January 3, 138 A.F. 6:30 a.m. MAGT – Hidden Continent; Fire Country; Konohagakure no Sato; Ito Household

The silence of the early morning is broken by vibration and flashing lights. After sitting in a daze for nearly ten minutes Akira begrudgingly gets out of bed, barely staving off a flinch after his feet touch the cold hardwood floor, and heads straight for the kitchen. Ugh.

The hum of the rice cooker keeps him company as he sets the table. Team assignments today at the academy…

Chopsticks are halfway toward his mouth when it finally hits him. Akira grunts in displeasure. Fuuuuuuuck.

With a sigh the dishes are placed in the sink and he sets off toward the bathroom with clothes having been picked out the night prior.

After a bath with unscented soap, supplies are double checked before Akira finally gets dressed. It's not a big deal. The next move that we make just depends on whom I'm placed with. No pressure.

He takes the time to brush his hair, carefully working through a stubborn tangle. He contemplates whether or not to use hair barrettes. Fucking hidden villages.

It's not as though he didn't spend most of the night coming up with contingency plans in case the team assignments are less than ideal. Just think of this as a deep undercover simulation. I'm sure that the League has to deal with stuff like this all the time. Akira pauses at the thought, hair brush stilled in his hand as his mind drifts to his ultimate goal. His reflection in the mirror narrows his eyes. Yep, Konoha is still just a pit stop until I fulfill the mission.

With a final flick of his wrist the hair brush is put away and Akira gazes at his reflection once more. He runs a hand through his long bangs. I need a trim soon.

Akira moves on before the family shrine to offer a prayer before heading toward the genkan. He places his hand on the doorknob as he sighs before readjusting himself. His visage shifts toward something more lethargic. Akira finally leaves the house to meet up with fellow academy graduate Fuki.

The usual routine for the last nine months out of the year for the past six years is already broken as Fuki is practically buzzing with excitement. "Are you ready for today?"

His mind still elsewhere, Akira nods. I'll have to send a message after I get my team.

"Stayed up all night watching movies I see." She playfully shoves Akira's arm.

Eyes mockingly narrow at Fuki's faux-knowing smile. Maybe I could ask for those things that I wanted too…

"I'm so excited about today! Aren't you? We finally get to leave the academy and get to go on missions! I finally have an excuse to quit working at the shop!"

It isn't long before Akira's attention wavers, focusing more on potential team placements. Belatedly realizing that Fuki was still talking, he discreetly tunes back into the kunoichi's one-sided conversation.

"…I just hope I'm on a team with him you know? He's so cool and smart and if we're on a team together, maybe he'll finally notice me! …Ugh, I must sound pathetic, still pining over a boy that doesn't give anyone the time of day…" Fuki turns her dark brown gaze towards her silent best friend. "You're so lucky you're in a different class Akira, you have way less distractions."

Akira forgoes a verbal reply and instead pats Fuki's spiky maroon hair, making her smile.

"Thanks Akira. You always know how to make me feel better!" She grabs Akira's hand and begins to speed up. "Come on, we don't want to be late!"

Akira didn't have the heart to tell her that they were nearly an hour early; half an hour early to be placed with teammates whom they would eventually kill alongside with. Gods I hate this country.

January 3, 138 A.F. 7:15 a.m. MAGT – Hidden Continent; Fire Country; Konohagakure no Sato; Ninja Academy

The pair had parted ways in front of their respective classrooms when Fueno Daikoku of graduating class 138-3 said that there was a sudden change of plans. That was how Akira found himself sitting in the teacher's lounge before the sensei of graduating class 138-1, a kind Chunin by the name of Umino Iruka.

The awkward tension is almost palpable as the man is going to great lengths to be as appeasing as possible. His mouth is moving almost unnaturally as he tries to speak as clearly and concisely as he can. "I can understand if you're upset about this, of being put in a lower class."

Akira tries to keep his temper in check, outwardly sighing in response. Of fuckingcourse…

Class 138-1 is made up of an impressive bunch made up of several clan heirs. It's obvious to most that they're going to be marketed to clients as the faces of the new generation. The problem is that while the students of class 138-1 are decent and full of untapped potential, they're also unremarkable. Due to the quantity of high profile students, rather than having been pushed to their limits, the students are molded to be able to perform their skills as adequately as one can in the battlefield without outright sabotage. Any other skills and attributes are learned outside of the academy and are taken care of by the students' respective clans, if they have one.

This is not the case for Akira's class, for the students of class 138-3. A group made up of orphans, branch members, and the occasional minor clan heir, they have no one willing to oppose to their stricter and more intensive training more appropriate for war times. They have nothing tangible to show for it either, the results of their class examinations are never posted along with the other classes'. They generally keep to themselves, refusing to interact with the students of the other two classes of their year. They know that they're the ones most likely to die on the field protecting someone of higher status, the cannon fodder.

Or they'll end up sitting behind a desk, and unless there's a war they might actually make it to retirement which was what Akira was counting on. This really changes things.

Iruka looks hesitant. "Are you alright Akira-kun?"

Akira nods. If it weren't for the overwhelming sense of disappointment mixed with discomfort, Akira might've laughed. It seems Grandfather really wants to make this as difficult as possible.

Iruka looks at the dissatisfied Genin with something akin to sympathy. "We didn't get notice of Sakura-san's recruitment into the Cryptanalysis team until late last night, so we've had to find a replacement student for what would have been her team. Fortunately Daikoku-sensei's class had an extra student." He notices his words can be misconstrued and immediately backtracks, "not that you were the extra and that Daikoku-sensei wanted to get rid of you! If anything, he was pretty annoyed that we picked you."

The man's nervous laughter does nothing to appease Akira's mood, but at least it does confirm his thoughts. Granny really isn't going to like this, I already know I hate this.

"Yes you were picked because we thought that you would be the most compatible with the other potential Genin teams," he misses Akira raising a brow at his wording. Iruka sighs and scratches his cheek. "Akira-kun, I know that it's sudden for anyone in your situation but I'm sure that you'll do fine. Plus I've received your file and I'm well aware that you're…" Iruka does not want to admit that he's unnerved by the way a potential Genin stares at him, awaiting judgment. "Yes, I'm well aware of your condition."

Akira's fingers thread through his short auburn locks as he resolutely nods. "Ah." At least I'll get to graduate with Fuki, such a minuscule silver lining.

"I'll be sure to inform your Jonin sensei as well, provided that he isn't late of course." He laughs, prompting Akira who had stopped paying attention to laugh as well. "Now then, I just have to get the updated list of teams and then we can make our way toward the class."

Akira nods once again and shivers once Iruka turns his back, getting a foreboding sense of things to come. Gods, I am so fucked.