The sharp sound of something cracking echoed through the hospital corridor.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Stop moving."
"I CAN FEEL THE POWER OF YOUTH LEAVING MY BODY!"
"You are literally making it worse."
Reiji tightened his grip on the man's forearm before the idiot could yank it away again. The swollen limb rested across a low examination table, already discolored around the elbow and twisted at an angle arms were not supposed to bend toward. Even through the layers of bruising, Reiji could feel the instability beneath the skin every time the man tensed.
And he kept tensing constantly.
Tears streamed dramatically down the man face while he pointed accusingly at the ceiling with his good arm. "Such agony! Such passion! This burning pain is proof that my youthful flames still blaze brightly!"
Reiji stared at him flatly.
"You fell out of a tree."
"A TREE CANNOT DEFEAT THE POWER OF YOUTH!"
"You hit every branch on the way down."
Duy froze.
"…The tree fought dishonorably."
Reiji felt his eyelid twitch slightly before exhaling through his nose. The arm had already swollen badly, which meant waiting any longer would only make resetting the fracture harder. He shifted his footing slightly against the wooden floor, anchoring himself more firmly before placing one hand above the break and the other around the man wrist.
Immediately, Duy's eyes widened.
"…Young Reiji," he said carefully, sweat suddenly forming on his forehead, "what exactly are you—"
The crack this time was louder.
Duy's scream nearly shook the windows.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Several voices outside the room abruptly stopped.
Reiji ignored them completely, keeping the arm steady while the man convulsed dramatically on the table. The bone slid back roughly into alignment beneath his hands, the resistance disappearing all at once with a sickening shift that he felt more than heard. He kept the limb immobilized for several seconds afterward, watching carefully for instability the same way Tsukiko had taught him.
The alignment looked better now.
"There," Reiji muttered. "You'll live."
Duy remained completely motionless for three long seconds before suddenly bursting into tears again.
"THE FIRE OF YOUTH HAS BEEN REIGNITED!"
"You were crying two seconds ago."
"THESE WERE MANLY TEARS OF PASSION!"
Reiji stepped back slowly, rubbing at his ear after the screaming finally stopped. He was beginning to understand why some of the hospital staff mysteriously vanished whenever that guy entered the building.
"Young Reiji!"
Reiji blinked, pulled from his thoughts as the man suddenly grabbed his shoulder with his good arm.
"You possess extraordinary talent! Your bone-setting technique carries the vigor of youth itself!"
"…Please stop talking."
"But your eyes burn with determination!"
"My eyes are burning because you screamed directly into my face."
Duy gasped as if deeply moved by this.
"How humble!"
The door slid open before Reiji could answer, revealing Tsukiko carrying a stack of files against her chest. Her gaze moved from the scattered medical supplies to Duy still half-curled on the examination table dramatically clutching his arm, then finally toward Reiji standing beside him with the exhausted expression of someone reconsidering every life choice that had brought him here.
A smile immediately spread across her face.
"It always seems lively whenever you're around, Might-san," she said warmly as she set the files down on a nearby counter. "Another training injury?"
Duy straightened almost instantly.
The transformation was so abrupt Reiji nearly admired it.
The man who had been screaming like he was being tortured only moments earlier suddenly sat properly, attempting—badly—to regain some dignity. Even the tears vanished with suspicious speed.
"A-ah, Tsukiko-san!" he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "It was merely a minor setback on the glorious path of youth!"
"You fell out of a tree," Reiji repeated.
Duy coughed loudly.
"The tree launched a surprise attack."
Reiji stared at him for several long seconds before speaking again. "This is the fourth time you come here this month."
"True dedication requires sacrifice!"
"You are losing against vegetation at an alarming rate."
Tsukiko covered her mouth lightly, failing to completely hide her amusement as she stepped closer to the table. Her eyes moved briefly over the arm before nodding in satisfaction.
"It seems Reiji already prepared things well for me," she said casually. "The alignment is much cleaner this time."
Reiji tried not to look too satisfied hearing that.
"Then, if you'll excuse me."
Soft green chakra bloomed around Tsukiko's hands, illuminating the room in a gentle glow as she placed them carefully over the swollen arm. The atmosphere shifted almost immediately. The chaotic energy Duy brought with him seemed to settle slightly beneath the steady hum of medical chakra filling the room. Reiji watched automatically, eyes narrowing faintly as he studied the flow instinctively.
Duy visibly relaxed as the pain dulled, though occasional twitches still crossed his face whenever Tsukiko pressed against a particularly damaged section of muscle.
"Hm," she murmured after a moment. "You should be fine by the end of the week as long as you avoid training for a few days."
Duy gasped in horror.
"A week without training?!"
"A week," Tsukiko repeated pleasantly.
"…Three days?"
"One week."
"…Can I at least do handstands?"
"No."
The defeated expression on Duy's face looked genuinely tragic.
Reiji snorted quietly under his breath while organizing the scattered bandages on the table beside him. He noticed Tsukiko hide another smile from the corner of his eye.
Eventually, Duy's arm was fully wrapped and stabilized properly. The man flexed his fingers experimentally before nodding enthusiastically to himself.
"The flames of youth burn once more!"
"Unfortunately." Reiji muttered.
Duy ignored the comment entirely before suddenly turning toward both of them with surprising sincerity.
