Chapter 3: The Jonin's Verdict

The Drunken Leaf, a bar tucked in Konoha's quieter district, hummed with the low chatter of off-duty shinobi. Lanterns swayed, casting flickers across worn wooden tables, and the faint tang of sake mingled with grilled meat. Four jonin claimed a corner booth, their voices a blend of exhaustion and camaraderie after a long day of testing their swapped genin teams. Kakashi Hatake slouched against the wall, mask up, eye half-lidded over a cup of sake . Asuma Sarutobi puffed a cigarette, smoke curling as he nursed a bottle. Kurenai Yuhi sat poised, sipping rice wine, her crimson eyes sharp despite the late hour. Might Guy, ever the spark, grinned wide, his bowl-cut gleaming under the light, a towering mug of something suspiciously green untouched. The tests were done—Team 7, Team 8, Team 10 put through their paces and now came the reckoning: pass or fail, and what each team revealed.

--

Asuma leaned back, exhaling smoke that danced toward the ceiling. "Alright, let's get this over with. My turn first, Team 7, Kakashi's brats." He tapped ash into a tray, smirking faintly. "Sasuke, Sakura, Naruto. They kept the scroll, barely, but calling them a team's generous."

Kakashi's eye crinkled, curious but silent, letting Asuma roll on. "Sasuke's got skill," Asuma said, swirling his sake. "High genin, maybe low chunin if you squint. His shurikenjutsu's tight, pinned me with wires, good traps. Fire jutsu's got bite, too, scorched half the clearing. But he's a lone wolf. Fought like the others didn't exist, left Sakura hanging and ignored Naruto's… whatever that was."

Kurenai raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine. "Sounds like an Uchiha. What about the girl?"

"Sakura?" Asuma snorted, shaking his head. "Smart as a whip—booksmart, anyway. Kept yelling plans, some half-decent, like decoys. But her fighting skills are a joke, couldn't hit me if I stood still. Panicked every time I got close, tripped over her own feet. She's dead weight in a fight, though she's got heart. Barely."

Guy leaned forward, fist clenched, eyes sparkling. "Heart is the spark of youth! She'll bloom, Asuma, mark my words!" His voice boomed, drawing glares from nearby tables. Kakashi sighed, sipping tea.

Asuma ignored Guy, his gaze sharpening. "Then there's Naruto." He paused, puffing smoke, brow furrowing. "Kid's a puzzle. Plays the clown, giggles like a nutcase, tossing these weird sticks. Sotoba, he called 'em, grave markers with sutras. Tough as hell, blocked my knives, even nicked my sleeve. He's fast, too, flipping through trees like it's a game, stronger than he looks. But he's not trying. Half his moves felt… off, like he's hiding something. Sabotaged Sakura once, 'accidentally' yeah, right. No teamwork, just his own agenda."

Kakashi's eye flicked up, interested. "Hiding something, huh?" His tone was dry, but a faint edge suggested he'd file that away.

Asuma shrugged, stubbing his cigarette. "They held the scroll, so they scraped by. But no unity, Sasuke's ego, Sakura's flops, Naruto's games. If I was grading teamwork, they'd bomb. Pass 'em, though. Sasuke's got raw talent, Sakura might grow, and Naruto… well, he's too weird to write off." He grinned, pouring more sake. "Your call, Kakashi."

Kakashi nodded, noncommittal. "Noted. My turn, Team 8, Kurenai's kids. Hinata, Kiba, Shino. Bell test, my spin on it." He set his tea down, voice lazy but precise. "Two bells, one hour, work together or lose. They didn't get 'em, but they came close."

Kurenai leaned in, wine glass pausing. "Close? That's high praise from you."

