I was fully discharged from the hospital a little over four weeks after I was admitted. Only a couple days before that were the bandages removed.

The scars weren't…great. But they weren't nearly as bad as I feared. Especially in places that were typically exposed, like my face and even my hands. Dr. Tsuneo told me that, as a ninja, it was vital to be able to pass as a civilian if the need arose, so more care than I expected went into maintaining my aesthetics. Apparently, a great deal of skin had been taken from my back—where the fire only lightly touched—to fill in places that were too far gone and needed to look natural. As a result, the worst scars were located in spots that were usually covered by clothes. I still had a lot of growing to do too, so as I aged, they could shrink and migrate as well.

Physical therapy was going as well as could be expected. The water—cold as it may be, as the cool autumn air sank through the cavern—did wonders to lift my mood, and Tatsumi was a pleasant chaperone as well. Significantly nicer than Sexy-sensei had been, though not as much so on the eyes.

The low temperature didn't bother this body as much as it did my old one. As a Florida girl in my previous life, I hadn't experienced a true winter until I enrolled in the naval academy. I did not handle it well. But here, I had chakra.

Chakra kept me…warm isn't the correct word. I still felt the cold as I normally would, but it didn't really slow my body down. There was no ache in my bones and lungs, or tightness in my freshly healed skin. However, as a result, my body did passively use up chakra at a faster rate.

With my flash flooding technique, which I had been abusing even more now that I could receive sufficient nutrition and exercise, the drain was noticeable and quite unwelcome. As such, I was quite grateful that Akane-obasan kept the temperature in her home unreasonably high, even though it negatively impacted my quality of sleep.

Though the semester was not set to begin for a little while longer, I wasn't given any time to rest like the doctor had ordered. I was kept in suspense, constantly looking over my shoulder as I waited for the consequences of my actions to come knocking. But somehow, despite dreading it with every fiber of my being, Gari's messenger still managed to take me completely by surprise.

I had just finished my physical therapy session in Lake Magatta for the day and parted ways with Tatsumi, when a kunoichi appeared next to me in a puff of smoke.

"Bakuhatsu-sama requests your presence," she said in monotone, unconcerned with the fist near her stomach. It was probably a touch more threatening than it appeared; in my shock, I had enhanced it to the max with my chakra.

"My hair's still wet," I said dumbly, before wincing. "And I'm not dressed for a meeting," I tried again.

"Irrelevant. I have waited for your session to conclude for half an hour; I will not wait a second longer."

Then, she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into what I assume is a shunshin. Already caught off guard by her sudden appearance, I couldn't help out an undignified squeal as the world blurred around me.

The shunshin wasn't teleportation, as much as it seemed to be to a pleb like myself. We simply moved at such high speeds that I couldn't perceive any of my surroundings as we blurred past them.

Oh, but don't worry. My nausea was massively overshadowed by the yank of my barely healed arm joints as I was carelessly pulled around at top speeds. I enhanced the afflicted parts as best as I could and gritted my teeth, doing my damndest to keep my body from pulling itself apart.

Mercifully, it was over soon enough, and the ninja put out a steadying hand to keep me from hurling into the wall.

"We're here," she said unnecessarily. "Get inside. Bakuhatsu-sama is waiting."

"No," I spat, hissing as I felt around my left bicep. "You cracked my arm, you bitch!"

"Don't be dramatic," she said, reaching for me again. I slapped her hand out of the way.

"I just got out of the hospital. Don't touch me again."

"I don't have time for this," she grunted, taking a threatening step towards me. But I'd had enough.

Yoshiro-sensei was wrong when he said that chakra sticking was useless in a fight against ninja. It could work, once. The moment they realized what you were doing, it would fail but until then—

I caught her reaching hand on my forearm, tugging it wide. The ninja's eyes widened as I launched a vicious punch at the inside of her own bicep with all the force of my body and chakra enhancement behind it. I wish I could say I heard some crack or something for my efforts, but I'm not sure it actually did anything.

"I said don't. Fucking. Touch. Me."

I swayed, suddenly exhausted. Physical therapy always took it out of me, but this was different. I felt chakra weary, more so than physically tired.

