his brows and eyelids. The boy calmly watched her, his eyes evidence of her failure to keep her thoughts from him. Her fear spiked painfully before it suddenly hit her that he seemed to be giving her time to recover, even though it was evident that he both knew, and expected what was going through her mind. All this led to a somewhat uncomfortably long silence before he finally replied to her question.
"Yes I am," he replied. "I'm Naruto, by the way. Uzumaki Naruto."
His voice was ordinary - not the sort that was particularly pleasant or otherwise. Just completely unremarkable - a far cry from what she imagined it would sound like.
"Tenten," she replied, "Just Tenten." She replied automatically, thanking all the kami she knew that her voice was steady. Sort of. It took a moment, but what he said finally sunk in. A family name? She somehow didn't expect him to have one.
He nodded at her name, and turned to continue his journey. Unthinking, she fell right in beside him, her mind a whirlwind as she struggled to decide what the appropriate means of relating ought to be. Not scrunching up my face at him that's for sure. It would be madness to needlessly make an enemy of him if even a third of the rumors were true. Of course if even a third of the rumors were true, she was marked for death already just by being in the same space as him. The uncomfortable silence continued in all it's oppressive weight until they got to the admissions building.
Konoha's admissions building was one of the busiest parts of the civilian administrative section - especially during this period. The three-storey building was otherwise unassuming, the gray finish and wood-steel exterior blending in with the generally drab decor of the administrative section. There were other children there too, accompanied by their various guardians. A banner bearing the crests of all the clans in the village in the rough shape of the spiral leaf hung over a large entrance, and clan children were lined up in a quiet, orderly manner before it. A similar door was open beside it where other children - civilian born, no doubt - milled about in a noisier, more disorderly fashion. The instructions on her letter directed her to the black door in the corner that seemed more like a storage closet from outside. The demon, Naruto, and corrected mentally - followed her, contrary to her expectations given the surname. For a brief moment, irrational fear threatened to overwhelm her before she settled for the most probable explanation - the boy was obviously given the same instructions she was.
The door opened to a stairway, which led to another door - this one wood. Behind the door was a spartan room occupied only by a serious-looking man behind a desk.
"Drop your completed files on the chair over there, and take a seat," said the man, his bland voice a stark contrast to his harsh face.
As Tenten dropped her file, she could not help but read the name of the file on top of the small pile already there, scrawled in thick, loud letters - 'Rock Lee'. What kind of person named their kid 'Rock' for goodness sake?
The man fixed them with a flat look as they sat, obvious even through the thick glasses that hid his eyes. She averted her eyes in mild discomfort, absently taking in the room. The thick, high collared coat that hung on the wall was the only personal touch in a completely featureless room. The immaculately arranged desk looked suspiciously like it was dragged in just in time for their arrival. As the look dragged on, she felt the urge to fidget with the blade in her sleeve - a nervous habit of hers. Naruto on the other hand remained perfectly still; he might have been a statue for all the nervousness he showed.
"Now," began the man, abruptly breaking the uncomfortable silence "your admission into the academy was all but certain - especially for you, young girl. Why? Because this is the first step towards repaying the faith Konoha is putting in you by providing for you. However, you're not here for that, are you?" he questioned.
Not waiting for their reply, he continued. "That you're here and not with the rest outside simply means that you have some use. You have a way to repay Konoha for the magnanimity she's shown you - whatever form said magnanimity might have taken. The program you've 'agreed' to join is an effort by the venerable sannin to replicate the success the Third had with them. Yet make no mistake - you will be serving Konoha in ways that others cannot."
As Ten Ten listened, she could not help the burst of ambition in her chest - a burst only similar to when she first heard about the legendary Tsunade. Konoha had a way of making powerful legends, and nothing but good could come from the attention of Tsunade-hime and her teammates.
"Like I tell every child that has walked into this room, make no mistake about what will be required of you," the man's voice dragged Tenten's attention back to what he was saying. "By virtue of your… situations, you have already been disabused of the silly notion that being a child somehow exempts you from the darkness of our lifestyle," he continued in his perfect monotone. "That is good. When you return to your abodes, you will each receive a package. Think of this package as your welcome package."
Tenten's ears perked up at that last thing, a little surprised that they were already accepted. It stood to reason that they wouldn't just accept anyone into whatever program that was being offered them - unless the program was some form of suicide corps. But then again, the sannin would never allow themselves to be associated publicly with such a thing, right?
