Ever since I learned to speak fluently, I became very vocal around my birthday. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of my first, which saddled me with baggage that I had only just managed to shake. And that was ignoring Iwao's father, whose interest I'd attracted in a bad way. I hadn't caught any unwanted watchers, but they would have to be pretty bad at their job for someone like me to be able to notice them.
All that was to say I protested vehemently every time anyone (Akane-obasan) made mention of a party. And I could be very persuasive.
So, like my last two, my fourth birthday was a quiet affair. Akane-obasan made my favorite chicken katsu and plum sauce, and Kazuhiro was apparently in a position to ask for a day of leave finally.
Our little family enjoyed the calm meal, and the house was quiet but for the occasional interruption of Akane-obasan's inane chatter. Over the years, she's made peace with our "comfortable silences," and took it upon herself to carry her own conversation. Sometimes it was annoying, but not today. I took a modicum of comfort in it, and I think Kazuhiro did too.
As she settled into silence, I decided to speak up.
"I would like to enroll in the academy this coming term. I'm ready."
I hadn't mentioned the prospect until this very moment, and I certainly hadn't spoken of Sexy-sensei's offer. My god-brother didn't know about my weekly swimming sessions, as I didn't want him to know I'd gone behind his back and broke his trust.
"Oh, I think that's a wonderful idea!" My wonderfully stupid aunt exclaimed. "You've always been so far ahead of people your age—this might be a great way for you to bond and make friends!"
Of course that's all she cared about. But since she was on my side, I didn't bother to point out that the difference in mental maturity between a four-year-old and a five-year-old wasn't all that great.
"I don't know, Kasaiki-chan," Kazuhiro said hesitantly. "I have concerns."
"What concerns?" I asked diplomatically.
"Well, physical development for one," he said, predictably. "Everyone else in the academy will have up to two years of growth on you. Don't get me wrong—for your age, your conditioning is top notch. And your taijutsu growth has been extremely impressive as well. But as you know, it requires an even greater price for victory. I'm worried you could get seriously hurt."
"Waiting an extra year won't help me out much in that department," I pointed out. "And I don't think anyone I'll be sparring in the academy will be able to pack nearly as much of a punch as you."
"That's…true," he admitted. "But that doesn't change the fact that your constitution isn't as advanced as your peers' will be. The exercises you'll be made to do were created with five-year-olds in mind. I know that a year doesn't seem like that long, but for a child's early development, it might as well be a decade."
"I can do it," I insisted. "I'll do whatever's asked of me, no matter what."
Kazuhiro sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "That's what I'm afraid of. Kasaiki-chan, your willpower is second to none. It impresses me. But it also scares me. I'm worried that your mind will push you farther than your body can handle."
That was both incredibly insightful and right on the money. I could write a list of specific times I'd done just that, both in this life and the previous one.
"I understand, nii-san," I said to butter him up. "I know I have a problem with that. I'll try really hard to fix it. But I'd still really like to enter the academy early. It's just…something that I feel like I have to do."
He was silent for a long while, studying me like he often did. I wondered if he was seeing my father.
"Alright," he finally settled on. "If you say you're ready, you're ready. I trust you."
I could have leapt in joy, if I wasn't so tired. Though it was my birthday, I hadn't taken the day off in training.
"Thank you, nii-san!" I chirped, and his solemn stare almost broke into something more cheerful.
"It's not solely up to me, though," he warned. "To enroll into the academy early, you'll need a jonin patron to sign an application form. I'm moderately close with a couple, but I'm not sure they'll be willing to sponsor you. You might need to prove yourself to them."
"Nope, that's okay, nii-san," I said hurriedly. "You just get me the form, and I'll worry about the signature."
He raised an eyebrow. "And just how do you plan on doing that?"
I simply grinned. "What? I thought you trusted me."
"I do, but jonin aren't the type of people to fool around with," he said, gravely. "Some have senses of humor, and some really do not. Make sure your actions do not reflect poorly on yourself, or on me. These people could make or break our careers."
"I understand," I said more seriously. "Consider this another test, if you want. If I can get a jonin's signature, I should have no problem in the academy, right?"
