Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of its characters.

Warning: child abuse and bullying (mostly mentions of it), some dark themes, too much fluffiness sometimes. A real rollercoaster (or, at least, it's supposed to be).

Author's Note:

Sigh.

It's finally done. It took me longer than I wanted to, especially with your wonderful reviews making me finish this as soon as possible. Thank you very much for all the support and positive critique, guys, it warms my heart, it really does. And the number of followers keeps growing along with my enthusiasm about this story.

Someone sent a PM asking about the timeline, so I tried to make the events and everybody's current age clear at the bottom.

Enjoy the chapter!

(Longest chapter yet, yay!)

All Things Are Difficult Before They Are Easy

By Amaryllis D. Namikaze

Chapter VI:

The Third Year

"Fall seven times, stand up eight."

Japanese proverb

The first time I met Minato's team was five weeks after he became a Genin. In a way, I had known who his teammates were, since being in the same Academy kind of made it obvious that at one point I've glanced at them. Not to mention their clan status. Or my previous life knowledge. Really.

It was Saturday, but ninjas didn't have a day off unless their squad leader or teacher said so. If you were a squad leader, well, lucky you. Minato had gone off earlier than usual, mumbling sleepily – who knew that genius Namikaze Minato was terrible in the mornings? – about training.

Being horrible in the mornings also meant that Minato naturally forgot his bento. I was tempted to leave it at that as lesson, but my fondness of him won in the end. My brother was my last living family, which made us closer than ever. Mom's death last November still clouded over us as a silent reminder, even though it was already May.

Sighing in exasperation at my brother forgetfulness, I put on my usual clothes – a pair of black pants, a short-sleeve dark green hoodie and fingerless gloves – and went to training ground 12.

My first experience with Team 7 – more commonly known as Team Jiraiya – can be described as it follows.

There was a huge man sitting on a training log and laughing boisterously. There was my brother facing-palming in the sidelines. And, then, there were a long-haired kid and a permanently-glaring kid brawling.

That's right – brawling. Because rolling on the ground and punching each other's face off couldn't be called sparing.

Jiraiya was tall. I had seen tall people before, of course, but not when I was about 120cm. His hair was so white that you could write him off as old at first glance, but his face was, except for laughing lines, free of wrinkles. Despite his easy smile, however, he was the first to notice me standing there and observe me with a cautious glance, never dismissing me as a potential threat just because I was a child.

That was kind of flattering. And scaring too, since I doubt I'd ever be able to win against someone like freaking Jiraiya.

Minato was the second to see me there, which was somewhat surprising actually. He possessed something graciously nicknamed "Little Brother Radar". Chōza had been the one to name it after seeing firsthand how overprotective my older brother could get. Long story.

"Mii-chan?" He called, confused. It lasted a second, before he grinned widely. "Did you miss Onii-chan? That's why you came here?"

I looked away, embarrassed. Minato, you're just… Oh, boy.

"You forgot your lunch," I stated. And, just for the heck of it, added, "Baka Aniki."

He put on his the moment Minato loses all his pride and acts like a mother-hen face.

"No, Mii-chan, you can't call me Aniki," Minato complained childishly. It was obviously a new side of him to his team, for they were exchanging glances behind my brother's back.

Jiraiya laughed and it felt as if the ground could tremble from it.

"The Blond Brat has an even younger Blond Brat at home. How unexpected!"

"Tch, what a shitty spy master you are if you don't even know that about your student," mocked the permanently-glaring kid, also known as Uchiha Fugaku.

The Uchiha wasn't as tall as my brother – making it kind of clear why Itachi wasn't the tallest guy in the anime in the future with him and Mikoto as parents – but his arms were more toned than his teammates'. His hair was more of a dark brown than an onyx-shade, but his eyes were as black and endless as Mikoto's.

"Shut up, Bratty Brat!" Jiraiya said, karate-chopping Fugaku's head. The Uchiha nursed it with a muttered swear so foul it would make a sailor blush. Wow. That certainly wasn't what I had expected from the future Head of the Uchiha Clan.

