Anko Mitarashi did not leave a room; she detonated out of it.
"Training Ground 44! Tomorrow! One P.M.!" she shouted over her shoulder, already halfway out the shattered window. "Bring your consent forms or don't bother showing up!"
She vanished.
The room stayed silent for a solid three seconds.
"Did she just… break the window and leave?" Naruto asked, staring at the jagged glass. "The door was right there."
"She's efficient," I said, even though my heart was doing Olympic-level gymnastics in my chest. Sugar and knives.
"She's crazy," Shikamaru corrected, putting his head back on the desk. "This whole exam is crazy. I should have stayed in bed."
Ibiki cleared his throat. The sound was heavy enough to crack a walnut.
"You heard the proctor," he said, and suddenly he was just a scary man with a stack of papers again, the oppressive torture-chamber aura dialed back to a manageable strict-teacher vibe. "Collect your forms on the way out. Dismissed."
The tension snapped. The room exploded into chatter, scraping chairs, and the frantic energy of sixty genin realizing they'd survived the first hurdle only to be told the second one involved something called the Forest of Death.
We shuffled out. I grabbed three forms from the stack, handing one to Naruto and one to Sasuke.
"Consent forms," Naruto read, squinting at the dense kanji. "What for?"
"Liability," I said, scanning the fine print. "'The village of Konohagakure is not responsible for loss of limb, life, sanity, or belongings…' Standard 'if you die, don't sue us' stuff."
Sasuke folded his neatly and pocketed it. "Hn. Just means the next stage allows killing."
"You say that like it's a weather report," I muttered.
We walked out into the late afternoon sun. The air felt cleaner outside, free of the ink-and-anxiety smell of the classroom.
"So," Naruto said, stretching his arms over his head. "We got until tomorrow afternoon? That's plenty of time to train! We should go over strategy! We should—"
"We should rest," Sasuke cut in. "And restock."
"And eat," I added. "My brain used too many calories inventing fake answers."
"Restock!" Naruto agreed immediately, pivoting. "Ninja tools shop! Then ramen!"
"Actually," I said, stopping.
They both looked back.
I twisted a lock of my hair around my finger. It was sandy-blonde, limp, and currently dull with dust and stress. Just like Naruto's. Just like Ino's. Just like half the village.
Just like a background character.
"I have an errand," I said. "You guys go ahead. I'll meet you at the training ground in the morning."
Naruto blinked. "By yourself? But we're a team!"
"I need… girl supplies," I lied smoothly.
Naruto turned bright red and immediately backed up three steps. "Okay! Yep! See you tomorrow! Bye!"
He grabbed Sasuke's arm and dragged him off before Sasuke could ask follow-up questions.
I watched them go, then turned and headed for the commercial district.
I didn't need girl supplies. Well, I did, but not the kind Naruto was imagining.
I needed a change.
I found Ino exactly where I expected to find her: inside her family's flower shop, aggressively de-thorning roses like they owed her money.
"Hey," I said, the bell dinging above me.
She looked up, saw me, and immediately dropped the shears.
"Sylvie! You survived!" She vaulted the counter—because Ino did not believe in walking around things—and landed in front of me. "Tell me everything. Was Ibiki terrifying? Did Sasuke cry? Did Naruto cry?"
"Ibiki has scars older than my entire bloodline," I said. "Naruto screamed at him until we passed. It was a whole thing."
Ino rolled her eyes fondly. "Of course he did. Loudmouth."
She looked me up and down, blue eyes narrowing critically. Then she reached out and tugged a strand of my hair.
"You look like a dust mop," she informed me.
"Thank you," I said. "I was going for 'urban camouflage.'"
"It's not working. It just looks… beige." She wrinkled her nose. "With Naruto on your team, you guys are too yellow. It's monochromatic. You need contrast."
"That's actually why I'm here," I admitted.
My gaze slid toward a bucket of bright lilies near the window—tiger orange, violent violet, and a soft, stubborn pink.
"I want to dye it," I said.
Ino's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Finally? I've been telling you for months that sandy-blonde does nothing for your complexion. What are we thinking? Darker? Red?"
"Pink," I said.
Ino blinked. "Pink?"
"Like cherry blossoms," I said. "But… tougher. Less 'falling off the tree,' more 'poisonous flower you shouldn't touch.'"
Ino stared at me for a second, then a slow, delighted grin spread across her face.
"Get in the back," she ordered, pointing to the stairs. "I have a mixing bowl and I am not afraid to use it."
An hour later, I sat in front of the mirror in Ino's bathroom, a towel draped over my shoulders and my head smelling like chemicals.
"It's going to be bright," Ino warned, peeling off her gloves. "Like, bright bright. You sure about this?"
I looked at my reflection. The girl in the mirror looked tired. My glasses were smudge-prone, my features soft, my history invisible.
"I'm tired of blending in," I said.
Also, if my life insisted on treating my hair as symbolism, I might as well pick the loudest possible color.
"Wash it out," Ino commanded.
I dunked my head under the faucet. The water ran clear, then pale ruby.
