May 13, 5 AK
I could hardly tear my gaze from the piercing blue sky of early summer, the world leant a dreamy neon edging by the blistering white sunlight and the haze of endorphins rushing through my head.
Marginal. My pass was marginal, but I made it, by the skin of my teeth and judicious use of my Sharingan. I was probably in the bottom ten percent of the graduating class, actually, but I did graduate, and after only one year in the academy, a fact which filled me anew with a fierce and predatory joy every time I remembered it.
I was reminded of the old joke.
What do you call a doctor that barely passed his MCATs?
A doctor.
Even with a slim pass, I still passed. I was now part of squad 19, with two older children who I had never heard of and a Jounin sensei who's name I didn't catch, floating as I was in the haze of euphoric relief at my hard won success.
I took a breath and shook my head clear of distracting emotions, refocusing on the present and my team.
No. I mustn't think of them like that, as faceless no ones. They need to matter to me. I need to love them. And then, they needed to die. KIA, of course, for Itachi would never forgive such betrayal of the Will of Fire. Just… well. It happened. The mortality rates for newly minted Genin were atrocious, even in peacetime. I didn't need to do anything precipitous, just let nature run its course. But it had to hurt, to awaken the Mangekyou, which meant I needed to care for them. And the first step to that was getting them to like me.
Curse you shortsighted antisocial tendencies! What do children even do when they aren't training?
"Hi, uh, sorry, I was kind of distracted when they were doing team assignments. I'm Hiroki, Uchiha Hiroki, it's nice to meet you. What are your names?"
The girl gives me a slightly put upon look as if I'm already intentionally trying to drag her down with my youth and short stature, the wild spikes of her auburn hair bristling from her hooded leather jacket as her head jerks slightly in acknowledgement, and her frown pulling at the small clan markings on her cheeks and setting her yellowed eyes to glinting.
"Inuzuka Nikkei. This is my ninken Kenji."
The small brown dog gives a yip of hello. The other boy on the team just looks a little bit sleepy, well tanned face relaxed and eyelids half closed over pale green orbs, but he gives me a small wave of acknowledgment, the motion barely shifting the longsleeved amber shirt he wore over cornflower blue pants.
"Yo. I'm Shimura Wasabi. Sup?"
I carefully school my expression to avoid blinking in surprise at the name. I had known intellectually Danzo must have had a clan, but I hadn't expected to meet any of them, and certainly not anticipated being on the same squad as one. I smiled politely back towards the shaven headed boy, making sure to crinkle the corner of my eyes so it looked natural, covering the momentary lull in conversation with a little cough.
"Ahh, any relation to Shimura Danzo perchance? Advisor to the Sandaime?"
Wasabi raised an eyebrow at the name drop but nodded a positive.
"Yeah; my uncle's cousin or something like that. Don't see him much of course, he's a busy guy."
I nod pleasantly, my hair shifting slightly from the unexpected weight of my brand new forehead protector.
"I can imagine. It is much the same in my family; father is a tokubetsu Jounin and since he has the Sharingan he spends a lot of time outside of the village."
Nikkei sniffs irritably, leaning back a bit in her chair to look down her nose at me.
"My dad's a full Jounin. Front line combat, one of the strongest ninken partnerships in a century!"
I blinked, slightly taken aback by her aggressive posture, but I make a recovery soon enough, offering up another slightly bland smile.
"Oh wow! That's impressive! I hope I get to meet him one day, he's sounds really cool. I wish I had a partner I could rely on like that!"
My kunoichi teammate smirked quizzically at me in slightly nonplussed condescension but seemed pleased at my flattery regardless, even though she clearly expected more arrogance from an Uchiha. Wasabi gave her an unimpressed look, but before the laconic boy could say anything to disturb her I asked him another question.
"What about you Wasabi-san? Does your clan have any cool techniques?"
People always like to talk about themselves, it's a near universal failing of humans. Even people who describe themselves as shy or introverted like talking about themselves for you are always the most important thing as far as your brain is concerned.
My teammate proves this by sitting up a little and smiling a bit at my show of interest.
"Oh, yeah. It's not a Bloodline or anything, but the Shimura hold the summoning contract of the Tapir Clan, and we're all really good at nature transformations. Check it out!"
He concentrated on a kunai pulled from a pocket, and after a moment it began to waver with faint heat lines. I whistled appreciatively, and even Nikkei seemed reluctantly impressed. It was a pretty decent feat for a rookie Genin, at least one who wasn't named Itachi or Kakashi.