He shook his head in bewilderment. "You're the weirdest kid I've ever met, imouto," he said, turning to Akane-obasan, who looked like she was about to cry in happiness at our sibling—nay, parental—bond. "Have you ever met a four-year-old who gives themselves tests?"
She gave a watery chuckle. "I've never met anyone like Kasaiki-chan in my whole life, four-years-old or forty."
I stuck my nose up in the air. "And don't you ever forget it."
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
The moment I heard the voices of Sexy-sensei's genin reverberate through the tunnels, I immediately stole myself and got into position. I hadn't swam at all in the half-hour I'd been here, because being soaked would have ruined the image I wanted to project.
Sexy-sensei led the group as always, but as she entered the cavern itself and saw me, she paused. Because I was standing to greet her, and not on solid ground. My arms were crossed, and I didn't try to hide the smug grin on my face.
"Is that supposed to impress me?" she asked in that same, bored tone.
"You said I couldn't do it by the time I turned four," I replied.
"And I stand by that," she said. Before I could protest, she had drawn a shuriken, and tossed it underhand at my feet. The flat of the instrument slapped the surface of the water, and I yelped as the surface tension was broken, plunging me into the lake.
I rose pissed off, using the stone ledge to pull myself up while shaking the water out of my hair like a wet dog.
"What was that for?" I shouted.
"If you can't deal with disturbances in the water, and if you can't move, you can't claim to be able to water walk," she stated. "Achieving stationary stability is the easy part—it's barely even stage one. Now, get me my shuriken. Those aren't to be wasted."
I gaped at the audacity. "Then why did you throw it at me?"
"Because you were being annoying," she answered. "Bragging can be useful, sometimes. But not if you can't back it up. Additionally, it was funny." Her eyes sharpened. "Get it, or I won't sign your form."
My grumbles were cut short as I dove deep into the dark water, searching for the shuriken by feel. The lake was quite deep, but this body's lung capacity had grown with all the time I spent down here. I wasn't forced to surface until I found the offending hunk of metal.
"Here," I muttered as I arose, finding that Sexy-sensei was already going through my bag. Fuck privacy or consent, I guess, but there wasn't much in there. Just a change of clothes, a towel and the most important folder I possessed.
She accepted the shuriken without even a thank you, and began to examine the text. Figures she wouldn't sign anything without reading it carefully first. Though apparently she was satisfied, because she filled out the bottom of the form without ceremony. I had examined the form myself earlier, and knew that I asked for the patron's name and shinobi ID number.
Wordlessly, she offered the packet back to me, and I learned her name for the first time.
"Thank you…Endo-sensei," I said with a smirk.
"I told you not to call me sensei, brat," she said cooly. "I haven't taught you anything."
"Maybe not directly," I countered. "But it was your motivation that led me to teach myself a whole lot of stuff. Plus, you gave me that hint about improving my taijutsu. I think I'll be able to stand up to any of my classmates now."
She blinked at me. "What hint?"
"You know," I said with a frown. "About how I can apply chakra exercises to compensate for my lack of size?"
She hummed. "Ah. I didn't have anything in mind when I said that. I just pegged you as the gullible, overthinking type that would put authority figures on a pedestal. I knew if I implied there was a hidden message, you would leave me alone and spend the next week or five dissecting my words until you found some meaning in them."
I'm pretty sure my face was purple. "You…I…what are…REALLY?"
"Why are you so angry?" she asked, infuriatingly. "You obviously got something from it."
"That's not the point!" I screeched, and everyone winced from the noise. Even me.
"You'll never be a good shinobi if you let your emotions take hold of you like this," she said, but I wasn't as gullible as she thought. You know what they say: fool me once, shame on you, fool me…fool me I can't get fooled again.
"You'll say whatever it takes to get me to shut up!" I accused. "I'm not going to take anything you say at face value any more."
Finally, the indifferent mask broke, and something almost resembling a smile crossed her face.
"Then maybe I did teach you something after all."
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
Yoshiro had been an academy sensei ever since he had disabled himself in the middle of the Second War. He hadn't had any other option; he was part of an offensive in the Land of Grass, and had run afoul of an allied contingency of Grass and Leaf nin.
He stayed back to hold them off as his peers finished the mission. His last resort, an A-rank fire jutsu that burned away his enemies along with his chakra coils, secured his team's success. Yoshiro hadn't expected to survive at all, so he readily accepted his retirement.