"You're terrible with nicknames too, Shitty-sensei," the Uchiha countered.

The long-haired kid clicked his tongue, "I didn't sign up for this."

He was obviously a Hyūga with his pupil-less lavender eyes and light-colored clothes. His mid-length brown hair held in a low-ponytail made his face seem older and more rigid than it should for a kid his age. Everybody in the Hyūga clan looked alike, making it hard to identify who he was just by observing, but as Minato had been his classmate for years and teammates for weeks, I already knew that this one was Hyūga Hizashi.

"Should've thought of that before, Old Brat," Jiraiya murmured, crossing his arms.

Minato finally decided to stop comically crying over the word Aniki. He gave me a hug in thanks for bringing his food and, putting his hands on my shoulders, pushed me to his team's general direction.

"Guys, this is my cute little brother Namikaze Kumi," he said, acting like a proud mama bear. "Mii-chan, these are Jiraiya-sensei, Uchiha Fugaku and Hyūga Hizashi."

Politely bowing, I said, "It's nice to meet you. Thank you for taking good care of my brother."

"Hah, I was hoping for an attitude after your first response to Blond Brat, but shouldn't have expected anything other than this with someone as Blondie here as your brother," Jiraiya commented, sounding disappointed.

"Uh… Sorry?"

I suppose.

He dismissed it a wave of his hand. I noticed how Fugaku and Hizashi were too busy glaring at each other to care about being polite and replying.

"Will they be okay?" I questioned my brother, indicating the almost-brawling-once-again pair with my chin. As my hair was reaching just under my waist now, it was just heavy to fly everywhere when I jutted my chin out like I usually did.

Minato smiled, patting my head comfortingly.

"Nah, they'll be fine. They do this all the time, after all. It's their way of saying I care about you, you know."

"It's not!" Was the twin reply. Well, obviously not busy enough glaring at each other, simply impolite enough to care about my presence and dignify it with a response. How flattering.

Feeling sorry for my brother, I put my hand on his upper arm and he looked down at me distractedly.

"Mii-chan, what is it?" He asked, confused with my gesture.

"Onii-chan," I said with all sincerity I could gather. "Good luck."

"What?"

The third year in the Academy was much less boring than the first two. There was much less focus in the theoretical part with the whole morning being used to train the body instead of the mind.

As we spent the entirety of the second year – supposedly – learning how to throw shuriken and kunai, it wouldn't make sense to focus on that exercise this year. The same could be said to endurance training, since it was expected of us to follow it ourselves.

Saki-sensei spent the two first months teaching us how to make traps and avoid them instead. I discovered that while Mikoto was absolutely amazing at this – in fact, the best of our class – I was absolutely terrible.

Minato had been right when he said that I'd prefer Ninjutsu over Genjutsu despite the good grasp I had over my chakra. Last year, as we learnt how to create illusions, it became painfully obvious how unimaginative I could be while practicing the most basic Genjutsu. It had made me somewhat disappointed that, yes, you can read all the books you want in your life and still be as boring as an old geezer.

I thought I had gotten over my dislike for Genjutsu, but it came back tenfold when I showed myself incapable of planning out-of-the-box traps. I could disarm them well enough – it was even easier with my constantly growing flexibility to bend at weird angles – but creating them? Ha.

Tsume, of course, said it was hilarious that there was finally something I couldn't do. Apparently, my friends thought I was as prodigy-like as my brother, in spite of the fact that, in my childish mind, no one could be as cool as Minato.

It was with open arms that June arrived and I entered the classroom, ready to learn something that didn't include using ninja-wire.

"'Morning, Kumi," drawled a sleepy Nara. I smiled at one of my best friends, used to his early mood. Minato was the only person I knew that came close to a Nara at eight o'clock.

