Chapter One

Posterity

"Omoide… Omoide, pay attention!" The boy in question blinked rapidly, looked up from his newest literary conquest (a large, old, leather-bound volume) and adjusted the old green goggles on his forehead. A few other students chuckled. "What? Sorry, I'm really getting into this one, Tenten-sensei." The teaching kunoichi's eyes narrowed. Her student's excuse wasn't unusual, but that didn't make it any less annoying. 'It's amazing how he manages to be exactly like his father, yet completely different at the same time.'

"Omoide, I appreciate a good book as much as the next person, but I really need you to look up and pay attention." The boy frowned, but put away his book and rested his chin on his hands. Paying attention wasn't his forte, especially when he knew he could be reading about something far more interesting than old political disputes with Iwagakure. Honestly, sometimes it was like history was just a series of big men trying to kill each other for no good reason.

He looked around as Tenten launched back into her lecture. The class around him was going through the usual motions: Hiruzen was sitting next to him in his usual tiger-orange t-shirt and camouflage-patterned shorts, taking notes like a man possessed, clearly hanging on to every word their teacher said. A few other kids were following suit, though with markedly less enthusiasm. Some girls in a corner were whispering and giggling; altogether, it was a highly uneventful school day. 'I bet Enro is having a lot of fun right now. There's still so much snow outside...'

Omoide sighed and put his head down on his arms, staring off into space. 'Let's see, sensei probably won't assign extra homework this close to the final exam, so I'll have some extra time to kill later. I could swing by Ichiraku's. Maybe I should work on my project, the release locus might need to be switched out…'

Tenten continued to talk as Omoide contemplated the possibilities of that afternoon. His "Super-Secret, Extra Awesome Project of Epicness" as he sometimes referred to it, was his first foray into original fuuinjutsu, an art he'd discovered about a year earlier. The seal he had made was, in his humble opinion, so awesome that he was surprised nobody had thought of it before. True, it might have led to some peasant insurrections if loosed upon a less prosperous or free country, but he doubted that would be a problem in Hi no Kuni these days.

It was the kind of mental debate he could get into for hours on end, never really drawing a conclusion, but never getting tired of the contemplation either. Tenten clearing her throat loudly cut his pondering short however.

"Alright, before I dismiss you all for the day, I have a few words to say. I know all of you are excited for the final exam. Some of you might be scared; others might be cocky and overly sure of themselves. To both I can safely say get over it. One of the central skills of a shinobi is to calm and limit emotions. Self-control is essential to your survival in the field. If you pass this exam, the lives of you and your teammates may depend on your adherence to this and the other shinobi principles."

She paused for a second, smirking to herself. "Also, they're on the written exam, so you have to know them anyway." There was a large collective groan from the class and Tenten rattled off several other announcements regarding when and how they would be tested. Omoide glared at the blackboard, intent on his thoughts and not paying attention to much of anything else. He knew one thing for sure: he would pass this test and when he did, he'd pass it harder than it had ever been passed or would ever be passed again. Then maybe he'd be something more than that poor, poor Uzumaki boy.

-G

As he stared down at the gory, scattered remains of his latest victim, Sasuke couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he'd gone overboard this time. His hand tingled a bit as the last remnants of the Chidori faded away. With a strangely satisfied inner grimace, he pulled out a storage scroll from a pouch on his blood-splattered ANBU uniform and emptied a large amount of oil onto the remains before pushing up his mask and blowing a small but highly concentrated fire jutsu and setting it ablaze. Soon, there would be nothing but ashes left. He pulled out a slip of paper and channeled chakra into the seal spread across the relatively small space. With a flick of his wrist, it joined the mangled body in the blaze. 'Mission accomplished.'

It was strange what things still stuck with him to this day. Every time he killed, he could feel that strange tingle at the back of his mind, the feeling that he had just proven his superiority. It had taken ten years to get it even that far from the forefront and the last two had been a nightmare just relearning real self-control. This time, his grimace was physical; psychotherapy was most definitely not his idea of a good way to pass the time.