We ended up waiting for a fairly long while for our sensei to arrive, and I tried to keep up a low level of small talk and mild flattery in the hopes of building up a little team spirit. We'd have to be extraordinarily unlucky to get somebody touting around an exam as difficult for a new team as the bell test was, but there was almost certainly going to be some form of examination from our new sensei and teamwork was a major virtue in Konoha; it couldn't hurt to start generating an air of camaraderie.
When the door finally opened, I was actually in a pretty good mood, despite myself. Wasabi had a very dry sense of humor, and liked slipping in a bit of innuendo to see Nikkei flush. She of course denied that he was making her uncomfortable, but her blazing blush said otherwise. I looked up to see who had entered and my smile became formaldehyde quality fixed as I took in the gravity defying mop of hair and slanted forehead protector.
Kakashi blinked at us placidly.
"My first impression of you guys… idiots."
. . .
As I followed my teammates and sensei to the roof my smile remained as genuine as I could fake, which was pretty genuine indeed, but inside my head was spinning and my feet felt like lead weights as they tread on the cement steps.
Did the universe actually want me to die? It had always seemed like hyperbole, a lie to keep me motivated, a challenge from the cosmos themselves to which I replied with a scream of defiance. But this…
Was I in hell? Or maybe purgatory? Being punished for the sins of a past life? To have almost-chances dangled before me, only to be tugged away at the last moment; It seemed unreasonably cruel to go about it in this way. I loved my mother, and she was going to die. What had she ever done? Why? Just… why?
This was not the Kakashi of Naruto's time. This was not the Kakashi who had more than a decade of life in ANBU to work through the pain of losing his sensei and surrogate family. It was even odds we were the first Genin team he was going to evaluate, fair chance that the mere sight of fresh faced kids filled him with disgust and self-loathing. His face was blank, but was that a trace of hostility I saw? I couldn't quite stop my cheek from twitching as I carefully maintained the cheerful and attentive facade.
I would fail the bell test. The only teams that passed did so on luck; it was an idiotic testing method for children who had never met each other before and had no hardening against psychological warfare. I would fail, and then I would die. Genin who failed their sensei's exam faced one of two options: either bounced back to the academy for another year, or joining the Genin pool. The pool was a dead end; without proper training from an experienced ninja scraping a promotion to Chunin would take years, at best. The academy wouldn't work either, I didn't have time to waste in that den of mediocrity for another year.
I felt a sort of surreal calm settle on me as the pristine white clouds drifted overhead. This was it then. I was going to die because of… heh, luck of the draw. Once more. It sort of lent credence to the theory that this was hell: there were so many things that might have gone differently that would have made life easier. If I was a year older I wouldn't have to worry as much. If I was a year younger, I could maybe beg for mercy, or at least live knowing that it was utterly futile to even try. Save myself the effort of working my fingers to the bone on the training posts almost every night for five years straight.
Hatake gave his non introduction, and the muscles of my jaw tightened imperceptibly.
No.
I hadn't worked this long and this hard just so this angsty asshole could give me yet another death sentence. I hadn't let that fucking Chunin instructor kill me with his 'average' evaluation; I would be damned if this social cripple did it with his indifference.
He must have heard my teeth grinding, for his attention fell on me; half lidded, bored gaze definitely becoming a trifle cool as he looked me over.
"Why don't we start with you Smiles?"
My face stretched wider in reflexive response, before I experienced a frozen moment of panic. What should I say?
"Hey there! My name's Uchiha Hiroki. I like…" my mother, no, don't say that, idiot, "trees!" Nice. Moron. " ...and dango!"
There, that was normal enough.
"I dislike people who betray their friends."
Okay, weird looks, might be coming on a bit too heavy there.
"My hobbies are training and… um... cat, watching?"
Skeptical looks from the Inuzuka and Dog summoner. Brilliant fucking job.
"My dream for the future is to survive to my twelfth birthday and to be an asset for the village!"
Fuck it, might as well go all in. Cue vaguely disturbed looks from my fellow Genin and the continuation of the flat, apathetic stare from my Jounin sensei.
Kakashi blinked languidly.
"...Uh huh. Alrighty then, Mutt, how bout you?"
I shivered slightly at the sudden release of tension as we shifted our collective attention onto what Nikkei had to say. That was awful. Worse, it was counterproductive to survival.
Pity was the death of cooperation. If my teammates thought I was too weak they would never play out the bell test as it had to be done, they wouldn't want me to pass, 'for my own good'. Intolerable. I had to act fast.