Kakashi's mask twitched, a smirk underneath. "Hinata's shy but sharp. Her Byakugan spotted my traps early, saved Kiba from a pitfall. Her taijutsu's gentle, too soft for now, but she landed a palm strike when I let her close. Needs confidence, but she's got potential. Kiba's a brawler,decent taijutsu, reckless, rushed me head-on with Akamaru. Good nose, sniffed out my clone, but he's loud, sloppy. Shino's the anchor. Bugs tracked me through smoke, nearly pinned me with a swarm. He's quiet, tactical, but slow to lead. They tried to coordinate, Hinata scouted, Shino planned, Kiba charged, but Kiba's ego threw it off, and Hinata hesitated at the end."

Guy slammed a fist on the table, rattling cups. "A fiery effort! Their youth burns bright, Kakashi!" Asuma coughed on smoke, waving him down.

"They failed the bell grab," Kakashi continued, unfazed, "but they shared ideas, covered each other's backs. Better than my lot, Asuma. I'd pass 'em, Shino's got a brain, Hinata's got eyes, Kiba's got guts. They'll gel with time."

Kurenai nodded, satisfied, then set her glass down. "Team 10, my turn. Ino, Shikamaru, Choji. I ran a genjutsu test, trap them in an illusion, see how they break out or work together. Asuma, you know these three." She smiled, but her eyes held a glint of frustration.

Asuma grinned, leaning back. "Oh, I'm listening. How'd my slackers do?"

Kurenai's lips quirked. "Shikamaru's a genius, no shock there. Saw through my genjutsu in ten minutes, analyzed shadows, of all things, to spot the distortion. Didn't bother fighting, just talked Ino and Choji through it. Problem is, he's lazy. Barely moved 'til I pushed him. Ino's got spirit, her mind-transfer jutsu's shaky but promising, and she's quick with kunai. Too focused on her hair, though, and she bickered with Shikamaru nonstop. Choji's solid, strong taijutsu, good heart, But he's too reliant on the others, froze when Ino yelled."

She sighed, sipping wine. "They cracked the illusion, barely, because Shikamaru dragged them along. Teamwork's there, but it's messy, Ino's ego, Choji's doubts, Shikamaru's whining. I'd pass them, though. Shikamaru's brain's worth ten genin, and Ino and Choji'll catch up if he leads."

Asuma laughed, raising his bottle. "That's my crew. Shikamaru'll complain, but he'll deliver. Good call."

Guy couldn't hold back any longer, leaping to his feet, arms wide. "Fools! You speak of potential, but my Team is the blazing pinnacle of Konoha's youth!" His teeth gleamed, a thumb jabbed at himself. "Lee, Neji, Tenten, they've been genin nearly a year, and they're unmatched! Lee's taijutsu could shatter mountains! Neji's Byakugan sees all, his Gentle Fist unstoppable! Tenten's weapons rain like a storm! They'd have snatched your bells, Kakashi, burned through your illusions, Kurenai, and guarded that scroll like a fortress, Asuma!" He struck a pose, nearly toppling the table.

Kakashi's eye rolled. "Guy, your team's not up for review. Sit down."

Guy ignored him, fist clenched. "Their teamwork is a symphony of power! Last week, Lee ran fifty laps around Konoha, backward! Neji disarmed twenty traps blindfolded! Tenten hit a bullseye from a mile away! No genin compares!" He dropped back into his seat, grinning, mug still untouched.

Kurenai smirked. "They're good, Guy, but they're not perfect. I saw Lee trip during a spar last month."

Guy gasped, clutching his heart. "A youthful stumble, nothing more!"

Asuma waved smoke away, chuckling. "Enough, Guy. Back to business." He glanced at Kakashi. "So, Team 7. You buying what I saw? They're a mess, but there's something there."

Kakashi leaned forward, tea steaming. "Sasuke's got edge, but he'll crash if he stays solo. Sakura's brain might save her if she toughens up. Naruto…" He paused, mask hiding a frown. "Those sotoba sound like trouble. I'll keep an eye on him. They pass, for now. Gotta mold 'em before they break."