This was a massive fuckup. I should have gritted my teeth and bore it, or let the kunoichi continue to pull me along. Anything would have been better than attacking a ninja. I could be arrested for that, especially if they were on duty, like this one clearly was.

But the kunoichi didn't seem pissed. In fact, she appeared to be even less annoyed than she had been previously.

"That was some killing intent for such a tiny thing," she mused, and I frowned.

Killing intent? I was familiar with the term. It was this universe's equivalent of spiritual pressure. It didn't often play a role in canon from what I remember, but some notable users were Zabuza, Orochimaru and all of the biju.

"Did I actually hurt you?"

"Yeah, like I fucking said. And I imagine that I'm not going be allowed to tell people how it actually fucking happened, so I'm going to have to let the medics think it was my fault, and they'll be even more fucking pissed off at me than they already are!"

"Ah," she grunted. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" I parrotted, incredulous. "I don't give a shit about your apology. Take responsibility."

"Fine, fine. We have a medic on staff. I'll take you to him. After you meet with Bakuhatsu-sama."

"You'll get them while I'm meeting with Bakuhatsu-sama."

She agreed, and I allowed her to lead me through the small, innocuous door. I assumed it was a back entrance to the Explosion Corp's facility. It opened into a dingy hallway, and we immediately took the first set of stairs we found downward, into the basement.

In a (obviously) windowless office, we found the man, the myth, the asshole himself who likes to blackmail children, Bakuhatsu Gari.

"Imai-san," he said coolly. "I was expecting you long ago."

"I was in physical therapy. Your subordinate chose not to approach until I parted ways with my trainer."

His eyes flicked to the kunoichi's, and her chin dipped in response.

"I supposed it can't be helped, then."

I stealthily gave my assaulter a chakra enhanced jab.

"Gomen, boss. Is Umabashi-san on the premises? I roughed up the kid more than I should have."

"Was she uncooperative?" He asked, eyes narrowing.

"No. I just didn't realize she was already injured, and I pulled her into a shunshin. It was my mistake."

"…I see. It's not recommended to take young children sidealong in shunshin anyway, you know, injured or not." It wasn't a reprimand, merely a statement.

"Huh. Yeah, I didn't know that. Gomen."

He nodded. "Last time I saw Umabashi-san, he was in the break room. You may return with him."

She left, and Gari turned his full attention to me. "Per our arrangement, I find it necessary to grant you access to parts of our facility. This," he waved a hand to their surroundings, "is my second office. I will keep this filing cabinet fully stocked with paper and ink for you to use. I will also provide you with a storage scroll to help you transport the materials discreetly."

"Thank you," I mumbled, though it wasn't warranted. He wasn't helping me at all.

He still nodded as if he was. "Come."

Down the hall was a cavernous, empty room. The stone walls were gray, solid but for several stripes of scarlet paint along them at varying heights. Similarly, along the ground were rings of concentric circles, which I assumed represented measurements of some kind.

"This is our explosive testing room," he said. "You will use it to refine your tags, and I expect you to do so. You should not have survived your little accident."

I was well aware.

"Of course, I also expect you to create them with the neutralization matrix and time delays. They are useless to me otherwise. I expect your tag to be finished by the time your classes start once more," he said.

That was only a little over a week from now, and completely unreasonable.

"If you are unable to do so in that time period, you are still expected to fulfill your quota for the following week. The necessary additions will be added at a later date, and those tags will be marked as a lower grade. Then, you will return on the weekends and work under my supervision until your product is satisfactory."

The threat was just as effective as he intended it to be. The last thing I wanted was to spend more time in his presence.

"And finally," he said, leading me to a room next door. "Here is the materials testing room. This is where you will test the effectiveness of your explosives on different targets."

I wrinkled my nose. There was a pig carcass in there, and it wasn't particularly fresh. I didn't have the inclination to step further into the room, but I could see racks of stone bricks, wooden constructs and a large vat that appeared to be filled with water or some other liquid.

"Do not attempt to enter the upper floors. If anyone questions your presence, you will show them this ID." He gave me a metal card with the kanji for explode on one side, and a long string of numbers on the other.

"Now, for my expectations. I will require from you three hundred exploding tags each week. If you are unable to make that quota, you will face punishment. Am I understood?"

