The morning of the exam came sooner than I expected. A glance to my right showed an alarm clock ticking away an hour before it was supposed to wake me. I watched it for a time. Chakra-enhanced eyes tracking movements that were imperceptible in a past life. Each twitch of the second hand created a cascade of movement and shaking that seemed so violent you'd think the house would rattle. Then a blink, and I could hardly tell the hands were moving at all.
It wasn't the exam itself that had brought on my lethargy. I'd spent far more time worrying about the conspiracy I was unwittingly a part of. Not to mention the fact that I hadn't been twiddling my thumbs these past few years. I was the youngest in the class but top 5 in every area. The only person I hadn't beaten in a spar was Hyuga Hide. If that was enough to keep me from graduating, he'd be the only one getting a headband today.
A tender touch of melancholy was pressing on me due to the finality of it all. A chapter was closing in my life and what came next was unclear. I was unlikely to be on a team with either Shizune or Kurenai. Well… I was unlikely to get put on a team with Shizune. Kurenai might not even be an option. She had the remarkable ability to fail exams. All the training and studying escaped her mind when someone graded it.
Another glance at the clock told me I was still early to rise, but today was a good one to get the worm. I forced myself through a few quick stretches, just enough to feel limber as I ambled out into the hallway. A dim light from the rising sun guided my way to the only bit of sentimentality I allowed myself.
Mother's room was the same as the day she left, save for a candle in front of our family photo.
Routine guided my legs to the desk and hands to the matches. Knowing the afterlife existed in this universe wasn't enough to get me to pray, but I could clasp my hands together well enough. There was an actual family shrine on the top floor tucked away in the back room. Mother had taken me there a few times. I never stayed for long. Something about wearing the skin of their actual relative made me feel unwelcome. The bastardized version I gave to mother would have to be enough.
I watched the languid flame slowly dance on the wick for a moment. Were I a better daughter, words would well up in my throat and prayers bounce down the halls. A drop of chakra-enhanced water doused the flame and cast the room back into shallow darkness.
Working on nature chakra would be a much more productive waste of time.
The front of the Academy was more crowded than I had ever seen. Family, friends, and clanmates had gathered to support the next generation. It was fascinating to see so many different groups of people compacted in one area. I'd guess over a thousand had gathered like moths to the flame. The mass of people managed to keep the noise much lower than I would have imagined.
The clan members were dour enough that you'd think it was a funeral. Some still spoke and intermingled, but it was muted by nerves and the gravity of the situation. Outside of wartime, graduation day decided the fate of a clan more than any other. Strength was the main political currency in the ninja world. The more shinobi a family could boast to its name the more influence they had in Konoha.
Each academy student that graduated had the potential to leapfrog their family to greater heights. The amount that a clan could push for with 500 shinobi compared to 50 might as well be comparing a king to a pastry chef. Not that I could give you a detailed rundown of Konoha's politics. Backroom deals weren't something a child would be keyed in on even before you added paranoid ninja into the mix.
This wasn't to say that quantity was everything. Plenty of small families and clans had oversized influence. The Senju being a prime example. S-rank shinobi could far outweigh a hundred of their average brethren. But so far, the only ones in Konoha were Hiruzen, Kakashi's dad, and, if you wanted to be generous, the young Sannin. A-rank shinobi were more common, but Konoha probably had less than three dozen after the previous war.
Shinobi conflicts were funny with how they would either create or destroy high-ranking ninjas. Konoha and Ame lost many of their best, while the pressure had Iwa and Suna gaining more. That isn't to say that any of them came out stronger in the end. A few more A-rank shinobi and a single S-rank is a rough price to pay for the death of thousands and terrible damage to their economies.
The new disparity wouldn't be enough to change the tides completely. Great shinobi could come about during peace just as easily as they can during war. But it did put even more pressure on the children gathered.
Ordinary families stuck out like a sore thumb in the mass of people. Not due to looking all that much different, any gathering in Konoha would be an explosion of colors and styles. Instead, the way they acted gave it away. Laughing, cheering, and speaking happily with others in stark contrast to those around them.
I slowed my walk to a crawl once I reached the crowd to observe the different factions popping up. The Uchiha and Hyuga were comedically dedicated to gathering on opposite ends with almost no intermingling with anyone else. Stereotypically, the Akimichi, Nara, and Yamanaka were loosely gathered, with a few small families hovering around them. I was much more interested in the smaller families and cliques forming between them. Like the odd pairing of the Aburame and Inuzuka or the Sarutobi clan being orbited by the remnants of once-great families.