Quickly recomposing his emotionless face behind his dragon-patterned ANBU mask, the last Uchiha glanced out the window and narrowed his dimly glowing sharingan eyes. His target -Kemonokaze Lee- hadn't been especially powerful, at least combat-wise: he'd known some chakra manipulation and a few basic ninjutsu. The main danger he posed was as a leader; any warmonger with political influence was a potential problem and a threat to the peace now so tenuously enjoyed by the nations of the world, shinobi and otherwise. Worse, he was from Tsuchi no Kuni, which had always been one of the most war-prone nations.

Sasuke snapped himself out of his reverie and spotted an unguarded point on the wall of the would-be warlord's fortress. With a quick gesture, he shunshined there, reveling in the feel of the cool night air as his body changed partially into chakra, speeding his movement to near-instantaneous levels. He glanced around to make sure he hadn't been spotted and without any further delay, flipped over the wall's crenellations and sprinted down the side before triggering a doton ninjutsu and digging underground, his escape tunnel disappearing behind him. A few minutes late and about a mile out from the large stone building, he reappeared and swiped some dirt off of his ANBU uniform.

Tenzo looked up at Sasuke's emergence, but stayed relaxed, leaning against a tree. "You know, I think that may be a new record." Sasuke frowned, unused to any banter between him and his "parole officer" as Tenzo sometimes referred to himself. The sometimes-creepy wood-user was most often a stoic presence, watchful but not especially involved. Sasuke had been both thankful and annoyed by the distance between him and one of the few people he interacted with on a usual basis. Much as he had always valued his privacy, he couldn't stay a recluse if he planned to someday change the village -and hopefully the world- for the better.

"You know, I consider myself a good shinobi. It's my only real skill; I've never known anything else. I've only ever asked not to take a job once in my life and that was when I found out I was supposed to be looking after you." Sasuke raised an eyebrow behind his mask, but didn't comment; he had figured as much.

"I had you pegged for the egomaniacal type, but when I saw how screwed up you really were over Naruto's death, I realized I had taken you at face value." Sasuke narrowed his eyes under his mask; Naruto was still a sore subject, even after 12 years. "Where are you going with this, Yamato?"

The wood-user took off his mask and rubbed the sides of his nose, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. "I guess what I'm saying is… I'm sorry I judged you on your reputation. You've been nothing but a good operative these past few years."

Sasuke returned the courtesy of taking off his mask and turned a tired stare on his guard. "Thanks… It's good to know there's another person who doesn't hate me in the world…" An awkward silence settled and they both put their masks back on. With a nod, they stood up and took to the trees, dashing off for home.

-G

The battle was pitched and seemingly chaotic. Soldiers fought and fell and strategies crumbled like a dirt hill after a hard rain. All the same, it was nearing the same inevitable conclusion as always.

"And… Checkmate." Shikamaru smirked slightly as Hiruzen's eyes darted across the Shogi board, trying to find his king some way out of its predicament. With a sigh and a hung head, he gave up; he was smirking sadly. "I'll beat you someday, Shikamaru-oji." Really, it was a wonder he'd lasted as long as he had; Shikamaru's intellect was legendary even for a Nara and he'd always refused to go easy on the boy. A lack of challenge would do nothing but make him soft as far as the Nara Clan Head was concerned.

Omoide looked up and studied the board for a second, head quirked thoughtfully. "That was a nice one Nara-san. Risky." He was sitting slightly off to the side, with his nose stuck into a book as per usual.

"So, you all will be graduating soon." Hiruzen's expression visibly brightened. "Yeah, I can't wait! I'll finally be a real shinobi, like my dad!" Shikamaru's smirk became something of a tired smile. Hiruzen could practically see the memories playing behind the Nara shinobi's eyes whenever he got that expression. He'd noticed that with a lot of people.