I froze at the outrageous figure. "Three hundred?" I repeated. "Sir, it will take me at least five minutes to create each seal. At least! If I rush it any more, I am liable to make mistakes!"

"Mistakes will not be tolerated," he said lackadaisical. "Each of your tags will be checked for errors and neatness against a perfect copy of your seal design. For every unusable tag you turn in, ten more will be added to your quota for the following week."

I swallowed dryly, doing some quick mental math.

"Creating and inspecting that many tags will take over twenty-five hours a week," I attempted. "Even if I work straight through Saturday and Sunday, I won't have time to study or do anything!"

"I fail to see how that would be my concern," was his reply.

"It is your concern," I stated, mind racing. "If my grades suffer, my sensei will start asking questions. He's a jonin; he might discover our…arrangement."

"Then you best make sure that doesn't happen," he said blandly. "If you are discovered, and if you do not fulfill your weekly quotas, you will not enjoy the consequences. I frankly don't care if it takes you every waking moment outside of the academy, or even if you have to work well into the night. There will be no compromises or allowances; you will get me my tags. Do you understand?"

Everything felt hot, and the pounding of my heart felt like breaking glass. I could barely force myself to nod.

"But I will correct a misconception. You will work to create those three hundred tags over the course of the week only. Over the weekends, your talents will be used elsewhere."

I physically recoiled at the claim. I couldn't even work towards that unreasonable number over the weekend?

"The context of your little accident has not escaped me," he said coldly. "Despite how you've chosen to frame it to those who mention the subject of fuinjutsu, I know that you hold an uncommon aptitude for the art. An aptitude that I happen to be in need of. As I mentioned, the Explosion Corp will be relying on tags a great deal in the coming years. Therefore, it has become necessary to create variants that can be utilized for a wider range of applications. I have commissioned, at no small cost to myself, these variants to be invented, and was given a guide for each of them. However, with only one example to look to for each, my subordinates have found it…difficult to advance."

In other words, they weren't good enough at fuinjutsu. So Gari needed someone who was. Someone firmly under his thumb, who could fill his exorbitant demand.

"From this point forward, you are under the employ of the Explosion Corp," he said, and the words felt heavy, like iron shackles clamped to my limbs and neck. "You will be our in-house sealing specialist. Feel honored that you are bestowed such a title, despite your grave error. And know that the position comes with expectations, and confidentiality. You will not reveal your association with the Explosion Corp to anyone without my personal and explicit permission. Nor will you disseminate any knowledge you may gain from our partnership without the same allowance. As far as the rest of Iwagakure is concerned, basic exploding tags are and forever will be the extent of your sealing prowess. Do you understand?"

I understood perfectly. I had only just come to terms with the idea of publicly pursuing fuinjutsu, even deciding to pursue an apprenticeship under Akane-obassan's son. Because that would have been the right thing to do. Yes, my work would probably (definitely) be used to take lives in the coming war, but it would also be used to advance and protect the people of Iwagakure.

Now, my greatest fears of the past few years would be realized, but the situation was even worse than I could have imagined. I would be blackmailed into spending every waking minute copying seals, seals exclusively used as disposable weapons. Once I completed the variants Gari spoke of, there would be no invention, no creativity, just repetition. No bettering lives, only taking them. I was an arms dealer. A factory worker. A slave.

I realized I was shaking, and tensed every muscle in my body to force myself to stop.

"Do you understand," he repeated, his voice harder.

"Yes, sir," I said, stiffly. From an adjacent corridor, I saw the kunoichi return, a plain looking man, clean shaven and slightly balding, close behind. Not trusting my voice, I wordlessly offered him my aching arm for inspection and he set to work.

"Good. Ichikawa-san will be your liaison. She will provide feedback when need be, and can offer her expertise. She is also proficient in the creation of exploding tags. You may stay and begin your work now, or you may leave and return later. I do not care as long as you are discreet and meet your deadlines." Without another word, he turned tail and ascended the stairs to the floors I was not allowed on. With a snarl, I turned to the kunoichi.

"You're fucking helping me with this shit, right fucking now."

"Yeah, pass. Look, I'm sorry for your arm, but I got shit to do. And I've got a thing this weekend too…maybe I can fit you in next week."