"Good morning, Chita," I replied, taking my usual seat beside him. It was one of the first things I learnt during my first year in the Academy: if you want to have a peaceful and productive class, do not sit beside Tsume or Ren. The former would poke you to death (not to mention Kuromaru – enough said), the later would talk your ear off. It was easier to tolerate Chitarō's light snores, Mikoto's constantly-writing pen or Kihito's tendency to play with my hair.

My attention was directed toward the door sliding open. I wasn't surprised to see Mikoto entering the room, as she was the most responsible of us. One time, I asked Chitarō why he arrived so early if he wanted to sleep, but his answer was the most Nara-like reply ever, "Well, if I get up late, I'll have to run, while if I get up ahead of time, I'll be able to choose where to sleep in class." The only thing missing was a troublesome murmured at the end, followed by a sigh.

"Hello," Mikoto greeted us, waving. Graceful as ever – as expected from the daughter of the Clan Head – she sat down.

Seeing that Chitarō was already snoring, I replied for both of us, "'Morning, Mi-chan." Taking a good look at her expression, I added, "Why the long face?"

It was easy to read her wide black eyes, even if Uchiha were recognized by their unfailing poker face. Mikoto, however, with her white shirt and dark-purple short shorts, wasn't your usual Uchiha. She was a walking contradiction. Her high-collared shirt with a fan on the back and pitch-black hair and eyes made it to believe her heritage; her inborn kindness and quiet support did not.

"My little brother starts the Academy today," she revealed after a few seconds.

I nodded sympathetically. I knew that Mikoto loved her brother from the bottom of her heart and worried about him a lot. I had only gone to the Uchiha district once and it was to ask Mikoto if she wanted to sleepover at Tsume's house with the rest of us. It had been a uncomfortable situation – walking through the clan's streets and knocking at the Clan Head's house, I mean. All that meant I only had heard of Uchiha Kizoku, but it was enough to know that he and Mikoto were as different as day and night.

"Why only now, though?" I wondered out loud before I could stop myself. It wasn't really my business to know.

Mikoto smiled softly at me, not mad at my curiosity.

"Otou-sama," she was always respectful toward her father, "was training Kizoku until now – he didn't want to stop their schedule just because classes had started."

She paused.

"And the Hokage allowed him to start later," Mikoto admitted, as if it was an embarrassing fact. She didn't like favoritism and it was obvious to me what the Hokage's decision looked like. I couldn't say much, though, since he had let me start later too.

Slightly tilting my head sideways to peek at her downcast eyes, I smiled. Mikoto twisted her lips up in response, if only to assure me that she was okay.

Sometimes, it was simple to forget how pressured my best female friend was. She was only ten, but it was expected of her to marry a strong Uchiha and produce more Uchiha babies – in fact, a marriage contract had been signed ever since she was born, though the husband was to remain anonymous until she reached Chūnin rank.

(Not that I didn't know who was the mysterious guy, anyway.)

Her father favored her younger brother, paying exclusive attention to his heir and consequently neglecting his oldest daughter. At first glance, it seemed that my friend dealt with this situation well enough, but with a mother that was the perfect housewife, a strict father that couldn't care less about her ninja career and a brother that was succumbing under all his future responsibilities – well, Mikoto needed all the support she could get. Even if it was from a broken twenty-four-turned-eight year old like me.

Truthfully speaking, my group of friends could be considered a group of misfits. At first glance, we all seemed content with our lives, but under all that bubbled a desire to prove ourselves to everyone else.

There was me, a guy who didn't stay dead and had to live tormented with the memories of my terrible first life and the pressure of knowing the happenings of my second one. There was Mikoto, an Uchiha destined to be nothing more than a dutiful housewife who wanted to prove more than anything that she could be a competent ninja in her own way. There was Tsume, the rightfully Clan Heir of the Inuzuka that was always met with looks of disdain from the canine family for being a woman. There was Kihito, the son of the Sandaime who didn't follow his father's ideal word for word. There was Ren, the Yamanaka that managed to scare off civilian kids for the sole reason of descending from a mind-walker clan. And there was Chitarō, always in the shadow of his immensely intelligent brother.