Kurenai nodded, setting her glass down. "Team 10 passes, too. Shikamaru's the glue, but Ino and Choji need pushing. They'll make it."

Kakashi raised his cup, a mock toast. "Team 8's in. Hinata's spark needs fanning, Kiba needs a leash, Shino's solid. They'll grow."

Asuma poured another round, smoke curling. "Three teams, three headaches. Here's to surviving 'em." The jonin clinked drinks, Guy with his green monstrosity, laughter mixing with the bar's hum. Outside, Konoha slept, unaware of the shadows its new genin cast.

Chapter 4: Whispers of Graves and Treachery

Konoha basked in the golden haze of late afternoon, its streets pulsing with life, vendors haggling, children darting through alleys, and shinobi weaving through the crowds, their headbands glinting. Yet in the Hokage's office, high above the village, the air was thick with the weight of decisions. The room, lined with scrolls and shadowed by shelves, smelled faintly of ink and old wood. Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, sat behind his desk, pipe smoldering, his weathered face etched with the calm of a man who'd seen too much. Before him stood three jonin, Kakashi Hatake, Asuma Sarutobi, and Kurenai Yuhi, reporting on their swapped genin tests, their voices steady but laced with the stakes of molding Konoha's future.

--

The Jonin's Report

Asuma spoke first, leaning casually against a wall, cigarette unlit out of respect for Hiruzen's office. "Team 7, Kakashi's lot, Sasuke, Sakura, Naruto. They kept the scroll I threw at 'em, but teamwork?" He snorted, scratching his beard. "Might as well ask a cat to herd mice. Sasuke's a one-man army, sharp shurikenjutsu, solid fire jutsu, but he left Sakura twisting in the wind and barely glanced at Naruto. Kid's got Uchiha grit, but he'll crash if he doesn't learn to share the load."

Hiruzen puffed his pipe, smoke curling like a ghost. "And Sakura?"

Asuma grimaced. "Brain's her best weapon, spouted decent plans, decoy ideas, straight outta the academy books. But in a fight? Disaster. Couldn't land a kunai, tripped over roots, froze when I got close. Heart's there, but she's a liability until she toughens up."

Hiruzen nodded "Sounds like she needs time. What about Naruto.

Asuma's grin faded, his tone sharpening. "Naruto's… something else. Plays the fool, giggling like he's cracked, tossing these grave markers, sotoba, with sutras carved in. They're tough, blocked my wind chakra, hit trees like steel. He's fast, strong, flips through branches like a ghost. But he's not all in, half his moves felt staged, like he's testing me, not fighting. 'Accidentally' tripped Sakura, messed with Sasuke's traps. No team spirit, just his own game."

Hiruzen's eyes narrowed, pipe pausing mid-puff. "Sotoba?" His mind flicked back, years ago, a small boy with yellow-grayish hair, barely five, caught kneeling by Konoha's graves, tracing tombstones, whispering about "guests." Villagers had shunned him then, muttering "demon," but Hiruzen saw grief, not malice. Now, the memory stirred unease. "Naruto and graves… that's not new," he murmured, voice low, almost to himself.

Kakashi, slouched by the window, mask hiding all but a bored eye, caught the shift. "He's always been odd, Hokage-sama. Those sotoba sound like more than a quirk. The boy us hiding his skills." His tone was dry, but his gaze sharpened, filing away Hiruzen's reaction.

Kurenai took her turn, standing straight. "Team 10, Ino, Shikamaru, Choji. My genjutsu test had them trapped in an illusion. Shikamaru cracked it fast, spotting shadow distortions like it was a puzzle game. Lazy, though, only moved when I pushed. Ino's got fire, decent kunai work, but her mind-transfer's raw, and she's too vain. Choji's strong, loyal, but hesitates without direction. They escaped, barely, thanks to Shikamaru dragging them. Teamwork's shaky, but it's there. I'd pass them."

Asuma grinned, proud of his students despite their flaws. "That's my crew. Shikamaru'll whine, but he'll deliver."