"Next week is too late," I seethed. "You boss is blackmailing me into being his exploding tag making slave, and you're just okay with that? And you're not even going to help me at all?"

"Got it in one. Sorry, kid, this is how things are done among ninja. You, your family, or whoever pissed him off shouldn't have let him get one over on you."

"You're a piece of shit," I spat, as the soft, green glow from Umabashi's hand faded. The pain in my arm, barely noticeable after my flash floods to begin with, was completely gone. I didn't thank the man, and he left without a word.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm a piece of shit who cares about my little sister, and I promised to help her with training. So, sorry. I'll be back on Monday." Despite my protest, she vanished a split second later.

I didn't know what to do. I don't think there's anything I could do. Gari had ensnared me perfectly. Wrapped me tight in his web, with no room for rebellion. No out. And this wasn't something that would go away once I hit my majority; with all my free time monopolized by Gari's outrageous quotas, I would be hard-pressed to rise through the rankings. It would be almost impossible to pass my final exam—that shit's difficulty was infamous. Less than ten people from each batch actually passed at all!

Then, once I graduated into the genin-corp, I would have no autonomy. No one would care about me, except for Gari. If he wanted me to officially work under him, he could assign me to his division and no one would blink an eye. This…arrangement would last until the day I died.

I only had one option aside from killing myself out of spite or going nuke-nin. I would have to, against all odds, pass the final exam despite all of Gari's interference. Then, I would be assigned to a jonin team, and if Gari still wanted to keep me in his clutches, he'd have to make his wish known. That would inevitably lead to questions, and he would have to reveal my sealing proficiency if he wanted to make a case. He wouldn't do that—he couldn't afford to admit that he had someone with that kind of talent, who he purposefully kept hidden from everyone in the village. They'd ruin him.

It was my only option, yet it seemed so far out of reach. Out of those few that actually passed the exam, only some would actually make it onto a team. For security, I needed to shoot for the very top, and there wasn't enough time in the day. Not unless I found a way to mass produce seals. But if that was possible, why would there have ever been a finite supply to begin with? No ninja village would ever want for tags.

I needed more information. And, more urgently in the short term, I needed help finishing my exploding seal. There was only one person to turn to for help with either, so I took a deep, ragged breath and straightened.

There was no time for spiraling. I had work to do.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Yoshiro sat with his thick, second-semester binder, leafing through the pages as he tuned out the chatter around him. He, like his peers, was waiting for his turn for a meeting with the academy head, some Iwa commanders and possibly other bureaucrats. Many took this as an opportunity to socialize, compare notes, ask for advice or air grievances with their students, but for some reason, Yoshiro was never included in these conversations. Perhaps it was because he was one of the only two jonin instructors, or maybe it was due to his temperament and otherwise standoffishness. He didn't care either way.

At last, he was called into the meeting just past the reception. They were in a wing of the Tsuchikage's palace, specifically the administration section, and Yoshiro was quite familiar with the location. Since he took his position, and especially after his uncommon string of successes as a sensei, he had become one of the academy head's closest advisors.

"Good evening," he greeted as he entered, receiving a smattering of polite replies. Next to the elderly Head Kamizuru, who was the Tsuchikage's second cousin, was Kobayashi Ichiro, the Jonin Commander, Yoshihara Kohaku, the genin corps commander, Ashikaga Juro, a captain of the Red Ogres and father of one of his students, and Elder Iwamoto, an advisor to the Tsuchikage.

"Thank you for taking time out of your preparations to meet with us," Head Kamizuru said, as if he had a choice in being here.

"Of course," Yoshiro replied neutrally. "I know you have many classes to get through, so I won't waste your time."

From a second, much slimmer binder, he produced thirty-two papers, each containing detailed character profiles of his students. He separated them into three categories.

The purpose of this meeting was long-term planning. This early on it was purely speculation, as a lot could change in six years. Still, it was important for each division commander to get a sense of how many people would join their forces in the near future, and what skills or talents they would bring.

He began with the lowest on the totem pole.

"Currently, I believe I have eight students with no hope of making it out of the Genin Corp," he said bluntly. It went without saying that most of his class would end up in the unit initially, but he was reasonably certain that a good number, if they survived long enough, could claw their way out of it. Yoshiro handed the pile to Head Kamizuru, who leafed through them before passing the stack to Yoshihara-sama.