"Thank you, Tsukiko-san. And you as well, Young Reiji!" he declared loudly, giving them both an exaggerated thumbs up. "Your support shall fuel my eternal springtime of effort!"
"You say that every time," Reiji said.
"And every time I mean it with even greater passion!"
That somehow sounded believable coming from him.
Duy gave one final energetic bow before marching toward the door with enough enthusiasm to make Reiji wonder if the healing had somehow damaged his brain instead repaired it.
"The path of youth never ends!" he proclaimed dramatically while leaving the room. "I shall return stronger than ever!"
The door slammed shut behind the man a second later.
Silence finally returned to the treatment room.
Reiji exhaled slowly.
"…I'm starting to understand why the others hide when they hear him coming."
Tsukiko watched the closed door for another second before sending Reiji a sidelong glance.
"Don't be so hard on him," she said lightly. "He's one of the rare patients willing to let such an unruly child treat him in the first place."
Reiji scoffed immediately while gathering the discarded wrappings from the table.
"It's not like he has much of a choice," he muttered. "The others disappear the moment they hear him screaming down the corridor." He tossed a bloodied cloth into a nearby container before shaking his head slightly. "Seriously… why is he so stubborn about becoming a shinobi despite being that untalented?"
The question came out more genuinely curious than mocking.
Tsukiko's expression softened slightly as she began organizing the medical tools scattered across the counter.
"Personally," she said after a moment, "I think it's beautiful."
Reiji stared at her strangely.
Seeing the look on his face, Tsukiko laughed quietly beneath her breath before continuing.
"Most people spend their lives choosing the easy path," she said, her voice calmer now. "Or simply following the one already laid out in front of them. They're afraid to leap into the unknown because they fear failing… or worse, what other people might think of them afterward."
Reiji raised an eyebrow slowly.
"…Are you talking about him," he asked dryly, "or yourself here?"
Tsukiko froze.
Then immediately reached over and pinched his ear sharply.
"Hey—!"
"That was rude, Reiji-kun."
He grimaced as she twisted slightly harder.
"I'm injured," he complained.
"You were perfectly healthy five seconds ago."
"That was before this brutal assault."
Tsukiko finally released him with a faint snort of amusement while Reiji rubbed at his ear irritably under her entirely unapologetic gaze.
"You really have become more talkative lately," she observed casually.
Reiji stilled for half a second.
Then he looked away first, pretending sudden interest in reorganizing the medicine shelf beside him.
"…Maybe you just talk too much," he muttered.
Tsukiko smiled knowingly but let the subject drop.
"Still," Tsukiko said after a moment, leaning lightly against the counter while organizing the remaining supplies, "I honestly didn't expect you to be the type to enjoy helping people, Reiji-kun."
Reiji glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to cleaning the instruments laid out beside him. The metal tools reflected the pale hospital lights in dull flashes as he wiped them carefully one by one.
"It's been almost a month already since you started working here," she continued. "And you were surprisingly knowledgeable about basic treatment from the beginning."
"That's because you keep assigning me here," Reiji replied dryly, rolling his eyes slightly before setting another sterilized instrument aside. "And it's because of my father."
The answer came naturally.
"He drilled the importance of first aid into my head since I was little," he explained. "Even if you're not a medic-nin, you should at least know how to stabilize yourself or your teammates long enough to survive if the injury isn't immediately fatal."
Tsukiko's expression softened faintly at that.
"Your father taught you a lot, huh?"
Reiji didn't hesitate.
"He taught me everything."
The room quieted slightly after that.
Outside, footsteps continued moving through the corridor while distant voices echoed faintly from deeper inside the hospital, but inside the treatment room itself the atmosphere settled into something calmer. Tsukiko watched him silently for a brief moment, a small unreadable smile lingering on her lips before she finally spoke again.
"I'm a little sad this assignment is already ending," she admitted lightly. "I enjoyed having such a cute little assistant around." Her smile widened teasingly. "So? What do you think? Want to become my disciple? I could turn you into a great medic-nin."
Reiji paused mid-motion.
"That depends," he said cautiously. "How long would it take to actually master it?"
Tsukiko blinked before straightening slightly, immediately more interested.
"Well… to properly learn the foundations?" she mused. "One or two years of intensive study at minimum." Her eyes sharpened with curiosity. "Why? Are you interested?"
Reiji sighed quietly.
"That's the problem," he admitted. "I really do want to learn medical ninjutsu, but I can't afford to neglect my other training." He leaned back slightly against the counter, folding his arms loosely. "Can't I just learn from you occasionally while continuing my shinobi career normally?"
Tsukiko snorted softly.
"Medical ninjutsu isn't something you learn casually between missions, young man." She pointed a finger toward him accusingly. "You can't have everything. If you want something seriously, you have to make concessions somewhere."
Reiji tilted his head slightly.
"Your father didn't seem to make many concessions."
Tsukiko froze just enough for him to notice.
"From what I've read," Reiji continued, "and from what people say, he was famous both for his medical ability and his combat strength."
A strange expression crossed her face briefly at the mention of her father. Nostalgia, maybe. Embarrassment too.
"Well…" she said slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Comparing yourself to my father is a little unfair to the rest of humanity."
Reiji stared at her curiously.
"Was he really that special?"
Tsukiko laughed softly beneath her breath.