The number of independent clans would surprise someone born in Naruto's generation. There used to be even more than the dozens gathered today. Ten years ago and there would have been almost twice as many and in greater numbers. Most of the independent clans remaining had less than five families left. Quite a few were down to a single line like my own. There'd be even less after the Third Shinobi War arrived.
An excited voice from the side pulled me from more morbid thoughts. Shizune was practically bouncing in place and calling my name. Her enthusiasm turned to embarrassment once she remembered we were in the middle of a crowd. I couldn't help but laugh at the red on her cheeks as I made my way next to her.
Or at least I would've if the noise hadn't caught in my throat at the sight of her companion. Senju Tsunade was an imposing woman. Tall and graceful, like some perfect princess that had escaped a fairytale. She was glaring daggers at someone, and I wasn't brave enough to ask who. I could tell she was on edge before either of us uttered a word. Severe was the best descriptor I had for her expression. Whatever half-baked peace she would find gambling and drinking in the future was nowhere to be seen today. Honestly, she looked mad enough to snap me like a twig.
My presence didn't register until I was nearly an arm's length away, but I was saved from being on the receiving end of her ire by a Shizune-shaped rocket.
"I'm so glad you're here! I was worried you were going to be late but I didn't want to come by if you were preparing but then I thought we could get ready together but then I…" Shizune continued rapidly while I held back laughter at her antics.
A grunt from Tsunade stopped Shizune in the middle of her rambling and caused the poor girl to go beet red all over again. Tsunade didn't go as far as laughing as I did, but the ghost of a smile on her lips was softer than I thought she was capable of a few seconds ago. Shizune managed to rally herself quickly and introduce us.
"Rinko this is my aunt Tsunade, Tsunade this is my bestfriend Akiime Rinko."
"Really? I thought you never stopped talking about her because you hated her."
"Tsunade!"
"It's a pleasure to meet you Tsunade-sama. Shizune also never stops talking about you, so don't feel jealous."
Another grunt escaped Tsunade's mouth that could've been confused for a laugh… if you squinted. She leaned back on one heel and gave me a critical eye, transforming into a medical nin without warning. She rattled off questions about my age, weight, height, approximate chakra capacity and control, continuing on without a care for the people gathered.
Shizune's reaction was to put her head in her hands and turn away from the scene. I was too shocked by the change of pace to feel the same embarrassment, even if I was annoyed at the sudden invasion of privacy. I wasn't about to protest. She could've told me to start barking, and I would've done it. Saying no to a Sannin just wasn't possible.
I took solace in that we weren't even close to the weirdest pair in the crowd. Shinobi were eccentric as a rule. Put this many together and weirdness was inevitable. I'd seen three children get launched into the air by jutsu and more than one child dragged back to their family via a shadow.
My favorite sideshow was a small betting ring forming around an Inuzuka-style dog race. Ironically enough no dogs were involved. Instead, academy kids and a couple of younger genin would race on all fours. They bowled through the crowd, following a path that seemed equal parts predetermined and chaotic. Managing to knock over enough people to be a nuisance but not anyone important enough to put an end to it.
Tsunade finished the examination with a quick medical scan and a click of the tongue. "Healthy for the most part. You need to get more sodium if you plan on exercising chakra at this rate. More protein too if you want to keep using weights. It would be best for you to spend the next few years focused on training." She spoke calmly to me but kept her eyes trained elsewhere until a whisper escaped her lips, "It isn't too late to pull out of the exam."
Shizune gave no sign of hearing the whisper and was tugging on Tsunade before I gathered my wits enough to respond. The young girl spoke with more confidence than I thought she would ever possess, "We can focus on training after we graduate. I'm ready aunt Tsunade. Rinko is too."
Tsunade didn't react like I imagined she would. There was no shouting or anger. Just a trembling hand and quick intake of breath. The Sannin was more resigned than I thought she was capable of. She knelt down and squeezed Shizune into a tight hug. I lingered a respectable distance away that coincidently was still close enough to eavesdrop. "I love you. No matter what happens I'll always love you."
I was hoping to hear a secret pass between them rather than loving and comforting words between two people who had lost the most important people in their lives. The tender moment was short-lived as they separated themselves. Public expressions of love were rare and muted in our culture, even more so between ninja. All that remained of it was a strained smile from Tsunade and a bright one from Shizune.