When put like that, it wasn't surprising we managed to be friends in spite of our vastly different personalities. Every one of us worked hard at getting stronger for our own reasons. Even my formerly shy nature had changed to match my friends' determined stubbornness during those years we spent together.

I had decided that if a bunch of nine-year-old kids could be so damn headstrong about their goals even against all odds – well, so could I.

As the months passed, the focus of this year in the Academy became clear. The first one was focused on the theories – Math, Geography, History, Chakra Pathways and its Uses, First-Aid – on the things that would help us survive on the field. The second one focused on the basics - how to handle the most common weapons, the beginner's katas, how to dispel and create illusions, Kawarimi and a few tricks with chakra.

The third year, however, focused on Infiltration, Intelligence and how to survive on enemy's lands. They taught us how to handle torture with psychological exercises and how to lie with a straight face. More often than not, you would find a third-year student practicing stealth instead of chakra control. Henge no Jutsu was the Academy-three – Kawarimi, Henge, Bunshin – passed down this year, even though Minato had already taken the time to teach me the hand-seals.

Two students from civilian families gave up sometime during July and one was whisked away to the T&I when it became clear his potential of becoming an interrogator. Saki-sensei told us that it wasn't unusual – few of us would graduate to become a Genin squad under a Jōnin-sensei. Apparently, most of the students went to different departments, be it medic-nin, decoder, Genin Corps and many, many others. I hadn't realized there were so many possibilities, though it should've been obvious from the start that there wouldn't be enough Jōnin to spend time teaching us all.

All in all, the third year could be a great year or terrible year depending on your abilities. Mikoto, for example, flourished – she was exceptional at making traps and devising infiltration plans. Ren, like a true Yamanaka, was great at mind games and could cast Genjutsu like no other.

Kihito and Tsume, however, were out of their elements. The former excelled in fighting with his bō-staff and recently-taught Fire Jutsus, but was terrible with simulations that involved discreet assassination, such as poisons or psychological torture. The later was simply too loud with her dog partner and wasn't suited to infiltration either with her incredible tracker skills.

Chitarō – true to his Nara nature – did what was expected of him. He had started learning his clan techniques with Shikato-san and had a surprising aptitude with the practice swords. And, even though he said all the time that his brother was ten times more intelligent than him, we could always count on his brain. Writing codes became a hobby of his.

I did well enough – even with the traps tragedy at the beginning of the school year. Torture and Intelligence didn't catch my attention at all, but Assassination seemed cool. It was a mix of Infiltration and a frontal line fighter, which suited my abilities just fine. I'd never have the best stamina, but my ability with jutsus was nothing to scoff at.

The only person who knew the name of my new Taijutsu style was my brother, who helped me when he had time, though I often learnt the katas alone (my ability to read, memorize and learn had to be handy some time, after all). It was called Hayai Tejun, or simply Quickstep. According to the scroll I found in the library, most people chose not to use it despite its effectiveness, because the user had to be small, as in shorter than 165cm. It was a risky move – who knew? I could have a growth spurt – but I ignored it.

Quickstep was a leg-relying style, which meant that the user had more strength in the lower body than in the upper body. I only used my hands to put them on the ground and spin my legs, kind of like break dancing. In a way, it was a dance – just much more deadly. Pressure points were my new friends and honed reflexes my new abilities.

Quickstep was wonderful for a previous Taijutsu-failure like me, but wasn't invincible and was certainly nowhere near mastered. I still lost to Minato every time we sparred against each other and Kihito – the best at hand-to-hand or weapon combat in our group – defeated me eight times out of ten.

And, finally, I also dedicated this year to learn the basic of sealing. The death of my mother served as an incentive to solving the guarded secrets and mysteries involving Fūinjutsu. There were scrolls in the library, but they were only accessible to Genin and over – which meant that I conveniently used Minato's pass every time, not only lying to the lady at the desk, but also to my older brother.

(It made me feel horrible, but, hey, his life was at stake here.)