Kakashi went last, voice lazy but precise. "Team 8, Hinata, Kiba, Shino. Bell test, two bells, one hour. No bells grabbed, but they tried. Hinata's Byakugan caught my traps, saved Kiba from a fall. She's soft, needs nerve, but there's steel under it. Kiba's a reckless brawler, good nose, sloppy moves. Shino's the brain, bugs nearly cornered me, but he's too quiet to lead. They shared plans, covered flanks, better than Team 7's mess. Pass 'em, Hinata's eyes, Kiba's guts, Shino's tactics'll grow."

Hiruzen exhaled smoke, nodding slowly. "Three teams, three futures. Pass them all, then. Mold them carefully, Konoha needs their strength, but not their fractures." His gaze lingered on Kakashi. "Naruto's sotoba… watch him, Kakashi. Graves don't speak lightly." The warning hung, heavy as the pipe's haze, as the jonin bowed and left, the door clicking shut behind them.

--

Dusk painted Konoha's streets in amber and shadow, the bustle softening as villagers headed home. Naruto Uzumaki sat on a weathered bench by the market square, yellow-grayish hair spilling over his crooked kasa hat, single braid swaying as he giggled at passersby. A vendor flinched, clutching her basket tighter, muttering "freak" under her breath as Naruto's high, jagged laugh followed her. An old man hurried past, avoiding eye contact, his steps quickening at the sight of Naruto's black fingernails twirling a prayer bead. A group of kids froze mid-game, one whispering, "That's the demon kid," before their mother yanked them away, shooting Naruto a glare. His giggle sharpened, relishing their fear, a Reaper's amusement at mortal unease.

Mizuki, a chunin with silver hair and a practiced smile, approached, his steps casual but eyes sharp. "Naruto," he said, voice smooth, sitting beside him. "How'd the real genin exam go?"

Naruto's grin faltered, his face crumpling into a theatrical pout, eyes wide and shimmering with fake tears. "Oh, Mizuki-sensei, it was awful!" he wailed, voice cracking for effect, hands flopping dramatically to his scarf. "Sasuke was all 'grr, I'm the best,' Sakura kept tripping, and me? I just giggled and threw sticks! Asuma-sensei probably thinks we're hopeless. We're gonna fail, I know it!" He sniffled, peeking through his bangs, testing Mizuki's reaction.

Mizuki's smile tightened, sensing an opening. "Fail, huh? That's rough, kid." He leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspirator's whisper. "But there's a way to skip the genin slog, jump straight to chunin, maybe higher. Interested?"

Naruto's pout vanished, replaced by a curious tilt of his head, lockets clinking. "Chunin? Me?" His tone was eager, but his eyes flickered, chartreuse glinting like a predator spotting bait. "What's the trick, sensei?"

Mizuki glanced around, ensuring no eavesdroppers, then leaned in. "The Scroll of Seals, Naruto. It's in the Hokage's office, loaded with forbidden jutsu, the kind that'd make you a legend overnight. Steal it, bring it to me, and I'll teach you a technique to rocket you past your team. Easy, right? A kid like you, sneaky as you are, could pull it off."

Naruto blinked, then clapped his hands, giggling like a child offered candy. "Steal a scroll? Ooh, sounds like a game!" His voice was bright, but his fingers stilled on his beads, mind racing, Reaper instincts sniffing out Mizuki's greed, his lie. "I'm in, sensei! Where do we meet?"

Mizuki smirked, pleased at the bite. "The old shrine in the forest, midnight. Don't get caught, kid." He stood, brushing off his vest, and vanished into the crowd, leaving Naruto alone, his giggle echoing softly, a promise darker than Mizuki could grasp.

--

Midnight cloaked the forest, the old shrine a crumbling relic under starlight, its torii gate leaning, moss choking the stone steps. Naruto waited, perched on a cracked altar, yellow-grayish hair glowing faintly, kasa hat tilted back. His grin was gone, replaced by a cold, Reaper's stare, chartreuse eyes scanning the dark.

