"Bye Ayae!"
"Bye Reina, bye Nanami!"
"See you tomorrow, Ayae."
"See you Masae! Bye Kumiko!"
"Good night, Ayae!"
"Good night, Yuuka! Good night, Sayuri!"
"Bye-!"
With one hand, I steadied Mimi. With my other, I caught her books. "Bye Mimi!" I said, handing back her books.
Balancing her stack, Mimi laughed nervously.
Other students waved goodbye. I waved back with the chalkboard eraser.
"Damn, you're getting even more popular than Ayame," Dai whistled, leaning against her broom.
"I wish!" I went back to wiping the chalkboard. "Ayame brings homemade taiyaki to class. All I've got is family drama."
"Juicy family drama."
I gave Dai a teasing push. She gave a small kick back.
It had been a month since I started normal school. Turned out, coming to normal school had been the BEST!
I made more friends than ever. And without training, I had so much more time! For years, I had done nothing but eat, sleep, and train. But now, I could dance as much as I wanted. I was watching television. I was drawing. I was playing card games and video games and board games. I learned how to ride a bike for the first time.
Any worry I had before about fitting in was gone. Once I got to know my classmates, and my classmates got to know me, we got along like peas in a pod. Everyone liked to hear stories about my family. Big or small, crazy or stupid, they wanted to know everything. So I'd share stories every lunch break. The Dropouts called it 'Keeping Up with the Uchiha'. Setsu was working with Reina on making it a comic book.
Life was good. It was so good, I felt embarrassed looking back. It was all ninja, ninja, ninja. I never gave anything else a chance, thinking it couldn't be good or that it couldn't be for me. It was very close-minded of me.
Dai glanced at the clock. "Oh shoot, it's already five."
"Go, go! I'll finish up." I knew Dai had an interview for her new apprenticeship.
Tamaki had left earlier for her own interviews. She had been applying to bank offices. This one was for an apprentice bookkeeper, but she wasn't interested. She only went to please her mom.
What Tamaki really wanted was to work under Emi. Our visit to the fabric shop had inspired her to be a fashion designer. But Tamaki claimed she wasn't ready yet, so she had been practicing sewing until she got good enough to apply.
I hadn't had any luck yet, but I was hopeful. I'd find my place eventually.
"Thanks, owe you!" Dai said, rushing out with her backpack.
Once the door closed, I continued to clean the classroom. At the Academy, cleaning was for dead lasts and delinquents. At normal school, everyone took turns cleaning, even top students. Dai and I were up this time. I didn't mind, already used to it.
After wiping the chalkboard, I moved on to sweeping the floors. Finally, I had to gather everyone's diaries and bring them to the teacher's office.
One by one, I collected the blue booklet from the student's desks. As I pulled one booklet free, something dropped out.
It rolled.
"Oh no!"
I put down my stack of booklets to search for whatever that fell. It was a button pin.
I froze, recognizing that color and design.
Swallowing, I looked at the name on the booklet in my hand.
Yuuka.
After looking around, I picked up the pin and secretly put it back inside Yuuka's desk. I gathered the rest of the booklets and brought them to the teacher's office.
I had my own place to be. Grabbing my backpack, I ran out.
The way there was not at all tough. I just needed a good pair of climbing gloves. Once I was near the top, a hand reached out.
Gin grinned, pulling me up.
I breathed, peeling off my gloves.
"Wow!" I said, looking into the distance. We could see the whole village. The main roads branched out like the ribs of a folding fan, dividing the buildings up into districts. Poking out from the trees were telephone poles and water towers and rooftops.
"Great view, right?"
I nodded.
Already on top of the Hokage monument were Hana and Naruto. Between them was a box of gear and supplies.
Hana looked good in her new forehead protector. Gin had his strapped to his arm.
Naruto had his arms spread out wide, feeling the wind. He was wearing goggles and pretending to be a bird.
Despite going separate ways, the four of us were back together for another round of community service. It didn't matter if we graduated or switched schools or stayed where we were, we all still had three months left to go!
The assignment this time was the biggest one yet. The Hokage monument was a pride of the village, so getting to take care of it was a huge honor. We would have never gotten the job had Gin and Hana not been genin.
Our task was simple. Because the monument was rock, it got worn over time by earthquakes and rain. Cracks would happen. We had to seal the cracks with this special glue before they got any worse, then cover it with sand. Then, tada, good as new!
After several hours on the ropes, we had the First and Second Hokage polished. The Fourth Hokage, unfortunately, suddenly had a mustache thanks to Naruto and the paintbrush in his mouth. It gave the rest of us a heart attack, and we screamed and struggled and finally cleaned the paint before any of the supervisors noticed.
Soon the sun was setting. There were spots we missed, so we would have to return another day. We didn't mind. It was wonderful being together after a time apart. It had only been six weeks but it felt like six months.
We sat on top of the First Hokage's head. Gin told me about the ninja side of life. He showed me his ID. For the first time ever, he had his photograph taken. Photos, after all, were rare. They cost a lot and most people only had them for important papers or special events, like weddings. Naruto and I fought to see his card.
I snickered. Naruto did too. Gin looked so serious in his photo! Gin snatched his card back, saying he was supposed to look serious. After all, he was now a professional.
Naruto thought Gin lost out. If it were him, he'd go all out.
After photos and registration was team assignment. Gin got put with Ijouna and Hosei. When I asked about all the cool, exciting missions, he groaned.