When I towel-dried it and looked up, the sandy-blonde was gone.
In its place was pink.
Not a soft, pastel whisper of pink. This was vibrant. Deep. The color of raw chakra or a fresh bruise or a really aggressive sunset.
It stood out against the black of my glasses and the dark green orphanage walls I usually stared at.
Ino whistled. "Okay. Yeah. That works."
She grabbed a brush and started yanking it through the damp tangles.
"It makes your eyes look greener," she decided. "And it definitely says 'I am not Naruto's sister,' which is a plus."
"Was that a concern?"
"People talk," she said darkly. "Anyway. Now you look like… you."
I touched the ends.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I do."
We spent the next hour debating hairstyles (I insisted on keeping it practical; Ino insisted on 'volume') before I finally escaped with a promise to not die in the Forest of Death so she could say "I told you so" about the color later.
Walking back to the orphanage, I caught my reflection in a shop window.
Pink hair. Pink-trimmed top. Dark shorts.
I looked like a candy-colored warning label.
"All right," I told the reflection. "Phase two. Let's go get traumatized in the woods."
The next morning, I arrived at Training Ground 44 early.
The place lived up to the name. A massive wire fence stretched up toward the sky, topped with barbed wire and warning signs that basically screamed DO NOT ENTER in red paint.
Beyond the fence, trees the size of office buildings loomed, blocking out the sun. The shadows were thick and smelled like rot.
Naruto and Sasuke were already there.
Naruto was vibrating with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Sasuke was leaning against a post, looking cool and constipated.
"Hey," I said, walking up.
Naruto spun around. "Sylvie! You're—"
He stopped. His jaw dropped.
"WHOA!"
Sasuke looked up. His eyes widened, just a fraction.
"Your hair!" Naruto yelled, pointing. "It's… it's…!"
"Pink," I supplied. "Astute observation, detective."
"It's really pink!" He grinned. "It looks like… like candy! Or a cool explosion!"
"I was going for 'toxic hazard,'" I said.
Sasuke studied me for a second, gaze sweeping over the new color.
"You'll be easier to spot in the foliage," he criticized.
"Or," I countered, "enemies will pause for two seconds wondering why there's a neon sign in the bushes, and you can set them on fire."
"Hn," he said. But the corner of his mouth twitched up. "Acceptable."
"You guys ready?" I asked, adjusting my pouch. "I brought extra bandages, ink, and enough soldier pills to keep a horse awake for a week."
"I brought lunch!" Naruto announced, patting his backpack.
"Naruto," I said gently. "We're going into a survival exam. We're supposed to hunt for food."
"Yeah, but what if the food tastes bad?"
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it.
"Valid point," I admitted.
A commotion near the gate drew our attention.
Anko was standing on a rock, grinning down at the gathering crowd of genin. She held a stack of papers in one hand and a kunai in the other.
"Alright, maggots!" she shouted. "Welcome to the stage where I trim the herd!"
She waved the papers.
"Before you go in, you gotta sign these!"
"What are they?" someone called out.
"Consent forms!" Anko chirped. "Because people are gonna die in there, and I don't want the paperwork if it's my fault!"
A ripple of unease went through the crowd.
I took the form she passed out. It was exactly what I thought it was.
…death by giant insects… death by toxic plants… death by enemy combatants…
"Fun," I muttered, signing my name with a flourish.
Naruto signed his without reading it. Sasuke signed his with a scowl.
"Now," Anko said, jumping down. She handed the forms to a chunin and grinned. "I'll explain the rules once. You get a scroll. Heaven or Earth. You need both to pass. You have five days. No quitting. No rules except 'get to the tower in the middle.'"
She jabbed a thumb at the dark treeline behind her.
"Inside… it's a lawless zone. Theft, betrayal, murder? All fair game."
Naruto gulped.
"Sounds like a party," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
Anko's eyes snapped to me. She blinked, taking in the pink hair, the glasses, the ink stains on my hands.
"Ooh," she said, stepping closer. "New look? Very… visible."
"Distraction tactic," I said.
She laughed—a sharp, barking sound.
"I like you," she said. "Try not to get eaten in the first hour."
I wasn't sure if that was encouragement or betting odds.
She turned her attention to Naruto, who was making a face at the looming forest.
"Something wrong, kid?" she asked, voice dropping to a purr. "Scared?"
"No way!" Naruto shouted. "I'm not scared of some stupid trees!"
Anko smiled.
In a blur of motion, she whipped a kunai past Naruto's cheek. It sliced the skin—a thin red line appearing instantly.
Before he could even flinch, she was behind him, arm draped over his neck like a lover, whispering in his ear.
"Tough guys are usually the first to go," she murmured. "Their blood tastes the best."
She licked the blood off the cheek she'd just cut.
Naruto froze, terrifyingly still.
My stomach did a flip. Sugar and knives.
A Grass-nin returned the kunai with her long tongue—my brain whispered all kinds of quiet alarms—and the tension ratcheted up to suffocating.