Mizuki emerged from the trees, his smile smug, a kunai glinting in one hand. "Naruto," he called, voice sharp. "Hand over the scroll. Let's make you a star."

Naruto tilted his head, sotoba tapping his thigh. "Scroll?" His voice was soft, lilting, but edged with mockery. "Oh, Mizuki-sensei, I forgot something funny." He hopped down, landing silently, scars stark on his face. "I didn't take it."

Mizuki's smile froze, eyes narrowing. "What? You little, don't play games, brat! Where's the scroll?" His grip tightened, kunai rising.

Naruto giggled, high and chilling, stepping closer, sotoba twirling. "Games? I love games. But you're playing a bad one, sensei. Stealing Hokage stuff? Tsk tsk." His eyes flared phosphorescent, scars glowing faintly. "Why don't you tell me the real plan? Like, say… who you're working for?"

Mizuki snarled, patience snapping. "You're dead, demon!" He lunged, kunai slashing for Naruto's throat, chakra flaring with chunin speed. Naruto moved, a blur, Reaper agility unveiled, dodging with a spin, sotoba cracking Mizuki's wrist like iron. The kunai flew, embedding in the shrine's wood. Mizuki stumbled, clutching his arm, shock widening his eyes.

"Oopsie!" Naruto sang, giggling, as he swung the sotoba again, striking Mizuki's knee. Bone cracked, and Mizuki fell, gasping. "You're not very good at this, are you?" Naruto circled, scarf trailing, lockets clinking like a death knell. Mizuki threw a shuriken, desperate, Naruto batted it aside with the sotoba, sutras flashing green.

The fight was no fight at all. Naruto danced, sotoba a whirlwind, slamming Mizuki's ribs, snapping his collarbone, pinning his leg to the ground with a thrown marker. Mizuki screamed, blood pooling, his chakra fading. Naruto crouched, face inches from his, chartreuse eyes blazing. "Shh, sensei. Guests don't yell." His giggle was a blade, and the final sotoba strike crushed Mizuki's skull, silencing him forever.

Naruto stood, blood flecking his robe, and raised his hand. A flicker of Reaper power stirre, Mizuki's Cinematic Record unspooled, a shimmering reel of memories. Naruto watched, eyes cold, as Mizuki's life played out: his fake smiles with Iruka, masking bitter hate; comrades betrayed in missions, slaughtered with excuses of "holding him back"; a shadowed meeting with Orochimaru, Mizuki kneeling, pledging loyalty for power; the scroll plot, a trap to weaken Konoha. Naruto's lips curled, disgusted yet intrigued, Orochimaru's name was a gem to tuck away.

His fingers danced, editing the record with forbidden skill. He wove a new ending, Mizuki's body twitched, eyes blank, rising as a Bizarre Doll, soulless but obedient. "Not my best work," Naruto murmured, giggling, "but you'll do for now." He patted the Doll's cheek, its jerky nod a mockery of life,. The shrine fell silent, blood soaking the stone, Naruto's giggle the only echo.

--

Dawn broke, painting Konoha in soft pinks. The village stirred, unaware of the shrine's violence, as the jonin visited their genin to deliver verdicts.

Sakura's Visit: Kakashi appeared at Sakura's modest home, knocking lightly. She opened the door, pink hair tied back, eyes nervous. "Kakashi-sensei?" Her voice trembled, expecting failure.

Kakashi leaned against the frame, eye half-lidded. "You passed, Sakura." Her relief was instant, a grin breaking free, but he raised a hand. "Don't celebrate yet. You're smart, smarter than most, but you're a liability. Tripping, missing throws, freezing up? That gets people killed. Step up, or quit. Konoha doesn't carry dead weight." His tone was blunt, no warmth, cutting deeper than a kunai.