Apparently I didn't miss much. Their work didn't sound that different from my moral education classes. Occasionally, they did get weird requests.
For example, there was one nobleman who decided he wanted to see herons. But instead of waiting for heron season like a normal person, he made Gin's team bring the herons to him. Which meant carrying fifty birds over three hundred kilometers… and BACK! By the end of it, Gin was as traumatized as the birds.
Gin knew he'd be working for lazy, rich noblemen, but he never thought it could be possible for people to be that lazy or that rich. Gin did not feel bad taking their money at all.
Hana snickered.
"What about you, Hana?" I asked.
"About the same. We did get one C-rank and faced some bandits. Michio got them quick though."
My jaw dropped. "Michio is on your team?"
Hana and Gin were surprised by my reaction. They had forgotten that I hadn't been there. I never saw the final rankings.
Hana had gotten first place. Michio had gotten dead last.
"How?!"
This was old news to them. Gin waved his cap and let Hana explain.
"Oh, he rigged everyone's exam scores and made a complete mockery of the teaming system." Hana said it in total deadpan.
"He did?!" I thought back to the day of our final exam. Had the teachers been right to accuse him all along? I could already imagine Michio's smug look.
Hana nodded.
She told me student rankings were used to balance genin teams. But that had flaws. For one, it ignored team dynamics. Certain personalities were disastrous together. And not all strengths complemented each other.
The old idea was to have the bottom student learn from the top student, and for the top student to carry the team. But it only ended up making the top student tackle everything alone. And it put the bottom student in situations that were way out of their depth.
Despite not agreeing with Michio's methods, Hana did think Michio's system worked… a little better.
"What's that?"
"Putting all the friends together."
I blinked.
Friends looked out for each other. And by nature, we gravitated towards people who we worked well with.
After attending the Academy, Michio knew his classmates. He could tell who would work well together. He could tell which students would come out as good shinobi and who would come out as awful ones. At least, he thought he knew better than the teachers anyway.
Hana thought he was too cocky. She didn't like him being a judge on who passed and who didn't.
Unfortunately, that was also why Michio chose Hana for his team. Hana saw him fully. She would call him out if he stepped out of line.
"Oh, and he listened to you."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"He's started a bootcamp for genin graduates. He thinks the school's training regiment is too weak and has created this fake it until you make it culture that emphasizes confidence over competence. He wants to correct that with a new mixed-style teaching centered on humility."
"Too many big words, Hana!" I whined.
On my back, Naruto also whined. He liked the genin stories but was starting to get bored. He waved his arm, trying to steal Gin's forehead protector.
"Your cousin started his own school. People are signing up to get their asses kicked," Gin translated for me. He brushed Naruto off.
"Oh." I turned to Hana. "That's great! Michio's a good teacher."
"Surprisingly," Hana mumbled. "He's following heaven-earth philosophies. The techniques are very… Uchiha."
"Well, he is Uchiha," I said, sweat-dropping.
"No, I mean, they're techniques your clan developed… for your clan."
"Wait, hold up," Gin said, suddenly alert. "Are you saying he's giving away secret clan techniques?"
I didn't get what the big deal was.
Hana explained you don't do that. Clan secrets were valuable and treasured. You weren't supposed to share them with people outside the family.
"But Hana, you did that," I said, furrowing my brows. "When you tried to teach me ninjutsu."
"Not supposed to," Hana repeated, frowning. "Besides, I was just teaching you. That's different from teaching everyone."
She explained that the last time the Uchiha shared a technique, it was the fireball. And that was all the way back at the founding of the village.
It was one of the Three Great Gifts. The other two were Three-Five-Seven Seal, released by the Uzumaki, and the Mystical Palm, released by the Senju.
These three gifts were super important. They rewrote history.
See, ages ago, if you came from a clan, you learned your clan's techniques. But if you had no clan, or if your clan's techniques sucked, then you had nothing to learn from. This then created a self-fulfilling cycle, where over time the best clans would get better and better, while the worst clans would get worse and worse. This was because the best clans would keep winning, keep improving, keep discovering secrets. Meanwhile, the worst clans would be too busy trying to survive to leave anything behind for their kids. And even when they did create something, stronger clans would steal them.
This all changed with the founding of Konoha, when three of the best clans came together and offered to each share something with everyone.
The Three Great Gifts was one of the reasons so many clans joined and swore allegiance to Konoha. Because in Konoha was this promise of equality. Of fairness. You were no longer a shinobi of this great clan or a shinobi of this sucky clan, you were a shinobi of Konoha.
And the shinobi of Konoha turned out to be insanely powerful. The best clans had at most a hundred capable soldiers. Konoha had created tens of thousands. Most of them had no clan signature style, but all had the Konoha signature style. Fire, seals, healing. Ninja from other villages could recognize it in a heartbeat.
"Healing…" I turned to Gin. "That medical-nin. She learned to do that because of the Senju?"
"The medical-nin, as we know of it today, is a direct result of Lady Tsunade's legislation," Hana said. "She personally trained an entire generation of kunoichi to make sure they got right."
"Wow! Sharing sounds great!" I said, nodding enthusiastically. "Why don't we do it more?"
Here, Hana looked uneasy. "Well, there used to be a big push for it. The First Hokage was really into this clanless idea. And the Uzumaki went for it. They even gave their clan insignia to the village. To this day, Uzumaki is a name anyone without one can claim."