"He was more normal than you'd think," she admitted. "Honestly, I'm probably not the best person to ask. To me he was my father before anything else." She paused, smiling faintly to herself. "And kind of a pushover."
Reiji blinked.
"…A pushover?"
"Never mind."
She waved the subject away before he could press further, though the fondness in her expression remained visible for another second before fading.
"But," she added, "if you're still serious about learning later on—and if you somehow find the time—you can come to me. I'd be happy to teach you."
Then her expression shifted slightly, becoming noticeably more mischievous.
"Or…" she continued innocently, "maybe you'd prefer learning from my daughter instead?"
Reiji froze immediately.
Tsukiko's smile widened.
Reiji very deliberately looked somewhere else.
The woman actually giggled seeing the reaction, which only made him more irritated.
"Anyway," she continued cheerfully, entirely too pleased with herself now, "what do you say? Want to have dinner with us tonight? We can celebrate the end of your assignment and the start of your genin career."
"Huh…" Reiji scratched lightly at his cheek before shaking his head. "No, sorry. I already planned something with my father."
"There'll be Tsunade tonight too."
Reiji immediately deadpanned.
Tsukiko sighed dramatically.
"Oh, come on. You always avoid her."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
Reiji clicked his tongue quietly while looking away again.
"It's been months now," Tsukiko continued more softly this time. "I think it would do good for Kushina to see you."
"Well…" Reiji shrugged slightly. "She didn't come see me either."
"That girl is stubborn." Tsukiko sighed. "Ever since I told her you started working here, she freezes every time I mention it and changes the subject."
Reiji scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Well… I'll see her tomorrow at school anyway." He shrugged again. "I was busy with my assignments and training with my father, so it's not like I had time to meet anyone lately." A brief pause. "It's not like I was specifically avoiding her. I barely saw anybody during these months."
Tsukiko studied him quietly for a second before asking:
"And that really doesn't bother you?"
Reiji blinked.
"…No?" he answered slowly, sounding genuinely confused by the question itself.
Tsukiko stared at him for a few seconds like she was trying to decide whether he genuinely didn't understand the problem or was simply pretending not to.
Unfortunately, she eventually concluded it was probably genuine.
A small sigh escaped her.
"You know," she said while cleaning the remaining instruments on the tray beside her, "someday you're going to realize life becomes very miserable if the only people around you are your teammates and your enemies."
Reiji raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I have my father."
"That's not the same thing and you know it."
Reiji leaned lightly against the counter, folding his arms loosely across his chest while watching her work. Outside the room, footsteps echoed faintly through the corridor before fading again into the distant noise of the hospital.
"I still don't really see the issue," he admitted after a moment. "Most people are troublesome."
Tsukiko snorted softly.
"Yes, well, shinobi who isolate themselves completely usually end up either dead or insane." She paused briefly. "Sometimes both."
"…Comforting."
"I'm serious, Reiji-kun." Her tone softened slightly. "At some point you'll need people around you. "
Reiji looked deeply unconvinced by the entire concept.
"People are unreliable most of the time."
"That," Tsukiko immediately pointed a roll of bandages at him accusingly, "is exactly the kind of thing that worries me."
Reiji clicked his tongue quietly.
"I trust my father."
"And if someday your father isn't there?"
The answer came instantly.
"He will be."
Tsukiko stilled slightly at the certainty in his voice.
For a few seconds she simply watched him quietly before shaking her head with a faint sigh.
"Even the Hokage has friends, you know," she said at last. "Strong people don't survive alone nearly as often as they pretend they do."
Reiji looked genuinely skeptical enough that she almost laughed again.
"The point," she continued before he could say something ridiculous, "is that relying on people isn't weakness." Her gaze softened slightly. "And having people care about you isn't something you should avoid either."
Reiji looked away for a moment, scratching lightly at his cheek.
"…I feel like everyone suddenly became very concerned about my social life lately."
"That should probably tell you something."
"I choose to ignore that information."
Tsukiko sighed dramatically.
"You really are still a child sometimes."
"I feel like that was insulting again."
"It was affectionate."
"That somehow makes it worse."
The room fell quiet again afterward, filled only by the soft sounds of Tsukiko organizing the last of the supplies while sunlight continued creeping slowly across the wooden floor. Reiji remained leaning against the counter for a few moments longer, watching her movements absently. The hospital had become strangely familiar during these past weeks—the smells, the noise, the constant movement of people through the corridors. At some point, without really noticing when, the assignments had stopped feeling like punishment.
"…Anyway," Reiji said at last, pushing himself away from the counter, "thanks for everything."
Tsukiko looked up in mild surprise.
"Because of you," he continued with a small shrug, "these last assignments weren't completely unbearable." A brief pause. "It was… interesting."
The admission clearly amused her far more than it should have.
Tsukiko smiled warmly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear before answering.
"It was my pleasure, Reiji-kun."
There was something genuinely fond in her expression now, enough that Reiji instinctively looked slightly away before she could notice his discomfort.
"I hope you'll find a good team tomorrow," she continued more softly. "You probably don't realize it yet, but the people beside you now will shape the person you become later."
Reiji froze slightly at that, his fingers flexed once lightly at his side before stilling again.
…Yeah.
"We'll see," he answered finally.
Tsukiko studied him for a brief second longer like she sensed there was more behind the answer than he allowed himself to show, but in the end she simply smiled again and let the matter rest.