The next and largest category were those he saw some potential in. Those that could make chunin with hard work and a great deal of luck. These, he bothered to discuss in depth, making sure to elaborate on the potential he saw in them, as well as relevant mental traits, positive or negative.

Then came the part that everyone actually cared about. The cream of his minuscule crop.

"I have seven Jonin candidates," he announced, immediately capturing everyone's interest. Seven was a lot for a single class, especially a class led by Yoshiro. He was known to lowball his estimates, which was true, typically. However, if he were to be honest with himself, two of those candidates didn't presently belong. Perhaps they would someday, but not yet. Still, he included them in their prestigious number so as not to ruffle feathers. Highly respected jonin or not, some things were just not worth the hassle.

"First, Ashikaga Takeo." Her father, true to his position, gave no tell, though some eyes flicked in the man's direction. "Quiet, decisive. Physicality as high as could be expected from her age. Demonstrates fierce loyalty to her friend, who is also on this list. Scored sixth in the class rankings. No shortcomings to note, although I'm fairly sure she was capable of scoring higher on her exam than she did. Perhaps she didn't wish to reach a higher ranking than a certain classmate. She'll become a C-rank threat at least."

A C-rank designation in Yoshiro's book meant she would likely become B-rank, and everyone here knew that.

"In the same vein, we have Ishida Iwao. Our most sociable ninja on this list. The lower ranks flock to him because of his parentage, but he has done well to direct and subtly manipulate them to his favor. He scored fourth in the class rankings, and is well above average all round. However, his personal dislike of another student has proven to be a detriment. Again, C-rank at least."

He flipped to the next page. "Higa Mari. C-rank as well. Physically, the strongest in the class, with an iron will. Possesses an impressive knowledge base, passed down from her father. She's an isolationist, and so I have little concept of her personality, but her detachment may make her a valuable asset in many units."

"Hirose Daigo. C-rank, though I may amend that in the coming years. He has a great deal of potential, especially as his father has been so invested in teaching him the art of genjutsu. He is one of the most intelligent in the class, boasting a perfect score on the written portion of my exam. Often quiet, but on occasion his sharp wit shines through. Has a keen eye for the weaknesses of others in sparring, but is not always able to take advantage of them at his current level. His chakra unlocked as well."

This time, he pulled out two papers. "The twins, Konjiki Katsuo and Konjiki Katsume. They display many of the traits prevalent to their clan."

They were Konjiki. Boisterous, powerful, short-tempered. Yoshiro didn't need to elaborate, because everyone here knew exactly what he meant by that.

"Katsume is superior to her brother in terms of academics. I think that they could be C-rank at least, possibly B."

Here was the second to last. "Doi Hayato. B-rank. Number one in the class rankings. Hits fast, hard and with precision. A keen mind too. His chakra is unlocked, and has demonstrated the paper sticking technique. He can hold three pieces, on his forehead and back of both hands, for fifteen minutes."

"At five years old?" Head Kamizuru mused.

"Yes. And I know his father is also teaching him stealth exercises and Kenjutsu."

His audience spent significantly more time perusing his profile than they did the others, so Yoshiro kept the last profile face down.

"It sounds like he's a shoo-in for one of the jonin teams," Kobayashi-sama mused. "If only he wasn't a future stealth specialist. The Doi must be happy to have him."

Maybe they'd have enough stealth specialists to form a full team with a relevant jonin instructor, but it was unlikely. Perhaps they could cobble something together from the genin corp—those higher scoring individuals from previous years that should have been placed on teams, but weren't simply because they were unlucky. Either there were too few available jonin instructors at the time of their graduation, their classmates were simply more talented, or, as was the situation with Hayato, their sensei couldn't fashion a team for them out of their class with such a niche specialization.

That wasn't a future that awaited the younger Doi, though. He was too special for such a fate to befall him. Which was, no doubt, why his father put so much effort into training him to this extent. Even if he couldn't be placed on a team, he would be given to a specialist as an apprentice. Perhaps another of his clan.