Naruto, who had been listening, stopped. His hands froze midair in his latest attempt to steal Gin's forehead protector.
Hana looked down. "One can argue that the clan name is the most precious thing someone can give. In it is your history, your identity, and your honor. The Uzumaki is heralded as one of the longest lines of shinobi blood, one of the most noble and honorable to exist. By giving their name away, they invited everyone to live in pride. They welcomed everyone into their family."
Naruto went watery-eyed. That was when I remembered. Naruto was an orphan, and Uzumaki… was his surname. He really liked that surname.
I pulled him into my arms. He didn't resist. I patted his back, trying to ignore the snot dripping down my chest.
"Well, then what?" Naruto croaked, breaking the silence.
Hana jumped.
"The integration policies just… weren't popular," she said carefully. "The Second Hokage repealed most of them after he took office. He argued that sharing would hinder progress as a whole. No clan has incentive to invent jutsu when they can just wait for another clan to do it and then take it from them. Furthermore, it was a matter of fairness. If you worked hard to give your family something, you shouldn't be forced to give it to everyone else. Many clans agreed with his points, and so… here we are."
"Well, the Second Hokage is wrong and can go suck-"
I pulled Naruto back into my chest. I laughed nervously.
"The Uzumaki sound like the real boss," Naruto mumbled into my shirt.
I didn't disagree. The Uzumaki did sound great.
For Naruto, that was enough. He calmed and even started smiling. He liked his name, and instead of liking it less, he liked his name even more.
I was glad.
Still, everything was a little confusing. Sharing meant everything was more fair. But not sharing also meant everything was more fair.
I was startled to hear Gin laugh.
"It'll hinder progress. Is that the bullshit they tell themselves?"
"Gin…"
"Ayae, you want to know why clans don't want to share their clan secrets? You and me. There's one jounin position. Your clan teaches you some fancy techniques that make you better than me. Position is yours." He inhaled, trying not to sound too mad. "Now, let's say the First Hokage forces your clan to teach those fancy techniques to everyone. And let's say I learn it faster. I learn it better. Position is mine. That's why, Ayae. People with everything want to keep everything, and they'll say anything if it lets them get away with it."
I sensed the tension between him and Hana.
I pouted.
"Gin, you know if my clan teaches me anything cool, I'll teach you too, right?" I said, pointing to myself.
"That's not…" He slapped his palm over his face. "I know you will do that, because you are a goody-two-shoes dum-dum! But no one else-"
"Michio," I pointed out.
"Then he's another goody-two-shoes dum-dum!"
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"As his teammate," Hana interrupted. "I'd like to say I think he is doing this out of good intentions?"
"Ha!" Gin said.
"But he's no Ayae," Hana added. "He's not stupid."
"Ha!" I said. I blinked. "Hey wait!" I cried.
"He seems loyal to your clan. I don't see him doing anything that'll put the Uchiha at a disadvantage," Hana said, shrugging. "That brings me to my last point I guess. The reason the Uchiha, Uzumaki, and Senju were okay with sharing, but the other clans weren't. It's just… at the end of the day, those three are so powerful, they're kind of above all of it. Most clans have one technique and that's it, that's the only edge we have. But for a clan like the Uchiha, they have hundreds of jutsus. Giving away one of them doesn't compromise their position. If anything, it's a show off, as if to say they're above the petty politics of other clans… and it kind of pisses me off, just a little," she confessed.
Gin lowered his shoulders. He let Naruto snatch his forehead protector.
Naruto climbed up my back again. With Gin's forehead protector on, he sat on top of my shoulders.
After some thought, I said, "Well, my dad always says sharing is caring." I gave a little sway. Naruto rocked back and forth. He laughed, spreading his arms out again. "So if I do come across any awesome moves, I'll definitely let you know. But I can't force people to share if they don't want to. I'd want them to share because sharing feels good and does good. So if people are only sharing out of obligation or guilt, I feel like somewhere we've missed the point...?" I looked up. "Right, Naruto?"
"Make way, new Hokage here!" Naruto yelled out.
I smiled.
The orphanage was close so it was easy to drop off Naruto. Gin, Hana, and I lived in different directions. Gin had an early mission tomorrow, so he split off first.
Hana walked with me, saying she wanted to be away from home a bit longer. Her little brother could be a headache, kind of like Naruto in some ways.
"So you've gotten our debriefs, but we never got yours. How's everything going?" she asked.
"Great!"
I explained to her everything I had been up to. The more I talked, the more she untensed. I realized that she had been worried about me. I understood why. A year ago, dropping out would have felt like the end of the world.
Hana was being a good friend. She wanted to make sure that their genin stories hadn't made me feel left out.
"I'm glad it worked out," she said after I finished. She sounded lighter.
I nodded. "And for you too!" I paused. "Let me know if Michio gives you a hard time, okay? Especially if he gets too show-offy." I lowered my voice and glanced around. "Or flirty."
Hana bit back a grin. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that one." Seeing my confusion, she rubbed her neck. "We're... a little similar in some aspects. He won't try anything, not on me."
Hana seemed confident in that. I lowered my shoulders. She was probably right. Michio did always treat Hana differently than the other girls. Less playful and more competitive. Maybe because they were both top rank?
At the gate to my district, we said goodbye. Before I went in, I looked up one last time. I stopped.
It was dark now, so it was easy to miss. But tomorrow morning, the village would wake up and see the Third Hokage with a runny nose. The First Hokage will have a spiral on his cheek. And the Second Hokage, the words BUTTFACE on his forehead.