***
It was already late by the time Reiji returned home.
The streets outside had long since quieted, the noise of the village reduced to distant footsteps and the occasional murmur drifting through the night air. Cool wind brushed lightly against his face as he stepped through the gate, fatigue settling deeper into his body now that the constant movement of the day had finally stopped. His shoulders felt heavy, his muscles carrying the dull exhaustion of accumulated weeks rather than a single difficult day.
And yet—
Light still spilled from the kitchen windows.
Reiji felt something loosen faintly in his chest at the sight.
A small smile tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth before he slid the door open and stepped inside.
"I'm home, father."
"Mm."
Soichiro didn't immediately look up from the scroll resting open in front of him. The kitchen was quiet aside from the soft crackling of the lamp near the table and the faint sound of paper shifting beneath his father's hand. Steam still rose lightly from the food left waiting for him.
"Come eat."
Reiji removed his sandals before sitting down across from him, settling onto the tatami with practiced familiarity. The warmth from the meal drifted upward immediately, carrying the smell of grilled fish, rice, and vegetables through the small room. For a while, neither of them spoke.
It wasn't uncomfortable.
Silence rarely was between them.
Reiji ate steadily, the exhaustion in his body becoming more apparent now that he had finally stopped moving. Across from him, Soichiro continued reading, though Reiji noticed long ago that his father had barely turned a page since he entered.
Then—
"It was your last day before the examination tomorrow, correct?"
"Yeah," Reiji answered between bites.
"Don't talk while eating."
Reiji rolled his eyes slightly but obeyed anyway, swallowing before continuing his meal. A few more seconds passed before Soichiro spoke again.
"Are you confident?"
Reiji blinked faintly, chopsticks pausing halfway toward his mouth before his gaze lifted toward his father.
"…What do you mean?"
Soichiro finally looked up from the scroll then, dark eyes steady beneath the dim kitchen light.
"The genin examination," he clarified calmly. "Are you confident you'll pass?"
Reiji frowned immediately.
"What are you talking about?" Reiji asked, a faint frown forming as he looked up from his meal. "You know those tests are basically formalities. They already told me I don't even need to pass them—I've already been assigned to a team." A slight scoff escaped him as he leaned back a fraction, resting one elbow loosely against the table. "And even if I did have to take them seriously, they're a joke. So why are you asking?"
For a brief moment, Soichiro simply watched him quietly.
Then—
"I don't know," he said evenly. "You barely trained here these past six months. I almost forgot what you were capable of."
Reiji froze.
The chopsticks in his hand stalled completely as something tight coiled instinctively in his chest.
"Well…" he began carefully, "the assignments took a lot of ti—"
"Reiji."
His mouth snapped shut immediately.
Soichiro slowly closed the scroll in front of him before setting it aside. The soft thud against the wooden table sounded strangely loud in the quiet kitchen.
"I'm not an idiot," he said calmly. "And I don't appreciate being lied to." A brief pause followed before his expression softened slightly at the edges. "But I understand that sometimes circumstances demand silence."
"Father…"
Soichiro raised a hand gently, stopping him before he could continue.
"Don't."
The single word settled heavily between them.
Reiji watched as his father pushed himself upright, the movement slower than it once would have been. Even now, after all these years, Reiji still noticed the slight imbalance in his posture whenever he stood too quickly—the lingering damage that never fully disappeared no matter how much Soichiro ignored it.
The cane resting beside the table tapped softly against the wooden floor as he moved toward the doorway.
"I just hope you know what you're doing, son," he said quietly without turning around. "Sometimes the choices we make too quickly become regrets we carry for the rest of our lives."
He paused briefly near the door.
Then, softer:
"Good night, Reiji."
The door slid shut behind him with a muted sound.
Silence returned immediately afterward.
Reiji remained seated motionless for several long seconds, staring down at the untouched remains of his meal while the kitchen lamp flickered faintly overhead. Slowly, he exhaled through his nose before letting himself fall backward onto the tatami from his kneeling position, one arm coming up to rest over his eyes.
The warmth of the light felt strangely distant now.
His chest tightened painfully.
Not because his father knew.
He had probably known for months.
No—
What hurt was that despite everything, Soichiro had still chosen to trust him enough not to force the truth out of him.
Reiji swallowed slowly.
"…I'm sorry," he whispered into the empty room.
***
As Reiji made his way through the village streets toward the academy, his thoughts drifted more than he expected them to.
It had been six months since he had last walked that path regularly. Six months since his removal from the academy, and in all that time he had barely seen any of his former classmates. Konoha had always felt strangely contradictory to him—small enough that familiar faces seemed to exist everywhere you turned, yet large enough that two people could disappear from each other's lives entirely simply by no longer walking the same streets.
And Reiji had stopped walking those streets a long time ago.
And for most of those six months, Reiji had been somewhere else entirely.
Only during the last month had he slowly begun resurfacing again.
His footsteps remained steady against the stone path while his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
When he thought back on it now, he realized he had only really begun interacting more with his classmates after Kushina arrived. Even then, it had lasted what—weeks? Maybe a little longer before everything fell apart and he was removed from the academy entirely.
That hardly qualified as friendship.
So honestly, he doubted much would be different now.
It doesn't matter, Reiji thought calmly.
His fingers spun the forehead protector loosely by its cloth ties as he walked, the metal plate occasionally catching the morning sunlight in brief flashes. The engraved leaf symbol reflected faintly across his eyes before disappearing again with each turn.