"You still have one student left," Ashikaga Juro noted, staring pointedly at the lone paper face down on the table. "Imai Kasaiki, I presume."

Yoshiro, who was in the process of flipping it over, stilled. "You know her?"

"A significant portion of my division knows her. We've had our collective eyes on her for years."

"Why?" Yoshiro asked, knowing it couldn't be all that serious. If it was, the Red Ogre Captain wouldn't have said anything at all.

"I think you can guess."

"Now I'm curious," Elder Iwamoto said, and Yoshiro sighed, flipping over the page fully.

"Imai Kasaiki," he stated. "An early enrollee, currently four. Survivor of the Fugatoro incident. As far as class rankings go, she is dead last."

"Dead last?" Yoshihara-sama repeated. "Then why include her?"

"She only received the score she did—a zero—because she was unable to sit the exam. If she was, she would likely place in the top five."

"Imai Kasaiki," the jonin commander muttered. "Why do I know that name?"

"She's the ward of one of your projects," Ashikaga Juro revealed. "The Sky Division, I believe they call it."

Kobayashi-sama snapped his fingers. "Asano's…daughter? No, sister. That's right."

"Chakra Enhancement?" Head Kamizuru said suddenly, having received her file first, as was customary.

"No," Yoshiro said. "Perfect chakra enhancement. I can scarcely comprehend what it must be like to have as impeccable internal chakra control as she does. Her external control, not so much. However, she is already capable of chakra sticking, and has creatively applied it in many situations, including in taijutsu. In addition, her chakra reserves are, frankly, monstrous for her age. "

He sat back in his chair. "And that's merely what she is capable of physically. Her intelligence far surpsees her peers, and while she does display childish thinking on occasion, her sheer level of understanding…it's sometimes unsettling. I saw fit to excuse her from mathematics class, on the condition that she chose a personal project to pursue in the free period. I ended up letting her sit in on batch sixty-three's Affinity Discovery class, and…well. You can read about her accomplishments there."

"Instant jutsu learning," the Head muttered, as those furthest away rose to read over his shoulder as if they themselves were school children. "And she already knew the Kawarimi? Kami."

Elder Iwamoto, the only one to remain seated, sighed. He had a decade over the Head, even, and weariness and wariness were both reflected in his voice. "Another one of those, then?"

Once in a blue moon, a child was simply born different. Some referred to them as prodigies, some as monsters, and others as Hitosedai ni Ichido. Once in a generation talents. Whatever they did, they did spectacularly, which was all well and good until they decided to use their talents against you.

"Right. Well, let's discuss risks. Risks to the village?"

"Low at the moment," Yoshiro said. "She doesn't have many close attachments, but her small family is loyal, so she will be as well for as long as they live."

"Good. Risk to others?"

"Low as well, thankfully. Once, she underestimated her powers and hurt another student, but that was an isolated incident. She is surprisingly stable, comparatively, and has a truly unusual amount of compassion towards her classmates, even though they ostracize her for her abilities. I don't foresee her snapping. Or pulling a Nishihara, at least."

That was a reference to one of Iwa's legendary figures, whose later years were scrubbed from their history books.

The elder grinned ruefully. "Well, there are our two. History has taught us that the third is out of reach. But perhaps my preconceptions do not hold true. Tell me, if you would, about the child's risk to herself."

In a rare moment of humor, Yoshiro chuckled lightly. "I'm sorry to disappoint you. She was only just let out of the hospital after nearly blowing herself up with a self-made exploding tag. That is the reason for her ranking."

"I heard about that!" Yoshihara-sama said. "That was the same girl?"

"The same," Yoshiro agreed.

"You set her straight?"

"I think I got through to her. Only time will tell."

"Good." He sighed. "For a four-year-old to successfully make an exploding tag. It's…alarming. Ridiculous."

"Keep a close eye on her, Yoshiro-kun," Elder Iwamoto told him. "I've seen too many talented shinobi falter after such a devastating failure. This girl could prove to become one of Iwagakure's most valuable assets. It would be a shame for her to lose her spark."

"From our conversation, I don't believe that will be the case. But, again, only time will tell. We'll see if her grades remain perfect once we move into slightly more challenging material. If they do not…I suppose I'll have to take action. As you said, she could one day become a valuable asset, and I have a vested interest in honing her to her sharpest. I haven't forgotten the subject of our last meeting."