.
The only problem with community service was the timing sometimes. My work site could be far away, so if community service was in the morning, I had to run across the whole village to get to class on time.
Luckily, I was fast. I made it on time most of the time. The few times I couldn't, I didn't feel too bad. There were always other late-comers. Yuuka was the worst. She was late at least once a week, usually huffing at the door. Riku was another offender, but no one blamed Riku. He lived the farthest away. Not only that, he had to drop off lunch and check up on his grandmother every morning. Yuuka was just lazy and would oversleep her alarm.
Unlike at the Academy, normal school was lenient on time. The most we got was a headshake, so I wasn't worried when I was late again.
It was Sunday, which meant domestic arts. We had been told that we were getting a special lecturer this time, some famous matchmaker named Lady Mamefusa. The lesson would be on manners.
It was exciting news. I was A++ in manners. My dad taught me all my please and thank yous. Finally a domestic arts lesson I could do well on!
Yuuka and I met at the door at the same time.
"Morning!" I greeted.
Yuuka collapsed, making a noise. She straightened and searched her bag. "Shoot, I forgot my apron!"
"No worries, Yuuka. We're doing manners today, remember?"
"Oh yeah!" Yuuka looked relieved. "With Lady Edamame, right?"
"Mamefusa."
"Right," she said, sweat-dropping.
"After you," I said gentlemanly, holding open the door.
She bowed. "Why, thank you, miss!"
I bowed back. "You're very welcome, miss!"
Our giggles stopped when we stepped in. The room was too quiet. There was a person in front. She frowned when she saw us. She had to be Lady Mamefusa.
"You're late," she said.
Yuuka and I stiffened. Heads down, we went to the back of the class and quietly seated.
"As I was saying, social deportment..." Lady Mamefusa said, "is the most essential attribute a young woman is judged upon in the marital marketplace. At least, for any young woman of class."
"Not…" She plucked the handheld mirror from a student in front. "... physical appearance."
"Not…" She confiscated the note between two girls. "... flirtatious sweet talk."
"Not…" She shut Setsu's book. "... misplaced conceptions of flagrant self-importance."
Lady Mamefusa circled back front. "If your goal is to be a spinster, you are welcome to leave."
No one did.
Lady Mamefusa gave a dry smile. "Then let's begin."
Social deportment, as our teacher described it, meant following certain rules.
Rule number one. Hygiene. Hygiene meant one bath a day. Three hair cleanses a week. Fresh undergarments daily. Clipped nails and groomed brows.
Rule number two. No cosmetics or ornamentations. Cosmetics included dyes, powders, nail polish, lotions, and fragrances. Ornamentations included jewelry, piercings, lace, and frills.
"Wait, why can't we have lotions? What if we have dry skin?"
Lady Mamefusa gave a thin smile.
"Then you are a girl with unhealthy skin. A cheap gift in a pretty furoshiki is still a cheap gift. If you want to swindle your husband into thinking he has made a better bargain than he has, by all means."
The student shrunk.
"You want to increase your valuation, then drink water. Put less garbage into your body. Turn off the television and sleep."
Rule number three. No magazines, no comics, no television, no novels.
The make-up rule was bad, but rule three made half the class cringe. Setsu was shaking.
"They are filthy, perverse, brain-rotting garbage. All that romance nonsense in particular. You did not receive an education to read the squabbles of other women. If you must read, inform yourself with journals in cooking, health, and childcare."
Setsu went from shaking to fuming. Worried, Ayame put a hand over Setsu's to make sure she didn't do something bad.
Rule number four. Posture. No slouching. No arm crossing. No leg spreading. No duck feet. No buck knees. Every movement should be done with energy, purpose, and grace.
Starting with rule number four, the lesson got painful. With her fan, Lady Mamefusa hit us wherever we went wrong. The head, the elbow, the back. We had to sit down and stand up over and over until she was satisfied.
"This is disgraceful," she said, hitting each girl in the back. "Straighten up. Straighten up."
She hit Dai, Setsu, and even Tamaki. She got to me and paused.
I smiled.
"Too straight," she said, whacking me too.
Oh come on!
Rule number five. No bad habits. No smoking, no drinking. But also no nail biting, no hair twirling, no leg shaking, no lip chewing, no pencil tapping.
Rule number six. Eloquence. Pronounce every syllable. Control speed, volume, and tone. Accents were unacceptable. Proper ladies spoke softly and deliberately, or not at all.
We spent hours just repeating syllables.
"... ta… na… no… no… oh dammit!"
Lady Mamefusa narrowed her eyes at me. I clapped my hands over my mouth.
"This shouldn't need to be said, but no cursing," she told the class.
I winced.
The rules went on. There were over two hundred of them. We covered twelve. By the end of the class, if we didn't hate Lady Mamefusa, we hated ourselves.
As we walked out, we were each given a grade.
Lady Mamefusa told us to be thankful that we were young and had time to improve. As girls, we were lucky. Boys were born into their positions, but girls could rise or fall depending on who we marry. And who we marry, a part of that was decided based on our choices and behaviors.
I unfolded my paper. 'Class D: Merchant.'
Dai got the same.
"Hey, high-five!"
We slapped hands.
Tamaki had gotten Class C: Scholar. Ayame had the highest out of us with Class B: Artisan.