"You are…"
"What about our entrance test, sir?" Naruto spoke, startling Tenten a bit at his rudeness in interrupting the elder man. Then again, from the street whispers she was privy to, the Uzumaki had a reputation for informality, except with the matriarchs.
"By showing up here, you already passed," replied the man as though he was never interrupted the first time. "You are dismissed."
Naruto knew that he looked awkward as he stood before the entrance of what would be his residence for the foreseeable future.
"Get moving, maggot," drawled a shinobi who seemingly appeared beside him. Her deceptively easy tone of voice did nothing to hide the pure steel underneath her voice.
As instructed, he came with nothing beyond the clothes on his back.
The girl he met at the office turned out to be his first non-Uzumaki - Acquaintance? Associate? I'm not exactly sure what to call her.Whatever she was, she was his first non shinobi contact that didn't freak out. Tenten was offered the same invitation as he was. He hardened his resolve even as he trailed his shinobi guide. The corridor had doors on either side, but the door he was led to was the last one on the corridor. Pulling the door open, he took in what was possibly his new room. The room was lined on either side with bunk beds - six per side. There were several other children in the room, and they all turned to look at him. Despite the fact that nearly all the Uzumaki children his age were invited, it seemed he was the only one that the clan allowed to join - not that he could blame them. Uzumaki shinobi training yielded extreme results, and until he got to a certain minimum level of chakra control, it would be completely useless to him. He noticed Tenten and smiled as soon as their eyes met, changing course for where she stood.
"Alright maggots," said a firm voice behind him. "Meet in the mess hall immediately,"
He nearly jumped in shock as he whirled around to face the door. His eyes fell on another shinobi - one he hadn't sensed at all. Such inattention could get one horribly pranked at best in the Uzumaki quarters. The shinobi was already on the way out in that eerie absence of her presence, her message delivered.
He'd come to discover that his ability to discover the presence of people around him was not normal - at least not without training or extensive trauma as Ichi-sama had explained. The ability was honed intentionally once it was discovered - no need to waste what was already there, according to Ichi-sama and Sugi-sama - until it became very nearly another means of perception, as familiar to him as his sight or sense of smell. To see it so casually evaded was not a comforting thing by any means.
He waited where he was as Tenten came towards him, taking in the room as he waited, and calling up the flame, a strange technique that all Uzumaki, blood or not, were taught. By the time she reached him, the void had consumed his trepidation, and he let it go. She smiled in recognition, punching his arm in friendly greeting as they hurried out of the room.
"Hey," she said. A small bubble of space surrounded the two of them amidst the quiet hum of low conversation among the others in the group.
"Hey," he replied. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't a tiny bit relieved that there was someone he knew, even just in passing, to talk to.
"You alright?" she asked.
"Sure," he shrugged.
The mess hall was a floor above their current location. They piled into the room, and as she dragged him towards the front. He resisted, and they somehow came to an unspoken compromise and took seats somewhere in the middle of the room. Over the next couple of seconds, twenty or so other children entered the hall in groups or alone - the effort to keep his senses at their maximum while conversing with Tenten made him ignore those whose presence was shouted out.
Two women entered the hall, and moved to the front of the room. The first, a brunette, was of average height and build, dressed in a smart kimono, and sporting a simple, if severe, bun. The second looked a bit younger than the first, though not by much. Her hair seemed almost purple, and her dressing was bordering on risqué. Her trench coat left a lot to the imagination, despite that it hinted so much. Somehow, despite flashes of what seemed like only a mesh shirt beneath the coat, she managed to remain covered, if only barely. None of them gave off any hint of presence at all, and he subtly tensed.
"Welcome to your new home, maggots," began the younger woman. "I'm Anko, and the lovely lady with me is Shizune." She paused, allowing her words to sink in, before twitching her coat in a way that ensured all the attention was on her - despite showing nothing. "All of you have two things in common: One, you're all weak meat sacks. Two, that won't do at all,"
The second woman, Shizune, continued seamlessly.
"You're not like other children. For some reason or the other, you don't have the luxury of correcting the condition that Anko mentioned about you all at the same relatively sedate pace as others your age. Yet all of you have potential - potential to become exceptional assets for your village. How many of you know about the Sannin?"
The children all looked at each other before they all raised their hands.
"Good," replied Shizune. "Let me tell you about that name. The sannin were named by Hanzo the Salamander, an S-ranked Ame shinobi who fought and defeated their unit in the second shinobi war. Hanzo was so far beyond them that he did not deign to finish them off when they survived his area poison/acid attack that decimated their squad mates. Instead, he named them, seeking to shame Konoha by a tag that defined some of our most promising by their ability to barely survive him. Yet do you know what Hanzo did wrong?" She asked.