For all of twenty-four hours. Then the Tsuchikage requested—yes, requested, as Yoshiro was a jonin and a veritable war hero—that he take a post at the academy. Though he hadn't wanted to, he accepted.
That was eight years ago, now. In that time, he had learned to take pride in his role of honing the skills of Iwa's future soldiers. Some would be destined to die as fodder (though who knows, maybe the peace time would give them the opportunity to grow), but a small portion he knew would become his peers. Jonin, the elite.
A part of him enjoyed attempting to guess who those few would be. This current batch had several to keep an eye on. Katsuo and Katsumi, twins of the Konjiki clan. They wouldn't be spewing lava for quite some time, but the elders of their clan never slacked off in disciplining the younger generation.
Then there was Doi Hayato, a dark-haired kid with a sharp look in his eye. The Doi were a small clan, but their few members all made jonin. If they lived long enough, that was. They specialized in kenjutsu, which was a rarity in the Hidden Stone, and often worked as assassins.
Another was Ashikaga Takeo. She wasn't from a clan, but her father was a captain of the Red Ogres. In the same vein, Ishida Iwao was in this class. He was the son of Ishido Yuudai, one of the co-commanders of the Red Ogres. There was no way that man would let his son be anything less than exceptional.
And as always, there were the early enrollees. He had two this time, one being Ishimoto Eiji. His father was a jonin, so he didn't have to go very far to find a patron. Even Iwa wasn't devoid of nepotism. Perhaps he deserved it; Yoshiro wouldn't discount him just yet. Only time would tell.
The other was a dark horse. Imai Kasaiki, and if her name hadn't captured his attention, her application and dossier certainly did.
Both parents were retired jonin, just like he was. Slaughtered in the Fugatoro incident, which was a catalyst for Iwa's aggression towards Konoha. The youngest Imai was only a month old, but had been found and recovered by an emergency team led by Biwo of the Dust.
At the hospital, she was noted to have received few injuries at the time (though that would very much change over the years), aside from scarring to her vocal chords. Even then, she was noted to have "an unnatural stoicism and pain tolerance," and a "sensitivity to chakra."
Adopted by her teenage god-brother, she would later be admitted to the hospital for a variety of injuries. Yoshiro was no medic, but even he could tell that all of them were training related. Yet her guardians insisted that they followed a reasonable training program for her age. If they were to be believed, the girl was mostly self-taught, something corroborated by internal intelligence. Why the shadow organization was keeping tabs on her, he had no idea, but his curiosity was certainly piqued.
What truly solidified his interest was her patron, Endo Amuyu. Yoshiro knew her well; she had been a member of the team he was a part of during his last stand. She was only a chunin then, but had earned a field promotion in the wake of that mission. From her actions and the capabilities he witnessed, Yoshiro was more than certain that she deserved it.
If the kid impressed someone like Endo-san, there was something to her. Which is why he had paid his comrade a visit.
"Imai has the most raw potential I've ever seen in someone her age," she said bluntly, and Yoshiro had been taken aback by the surety in her tone. "Her internal chakra control surpasses anyone I've ever met, period. And I'm pretty sure she's figured out a way to manually increase her chakra reserves, and by a degree well surpassing what can be achieved with traditional training in such a short time."
"Her hospital records show she was admitted for a dysfunction in her Keimon, which had resulted in an overproduction of chakra," he offered, eyes narrowed.
"Interesting. Did they have to provide any treatment for it?" She asked.
He had memorized the dossier by habit, so he didn't need to search for the answer. "No, the issue had resolved itself by the time she went to the hospital. She even declined chakra letting."
"That was no accident or stroke of luck," Endo-san said without hesitation. "She induced that dysfunction in herself, and on purpose. I would stake an A-rank mission's pay on it."
That would be rather significant. Increasing one's chakra reserves was ordinarily something that took years of hard work, blood, sweat and tears.
"That's not the only reason I decided to be her patron either," she stated. "She has an unparalleled drive, and a level of focus that borders on obsession. She'll become one of the strongest shinobi in Iwagakure's history, as long as those same traits don't put her in an early grave."
The image presented by the girl before him didn't live up to Endo-san's hype. She stood out only because of how small she was, and how she ignored the other kids chatting around her.