All that matters is my team and my jōnin instructor.
The rest would either come naturally…
Or not at all.
Reiji wasn't entirely sure he cared either way.
His grip shifted slightly on the protector as his gaze lowered toward it again. For years, becoming a shinobi had existed in his mind as something distant but absolute—a goal he had pursued almost obsessively since childhood. He remembered staring at older genin when he was younger, imagining the day he would finally wear his own forehead protector.
And now he had one.
Yet strangely…
Nothing really felt different.
The metal felt cool against his fingers as he stared at the engraved symbol for another second before finally exhaling quietly through his nose. With one smooth motion, he lifted the protector and tied it securely around his forehead, tightening the knot behind his head until the pressure settled into place against his skin.
The academy building had already come into view ahead of him.
Reiji's eyes lingered on it silently as the wind stirred lightly through his dark hair beneath the protector.
Reiji stopped a few steps from the Academy entrance, his gaze resting on the wide doorway as he took in the absence of movement. The yard beyond was empty—no students lingering outside. The stillness contrasted sharply with the streets he had just crossed.
Classes were still in session.
So either someone was supposed to meet him—and was late—
—or he was expected to find his own way inside.
Reiji waited anyway.
A few minutes passed.
He scratched lightly at the side of his head, more out of habit than confusion.
No one's coming.
Decision made.
He stepped forward and crossed the threshold, the sound of his sandals shifting from dirt to wood as he entered the building.
"Should I just go to my old classroom?" he muttered under his breath.
It made the most sense. If teams were being announced, they would gather there first.
He shrugged once and moved down the hallway without slowing.The layout hadn't changed. His body remembered the path even without conscious thought.
Soon, he stood in front of the classroom door.
Voices came through the wood—scattered conversation, uneven, louder than it should have been for a lesson. No instructor speaking over them.
So they're waiting.
Reiji didn't pause.
His hand closed around the handle, and he pushed the door open immediately.
The moment Reiji slid the classroom door open, the noise inside died almost instantly.
Conversations cut off mid-sentence. Chairs creaked faintly as heads turned toward him in near perfect unison, surprise spreading across faces he hadn't seen in months. For a brief second, the entire room simply stared.
Reiji stared back.
Some of them looked taller now. Sharper around the face. Less like children than they had before. Others looked exactly the same. Nervous energy still hung around the room though—students waiting for team assignments, trying to hide excitement behind forced composure.
Familiar.
Strangely distant too.
Reiji raised one hand lazily.
"Don't mind me," he said casually as he stepped inside. "I'm just passing through. Continue."
Nobody continued.
Reiji ignored the silence entirely and walked down the aisle toward the front row with unhurried steps, feeling dozens of eyes following him the entire way. The new forehead protector tied around his head caught attention immediately—he noticed the subtle shifts in expression the moment people registered it.
He dropped into his old seat without another word, leaned forward onto the desk, then rested his cheek lazily against one arm as if nothing about this situation was unusual.
The silence lasted barely another second.
Then the classroom exploded.
"What the hell—that's Reiji, right?"
"I thought he got expelled!"
"He did!"
"Then why does he have a forehead protector?"
"Did he already pass the exam?"
"He wasn't even here yesterday!"
"You think he stole it?"
"Don't be stupid."
The chatter swelled louder almost immediately, voices overlapping from every direction while students twisted around in their seats trying to get a better look at him. Reiji rolled one eye lazily toward the ceiling.
'God… how did I tolerate these idiots for years?'
Before he could sink further into the desk, someone abruptly dropped into the seat beside him.
"Dude," Arata whispered, leaning closer. "Why are you here?"
Reiji turned his head slightly, one eyebrow lifting.
"Why?" he drawled lazily. "You're not happy to see your best friend make a triumphant return? I'm wounded."
Arata stared at him for a second before snorting quietly.
"Happy?" he muttered. "You were a fucking menace." He glanced around nervously before lowering his voice slightly further. "Some people literally celebrated when you got kicked out."
Reiji finally pushed himself upright a little, rotating lazily in his chair until he faced Arata directly. A small smile spread slowly across his face.
"Really?" he asked pleasantly. "Tell me who."
Arata visibly paled.
"…What?"
"Are you one of them?"
"N-No?" Arata chuckled nervously. "Me? Of course not. I was devastated. Truly tragic injustice."
"Right?" Reiji nodded solemnly. "All because a crybaby couldn't handle a few broken bones and ran back to cry to daddy."
The classroom quieted almost instantly at that.
Reiji noticed the shift before he even followed Arata's suddenly strained expression toward the back of the room.
Enji was staring at him.
Not furious this time.
Just uncomfortable. Irritated.
"I didn't ask for you to be expelled," Enji said after a moment.
Reiji shrugged lightly.
"And I didn't ask you to be a sore loser," he replied. "But here we are."
Enji leaned forward slightly in his seat, irritation rising visibly across his face.
"You just got back and you're already looking for trouble?"
Another voice interrupted before Reiji could answer.
"You really didn't change."
Reiji turned his head.
Mikoto was already staring at him from across the room, dark eyes narrowed in clear irritation. He noticed immediately that she looked older too—not physically taller necessarily, but calmer somehow.
He smiled faintly.
