Chapter 1.4 [4]

Want to read ahead? Head over to Patréon [eternalyujin], the link is on my profile too.

Note: Everything on there will be public eventually.

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With the winter break steadily approaching and the Academy settling into a routine schedule, I found the days whizzing by. They were a blend of boredom and brief moments of curiosity amidst a hail of biting wind and infrequent snow. I say boredom because nothing of note had happened since discovering Fujino's sabotage. Classes ran as usual, with me zoning out during everything but her classes and sparring.

I leaned back against the bench, releasing a slow, quiet yawn. My eyes tingled and I swallowed another yawn as I looked out of the window. The barest pinkish hues of sunlight stretched over the bleak, grey sky.

Homeroom had come to a close. The room exploded into noise as Iruka closed the sliding door behind him. I could see almost everything and everyone from the back of the layered classroom. A small crowd of eager-eyed girls had formed around Sasuke, with another crowd of jealous boys glaring at him.

I shook my head with a smile. Well over a month now – closer to two – and you'd think the fixation would die down on both sides. Maybe the mysterious allure of him being the last Uchiha is something irresistible to a child's mind.

Not that I'd be one to know.

The rustle of packaging crinkled beside me, followed by a sharp crunch. I turned with a raised eyebrow more amused than anything else.

"Choji?"

The round-faced boy paused mid-bite, pulling the untouched morsel from the depth of his mouth.

"You understand that it's only nine in the morning, right?"

He nodded.

"Did you have breakfast?"

He nodded again.

I scratched my cheek, thinking of a way to word this that wouldn't set him off. For all his gentleness, even insinuating that he was fat would upset Choji for at least an hour.

"I… guess you must be hungry then."

He frowned at me, suspicion in his brown eyes. He clutched the bag of crisps closer to his chest. "What's it to you, Naruto?"

"Relax, bud. I'm not going to steal your food."

He nodded – almost to himself – and popped it back into his mouth. "Good. Do… you want some?"

I stared at the outstretched bag and tilted my head. "...Why not?"

When our history teacher walked in, I was working on dislodging the remains of the spicy-flavoured crisps from my teeth. The classroom plummeted into silence. Mizubayashi wasn't the sort who'd stand for any foolishness on that front – his words, not mine.

He opened a notebook and settled behind the podium, scribbling a question on the blackboard. The class moved on at a snail's pace. Mizubayashi started with a quiz before launching into what I can only describe as a lecture on the establishment of the strange civilian counsel sessions that Lord Third holds each month.

It was interesting… at first anyway. I had always wondered why he did so when the Hidden Leaf's pretty much an autocracy, at least on paper. But then it veered in a direction I didn't care for. For the vast majority of the lesson, I skipped ahead in the textbook and read up on Tobirama Senju who – despite his questionable actions regarding the Uchiha – was arguably the best Hokage this village had ever seen.

I felt a pang of longing alongside a thrum of frustration. Dad would've probably been the best Hokage in the village to date. If nothing else, he was taking steps to solve the decades-long Uchiha dilemma.

Mizubayashi clapped his hands.

"Right, to finish, we'll take a look at something very fundamental to our village's existence in preparation for next week. We've covered it in passing but we're going into detail today. Now, who wants to tell me what the Will of Fire is?"

Sakura's arm shot past her pink hair.

"The Will of Fire is the founding belief of our village. We use our love for our family and friends as motivation to defend ourselves from our enemies. If we lose the Will of Fire, we'll turn to evil and hatred."

"Perfectly summarised, Sakura." Mizubayashi smiled and began to pace about in front of the blackboard. "The Will of Fire is universal – that means the same for everyone – in Konoha. It goes beyond the divide between shinobi and civilians. We all feel love for our family and friends. We all care for neighbours and everyone who helps the Hidden Leaf keep moving, right?"

He nodded at the chorus of yesses.

 "The Will of Fire, as Sakura says, is keeping that love in mind in everything we do. Remember who and what you're training for – and when you go out on missions – who you're fighting for… Jun?"

"But the whole village, sir? I can't imagine the whole village!"

Mizubayashi chuckled. "Neither can I. But you can imagine your family and friends, can't you?"

"...Yeah."

"Keep them in mind. Your friends and family live in the village too. So when you fight for your friends and family, you fight for the village as well. It's something you can take pride in."

Jun stumbled over his words. "I… still don't understand, sir."

"Don't worry. You might not understand it, but you feel it and live it. You came here to be a shinobi, which means the Will of Fire burns within you. If not today, then you'll understand one day."

Someone else raised their hand. "Sir! Do other hidden villages have the Will of Fire too?"

There was a round of laughter that Mizubayashi took part in. He raised a hand to put an end to it with a smile.

"No, Tatsuo. The other hidden villages don't have the Will of Fire. It's why they might be possessed by greed – like the Hidden Cloud, who are famous for stealing bloodlines. But we have the Will of Fire, passed onto us by Hashirama Senju, who put an end to an era of warring clans and barbarity. So long as we keep those we care for close to our hearts, we won't fall to hatred and greed like the other villages."