It was then that my forgotten presence came back to the forefront. Tsunade spoke to Shizune again, "I have to take care of something. Bring your friend over next weekend and we can celebrate."
With that, she left with barely a glance in my direction. Shizune took hold of my hand as we watched the princess get swallowed up by the ground. A squeeze and smile were all it took to banish the funk I'd found myself in. Shizune was right. We were ready for this and we could handle whatever came after.
Her newfound confidence showed itself again as she marched forward, pulling me along behind her. "Kurenai is already inside. Let's get in there and ace this thing!"
The Academy's inside was like another world. Dead quiet and brutally structured. Chunin were stationed at nearly every corner, directing students one way or another. Shizune and I were quickly shunted off in the opposite direction of most of our fellow students.
The exams took place in several large rooms spread out throughout the academy. Usually, a few classes close in age would be placed together and the students spread out amongst strangers. It wasn't done to cut down on cheating. Cheating was rare enough already and even Itachi wasn't skilled enough at this age to get away with it.
Instead, it was another way to increase pressure. Practical skills were king, but it was still essential to understand how your future shinobi would react to stressful situations. Not that having a bad reaction to stress or poor mental health would keep you from getting thrown in the meat grinder. Hinata passed with a mountain's worth of hang-ups and she wasn't exactly the most skilled genin on the planet.
Our class was used as something like a catchall. Class sizes and age groups didn't always match up perfectly enough to be split apart equally. We ended up being paired with the oldest group left in the academy. All of them were students over 13, rare but there's a decent amount each year.
They tended to be students capable of molding chakra but untalented or unmotivated. Dead weight that the village had put too much time and effort into to discard. Most of them were destined to live and die in the Genin Corps, though at least one would be a late bloomer. One out of forty having the potential to reach Chunin wasn't great, but it was good enough that the academy didn't kick them out.
Kurenai was comedically placed between twin brothers who were the largest 14-year-olds I had ever seen. The poor girl looked like a stiff breeze would cause her to hyperventilate. I didn't take it too personally that she missed my wave and thumbs up.
The exam was startlingly long for how young its takers were. It wasn't crazy for some students to spend more than six hours poring over it. The questions were nice and eclectic too. You'd jump between six subjects in only four questions, each one wildly different in difficulty and content. Think going from a basic multiplication table to a short essay on the feasibility of using Shinobi to improve farming near Konoha.
It was also entirely modular. Two students could have almost entirely different exams, with only one or two sections being the same. The village used it to further judge aptitudes in students. Each person in the academy was assessed on what part of shinobi work would be best for them or what parts would be a poor fit. The exam was just another way of narrowing that down.
Don't take it as meaning the exam penciled in the rest of someone's career. People changed regularly, and just because someone had the aptitude for it didn't mean they wanted it. But it did create a good baseline for departments who wanted to recruit shinobi that fit them well.
The village didn't really care about how students scored on the aptitude sections. You could fail three-quarters of the exam and still pass just fine. Only the core section that every student had was used to determine whether they passed or failed. I was curious about what my sections were trying to measure, but not enough to stick around and ponder it half the day. The three hours it took for me to finish was more than enough thinking for me.
Though there was little room for anything else in the waiting room. I had thought that after turning the exam in that I'd be pushed through the practical sections quickly. Instead, I got sent into a windowless room filled with other students. I could smell the nervous sweating from the doorway and the hour I spent marinating in it hadn't improved my mood. The process of calling people to go to the next stage of the exam was random and painfully slow.
Or at least it seemed random at first. I started having doubts when almost the entire room had been cycled through multiple times while I remained waiting. Being singled out was a source of agitation that I endured as well as I could. Especially since there was one other going through it. Hyuga Hide had been waiting longer than I had, not that he seemed half as affected as me. Even the Chunin calling out names every few minutes seemed ready to leave but Hide might as well of been at a spa.
I was weighing on whether I could spit far enough with chakra to hit him when the little prick winked at me. I was on my feet, glaring at him in a moment. A cough from the Chunin at the front reminded me of where I was, and almost twenty students' eyes threatened to turn my face red.
"You might as well come over here. You were next up anyways."
I crossed the room with dignity and grace… until I tripped going through the doorway, and Hide's laugh followed right behind the closing door. Luckily the only people inside were a couple of no-name Chunin and Shigaki-sensei, who basically doesn't count.