"Why?" he asked. "I thought we were getting closer before."
Her expression hardened instantly.
"Funny," she replied flatly. "You disappeared without saying anything."
Reiji blinked once before shrugging.
"You didn't either."
That visibly caught her off guard for a fraction of a second.
"That's not the same," she snapped quickly. "You got expelled because you did something stupid. You're the one who should've said something."
Reiji tilted his head slightly.
"Are we having a lovers' argument right now?" he asked curiously.
Mikoto's face immediately darkened.
But before she could answer, movement at the edge of his vision pulled his attention sideways.
Red.
Reiji blinked.
Kushina sat beside the window several rows away, though for a moment he barely recognized her. Her hair was shorter now, cut high enough that at first glance she almost looked like a boy from behind. The roundness that had once softened her features had faded too over the past months, leaving her face narrower, sharper.
She noticed him looking.
Their eyes met briefly.
Her eyebrows furrowed faintly before she immediately turned away again, staring back out the window as if he wasn't there at all.
Reiji blinked once more.
Then slowly turned back toward Mikoto just in time to realize she had apparently been speaking.
"…Sorry," he said honestly. "Didn't catch that. What were you saying?"
Mikoto stared at him for several long seconds, visibly realizing halfway through that he genuinely hadn't been listening to her.
"…Unbelievable," she muttered.
Reiji blinked.
"What?"
"You disappear for months, walk back in here like nothing happened, insult half the classroom, then ignore me mid-conversation."
Reiji considered that briefly.
"When you say it like that, it sounds rude."
"It WAS rude."
"That seems subjective."
Mikoto looked one second away from throwing something at him.
Arata slowly leaned backward in his seat.
"I don't know why I sat here," he muttered quietly. "This was a mistake."
Reiji slid an arm loosely around Arata's shoulders before the boy could retreat further away from him, leaning against him with enough familiarity to make Arata immediately tense.
"Nah, you're good," Reiji said lazily. "Curiosity is normal."
Arata looked deeply unconvinced.
"…Right."
"So," he continued cautiously, glancing toward the forehead protector tied around Reiji's head again, "why are you actually here?"
Reiji tilted his head slightly.
"Didn't he tell you?" he asked, lifting his chin vaguely toward Enji near the back of the classroom. "The deal was simple. If my assignments were completed and my performance was considered satisfactory, I'd be allowed back."
"No, we heard that part," Arata replied quickly. "But why weren't you at the exam yesterday? Everyone thought you just didn't come back at all."
"Ah." Reiji waved one hand dismissively. "That's because I'm too amazing to need it."
Arata stared at him flatly.
"…You cannot be serious."
"I'm always serious."
Arata opened his mouth to answer—
"That's bullshit."
The voice cut sharply through the classroom noise.
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
Reiji turned his head toward the source alongside everyone else, mildly curious more than anything else. Several rows behind him, a boy with short brown hair was glaring at him openly, anger visible across his face despite the way his shoulders remained stiff with tension.
Reiji blinked once in surprise.
The boy stood abruptly from his seat.
"Why didn't you have to take the test?" he demanded. "You disappeared for six months while the rest of us were training for actual team placements." His fists tightened at his sides. "And now you just walk back in and get handed a spot under a jōnin instructor like nothing happened?"
The classroom had gone almost completely silent now.
Reiji stared at him for a moment.
Then slowly turned toward Arata.
"…Who the fuck is this guy?"
Arata immediately covered his face with one hand.
The classroom froze.
The boy himself looked genuinely stunned for a full second before his face flushed violently red.
"What do you mean, who am I?!" he snapped. "We've been in the same class for years!"
Reiji studied him carefully for another moment, expression thoughtful.
Then he nodded slowly.
"Ah." His face shifted into something almost apologetic. "Sorry. I don't really remember weaklings very well." A slight pause followed. "But I'll try. What was your name again?"
The boy's eye twitched visibly.
"You—"
"You think you're some kind of hotshot?" he growled. "While we were actually training, you spent six months cleaning garbage and doing chores." He took a step forward slightly, jaw tightening. "I could beat you now."
Reiji smiled.
"Really?"
The boy hesitated for half a second, thrown slightly by the response.
"Yeah—"
"Ibiki. Calm down."
The interruption came before things could escalate further.
The boy froze immediately.
Reiji blinked faintly before his gaze shifted sideways toward Enji, who remained seated with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His expression looked irritated, but controlled.
"It was the Hokage's decision," Enji said flatly. "You don't get an opinion on that." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Or do you think you know better than my father?"
Ibiki's expression shifted immediately.
"…No," he answered quickly. "Of course not."
But the frustration still lingered visibly beneath it.
"It's still unfair," he muttered stubbornly. "He walks in and automatically passes while the rest of us had to prove ourselves." His gaze shifted suddenly across the room. "Even Minato took the exam like everyone else."
Several heads turned toward the blond boy near the windows.
Minato blinked in visible surprise at suddenly being dragged into the argument despite previously minding his own business entirely. After a second, he awkwardly lifted one hand toward Reiji in a small hesitant wave before scratching the back of his head lightly.
"…Not really," he answered after a moment, sounding genuinely uncertain why everyone was looking at him now. "I mean… it's Reiji." He glanced briefly toward him before continuing more honestly. "He's probably stronger than me anyway, so I don't really see the point in getting upset over the exam thing."