"Okay!" Anko announced, hopping back to the front as if she hadn't just casually traumatized a twelve-year-old. "Exchange your forms for scrolls at the booth! Gate opens in ten minutes!"
We got in line.
"She's… intense," Naruto squeaked, touching his cheek.
"She's terrifying," I agreed. "I want to be her when I grow up."
Sasuke gave me a look of genuine concern. "Don't."
We got our scroll—Heaven—and moved to Gate 12.
"Okay," I said, tightening my gloves. "Formation?"
"I take point," Naruto said.
"I check for traps," Sasuke countered.
"I keep us from walking off cliffs and track enemy chakra," I said. "So… diamond formation? With me in the back screaming warnings?"
"Works for me," Naruto said.
The boys drifted closer to the gate, tense and focused. I should have been doing the same, but out of the corner of my eye, something pinged my social radar.
Hinata Hyūga stood a little ways off from the rest of her team near Gate 13, half-shadowed by the post. Clipboard-straight posture, eyes glued to her consent form like it might sprout extra instructions. Everyone else was clustered in noisy trios. She was a quiet island.
Yeah, no. Not on my watch.
"I'll be right back," I told Naruto and Sasuke.
Naruto blinked. "Huh?"
"Extremely dangerous mission," I said. "Socializing."
I peeled off before he could argue.
Up close, Hinata flinched when she realized I was heading her way, then did that tiny double-dip bow thing she did when overwhelmed.
"H-Hyuuga Hinata," she murmured, like I didn't already know. "G-good morning."
"Sylvie," I said. "Pink hair, terrible decision-maker. Mind if I stand here?"
She shook her head, fingers worrying the edge of her form. Her gaze kept flicking over my shoulder. Every time Naruto laughed at something, she tensed like she'd been poked with a senbon.
I followed her line of sight. Naruto. Of course.
The cut on his cheek was still visible—thin, red, stupidly heroic. Hinata's eyes kept snagging on it. Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket on autopilot.
"You looking at the forest," I asked quietly, "or at the idiot who tried to pick a fight with it?"
Her face went scarlet. "I—I just… N-Naruto-kun… his f-face…"
She fumbled something out of her pocket: a small, familiar jar. Medical ointment. The good kind. Hyūga household pharmaceutical-grade "we can afford this" ointment.
"I thought… maybe… i-if he had this… it would… um…"
"Not get infected?" I supplied. "Solid plan."
She nodded, eyes dropping to the dirt. Her thumb ran frantic circles over the lid.
"Do you want to give it to him?" I asked.
Hinata made a noise that might have been words in another, less cursed universe. "I—I couldn't… h-he's about to g-go in, and I don't want to b-bother him, and if I say something stupid—"
"Okay," I said. "Plan B: you give it to me, I give it to him, and I explicitly tell him it's from you. Full credit. No stealth charity."
Her head snapped up. "Y-you would…?"
"It's either that or I let him march into Murder Nature Preserve leaking blood everywhere," I said. "My healer instincts are offended."
She hesitated for one more heartbeat, then thrust the jar at me so fast you'd think it was explosive-tagged. "P-please! If… if that's okay!"
"Signed, sealed, delivered," I said, tucking it into my pouch. "You did good, Hinata."
She went back to worrying her jacket hem, shoulders hunched, but a tiny, shaky smile was starting to pry its way onto her face.
Mission: mildly successful.
I jogged back to Gate 12.
"Where'd you go?" Naruto demanded immediately. "They're about to open the gate!"
"Logistics," I said, already unscrewing the ointment. "Hold still."
He yelped as I thumbed it onto his cheek. "C-cold! What is that?"
"Medicine," I said. "Courtesy of Hinata."
He froze. "Hinata? As in—"
I jerked my chin toward Gate 13, where she was now staring very hard at the posted rules like they were life-or-death kanji.
Naruto's face lit up like someone had lit a sparkler inside his skull. He cupped his hands around his mouth.
"YO~ THANKS HINATA-CHAN!!"
Half the training ground turned to look. Hinata almost dropped her form. She bowed so fast I worried about whiplash, fingers knotting in the front of her coat.
"Smooth," I muttered.
If the universe insisted on writing slow-burn crushes, I could at least mess with the pacing.
The gatekeeper chunin checked his watch, the universal body language for "I am not paid enough to care about adolescent drama."
"Ready?" he called.
I touched the fresh pink ends of my hair. It was stupid how soft it felt—how much of my brain had latched onto it as proof I got to be "girl" now. Dyed, styled, mine.
The forest beyond the fence did not care about any of that.
If it came down to it, I could cut it. Trade pretty for practical, softness for survival. Kunoichi over fragile femininity.
I felt the ink pots in my pouch, the tags hidden in my sleeves, the faint tug of my Squad Marks on my teammates.
I felt fear, yeah. A lot of it. But also… ready enough.
"Unlock," the chunin said.
The lock clicked. The gate creaked open. Naruto's hand was still mid-wave when the chains rattled.
"Second Exam, start!"
We ran into the dark.