When Kakashi left us with the admonition to not eat breakfast before the test tommorow I immediately turned to my two teammates.
"Hey, how's about we get a little practice in before we all head home? I know he said we should rest up for tomorrow, but a little spar to keep our skills sharp can't hurt, right? And it'll help us get a better sense of how each of us can fit in on the team. Even if we haven't passed the test yet, we can still see if we work out together."
Wasabi yawned hugely.
"I think I'll pass."
My smile became slightly brittle.
"Ah, come on, what, scared to get beaten by an eight year old?"
I put a bit of laugh into it to keep the tone light. Too light, apparently.
"Oh you know it. I wouldn't want to be so shamed in front of a pretty lady like Nikkei-chan."
He hopped off the roof and began making his way off across the rooftops of the village. I felt my last ergs of hope trickling away but I turned to Nikkei anyway, an inquisitive, hopeful expression on my face.
"Nah, I got some stuff to do. Want to be really prepared for whatever Hatake-sensei has planned for us. You should probably go home too, you've been twitchy all day. An early night will do you good, shortstuff."
My smile remained fixed on my face as my last ditch attempt at survival fled into the late afternoon, the expression growing ever harsher as the light began to fade, distended shadows throwing my features into jagged relief.
Fine. If they wouldn't help me, I'd just have to help them even harder to make up for it.
. . .
"Hey guys! I made bentos, in case things end up going a little late. I brought some little snacks too; I asked my mom and she pointed out that technically we just don't want to overeat before a heavy workout, but having something light in your stomach can help keep you going."
Nikkei blinked at me in surprise as I presented the garishly wrapped orange and yellow packages, but Wasabi nodded appreciatively.
"Cool. I thought the same way, actually; I had a few pieces of fruit for breakfast."
I gave him a big smile and turned to Nikkei with a slightly hopeful look, a protein bar extended. She huffed in irritation but grabbed the snack from me anyway, ripping into it aggressively.
"Disobeying orders already?"
Fuck. He wasn't supposed to be here for at least another hour. Big smiles.
"Well Hatake-sensei, you didn't order us not to eat, you just advised we'd probably throw up if we did. I assume this was part of the assessment as we'd only throw up if we ate improperly, not if we ate at all."
A flat stare, single grey eye blinking slowly in the exposed wedge of skin.
"Hmm. Well. I suppose we might as well get started then."
Two bells. Two winners. One loser. I saw Nikkei and Wasabi give me sidelong looks, but I kept smiling, crinkled eyes and all. Kakashi didn't seem to buy it. There were faint lines under his visible eye that spoke of long nights and hard choices, the green of his flak jacket scuffed and worn from heavy use, and I could once more feel the creeping sensation of death getting closer.
My smile just grew more teeth.
The team split the moment he said go, and I made an effort to be as quiet as possible approaching Nikkei where she was hid in the brush.
"Pst! Hey, I think this might be a trick. You ever hear about two person Genin teams?"
She scowled at me and made little shooing motions.
"Jounin's rules. Besides, he might be planning on taking the winners as apprentices."
I gave her a skeptical look in return.
"Two at once? Aren't apprenticeships usually on an individual basis?"
"You two talk too much."
I activated a Replacement, but there was a fist already in position at my arrival point. Only a flicker of Sharingan saved me from a blow which would have knocked the wind out of me; as it was I barely managed to get my arms up in time to absorb some of the hit. I would likely have my share of bruises in the morning.
I gave Kakashi my flattest smile as I massaged the backs of my forearms, basically just showing him teeth. He's a dog, he'll figure it out.
"You're a Jounin, sensei, if you can't detect our chakra signatures from a hundred meters, I'll eat my forehead protector. I certainly don't know how to hide my chakra, and I don't think my teammates do either. So stealth is irrelevant unless you deliberately handicap yourself. A proposition which seems unlikely, as you instructed us to come at you with intent to kill."
Another flat stare. This is not good. I'm not sure what's real, what I'm misreading, what I'm projecting, and what is merely comparison to a half-remembered future. Kakashi used to be lazy, not indifferent, an affectation of unconcern over a core of warm affability. The Kakashi of Team Seven was a little silly, a little carefree, a little more… secure. This Kakashi is…
I don't know.
I know in canon this team didn't pass. That begs the question of why Team Seven did pass. They barely showed any teamwork. Nepotism? Firm instruction from the Hokage? A sense of camaraderie with that particular team: elite loner, ditzy girl, struggling deadlast that wants to be Hokage? Was success even possible here, or was his judgment already passed, the weight of memory still too heavy on his shoulders for a new team?