Setsu had gotten Class E: Undesirable. It was the lowest grade. Setsu had refused to cooperate after Lady Mamefusa made fun of her books. Setsu ripped her paper apart. To be doubly disobedient, she took out her books from her backpack and held them in her arms. Head high, she stomped out.
We followed. As we did, we heard another group behind us.
"Oh my god, you got Class A?!"
"Of course I did."
And of course, that group had to be Blue Hair and her friends. Both Tamaki and I scowled.
"Unlike certain other people, I am destined to marry a shinobi."
"Genin," Tamaki mumbled.
"What was that, ugly?"
Oh no. Tamaki wasn't walking away.
"Everyone knows Class A is low-rung genin," Tamaki said aloud, lowering her eyelids. "But I guess some people will give anything to scrape the bottom of the barrel."
Oh no.
Before we knew it, Tamaki and Blue Hair were at each other.
"Singleton!"
"Parasite!"
"Leftovers!"
"Enjoy life as a spinster!"
"I'll read all about it in your book!"
"What is a spinster?" I whispered to Ayame. I kept hearing this word.
"It's someone who never gets married," Ayame whispered back.
"Oh. Oh!" I knew people like that.
Dai nodded seriously. "They have no husband so they never bother with chores. They just bum around the house, living with their parents and lots of cats."
I snapped my head. "Cats?! I want to be a spinster!" I said, pointing to myself. Getting to bum around the house with my dad didn't sound bad at all.
Well, getting married still sounded nice.
But cats! Lots of cats!
Maybe I could get both.
At dinner, I told my dad about school. Mostly I tried to convince him that we needed a cat. The answer was no. As a compromise, my dad and I promised to meet and greet all the village cats that we saw.
I told my dad about Lady Mamefusa too. I tried to remember all the rules she taught us, but there were so many. Out of the ones I did remember, though, my dad agreed with. Drink water. Eat food. Sleep lots.
When I showed him my paper, he looked very amused.
"Sorry it's not an A. I accidentally said a bad word, and I think Lady Mamefusa didn't like that," I said, biting my spoon. I added the puppy dog eyes just in case.
My dad shook his head. "Oh, don't you worry about that, sweetie!" he said, getting up. Smiling, he walked to the trash can and threw the paper inside.
I was taken aback. "Daddy?"
He sat back down at the table and leaned forward. "Honey, as you get older, you might hear more and more about something known as a class system. Do you know what that is?"
I shook my head.
My dad looked relieved. Patiently, he explained it was a made-up way of looking at people. Because there are so many people in the world, we like to group them based on things like jobs, money, and reputation. The class system was easy to understand, so many people use it when thinking about things.
But thinking that way wasn't necessarily always useful.
As an example of a different grouping, he drew a horizontal line and a vertical line. On the left were the people you liked, and on the right were the people you didn't. In the bottom were the people you could help, and at the top were the people you couldn't.
This was another made-up way of looking at people, but looking at things this way, you could see that you wanted to fit as many people to the left and bottom as you could.
He said I was free to come up with my own groupings too! It all depended on what I wanted to accomplish at the end of the day.
"Daddy, you teach way better than Lady Mamefusa," I said. "She's scary and not good at all."
"Now, now, don't be harsh on her, honey. She's not a trained teacher. Your school depends on volunteers and donations. The school doesn't pay her to come, but she took time out of her busy day to come anyway, so that you may have some lessons you may otherwise not have gotten."
I deflated.
He was right.
After dinner, I did my homework. It was another round of math nightmare. My dad got excited though, because I was finally doing stuff that he understood. All the new, squiggly things were the beginnings of something called calculus. It was his favorite subject!
We sat side by side at the table, working through every problem. He felt good at being able to help me with my homework again.
Thanks to him, I finished way earlier than usual.
I threw my arms up. "Yay! Done!"
"You know, sweetie, I just got an idea, now tell me if it's any good."
"What, daddy?"
He adjusted his glasses. "Well, all that talk of helping people got me thinking... What if I volunteered at your school? They send us all these letters asking for help, and I'm obviously not a teacher, but I can help out in other ways. Not every day, of course, but a little bit here and there…"
"What about your work?"
"I think I can figure something out."
"Then I think you should," I said, nodding.
My dad looked happy with the idea.
The classroom door slammed open the next morning. It was Yuuka, huffing.
Seeing her, the entire class clapped.
"Wow, you're early!" Mimi said.
"Wait, what?" Yuuka looked at the clock. "Dammit, my mom reset my clock again!" She blinked at us. "What's going on?"
The entire class was sitting in a circle, giving each other morning massages. Setsu and Ayame had started the trend a while back, but it caught on. Yuuka was never early enough to have been a part of it.
"Come in," I said, scooting to make room.
Yuuka sat in front of me. Soon, she was sighing happily.
"Harder! Harder!" she encouraged.
"Wow, you're so stiff," I said, doing stronger shoulder chops.
"Ugh, Lady Edamane wants to know why we slouch? Blame that stupid civics doorstopper! I swear it's like ten kilograms."
"Oh, stop complaining, Yuuka. At least you don't walk from District 18," Masae said behind me. "You're like thirty minutes away."
"Thirty-eight," Yuuka corrected.
I sweat-dropped, letting them bicker. As they did, though, my dad's diagram from last night popped into my head.
"... no, District 34 is definitely farther than 36. I've walked to where Yousuke lives, and it's like an hour and a half, at least." Yuuka turned. "Hey Ayae, something up?"