"If your done making a fool of yourself I'd like to move along. "Over a hundred more students need to be tested," Sensei called out, sounding even more annoyed than usual. A nod from me and he continued, "Gen, Nin, then Taijutsu. Move to the center and be prepared."
The Chunin holding a clipboard gave a quick nod and foreign chakra began flowing into my system. After all the training with Kurenai, the blatant invasion stood out like oil in water. Confidence poured into me as the chakra dissipated and I couldn't help but give a thumbs down.
"Was it supposed to be that easy or do you wanna try again?"
The clipboard Chunin snorted and began to move on until Sensei spoke up, "Overconfidence is unbecoming of a kunoichi. Test her again."
The Chunin didn't bat an eye at the sudden command. There was no warning for this one. A click of his tongue triggered a sudden bout of vertigo. I dealt with that quickly enough, but it took me a few extra seconds to find and eliminate the chakra that was sending shadows to the corner of my vision that looked just like someone posed to strike me from behind.
It was a surprisingly skilled application of the art that would've easily fooled me if Kurenai wasn't such a prodigy. Just using Genjutsu without hand seals is hard enough. Hiding one underneath another with wildly different effects and a much subtler chakra flow was exceedingly difficult.
It took incredible chakra control and concentration, and I almost laughed at the implication. The Chunin could easily be a top-tier surgeon in Konoha with his skills. Instead, he had focused his talents on an esoteric art used for little more than killing and espionage.
I'd ask him why he made the decision if I thought there would be any point. The type of mindset it took to become a great Genjutsu user tended to be at odds with having a suitable bedside manner. Better to move on with life rather than think about what could've been.
"You'd be dead if this was a real fight. Three seconds to escape is acceptable for an academy student. Three seconds during war is a death sentence."
Sensei went back to ignoring me after the short dressing down. It was even more annoying that he was right. I'd be able to handle almost every average ninja's use of Genjutsu, but the great ones were still beyond my capabilities. Just because they were nearly as rare as Fuinjutsu masters didn't mean they didn't exist.
We flew through Ninjutsu and Taijutsu without any further interruptions. My nature control wasn't good enough to properly show off, and even if I released the chakra weights it wouldn't be enough to close the gap if the Chunin was taking the spar seriously. At least he was nice enough to give me a look at his actual Taijutsu once I'd asked. It was a good benchmark for how much further I needed to go.
A shinobi could have a eureka moment in the other disciplines and make months of progress in a single afternoon. Prodigies were famous for having multiple throughout their lives. But Taijutsu was a marathon through and through. Even the prodigies would take decades to reach their peak. Might Guy (or is it Maito Gai in this world?) was the greatest Taijutsu user ever, and it took him decades of beyond-obsessive training to reach the summit. Getting to that level wasn't something I'd even consider, but becoming elite was necessary.
Finishing the exam was a nice step in that direction. My face hurt from smiling once the Chunin declared the practical portion over. Signing away my life to a military dictatorship had never seemed so sweet. Months of work in the academy and years of training before it had led to this moment. Or at least it would've if this was where I got my headband.
Sensei ignored my smug look and motioned the Chunin with the clipboard over. Reading over the results with a tight lip for a long moment before sighing. "Go to processing and await the results."
I barely waited for one of them to point me in the right direction before I was out the door and down the hall. I was lucky enough to run into Kurenai looking shell-shocked next to her father in the hallway. She had just walked out of processing with a headband in her hands. The poor girl had turtled up into her shell after getting rewarded for her hard work.
I didn't yell out because her father was whispering in her ear, but she noticed me amid her daze. The smile that broke out on her face could've lit up a moonless night. Her father missed me, but she mouthed 'good luck' before the corner took her out of my sight. Then there was nothing left to do besides enter the room and wait for my own reward.
And so I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I waited while people laughed with joy.
I waited while they cried.
I waited through families ashamed of their son's failures.
I waited through families crying over their daughter's successes.
I waited for hours in that damn room. It was barely past noon when I entered. Now the sun was starting to set, and I had been told nothing. The stream of students coming in and out had slowed into a trickle hours ago. Some of them have had to wait as well, but the longest besides me was a Nara who napped passed his name being called.
I wanted to scream or cry, but neither would do any good. Relief would come before the day was over. I knew that I was too skilled to remain in the academy. Even when holding some things back, I was already labeled as a prodigy. Sure I was young for a graduate, but you didn't have to Kakashi to get out of here early.