Naruto was drawn into the story. The name Hanzo was familiar to him. The man was the first to revolutionize using summons in frontline shinobi combat. Extremely powerful, he was a formidable opponent and a nigh unstoppable force on the battlefield. He was aware of the battle he had with the Third's students, but he'd never thought about what Shizune seemed to be asking now. He leaned back in thought, the mumbles around him indicating that he was not the only one who did not know.
Shizune smiled.
"Hanzo made many mistakes that day, but we will only look at one for the purpose of what I want to say," she continued. "Hanzo assumed that the world would remain static. The infamously named 'sannin' grew, owning what was once an insult, and turning it into a title of strength. Meanwhile, Hanzo simply grew old, content in the power he once had to decimate battlefields. In the end, he was eliminated by local insurgents."
She looked them straight in the eye as she continued. "That is what we will do with you. You are all weak now. Most of you are orphans, street rats, and clan rejects. Yet that means nothing. Some of you bear the hopes of your backwards clans, and that also means nothing. The fact that you're here means that there is potential in you to rise beyond the muck, and become something more. The village believes this, and is willing to put its ryo where its mouth is with the hope that you will return the faith placed in you."
Anko nodded absently in agreement even as she picked up where Shizune left off. "These are your new family," she continued. "These are the people who you will train with and grow with. These are your brothers and sisters now. Now that the last of you is here, make sure you settle down and know each other."
"The rest of today will be your welcome," resumed Shizune. "You are to report at building 1A for your registration and kit, 1C for your haircut, 2C for your medicals, and 2D for your fitness evaluations. There will be a general assembly on training ground J1 by 9pm sharp tonight."
"Fall out, maggots"
Her first, unmediated brush with the business end of her family profession was surreal. Despite her position as clan heiress; despite the time spent with other Hyūga children in butcher shops; despite the experience of raising more than one pet only to slit its throat, nothing could actually prepare her for it - and she wasn't even the one that killed the man.
I suppose that it is easier given what he was, she mused to herself. The sight of the now dead men's chakra suddenly guttering out was seared into her brain - a 'gift' of her blood heritage. The telltale flickers of chakra use blinked in and out of her vision, another 'gift' of her blood heritage. The almost-not-there flickers of what had to be ANBU punctuated by the flares of the Hyūga jōnin - muted, but more evident in comparison to those of the ANBU; the slightly metallic tang that blood in the air always produced on her tongue; all that came together to produce an experience that was as uncomfortable as it was intriguing.
All Hyūga children were trained to recognize the distinct undercurrent of Kumo chakra - that crisp feel that was very nearly a taste in itself. When she regained consciousness in a large pot with her fingers broken and her mouth gagged, that static tang all around her, her training kicked in and kept her from panicking. It was hard to feel too much empathy for the deaths of the people who had her in that position.
All the bustle eventually ended with her in the hospital. A medic nin saw to her fingers, and she was promptly situated in the private ward for Hyūga nin.
The solid feel of her father's chakra filled the room as he walked in, pulling her from the unconscious meditation she sunk into when she swirled her chakra around. He must have been projecting consciously for her to sense his chakra so solidly. A whispered word with the ANBU just inside the door, and he came over to where she was seated. The only sign of his activating the next stage of their family heritage was the alteration in the feel of his chakra flow - he was too much of a master for the telltale signs of the byakugan to show on his face, despite its use.
"O tōsama," she began, breaking protocol.
"Are you well?" he asked in reply, not taking her to task for her rudeness. She wasn't too surprised at that - her father's uptight reputation was almost entirely deliberately cultivated.
"I'm fine, father," she replied. He would have checked her already.
In a rare move of public affection, he stepped closer to her, and put his hand on her head. It took all her self control to keep herself from blushing in public. In retrospect, his relief was only normal - it was rare for a lone Konoha citizen to have a brush with Kumo and survive. The last person to do so was the legendary Uzumaki Kushina - and she was a monster of a frontline shinobi. Her father all but confirmed her thoughts with his next words.
"Perhaps we have the beginnings of another Kushina, no?"
It was high praise from him, all the more poignant because it was not in the privacy of training.
"I will seek not to disappoint you, father," she replied.
"Focus on your recovery," he said as he stepped out of her private space and turned to go. "We cannot move on with your training until your fingers heal completely,"
"Yes, Father."