Sakura's grin faded, her fists clenching. "I… I'll get better, sensei. I swear." Kakashi nodded, vanishing in smoke, leaving her staring at the empty porch, resolve hardening in her chest.

Sasuke's Visit: Kakashi found Sasuke at the Uchiha compound, training alone, shuriken thudding into a target. The boy paused, sensing him, dark eyes wary. "What?"

"You passed," Kakashi said, stepping into view, mask hiding his expression. "Good work with the scroll, your traps were solid, fire jutsu's got edge. But you're not an army, Sasuke. Ignoring your team? That's a death sentence. No one survives alone, not even an Uchiha." His eye bored into Sasuke, heavy with unspoken history.

Sasuke's jaw tightened, fingers twitching. "I don't need them." His voice was cold, but a flicker of doubt betrayed him.

Kakashi tilted his head. "Keep thinking that, and you'll bury yourself." He left without another word, smoke curling where he stood, Sasuke's shuriken hitting the target harder, cracks spiderwebbing the wood.

Naruto's Visit: Kakashi arrived at Naruto's apartment, a cramped building near Konoha's edge, paint peeling, windows dim. He knocked, and Naruto's voice chirped, "Door's open, sensei!" Kakashi stepped in, eye sweeping the room, sparse, with a rickety table, a single chair, and, jarringly, a polished black coffin in the corner, its lid carved with faint sutras, gleaming like a shrine. Naruto sat cross-legged on the floor, yellow-grayish hair loose, scarf pooled around him, offering a plate of biscuits and a steaming teapot. "Snack time, Kakashi-sensei? Baked these myself!" His grin was wide, scars stark, lockets clinking as he poured tea.

Kakashi's gaze lingered on the coffin, unease prickling despite his calm. Naruto caught it, giggling, his chartreuse eyes twinkling. "Oh, that old thing?" He hopped up, patting the coffin like a pet. "Comfy, right? Keeps the nightmares cozy! Wanna try it? I'd make you a smaller one, but you're kinda tall." His laugh was high, teasing, but carried a Reaper's edge, daring Kakashi to ask more.

Kakashi declined the tea with a wave, sitting on the chair, mask unmoving. "Interesting decor, Naruto. Not what I expected." He paused, eye narrowing. "You passed, by the way. Asuma's report, said you held your own. Fast, strong, those sotoba of yours caught his eye. Blocked his knives, pierced trees. But he thinks you're holding back, playing games. Sabotaged Sakura, too. Care to explain?"

Naruto's giggle sharpened, sipping his own tea, beads rattling. "Me? Holding back? Nah, sensei, I'm just having fun!" He leaned forward, scars catching the light, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Sotoba's just sticks, you know? Found 'em in a graveyard, thought they'd spice things up. Sakura tripped 'cause she's clumsy, not my fault!" lockets swaying, every word a dodge, his grin a mask over Mizuki's blood still fresh in his mind.

Kakashi leaned back, studying him. "Sticks, huh? Funny how they act like steel." His tone was light, but his eye probed, catching the coffin's gleam, Naruto's scars, the eerie ease. "Asuma said you're no team player. Fix that, or you'll drag everyone down with you."

Naruto tilted his head, giggling again, softer now. "Team player? Sure thing, sensei. I'll be super helpful next time!" His fingers traced a locket, mind already spinning "More biscuits?" he offered, grin wide, but Kakashi shook his head, rising.

"Keep the biscuits," Kakashi said, stepping to the door. "And maybe rethink the coffin. Doesn't scream 'team spirit.'" He vanished in smoke, leaving Naruto alone, his giggle echoing in the dim room, the coffin's sutras pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat from the grave.

--

The sun climbed higher, Konoha waking to another day, its rhythm unbroken. But in the shadows, graves, forests, a boy's apartment, Naruto's laugh lingered, a Reaper's promise weaving through the village's pulse. Naruto sat, sipping tea, his sotoba stacked neatly by the coffin, each one a step toward a world where death bowed to him.