I hadn't been idle while I pondered. I had gotten in a few good… attempted hits with Nikkei and Wasabi. But not both of them together. They seemed to believe, probably correctly, that their victory against me was assured, however that just meant they were in competition with each other and I was only able to help one of them out at a time, alternating between them as best I could to help make openings and exploit their suicidal charges.
I caught my breath for a second near the edge of the clearing as I quickly scanned the treeline for my teammates, shoving aside the growing ache of chakra exhaustion. Wasabi was going to try another futile trap; useless, as fire element charged kunai aren't any faster or less subtle than the ordinary sort. Nikkei was being overly direct again; she trusted her ninken, but the Inuzuka learn pair tactics first, not groups. She overextended in her strike and another heavy sweeping kick was coming towards her back; she couldn't really weather another bad hit like that.
The Substitution was sloppy, spur of the moment, and left me disoriented for long enough that I didn't block the kick meant for Nikkei. I slammed into a tree on the side of the field hard enough I could feel my ribs creak and my breath was forced out in a woosh carrying with it a spray of blood from my busted lips.
The buzzer rang.
Kakashi stared at me for a long moment as I tried to get my breath back.
"Disappointing."
. . .
I ended up tied to the stump, but honestly I needed it. I didn't trust myself to stay upright without the ropes.
"You better not share any of your food with Hiroki, he's being punished for being so reckless."
Kakashi disappeared in a swirl of leaves, and the soon to be stillborn Squad 19 was left alone on the quiet training ground.
I stared vacantly at the obsidian memorial stone across the field, brain ticking over without direction.
At least my name would be recorded there, probably. I wasn't a hundred percent on what the protocol was for ninja who died in the line of duty, but in their civilian capacity. Maybe. Probably not. It probably wouldn't hurt too much, Itachi was very skilled, very fast; I'd never even notice the blow coming at this skill level, just walking along one day and…
I blinked and the sound of someone talking to me finally registered.
"Why did you do that?! I could have handled it! You're just a kid, you got really hurt!"
I sighed apathetically and let my head thunk against the training post, eyes pointed at the yelling Inuzuka but unfocused.
"And? Age is irrelevant, only skill matters. I'm the least skilled member of the team. I should always be first in the line of fire to protect you and Wasabi."
The aforementioned boy grimaced as his name came up, mouth pulling down at the corners in sour disagreement.
"Don't be stupid. You're eight, you graduated four years early, you're a prodigy."
I shook my head slowly, eyes still focused on the future and the swirling red and black that would herald the end of Hiroki. My reply was monotone.
"No. I checked the exam results. I scored in the bottom 5 for our class. Yeah, I graduated, but my overall skill level is lower than either of yours. That's how they balance the teams: Rookie of the year, Kunoichi of the year, Deadlast. Me. Graduating early means you are skilled for your age, not that your absolute ability is actually notable when compared to others."
"Shut up!"
I didn't respond as Nikkei got up in my face, the sound of screams echoing in my ears as I turned my thoughts on mother, her face covered in blood and eyes blank pits. Dead. All dead, futile effort, spitting into the wind...
"That's not true and you know it! You graduated before most kids even start playing with kunai, you deserve that headband! When sensei gets back we'll get that stupid bell!"
The bento was thrust into my face and I blinked uncomprehendingly at it. She jiggled it imperatively at me as I continued to stare apathetically at the steaming rice. Wasabi scowled and moved up to offer me some of his as well, spearing a dumpling on a chopstick and pushing it towards my face.
"You need to eat if you're going to be any use. You've been running yourself ragged helping both of us out this whole time and you've already got less stamina, you need the energy more than we do."
I couldn't help it. My face fell a little as the despair began to well up beyond my strained ability to control.
"You'll get in trouble."
Nikkei snorted contemptuously, head flicking to the side.
"If that asshole wants to fail us for trying to take care of our teammate then he can suck it. I'd rather be a Genin forever than a jerk like him."
Wasabi frowned at the wording, but nodded his own agreement with her statement.
There is a puff of chakra and Kakashi is present. He stares at us for a long moment in silence before something flickers through his eyes too fast for me to catch.
"You pass."
No food ever tasted so sweet as the lunch I shared with my new team.
. . .
A/N: Nice and long, with a few lighter bits cause unrelieved tension is tiring. Having an adult brain is helpful, but even that won't fix a simple lack of aptitude or practice.