"And Hinata," he said, stopping at the door to face her. "You did well."
The warm feeling in her chest would be enough to keep her throughout her stay in the hospital.
"For those of you who are shinobi-born, you have been trained in the minimum required to keep up physically, if not theoretically. It is expected that you will form the core of the shinobi who graduate on to join the frontliners - a legacy and duty that stems from your heritage. There is no glory except in the satisfaction of your duty towards your home. For those of you who are from civilian homes, it is expected that the result of the preschool training will prepare you for the life of a support shinobi - the fuel which spends itself so that the fires of the frontline can burn all the longer. There is no shame except in the disgrace of a job poorly done."
The Academy was nothing like her fantasies. She wasn't really surprised - she was a child, not an imbecile. They all stood at parade rest - sloppily, if the lines of their seniors was any indication. But their teachers didn't look like they were taking too much offense at that. Of course they still glared at the few imbeciles who could not form a straight line until the retards got themselves in order - they weren't that lax. The voice of the Head of the Academy was quite pleasant to listen to - a Nara, by the style of his ponytail and formal wear.
She glanced at the line of teachers facing the group of fresh students. It was extremely difficult to get admitted into the First Academy - most students attended any of the smaller satellite schools that were located in Konoha, or the other academies in Hi no Kuni. Even the academy in Konoha Machi, rivaled only by the academy in the capital, fell short of the rigorous training offered by the Konoha First Academy. On one hand, only the best came here. On the other hand, only the craziest came here. What that said about her was not something she wanted to dwell too much on, especially since she was just eleven years old.
"You all know about the Will of Fire." The voice of the speaker drew her attention, his words suddenly carrying some form of extra weight. "You will now learn how to live it - how to drive it into your bones so that you bleed and sweat the Will of Fire, how to use it to make sense of the hellish world of shinobi you are attempting to gain the right to live in."
She moved through the motions unconsciously, her mind on the last part of the Headmaster's speech. The man had ended the speech there with no regard for how awkward it seemed, and they were immediately hustled towards where they would be processed for the session, and have their paperwork filed. She spent most of the time after her paperwork was done simply observing her seniors, the cacophony of humans creating a sort of background that she could immerse herself in. The issuing of kits, and accommodation allocation for new intakes would be held in the evening. All in all, it was a mentally and physically exhausted Sakura that fell into her bed a few minutes to light out.
Three other girls were in the room with her, and in various states of undress as they prepared for bed. The girl opposite her was a blonde who was already showing signs of what would become heart-stopping beauty in her later years. Her classic Yamanaka features were a dead giveaway for anyone who grew up in Inner Konoha itself. The girl to her left was harder to pin down, with a forgettable face - something that gave her an advantage right off the bat. Not like bubblegum pink hair, Sakura mused to herself tiredly. To her right was another blonde who somehow managed not to stand out, despite her hair color. My first step, she thought to herself, pleased despite her tiredness. Well, with the four of us in a team, I might as well break the Ice.
"My name is Haruno Sakura," she began, wincing even as she spoke. To her, even in the quiet punctuated only by the hum of electronics, her voice sounded like she was yelling.
"Yamanaka Ino," replied the girl opposite her, confidence coloring her words despite the tiredness in them. The play on the Yamanaka clan head's name made her suspect that the girl came from that family. Afterall, misdirection about the basics of one's identity to their teammate was at least a misdemeanor for them as academy students.
"Goto Futaba", "Shimura Hana," replied the other two, albeit with only tiredness in their voices.
"I hope we can do well together," she said in response. The others hummed in assent and support. It would have been ideal if they had the energy to bond, but that would have to wait for tomorrow.
Healing Chakra - A Treatise on Standard Iryojutsu
Senju Tsunade, Medical Director, Konoha Medical.
Clearance: A Rank
Excerpt
Despite this, our research seems to indicate some sort of balance is required. Those who more frequently received full chakra healing seemed to exhibit a reduction in their bodies' ability to withstand the rigors of active chakra use. This is especially marked in cases of injuries resulting from trauma, and poisoning. Our test subjects exhibited lower stress tolerance for pain, blood loss, blunt force trauma, and burns. The chances of shock and organ failure was observed to increase by at least (figure redacted) in the test group as well.
It would seem counter-intuitive, but with chakra healing, less seems to be more - especially in the long run.
It is for this reason that a recommendation based on the work of (reference redacted) involves training shinobi medics in mundane healthcare practices, and heavy investment in civilian healthcare research.