Catching myself, I resumed my chopping. "I think I have an idea!"
"What is it?"
"So the books are heavy for everyone?" I said, double checking.
It was.
"Oh my god, and it's only going to get worse once exams come around," Yuuka groaned. "They're going to assign us that Recitals 8 book again, I just know it."
"I'd take Recitals 8 over 7," Mimi said. "The vocabulary in 7 is awful- eep!"
Mimi jolted when Yuuka massaged her harder, an evil glint in her eyes. "Don't you dare complain, Mimi, Miss Straight As!"
"Poor Riku though," Masae said. "He really does need his own bike."
"Or no books!" I said.
Masae leaned in. "Eh? What do you mean?"
"Well, what if we put our textbooks inside summoning scrolls?"
The whole circle looked at me. Masae went wide-eyed.
"Ha!" Yuuka said, the only one unfazed. "You're forgetting we're not ninjas, Ayae."
On the other side of the circle, Tamaki recovered first. She understood where I was going.
"You don't need to be a ninja to use a summoning scroll," Tamaki said.
Heads turned in her direction, confused. We realized most students didn't know. Tamaki gave the whole latent versus active explanation. She did a better job explaining it than I did.
People looked to Ayame for confirmation. Ayame looked to Setsu.
"She's right," Setsu said, nodding. "As long as you have someone set it up for you, you don't need to know ninjutsu."
"But ninja tools aren't allowed in school," Masae said, her hands leaving my back.
"And besides, don't you need a license to buy them?" asked Reina. "We can't just go into a store and ask for one."
More questions popped up. But everyone was curious. To them, a summoning scroll was a shinobi weapon. You used them for fighting. It never occurred to them that the scrolls could be used to carry everyday stuff like clothes or books.
But my clan used them for everyday stuff all the time. It was super convenient.
I thought of Itachi's scroll and all the years it'd been with me. A warm bubbly feeling hit my stomach.
I decided! Everyone around me was pitching in to help the community, even my dad. It inspired me to do something good too. The summoning scroll would be how I'd help.
It would be what I'd share with everyone.
.
Before I could get summoning scrolls, I needed permission. There were two laws to worry about. One was at the village level, and one was at the school level.
After talking to Shisui, I learned we were already okay at the village level. Selling ninja tools to anyone without a license was prohibited. But civilians could own ninja tools as long as it was for non-military, non-aggressive purposes. The village tried to make the laws lenient, because they had many civilian clients coming in, and it would be a hassle to ask them all to drop off their stuff at the gate. That wasn't good for business.
The school was much stricter. The school rules would need to be rewritten.
… which was easy. I just had to cross out a few lines in the official rule book and write the new rules. Tamaki knew how to talk in fancy language, so she helped me out with that part.
Exception is the summoning scroll and shall be granted for…
She handed me the pen, and I wrote everyone's names. Done!
We high-fived.
Permission done, the next step was getting the scrolls themselves. The Academy had plenty of old, leftover scrolls. I thought of raiding the supply closets, but I didn't need to. Teacher Iruka was happy to donate. As a teacher, he understood the normal school didn't have the funds and needed to look to many places for donations.
"So you're enjoying your new school," Teacher Iruka said, handing me a basket.
"It's great!" I said.
He smiled. After I had left, he had been worried about me. He knew I had heavy expectations put on me, and he didn't know if I'd have a hard time adjusting. He was glad that he didn't need to worry after all.
I never realized that Teacher Iruka thought of me. But he did. He thought of all his students. Even after we had left the Academy, it was important to him that we were okay.
It was very moving. Teacher Iruka had been my strictest teacher, but he was only strict because he cared so much. He would be overjoyed if all his students liked him, but that was less important than all his students growing up well.
He patted my head. "Now, I trust you to not break any rules with these, Ayae," he said.
I nodded. "I promise!"
Lastly, I needed a chakra user. Aunt Mikoto gladly volunteered. So I brought my classmates to my district. They followed me, looking at everything in awe. There were whispers and excited nudges and pointing. Lots of pointing. It wasn't every day civilians stepped inside our district, so I gave them the big tour.
"So yeah, more trees… that's a police building… and those are more houses… and that's a tea place… by the way, we also have a lake and a bunch of temples and stuff back that way… oh, and I'm that way, but we're going this way…"
Once we were at the main house, I knocked. The excitement got louder.
"Ayae dear, perfect timing," Aunt Mikoto said, smiling. "You must be all of her new friends, please come inside."
Our shoes piled up.
"Oh my god, she's so beautiful," Reina whispered frantically.
"Her house is so beautiful! It's spotless!"
"I wonder what it looks like when there aren't guests around?"
"Oh, like this," I answered. Heads turned to me. "Well, without so many people. But it looks like this."
"Every day? How many maids does this house have?"
"None?" I didn't understand the question. It was a house, not an inn!
They looked stricken.
"Y-you mean, she…"
Aunt Mikoto came out from the kitchen, holding a tray. On it was a spiralling tower of snacks and tea. "Would anyone like refreshments?"
Everyone looked doubly-stricken.
I took a cookie. "Thank you, Auntie!"
Reina looked at her panda cookie, while Masae held up a bunny cookie.
"She made this…"
"It's definitely homemade," Reina said grimly. "It's warm."
"It's delicious!" Yuuka cried after a bite.
"This tea has sat out for precisely two minutes," Mimi said, tears trailing down. "It's at perfect drinking temperature."