She wore burgundy leggings that slightly resembled the pants a real Iwa shinobi would wear, with a pouch at her hip. Her top was brown, which, to him, was a statement all on its own. Brown assault vests were the hallmark of Iwa chunin and jonin, after all. It was sleeveless, revealing that both arms, from upper chest to fingertips, were wrapped in bandages. Not the kind that would denote an injury, but ones that were meant to act as padding and as a means to hide things.
The sharp look in her eye hinted at the nature Endo-san had described. But he wouldn't take someone else's word for it, even if said person was a trusted comrade. He would treat her like everyone else—perhaps even more harshly.
"Attention, future Iwagakure shinobi," he called, and the children wisely shut up. "I am the head instructor for your batch—batch sixty-seven—who you will refer to as Yoshiro-sensei. Though you might have teaching assistants and additional primary sensei for specialization classes, I will be responsible for the majority of your instruction, throughout the entire length of your time in the academy. If you are wise, you would do your damndest to prove yourselves to me, as I will be administering all of your crucial exams. In other words, I will be personally responsible for your futures."
"For those of you who were not told," he continued, satisfied by how the children were hanging onto his every word. "You will spend a maximum of thirteen semesters in the academy. Some will only need twelve, but all are given the option to repeat a single semester at your own discretion. It might be in your best interest to repeat a semester if you feel you need more time and more personal instruction to perfect a skill that is introduced. If you choose to do so, you will, of course, have to spend the rest of your schooling with another batch, and under another sensei."
He was using a lot of big words, he knew. A good portion wouldn't understand some of what he was telling them. But this was Iwagakure. He wouldn't simplify anything; they would learn or be left in the dust.
"This should go without saying, but your final exam will be cumulative and extremely comprehensive," he announced. "The results of that test will determine your future. The highest scoring of you will be assigned to a team with a jonin sensei—the exact number will depend on the amount of jonin willing and able to take you on at that time. The rest will be placed in the genin corp. Exceptions may be made at our discretion."
His eyes swept over the assembled students. "There are thirty-two of you in this batch, and unless some of you repeat a semester, thirty-two will take the final exam together. There will be no drop-outs; as of now, Iwagakure has invested time and resources in your development. You will repay her, for better or worse."
Yoshiro looked up to the sky. "Your path to becoming ninja begins here. But it doesn't end with graduation. Shinobi isn't a title that can be simply given by me, the Tsuchikage or even the Sage of Six Paths himself. It is a creed, a nindo, and an oath to protect your home and your people. Embody that, and you are a true shinobi, no matter what rank you wear."
A shadow fell over the academy courtyard, and Yoshiro took several steps backward.
"That being said, you have another speaker."
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
The long awaited day had finally arrived. The day I would join the Iwagakure academy and officially start learning to become a ninja. In the anime, the Konoha Academy was a joke, but I was pretty damn sure this would be different. It better be.
The building itself lent to this assumption. Unlike the Konoha Academy, which looked like a generic Florida community college, the Iwa academy building was extremely traditional, and could have been plucked straight out of the Edo period in Japan. There were three, large buildings, each one bearing a strong resemblance to Hirosaki Castle, though unpainted and featuring a lot more stone than wood.
All that could be observed from beyond the walls. Today was finally be the day I would be treated to an inside look.
Kazuhiro dropped me off at the front gate and bid me farewell. I guess this wouldn't be like it was my world, where parents would accompany their kids on the tour. I didn't voice any uncertainty or hesitation, just followed the crowd.
In the midst of the buildings was a rocky courtyard, though I knew they used the park outside the complex's ornate walls for practices as well. There, I met Yoshiro-sensei, who might be the most important person in my life for the next six years.
I found the schooling system to be fascinating, and extremely telling. It perfectly reflected Iwa's shinobi culture as well. Students would not grow at their own pace; they would either rise to the occasion or they wouldn't. It wasn't fair, and that was the point.
The only allowance students would get was the right to hold themselves back, and that would have to be used tactically. It was kinda like the consumables dilemma in video games. I'll confess to being a bit of a hoarder; I'd inevitably end up with a million temporary power up's and health potions that I should have used a long time ago.