Leaving me in the academy was a waste of an asset and villages had to be run on cold logic instead of emotional attachments. Not that knowing it made the wait even better. I had discarded the idea that it was a test of my patience. A game was being played with me caught in the middle. The anger that threatened to rise in me was smothered by foolish pride. I wouldn't give the people pulling my strings any satisfaction. All I have to do is suffer through this and everything would be okay.
The kunoichi's voice is soft when she calls my name. Her desk seemed to be halfway across the world though it only took four clipped steps to reach it. Her mouth opened to speak, but the violet in her eyes distracted me. It reminded me of the lilacs in mother's garden.
"I'm sorry. Could you say that again?"
"You didn't pass. The next exam will be in six months if you'd like to try again."
Words were exchanged, but I couldn't tell you who gave them. All I could feel was the coldness spreading through my blood and the blurring of the walls. I slipped into a stupor interrupted by sharp flashes of coherency breaking through the ice.
The kunoichi's sad smile and well wishes. Screaming in an empty hallway. The color of the wood in an empty classroom and sharp pain in my palm. Anger, hate, disappointment, mother's voice, and the path to Sensei's room.
My hand opens his door to a room devoid of warmth and far larger than sensible. The man behind the desk was dark and imposing though the devil himself wouldn't be enough to deter me. His eyes held no gleam, and his face was blank as I approached. Calmness I didn't know I still had settled over me as I spoke.
"What did you do?"
"You'll have to be more specific."
"We both know I'm more than good enough to pass Sensei. So what did you do?"
"Apparently not then. Your failure is outside of my hands regardless."
"Bullshit. I'm not so stupid to miss that you've been against me since we met."
He leans forward at my words and glares down at me, speaking with a barely subdued snarl, "I have always treated you with the courtesy you deserve."
"I'm better than almost everyone who passed and you know it. I deserve be—" His hands slam on the table quicker than my eyes can follow, and he advances on me, shouting with each stride.
"DESERVE! You are lucky to deserve another moment alive much less the leeway you remain blind of,"
I move back to avoid getting bowled over, but he matches me step for step. The wall at my back ends my retreat but looming over me isn't enough. Sensei roughly grabs me by the shirt and pulls me to eye level. His chakra flares out and overloads my senses, ending my struggles before they could begin and he continued in a rage, "You are just like your mother. Entitled brats who believe an ounce of suffering places the world in their debt."
"Deserve," he spits out, "You deserve nothing more than whatever meager career you can scratch and claw from the ineptitude you were born out of."
He drops me to the ground, and all I can manage is rasping gasps. The fear around my heart is banished by a cold anger that runs through my veins. I'd give anything to kill him, yet I can't even get to my knees. The best I could manage was a glare as he continued to rant.
"The Ikeda clan has born nothing but arrogant fools like you. I have seen the pattern more times than I can count. Your teammates will die, good people will suffer, and somehow you'll be unscathed until you can die at the worst time possible. You are a mistake that knows nothing of what it means to be a shinobi."
We made an odd pair after his last declaration. I was still trying to control my breath and temper while Sensei stared down in a daze, surprised by his actions, and blankly watched my struggles. I couldn't trust myself to try and speak. I had stepped on a landmine and wasn't sure how to keep from setting another off. Hate coiled tightly in my gut like hell had frozen over.
My mind raced to try and find the connection between my family Sensei, but I came up empty. That there was history between them was obvious, but I knew nothing of the past grudges. I moved on to getting retribution, but it was just as fruitless. Even if I were a clan kid or the child of someone important, the most punishment Sensei would get is a harsh talk from the academy director, and I doubted it go that far. The most influential shinobi were from the warring clans era or the first generation after the villages were created and they'd think I got off lightly.
A child barely academy age coming in and yelling at their superior. Getting jerked around and scared by a bit of chakra was nothing in their mind. Corporal punishment or harsh treatment wasn't anything rare in the ninja world. There was nothing I could do besides try and get my body to listen to me again and hope his outburst didn't end with a side of child murder.
Sensei said nothing when I found enough energy to sit up. Nor did he say anything once I rose on shaky legs. His blank stare had morphed into a granite mask, and neither of us was willing to break the silence. He leans back against a desk with a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking down at me once more.
"Don't be late for class next week."