"I'm quite glad," Head Kamizuru agreed. "It wouldn't do to waste his time. I'll admit, I was worried we wouldn't be able to offer anything satisfactory. But this Imai Kasaiki gives me hope. I'm glad she is in your class, Yoshiro-san. I have no doubt that, under your tutelage, she will become a fearsome kunoichi."

Yoshiro ducked his head, and took that as the dismissal it was.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: Kasaiki might have a harder time hiding her arrangement with Gari than she thinks. What's going on in the academy? Yoshiro has vested interest in her? What could that be about?

There have been a lot of questions about the mechanics of sealing in this fic. I'm excited to answer them in the next chapter. There simply wasn't a natural place to address them until now.

With this chapter, I am finally able to share some insight into some of the narrative choices I've made without spoiling the direction of the story. I know some of them have been…controversial.

My single biggest struggle with this fic, from the very beginning, is that the story I wanted to write—the story that almost every other Naruto oc/si author wants to write—isn't logical at all. Like, think about it. If you had advanced knowledge of chakra mechanics and potential, combined with foreknowledge and detailed accounts of important past events that no one knows about, what leader in their right mind would ever let you live the dangerous life of a regular ninja? Maybe they would treat you as a valuable piece on their board, maybe they'd try and take advantage of you, maybe they'd try and milk you for all your worth. But there is no chance they would ever put you in a position where they could lose you as a resource.

I've read only one story that took the "logical" direction that I enjoyed, and it wasn't even about a transmigration from our world to the Naruto one. It was just about a native Yamanaka who was just really smart and went into R&D. The story is called Breathing In, by Montenya on Archive Of Our Own if you're interested in reading it. But oh my god, if you thought my pacing was slow, this would kill you.

While I appreciated the story format in that one instance (I have not enjoyed it anywhere else), it wasn't the kind of story I wanted to write, and I'm sure as hell that it's not the story most of you want to read. So, I was left with a dilemma. How can I write the story I want to—about a ninja rising to greatness, fighting through what is, in my opinion, the most interesting conflict in Naruto—without simply ignoring the nonsensicality of the premise?

When I first came up with the concept of this story, I genuinely didn't know the answer. So I did some research, examining the oc fics that I both enjoyed the most and found to be the most effective (these went hand in hand). I found that, in my favorite fics, the protagonist typically doesn't have a choice. Some external factor forces them into becoming ninja, and prevents them from acting logically. There are other successful approaches, but this is the most prevalent, and the one I decided to follow as well.

The thing that prevented Kasaiki from acting logically initially were her own preconceptions. She thought she should act a certain way based on the media she consumed in her previous life, so she did. To her detriment. The entire purpose of this was to get her in that hospital bed. To put her under Gari's thumb. She learned her lesson, but now it's too late. Something much more explicit and unyielding is now forcing her into becoming a traditional ninja, while also mandating secrecy.

I didn't write 100,000 words just to do that. I also wanted to introduce the building blocks Kasaiki would use to grow into the ninja we're all dying to finally see. I'm infodumping now so I don't have to at a later point, potentially interrupting something more important. All the experimentation going on so far has been in controlled, low-stakes environments. Soon, Kasaiki won't have that luxury, and it's bad writing to interrupt tense moments with exposition (an opinion I think almost everyone will agree with—god knows my publisher has told me as much countless times).

All of this was my intention, but I fully believe that doesn't matter. Only you can judge how well I executed it.

Next chapter will end this quote unquote arc. Following that will be several chapters not from Kasaiki's perspective, which will usher in the time skip. And once that's over, we'll have the graduation exam.

Shocked pikachu face. Yes, I'm being serious. I think I've come up with a clever way to pull this off, so I hope you will all enjoy it. War is on the horizon.

Anyway, there's the longest authors note that I'll probably ever make. I just wanted to get that off my chest, now that I finally can. I am appreciative of everyone's comments no matter what, but it's a little disheartening to have intentional choices that I've made be attributed to mistakes/bad writing. Still, I'm always glad to know what people are thinking.

Stay tuned for more about sealing, and have a great week!