"Her posture…"
"Her voice…"
"Her temperament…"
The girls fell to the ground, defeated. "THIS IS CLASS S!"
The boys weren't any more normal. They thanked Aunt Mikoto again and again, bowing and blushing. They were either extremely distant or extremely close, with no in-between.
Only the Dropouts were normal. Setsu and Ayame plopped on the couch. Tamaki helped hand out cups. Dai raided the fridge for milk.
Once everyone calmed and settled, we went into the dojo room. There, all the summoning scrolls were evenly spread out on the floor.
Everyone sat in front of one. As instructed, they took out their books and piled them on top.
Sayuri sat at the front. Aunt Mikoto knelt before her and opened her palms. Nervous, Sayuri glanced at Tamaki next to her, who nodded encouragingly.
Hesitantly, she took Aunt Mikoto's hand.
The scroll between them retracted.
"Ah!" Curious, Sayuri poked the scroll, then picked it up. "It's so light!"
"Let me see, let me see!"
"Whoa!"
The class chatted excitedly. Smiling, Aunt Mikoto took the next person's hands. One by one, she linked each of their chakra signatures to their scroll.
And it was done!
My classmates were amazed, poofing and unpoofing their stuff. They got used to them very fast. Some even tried throwing them like batons or playing catch.
Even the shy students stopped being scared. After all, Mimi slipped and dropped hers fifty different ways, but nothing bad ever happened.
To celebrate, we had a party afterward.
At some point, Sasuke came home. He took one look at the crowd, before walking right back out.
I tried to call him back in. "Hey, Sasuke, we're-"
"No."
I pouted, but got quickly dragged back in.
Around Aunt Mikoto was a large audience gushing with compliments. They asked how she managed such a big house all by herself. The girls asked if she had any tips to being a good housewife. They asked if she had been training since she was young, if that was how she was so good.
Aunt Mikoto laughed. "Actually, I was trained as a kunoichi. I never touched domestic arts until after I got married."
"What!"
"Oh yeah, Auntie, you were a jounin, weren't you," I said.
"Jounin?!"
"For fifteen years," Aunt Mikoto said. "I retired after Sasuke was born."
That was new information, even to me. In my head, I did some math. We had Aunt Mikoto's thirty-fourth birthday, minus seven, minus fifteen…
Twelve! Aunt Mikoto had been a jounin at our age?!
"But if you were a jounin, why would you retire?" Tamaki asked.
"Well, my husband, Fugaku, is a jounin too. We used to work together in the field. But after we had a child, it became necessary that at least one of us stayed home. At first we did rotations but…" Aunt Mikoto thought about how she was going to put this delicately. She decided she wasn't going to. "Well, it came down to comparative advantage. Even though I was ten times better in the shinobi arts, he was a hundred times worse in the domestic arts!"
Aunt Mikoto truly had no mercy! Smiling, she went on to list every one of Fugaku's failures, from cooking to laundry to shopping. "And I'm not even counting the war years! Honestly, Itachi, bless that child, I don't know how he survived, but it wasn't our parenting. I just knew I couldn't leave Sasuke to the same chance."
It was an easy choice. Aunt Mikoto never liked shinobi work that much. She did it because she was special and the only one who could do what the village needed. But after the last war, they didn't need her skills as much. So she was free to go, especially after her husband agreed to take over her responsibilities.
There was another reason too.
"In our clan, we have a special title called the clan lady," Aunt Mikoto explained. "You probably have never heard of it, but—"
"Oh no, we know!"
"Yes, we know everything!"
"You're the current clan lady, and Lady Tomoe is next in line!"
"Yes, yes, and Itachi is the clan heir, and he's going to marry her!"
Aunt Mikoto twitched. Keeping her smile, she asked, "May I ask how…?"
"Ayae told us!" everyone exclaimed, pointing to me.
I stopped mid-bite into a cookie. Under Aunt Mikoto's gaze, I shrunk. I took the cookie out of my mouth. "Um, that… wasn't a secret, was it?"
Aunt Mikoto recovered and shook her head. "Ah, no, you're fine, Ayae dear." Chuckling lightly, she tucked back her hair. "Well, since everyone knows, I won't bore you—"
"No, no, no!"
"Please tell us everything!"
But everything Aunt Mikoto said only led to more questions. In the end, she decided that if everyone wanted a story, then she would start at the beginning.
And so, we went back to thirty years ago, when the existing clan head had two granddaughters.
Their names were Masako and Mikoto, and they were evenly matched in every way. At six, both could cite the Sennin Shuuka without a single missed character. At seven, both could deflect a wave of senbon with a wave of their own. At eight, both could beat any opponent at go… except each other.
They were even, but they were as different as the black and white stones on the board. While Mikoto was light and soft and joyous, Masako was dark and sharp and melancholy. Mikoto was childish and charming, playful and open. Masako was mature and elegant, dutiful and private.
One of them would be the next clan lady.
Meanwhile, two boys in the clan rose above all others, two boys who were capable of seizing the title of clan heir. From one family was Fugaku. From another family was... Mr. Dirtbag.
Between the two potential clan heirs, there was a much larger gap. Mr. Dirtbag was older. He was stronger, faster, and better… or at least, he thought he was. He beat Fugaku in everything.
Masako and Mikoto chose to be kind to each other. No matter how the clan pitted them, they loved and respected each other. They saw in each other a sister and a friend.