Reiji rolled his eyes immediately.
The room went silent again.
Ibiki seemed completely blindsided by the response. The anger drained out of him almost immediately, leaving only awkwardness behind as he realized he had somehow lost the argument entirely.
"…Oh."
The boy sat back down heavily in his chair without another word, face still slightly red while the classroom atmosphere slowly loosened again around him.
Reiji watched him for another second before leaning back lazily in his seat again.
"…I still don't remember him," he muttered quietly toward Arata.
Arata looked at Reiji in pity.
"He's literally been behind you for three years."
Reiji waved is hand " Details."
Before the classroom could fully descend back into noise again, the door slid open sharply.
Conversation died almost immediately.
A man stepped inside, he looked younger than most academy teachers Reiji remembered, perhaps late twenties at most, with short black hair brushed neatly backward and a thin scar cutting across the bridge of his nose.
Reiji studied him automatically.
The man's eyes swept across the classroom before briefly pausing on Reiji.
Then the instructor simply nodded once toward him before continuing toward the front of the room without comment.
Reiji's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Who's that?" he muttered toward Arata.
Arata leaned sideways slightly before whispering back.
"That's Fujimoto-sensei. Takeshi Fujimoto." He glanced toward the front of the room. "He replaced Fūma-sensei after she resigned."
Reiji stilled faintly at that.
'Resigned… huh.'
His gaze lingered silently on the instructor's back while the memory of Fūma Satsuki's empty eyes flashed briefly through his mind. The puppet-like stillness. The unfocused stare.
A convenient explanation.
The village really intended to bury the entire thing completely.
Not surprising.
Still…
Reiji slowly rested his chin against his hand again, watching quietly while Fujimoto placed a stack of papers onto the desk at the front of the room.
The man let the silence settle for several seconds before speaking.
"Well," he began calmly, folding his arms across his chest, "I suppose congratulations are in order."
The atmosphere in the classroom shifted immediately. Nervous excitement returned almost at once as several students straightened instinctively in their seats.
"You are no longer academy students," Fujimoto continued, voice steady enough that he didn't need to raise it for the room to hear him clearly. "As of today, you are shinobi of Konohagakure."
Some students visibly tried not to smile at that.
Others failed completely.
"You've all passed the point where mistakes only embarrass yourselves," the instructor went on. "From now on, your actions reflect directly on your team, your instructor, and the village itself."
Reiji noticed the subtle change in posture around the room almost immediately. The excitement dimmed slightly beneath the weight of the words.
Fujimoto's gaze moved across the classroom carefully before continuing.
"Some of you seem to believe receiving a jōnin instructor is automatic." His tone hardened slightly. "It isn't."
The room quieted further.
"Many academy graduates are sent directly into general genin corps or support divisions instead of receiving personalized instruction. A jōnin's time is valuable, and the village does not waste elite shinobi training those who lack either ability or potential."
Several students shifted uncomfortably at that.
"You were selected because Konoha believes you are worth investing in." Fujimoto paused briefly, eyes narrowing slightly. "Do not make the mistake of believing that means you've already succeeded."
Fujimoto picked up the papers from the desk again.
"In a few minutes," he said calmly, "your assigned jōnin instructors will arrive to collect their teams." A faint pause followed before he added, "I suggest you make a good first impression."
That immediately shattered the tension again as nervous chatter erupted across the classroom almost instantly.
Fujimoto let the noise settle for another minute before tapping the stack of papers lightly against the desk.
The classroom quieted almost immediately.
"Alright," he said calmly. "I'll now announce the teams."
The atmosphere changed at once.
Nervous tension spread visibly through the room as students straightened instinctively in their seats. Some tried to look calm and failed completely. Others immediately began glancing toward classmates they hoped to be paired with.
Reiji stayed leaned back in his chair, one elbow resting against the desk while he watched the room instead of the teacher.
People were more nervous about their teammates than the actual transition into becoming shinobi.
Not surprising though.
A bad team could ruin years of progress.
Fujimoto began reading names steadily.
"Team One…"
A pair of civilian students near the middle of the classroom immediately relaxed in relief as another boy joined them, already beginning to whisper excitedly together before the teacher had even finished speaking.
More names followed after that.
Some teams earned visible disappointment. Others excitement.
One girl nearly looked ready to cry after being separated from her friends while another student pumped his fist quietly beneath his desk after hearing the name he wanted.
Reiji only half listened.
Until—
"Team Four."
His attention sharpened slightly.
"Morino Ibiki. Inuzuka Tsume. Uchiha Arata."
Tsume immediately grinned widely.
"Oh that sounds fun."
Ibiki still looked mildly embarrassed from earlier while Arata stared at the ceiling like he had just accepted a difficult fate.
"…I'm going to die," he muttered quietly.
Reiji snorted softly through his nose.
A few more teams followed afterward, the classroom gradually thinning as students mentally separated themselves into new groups already.
Then—
"Team Seven."
Several heads lifted immediately.
"Uchiha Mikoto. Hyūga Hiashi. Sarutobi Enji."
That drew attention.
Even Reiji raised an eyebrow faintly at the combination.
Across the room, Enji looked surprised at first before quickly trying to hide it. Hiashi remained perfectly composed as always, though Reiji noticed the slight tightening of his shoulders at the mention of his name. Mikoto simply frowned faintly, likely already analyzing the implications herself.