I was surprised to discover that sealing interested me very much. I had liked the coding classes almost as much as Chitarō – our friends thought us weird – and loved solving riddles in my last lifetime, which made the complicated art of seals appealing. It was kind of like learning a new language – you started by translating sentences in your head, before deciding somewhere in the middle of it to "Fuck this!" and to treat each word as a thing with individual meaning. Only much harder.

It's true that I could have simply told Minato about my desire to learn Fūinjutsu and he'd have supported me in this decision and even, perhaps, found me a teacher. Except I didn't want to tell him. Sealing was the only thing that I hid from my brother for months and months. I spent hours over ancient scrolls and books, trying to understand what the hell the writer had meant when he said that perpendicular lines could be used in four – four – different ways and spirals were for stability as well as a base.

Was it irresponsible of me to be self-taught at Fūinjutsu? Absolutely. But with my new found determination to succeed and my love for my brother made me ignore everything else with a single-minded stubbornness.

Dear Kumi,

Happy Birthday! You're nine today and I couldn't be any prouder, sweetheart. I bet you're all grown-up now too. I hope Minato finally learnt how to bake the chocolate cake he used to pester me about and that's what you're eating right now. (Don't forget to eat your vegetables, though.)

If I'm calculating it right, you must be almost done with your third year in the Academy, yes? Just one more and you'll be a Genin. Goodness, how time flies. I remember when you were so tiny-tiny that one hand was enough to lift you up.

Make sure to take care of yourself, Mii-chan. And don't let your brother prance around too much – you deserve your fair share of fun.

Missing you lots,

Mommy

And so the months passed calmly and quickly. Until Uzumaki Mito-sama's death was announced with great sorrow by the Sandaime Hokage and my brother didn't come back one night, two weeks later.

Uzumaki Kushina had been kidnapped and I had completely forgotten about it.

Oh, God.

(A little warning: I was too lazy to go and look up everybody's birthday date before doing this, so, yeah. Frankly speaking, calculating months and such is annoying as hell. Hate this. Can somebody understand the struggle here?)

Ages at the end of the chapter (!):

(It's January 4th, a few days after Kumi's birthday)

Namikaze Kumi – nine years old

Uchiha Mikoto – ten years old

Sarutobi Kihito – ten years old

Yamanaka Ren – ten years old

Nara Chitarō – ten years old

Inuzuka Tsume – eleven years old

Namikaze Minato – eleven years old

Uzumaki Kushina – eleven years old

Uchiha Fugaku – twelve years old

Akimichi Chōza – thirteen years old

Yamanaka Inoichi - thirteen years old

Nara Shikaku – thirteen years old

Hyūga Hizashi and Hiashi – thirteen years old

Aburame Shibi – fourteen years old

(Minato's class has graduated practically one year ago, making them one year older than the usual graduating age – twelve.

(Kumi is two years younger than his classmates and his friends, except for Tsume, one year. Technically speaking, Tsume is the only one in the correct class according to their age. Minato would graduate with them, had he not skipped two classes.)

(Fugaku skipped one year.)

(Kushina entered in the fourth year, graduating with them.)

(I made Shibi graduate with the rest of the clan heirs despite being one year older according to the Naruto Wikipedia. And, no, he didn't appear yet, just in case you're wondering why the heck I put him in this list along with Hiashi.)

So, the ages are canon according to my calculations, but I could be wrong (Math – my mortal enemy). I won't change it, though. That's it, take it a face value for this story.

A brief explanation:

Namikaze Torii died in November, while Kumi was born in December, which means that he turned eight the same year she died. Some people seemed confused at this, since I said that she died when he was seven and sometime later said he was eight. He ended this chapter being nine.

I'm trying to follow Japanese-school calendars – so, school starts in April.

Oh-kay.

That's it, guys. If there are any more doubts, just send me a PM or review and I'll try to answer it.

(Wow, only noticed now how few dialogues there are in this chapter. Oh, well.)