I doubted I'd need to hold myself back a semester, but perhaps it would be a good move to at some point. Not to perfect material I was struggling with—that would be a waste.
What I'm sure nearly all of my classmates didn't consider was that they could, at will, switch what class they were in. So, if they got along poorly with their teacher (who would be administering and grading their final exam), or if they didn't think they could score high enough in this batch, they could switch once.
It was a double edged sword, of course. A lack of bias and familiarity on the new sensei's behalf could work against the transferring student, or their new batch could be even more competitive. It would take a lot of research and preparation to use your holdback properly, which was no doubt the point.
God, I love mind games.
My scheming abruptly cut off as Yoshiro-sensei's speech ended, with the promise of another speaker. I couldn't see said speaker, but I knew that they were already here from Yoshiro-sensei's body language.
Genjutsu? Was this a test? I'd never been on the receiving end of one before (something I would have to remedy as soon as I could), but I thought that I of all people should be able to detect it in my canals.
There was nothing, so either my vaunted internal chakra control was as useless as Kazuhiro implied, or there was something else that I was missing.
Who would this special speaker be, I wonder? I still didn't have a very good grasp of the authority figures in Iwagakure, the only one I knew was…
God, I'm an idiot.
I snapped to attention the way I had learned in military school. I stood as tall as I could in this body, and the quick motion created a small crack of noise. It was an exaggerated motion, one made to capture attention as much as show respect.
It garnered a few strange looks from the kids around me, who clearly didn't know what was going on, and I intended for Yoshiro-sensei to take notice as well. But I wasn't certain he had, because I kept my eyes fixed on the little black dot in the sky.
"What does it mean to be a shinobi of Iwagakure no Sato?" A wizened voice called, and I couldn't keep my breath from hitching. It was as if the very earth itself had spoken.
Many other kids had worse reactions than me. Some jumped or yelped in fright, and some fell into an unconscious ready stance even though there was no discernable foe.
"Kamizuru Ishikawa, my mentor and the first Tsuchikage, taught me that an Iwagakure shinobi is steadfast. Our unity, our indomitable spirits—that is what makes Iwagakure the strongest hidden village in the elemental nations. That is what I mean, when I reference our Will of Stone."
I barely had time to comprehend his words when the courtyard began to tremble. That was the only warning we got before the ground beneath our feet erupted, and the courtyard, still in one piece, motherfucking rose into the sky.
I didn't let the curse leave my lips, even though this was the last thing I expected to be part of my academy orientation. In mere moments, the entire courtyard had been lifted well above the roofs of the three academy buildings, which were themselves considerably taller than most structures in Iwa. Almost all of my classmates had been knocked off their feet, and I surely would have joined them if not for my chakra control. Still, I stubbornly remained at attention, even as I trembled involuntarily from shock.
Finally, the ground lurched to a stop, and I barely weathered the abrupt end to our ascent. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced around at my class, finding that, aside from Yoshiro-sensei, I was only one of three people in the courtyard still standing, the others being a kid wearing dark gray and…Iwao?
My old friend had grimaced upon realizing I had enrolled early and would be a part of his batch, but he made no comment and went about ignoring me. Respecting his wishes, I didn't make a spectacle out of it. But to say I was surprised to see him still standing at the end of that mess was an understatement.
Now wasn't the time to think about that, as the now slightly larger dot grew as it sank towards us. Others noticed and recognized it, and there was a mad scramble for everyone present to regain their footing before it touched down. To my batchmates' credit, most had shakily clambered to their feet by the time a small man touched down in front of Yoshiro-sensei.
My first impression of Lord Ōnoki, the Sandaime Tsuchikage of Iwagakure no Sato, was that he was small. Taller than me at this age, of course, but I estimated he was only around five-six, even though he was much younger than he had been in Shippuden. His nose was bulbous, but not as exaggerated as it was in the anime, and he was a hell of a lot more threatening. Even ignoring that little display, it was clear he wasn't taking the harmless grandpa approach the Sandaime Hokage had. No, this was a military leader, one who's strength wasn't merely a sum of his subordinates'.
I recognized the jutsu used from the anime. Doton: Chidōkaku. I had seen it used only by the man before me. But he couldn't have done this all by himself. He must have had help, right? Right?