More names followed after that, but Reiji found himself paying closer attention now.
Because his team still hadn't been called.
Reiji's fingers tapped lightly once against the desk before going still again.
Then—
"Team Nine."
The room quieted slightly again.
"Homura Reiji."
Reiji's eyes lifted toward the teacher immediately.
"Hyūga Hizashi."
Across the room, Hizashi's pale eyes shifted slightly toward him without visible reaction.
And then—
"Uzumaki Kushina."
For a brief second, nobody spoke.
Reiji blinked once before slowly turning his head toward the window side of the classroom.
Kushina was already staring at him visibly caught off guard.
Honestly… he probably looked slightly surprised too.
Then slowly, a smirk spread across his face.
He winked at her.
Kushina's expression immediately hardened.
Fujimoto continued reading before the classroom could linger on it too long.
"Team Ten. Namikaze Minato. Nara Kasumi. Senju Nawaki."
"YES!" Nawaki immediately shouted, slamming both hands onto his desk loudly enough to make several people jump.
Kasumi visibly winced.
Minato who looked caught somewhere between amused and exhausted already chuckled ankwardly.
After finishing the final announcements, Fujimoto gathered the remaining papers from the desk and gave the classroom one last measured look, his eyes briefly sweeping across the students one final time before he spoke.
"That will be all." He simply tucked the papers beneath one arm and left the room.
The moment the door slid shut behind him, the atmosphere immediately collapsed back into noise.
Arata groaned beside Reiji before pushing himself out of his chair with visible reluctance.
"Well," he muttered dramatically while glancing toward Tsume and Ibiki already waiting for him nearby, "time to meet my future teammates."
Tsume immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders the moment he got close enough, grinning like she had just acquired a new victim.
"You'll survive probably."
"That 'probably' is deeply concerning."
Reiji watched them go with mild amusement before his attention drifted back toward the room itself. Teams were naturally beginning to separate from the classroom now, small conversations forming as students tried awkwardly to figure each other out.
Minato's team had gathered near the center rows, though honestly it looked less like a newly formed shinobi squad and more like Minato desperately trying to maintain order while Nawaki loudly spoke enough for half the classroom to hear him. Kasumi like always looked bored and didn't speak.
Across the room, Team Seven carried a completely different atmosphere.
Hiashi stood beside the windows with perfect posture while Enji spoke quietly near him, both occasionally glancing toward the classroom entrance as if already expecting something important from whoever their assigned instructor would be. Mikoto meanwhile looked thoughtful more than anything else.
Eventually his gaze shifted toward his own team.
Neither Hizashi nor Kushina had moved.
Hizashi still sat calmly near his brother's group while Kushina meanwhile seemed to have decided the window outside was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, her chin resting lazily against one hand while she stubbornly avoided looking anywhere near him.
Reiji stared at both of them for a second before shrugging lightly to himself.
Not like forcing conversation now would accomplish anything.
Sooner or later their jōnin instructor would arrive and the three of them would have to work together whether they liked it or not. There was no reason to make things more awkward than they already were.
So he waited.
One by one, jōnin began arriving to collect teams. Some were unfamiliar shinobi wearing standard flak jackets and carrying themselves with the relaxed confidence common among experienced veterans. Others looked severe enough that several students visibly straightened the moment they entered the room. Teams slowly disappeared from the classroom afterward in groups of three behind their new instructors.
Arata's team ended up leaving with a broad-shouldered jōnin Reiji didn't recognize.
Not long afterward, the same white-haired shinobi that trained Minato early appeared at the doorway to collect Team Ten.
'Of course,' Reiji thought immediately.
Then Team Seven's instructor arrived.
And Reiji immediately understood why the room went quieter the moment the man entered.
He was tall and pale with long dark hair framing a face that somehow looked both calm and deeply unsettling at the same time. But it was the eyes that caught attention immediately—sharp yellow irises with slit-like pupils that gave the uncomfortable impression of being watched by something pretending very hard to be human.
Reiji stared at him silently for a moment.
That's unpleasant.
He genuinely had never seen someone resemble a snake so much before. Apparently there really was a first time for everything.
Mikoto's team followed the pale jōnin out soon afterward, the atmosphere in the room feeling noticeably lighter once the door finally shut behind them.
And then the classroom became quiet eventually when only three people remained inside.
None of them moved from where they sat.
Reiji rested his cheek against one hand, fingers tapping lightly against the desk in growing irritation.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
Eventually nearly an hour had gone by.
His patience was beginning to die.
'I swear if this idiot forgot we exist—'
"Sorry about that."
The voice came first.
Reiji blinked faintly before lifting his head from the desk.
A tall man stepped into the classroom, one hand rubbing awkwardly behind his neck while the other carried several grocery bags hanging loosely from his fingers.
"My wife asked me to pick up groceries," the man continued sheepishly. "Then apparently she forgot half the list, so I had to go back out again and—"
Reiji froze slightly.
For a brief second, he genuinely wondered if he was hallucinating from boredom.
Even Hizashi looked visibly surprised now, pale eyes widening slightly for the first time since team assignments began. Across the room, Kushina had finally stopped pretending the window was interesting.
Sakumo blinked once after noticing their expressions.
"…What?" he asked lightly. "You look disappointed already."
***
If you'd like to read ahead or support the story go to : patreon.com/TheSoulfrost