The academy being completely empty was a viciously on-the-nose metaphor for how I felt. All the tension in my body had snapped under its own weight. My mind had continued racing, trying to make some sense out of the day before it also decided to snap given the circumstances.
I was having enough trouble putting one foot in front of the other to care about the emptiness. It had just been too much in one day for me to process. I needed to escape from myself before I broke down in the hallway. Getting failed on purpose made me want to rip my hair out. Getting cornered and jerked around by Sensei sucked, but it wasn't… the worst thing ever. I'd been treated rougher by mother and during spars.
But the feeling of his chakra engulfing me was horrific. An all-encompassing mass of something stickier and heavier than air but somehow less tangible. I could feel it permeating the room and invading some sixth sense hidden from me before that moment. I don't think it was meant to be killing intent or a threat—just a quick flare of his chakra in anger.
The memory of it would be enough to raise my anxiety if it hadn't already busted the meter. At least there were some benefits to dissociating via stress overload, I mused. A dull throb from my right hand had me wishing I was dissociating a bit harder. I had balled it into a fist hard enough to draw blood at some point.
The idea of healing it floated around in the back of my mind, but I let it float on out the door. The effort required took more energy than I had. What little remained in me was focused on a single thought.
It was just all so damn frustrating.
Sensei is a nobody. He was never in the series, hell he might not even be alive by the time Naruto is born. But he might as well of been a god compared to me. A Jonin unimportant enough to spend his days teaching preteens instead of taking missions and a simple flex of his chakra had me in an existential crisis.
I knew there was a gulf between me and greatness. I had deluded myself into believing it was more of a river that needed to be crossed instead of an ocean. Disheartening, but I couldn't afford to let it slow me down. Death hadn't managed to shake my resolve. A sad old man with a grudge damn sure wouldn't be enough to keep me down. Sensei would become a stepping stone I'd take particular joy in stomping over. It would just take time that I wasn't sure I had.
The third war was coming sooner than later and would slaughter thousands of Konoha ninja in a few short years. Not to mention the nine-tails shortly after. The only things that could keep me from death would be the strength to stand on my own two feet or pure dumb luck. You'll forgive me if I don't consider myself lucky enough to rely on it.
Having a Jonin instructor would've been a perfect handicap to get strong enough in the little time I had. Expert one-on-one training along with a lethal bodyguard. Being without was a problem but not unsolvable. The solution was annoyingly obvious. Work hard, be smart, and take every advantage I could. That didn't mean I had to like it but was there anymore I could do?
I wasn't the hero of the story. The power of friendship wasn't about to buoy me to become the strongest kunoichi in the world. The life of a ninja was a vicious scramble for survival from the moment they stepped foot into the field. Our entire profession is finding new and creative ways to brutally maim and murder one another. I couldn't love this world for giving me a chance to rise to the top of the mountain if I wasn't willing to make the climb.
The setting sun on the steps of the academy brought an end to my racing thoughts. The summer heat had given way to a cool breeze and beautiful skies. A smile started to break out on my face from the—
"Wow Rinko-chan you look awful," a concerned Obito said, newly gained headband reflecting the light into my eyes. His own widened, and he leaped into my personal space, "I get it! You must have failed the exam. Don't worry Rinko-chan it's super tough. This took me like eight tries!"
I can't believe Rin let this idiot breathe in her presence, much less befriend him. If I needed any more proof that my failure was rigged, Obito was the smoking gun. He'd shown up late and had to beg to take the exam. Yet here he was, an official Genin of Konoha. Getting instructions from the future 4th Hokage without realizing how lucky… wait a minute.
"Congratulations," I said through gritted teeth, "Maybe now that you're a Genin you could help me train."
He started rubbing the back of his head and gave an awkward laugh, "Hehe… I guess I could show you the ropes. I can't stay out long though. I have to get to bed early today. I find out who my team is early tomorrow!"
"That's okay Obito-senpai! Why don't you tell me all about it once you are done tomorrow? I can cook us a meal to celebrate."
"Really? You don't have to. I mean that I wouldn't want you to—do you really want to… you know?"
"I'd love to," I said with an unforced smile.
AN:
Sorry about all the waiting! A lot of stuff happened in the past couple of months and I'll skip the boring details. Just been busy with life.
The next chapter should be out sooner. I feel pretty shaky about this one, but I think it is more to do with being out of practice rather than anything else.
Time-skip incoming next chapter.
Thanks for waiting and for all of the support. I hope you guys continue to enjoy my work.