…he totally didn't. This man lightened a meteor over half the size of Iwa. But why? Was this a test? Or did he want to assert his dominance, mythologizing himself in our minds while we were young, so we would subconsciously defer to him for the rest of our lives?
"I'm sure you've heard the expression, a mountain is only as strong as its base," he said as everyone tried to regain their bearings. "I stand at the summit of the mountain that is Iwagakure no Sato. This is my view. Look over the edge and tell me what you see."
A wave of unrest rolled over the group. Many were afraid to do as directed—I was among them, as I couldn't stand heights. But I pushed down that fear nonetheless, hoping the Tsuchikage wasn't a sensor and couldn't tell that I was sticking myself to the stone bricks near the edge.
"What do you see?" He asked rhetorically. "Houses, shops? Yes, maybe the mountains that shelter us?"
There was a smattering of agreement.
"All of these are true. What else?"
Someone said "people."
"Yes, there are people," he confirmed. "They look small from up here, don't they? But if we were to go back down, most of them would be bigger than you or I."
At least he was self-aware. I supposed if I was one of the five officially-recognized strongest shinobi alive, I wouldn't be self-conscious about my height either.
"When we look at the big picture, no one person seems all that significant, do they? If I were down there, you might think I was a regular old man. If you could see me at all, that is. But I know, and you know, that every piece, no matter how small they look, is vital to the growth of the whole. Even if its value eludes you from your current point of view."
"So begins your life as a piece of the Iwa Shinobi forces. Know your time in the academy will not be easy and it will not be simple," he warned. "You will be honed into the strongest piece you can be. Some of your edges will crumble; such is the way of this life you've chosen. But what remains will be all the stronger for it. That is how you can demonstrate your Will of Stone—by persevering, by growing stronger even if it hurts. Forge yourselves into the strongest piece you can, and you will be rewarded. Failure isn't punished, but failure to try will bear consequences."
Not gonna lie, the threat, vague as it may be, hit different when standing on a platform suspended fifty feet in the air.
"But I'm sure I have nothing to worry about from all of you," he said, once he was certain the message had sunk in. "I can see the Will of Stone upon each of your faces."
With that, the Tsuchikage formed three hand seals, and the ground lurched once more. Our descent was slower than our ascent, but I could still feel the lightness in my heart from the drop. Fewer people lost their footing this time, as they were ready for it, and we soon touched down inside the academy bounds once again.
"Good luck with your studies," he said, turning his back to us. "I look forward to seeing what you will accomplish." Then, he took off back into the sky.
- - - { ワナビー } - - -
AN: This is my favorite chapter yet. I loved coming up with the Iwa academy; it's very different from Konoha's system. Expulsion isn't a threat here, it's not even an option. Neither is dropping out. If you aren't cut out for it, you're sent to the genin corp, which is all but a dead end job (possibly in the most literal sense of the phrase).
I also quite enjoyed juxtaposing the Ōnoki and Hiruzen. Their words and actions reflect their values, and the values they wish to see in their subordinates. They are, in essence, the spirit of their reflected village: Iwa is harsh and stubborn, and Konoha is friendly and warm. Except Ōnoki is so much more transparent. Hiruzen frequently preaches one thing before turning around and, you know, letting Danzo kidnap and brainwash kids, or encouraging the massacre of one of Konoha's founding clans. Ōnoki will unapologetically do terrible things, but he'll be more up front with his actions. As far as kage go, he's not one of my favorites, but I'm liking him more and more the longer I spend developing his character.
But god, that speech was agonizing to write. There's a clip during the five kage and Madara fight where Ōnoki has a flashback to the Shodaime teaching him about the Will of Stone. I watched it a million times, and still found it hard to articulate the message behind it. He essentially claims that Iwa shinobi are all replaceable, though that word has a negative connotation he didn't really mean. To embody the Will of Stone, an Iwa shinobi must seize any opportunity without hesitation to better the village as a whole, no matter the consequences. And that any Iwa shinobi has the potential to be put in that position, regardless of background. Which was what led to the flashback—Ōnoki found himself in that position against Madara, and the Will of Stone pushed him to victory (with debatable success). I tried to incorporate that into his speech, and I'm not sure I was entirely successful.
Ah, well. I have literally no more time to spend on this right now. Hopefully it's entertaining at least.