"I still remember my graduating class: one of the biggest batches of crazy I've ever seen in one place…" Omoide's gaze promptly dropped back to his book. He'd never been much for nostalgic stories of the days before the War. They usually somehow involved or mentioned his father and quite frankly, he'd heard enough about the guy to last a lifetime.

Luckily, Shikamaru didn't stay on the subject. "By the way, who's at the top of the class this year?" Omoide frowned. "It's a tie between Hyuga Shinsei and Yokoana Kengen. I think they're hoping for a tie-breaker on the written portion." The older shinobi raised an eyebrow. "Two students tied for first? I don't think that's happened since before I graduated. Anyone else interesting?"

Omoide frowned again. "Not really. There's Shirogane from the Inuzuka and Hiro from the Yamanaka, but beside that, it's pretty much your average civilian-borns and a few kids from minor clans." Shikamaru smirked. "I wouldn't dismiss civilian-borns so easily. Your grandfather was one and look at how he turned out." Omoide rolled his eyes, clearly less than convinced. "Yeah, we'll see, I guess."

Hiruzen and Shikamaru set the board up again and Omoide turned back to his book. After a few minutes, he checked his watch and his eyes widened. "Oh, damn, it's almost six. I should get going; you know how Mom can get." Hiruzen's normally jovial expression momentarily lost its flare at the mention of Omoide's mother. With a respectful nod to the Nara and a short fist bump to his Sarutobi friend, Omoide got up, threw on his black and blue jacket and walked out the door, closing it firmly behind him. The one man and one almost-shinobi left in the room turned back to their game, happy to sit and play, the only sound the slight taps of pieces being moved across the Shogi board.

-G

"Hey, Mom, I'm home!" Omoide turned around and closed the door against the cold before wiping excess snow off of his shoes and dumping his backpack onto a chair. His house wasn't spectacularly big, but it was much better than most of the apartments around town. It was two floors with a kitchen/dining/living room on the first and three bedrooms on the second, one for Omoide, another for his mother and a guest room in the back.

"Omoide, there you are!" Hinata Hyuga walked briskly into the entryway and hugged her son, smiling a bit. "I was starting to get worried, you know I don't like it when you go to Hiruzen's house without asking." Omoide averted his gaze, but returned the hug. "Sorry, mom, I forgot." Hinata turned a long-suffering smile on her son. "It's okay, just try to remember next time. Dinner should be ready in a half hour or so. I assume you want to work on your project?" Omoide nodded. "Yeah, it's really starting to come along now." The Ex-Hyuga Heiress smiled warmly. "Good, I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Omoide gave a slight smile back at his mother and turned to walk up the stairs to his room. It was a small, barely organized thing; roughly square with a small area where the wall went outward. A bookshelf was wedged into the indentation, filled with a good deal more books than it was probably designed to hold. They were varied, from children's picture books to large tomes that no child under the age of fourteen should have even been able to touch.

In another corner was his bed, once again small, but not to any extreme. A bed-stand next to it was piled high with even more books along with a small lamp. Finally, a disheveled-looking wooden desk occupied the opposite corner, covered in partially rolled scrolls and writing supplies from ink to pencils.

But what really interested Omoide was the diagram in the center of the desk. On it were several very well drawn perspectives of a human arm with seals running the length of it. With a tired sigh, he pulled out his chair, sat down and pulled uot a pencil. 'Right, so the release locus…'

And that's it, that's a wrap, people; the first chapter, finally done. Hope you liked it. Note: My description of shunshin here is not necessarily canon; it's just how I figure it would work considering it's not an instantaneous teleportation technique. Also, a digital cookie goes to anyone who can spot the Avatar: The Abridged Series reference in this chapter.

Translations (Please don't come down on me too hard for any crazy screw-ups; my tools are rather limited):

Omoide: According to Google Translate, this means memories.

Enro: This means long road or journey, once again according to Google Translate.

Kemonokaze: As close as I can figure, this means beast-wind.

Shinsei: New birth, rebirth.

Yokoana: Cave, tunnel.

Shirogane: Silver