Mr. Dirtbag and Fugaku were mean to each other. Their relationship was one of constant rivalry and humiliation. The more they competed, the more they projected their hate and bitterness on the other person.
The fighting worsened when the clan head began showing preference for Mikoto. Mr. Dirtbag wanted to be the next clan head. He would do anything to marry the next clan lady. But Fugaku wanted to marry Mikoto too. No matter how many times Mr. Dirtbag kicked him down, he got up. No matter how many times he lost, he kept trying.
One day, the news came that Mr. Dirtbag was going to challenge Mikoto in a fire duel. If she lost to him, then she would agree to marry him. Mikoto was only thirteen at the time. He was twenty-two.
Fugaku was horrified when he heard. He found Mr. Dirtbag and said if he wanted to challenge Mikoto, he would have to get through him first. This, despite having never beaten Mr. Dirtbag before. This, despite knowing he could easily die in such a challenge.
It was one of the bravest things Mikoto had seen anyone do.
"So? Did he win?"
"He must have! Against all odds, he won!"
"Nope," Aunt Mikoto said.
The audience collapsed.
Fugaku was brave, but also kind of stupid. So was Mr. Dirtbag, honestly. After Mr. Dirtbag sent Fugaku to the hospital, Mikoto sent Mr. Dirtbag to the hospital next.
Both seemed to have forgotten Mikoto outranked them both.
However, Mikoto knew Mr. Dirtbag was not going to give up his pursuit of her. As long as he was the strongest boy and she was the strongest girl, the clan would pressure them to get together.
So she made a decision. At the next go match against Masako, Mikoto placed one piece just one square too left. And because of that one misplaced piece, fifty turns later, the entire clan saw their tie finally break.
The clan head began to favor Masako, and very quickly, Mr. Dirtbag began to favor Masako too. The only one whose feelings didn't change was Fugaku's.
When Mr. Dirtbag and Masako were declared the successors, Fugaku and Mikoto were far away on a boat. They had escaped to be together. The whole ride, her eyes had been closed. When he took off her blindfold, she was greeted by the glows of a thousand fireflies.
As they grew up, Fugaku and Mikoto became increasingly inseparable. They were together on missions. They were together in war. They were together when they moved into their first house, a little two-story far away from the rest of the clan and their politics. In that two-story they had prepared two bedrooms, one for them and one for their new daughter.
Unfortunately those bedrooms would end up abandoned and forgotten, gathering years of dust.
No one thought Masako and her husband would both die on the same night, leaving behind their daughters. Or how Mikoto's daughter would not be a daughter at all, but a son.
Mikoto thought she defied fate when she cast aside her title alongside that stone. She had only delayed it.
The clan head and clan lady were not figureheads. They were not meant to inspire; they were meant to rule. And ruling the Uchiha meant putting the interest of the Uchiha above all. The clan head must achieve external harmony. The clan lady must achieve internal harmony. These goals must be met no matter the cost.
Aunt Mikoto fell quiet.
Finally, she said, "People grow, and they change, and they adapt. Under the right pressures, we will mold into the roles that were cut out for us." She put on a gentle smile. "To be honest, we both started off unprepared and terrible at our new jobs. But over time, we got better."
Mikoto learned how to negotiate and pacify. Fugaku learned how to lead and command. By the end of the next war, they had both transformed into the people the clan needed them to be.
My classmates all clapped excitedly.
Afterward, everyone went back into happy conversation. I turned to Tamaki.
"What is it, Tamaki?"
Tamaki broke out of her thoughts. She shook her head. "Ah, nothing. It's just… I keep forgetting how incredible your clan is."
I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"
Tamaki looked at Aunt Mikoto, who was clearing away used cups. "Itachi's parents have fought in two wars. Not only that… they must have fought in the first battalion both times."
"Eh?!"
Setsu slowly nodded. "That's what I assumed too."
"Is that important?" Ayame asked. She had dropped out of the Academy before we covered that section.
"The first battalion is Konoha's front line. It's our most powerful offensive. It's our most dangerous too. For any normal shinobi on that line, the survival rate of a single battle is four percent." Tamaki was shaking. "During the Third War, the first battalion faced eighteen battles in total."
Ayame went wide eyed.
"It wasn't what won the war. But without it, we couldn't have won."
"It feels so close and so distant at the same time," Setsu said, curling inwards. "Do you guys remember the sirens? They used to give me the worst headaches."
Ayame nodded. "You had to close the windows, and even then you could still hear."
"I just remember the shaking," Dai said. "My dad still won't put stuff on our top shelves because of it."
My friends talked more about the war. I kept quiet. I looked at Aunt Mikoto, who was talking with a new crowd. She looked very happy and was giggling at times. She also looked sad. Did the story upset her?
After everyone left, I helped Aunt Mikoto with the dishes.
"Auntie?"
"Yes, Ayae dear?"
"About the clan lady stuff… I'm sorry if I said anything I shouldn't have. I hadn't thought to ask, and that was wrong of me."
Aunt Mikoto turned off the faucet. She patted her hands dry and crouched down before me.
"No need to worry about that, Ayae dear. We had the choice of deciding what and what not to share with you. And we understood that anything we left with you is yours - yours to keep and yours to tell."
"Really?"
"Really."
I beamed.
"People are kept alive through stories, and stories are kept alive through people." Aunt Mikoto smiled. "So I do believe it is good that our stories are told. And I do believe you, Ayae dear, may be the best one to tell them."