A few more questions flew across the classroom. Some weren't the smartest while others were thought-provoking. Mizubayashi's answer to Tatsuo left a bad taste in my mouth.

He'd twisted Hashirama Senju's hopes for genuine understanding among people into propaganda. Not just him, but people like Tobirama Senju, Danzo, and even Lord Third as well – which brought a pretty controversial question to mind. Part of me wanted to know the answer to that question, but another revelled in the tight spot it would corner the chunin into.

I chewed my tongue for a bit before tentatively raising my hand.

Mizubayashi nodded.

"Sir, what if the people you love and fight for one day become enemies of Konoha? What then? Would we lose the Will of Fire?"

He tilted his head. "Mind explaining what you mean?"

I swallowed. This was going to be bad, but what the hell? Not like there's any guilt stopping me.

"Take… Orochimaru. He was one of the Legendary Sannin – he almost became the Fourth Hokage at one point. But he betrayed the village. Doesn't caring for him – no matter who he was before – mean you'd go against the Will of Fire?"

Now, I don't know about it being so quiet that you could hear a pin drop – I probably would if anyone had a pin to drop – but it was quiet enough that the howling wind outside intruded through the closed windows.

The mention of the disgraced Sannin was enough to turn the curious glances into slight frowns and critical whispers. I stared defiantly at the dozens of judging eyes pointed in my direction. This would probably push me further away from my peers than I already was, but it didn't matter.

I'm conflicted about Hashirama Senju's ideals and the thing known as the Will of Fire. Love and understanding are important in reaching peace – be that a happy one or simply grudging coexistence. But what happens when it gets in the way of peace like Lord Third's refusal to kill Orochimaru? Because of Lord Third, Orochimaru was at large in the Elemental Nations, kidnapping and experimenting on God knows how many innocents.

Looking at it in another way, what happens when hatred and vengeance overlap with the pursuit of peace, leading to even more war? I clenched my jaw at the remembrance of that night, expelling the surge of negativity as best as I could with an explosive breath.

This wasn't about me right now. It was about the Will of Fire as an ideology.

The silence stretched on until it was almost unbearable. Mizubayashi hummed. His jaw shifted like he was carefully considering his words before voicing them for the class to hear. Before he could, though, there was a rattling bell that announced the end of the period and the start of lunch.

Whatever he was going to say would have been – and was – drowned by the collective scuttles and rattles of everyone packing up.

I took a few curious glances at Mizubayashi as I followed the queue down the stairs. His eyes were cautious, almost. I couldn't tell. All I knew was that they were intense. His stare dug into my back when I turned to leave through the door.

Maybe it was my questioning or something else entirely, but I had a feeling he'd be taking notice of me a lot more from now on. Beyond being a twat of an essay marker anyway.

As usual, I took to the rooftop for lunch, back against the locked doors of some kind of storeroom. Distant cries and giggles drifted from the playground below. A strange heaviness rooted me to the ground as I took frequent bites out of my sandwich.

I'd made sure to pack some extra protein in advance. Two hard-boiled eggs. Coupled with the sandwich, I'd have more than enough energy for this afternoon's spars. Some ramen after school would be perfect for some carbs – the taste is just a bonus.

I shivered a little and zipped up my coat. As cold as the weather is up here, I prefer it over the inevitable awkwardness that would come from playing with children in a sandpit. My lips turned down in disgust. Almost two decades later I can still feel the grind of sand grains in the back of my mouth.

I took a swig from my water bottle and leaned back against the metal doors, the chilling wind's sharp prickles dancing across my face.

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I stretched my tongue along the inside of my mouth, left eye twitching at the sting where I'd chewed up my cheek. Blaming eyes latched onto Sasuke. He stared back, seemingly unreadable at first glance.

But I'd grown used to his usual demeanour. Iruka was to thank for that. He's consistently been pairing me with those best at taijutsu in our class – namely Sasuke, Choji, Hinata, Kiba, and a repeater from last year by the name of Sabo.

With Sasuke, the tells weren't in his face, but his body. Like his shaking lead hand and the defined clench in his jaw. He was tired, plain and simple. As good of a poker face as he has, Sasuke isn't as unflappable as he's trying to have me believe, and me? I had the energy to spare and then some.

Darting in, I faked a jab to his head, pulling in my fist to slam an elbow into the side of his guard. His torso dipped and his weight shifted to his back leg when I took the opportunity to shoulder-check him. It wasn't as effective as I thought – it didn't push him out of the circle.

I did succeed in smothering him, slipping in quick body blows while he fought to push me away from his chest. A hot flash exploded across my face. The clunk of my jaws slamming together shuddered up my head and my nose began to throb.

My lead hand rose between us – half-opened to parry and defend me – while I blinked tears away. Worst case: I'd be prepared to grab a fistful of his shirt and throw the niceties out the window. I doubted it would keep him away for long, but it'd buy me some time. 

Something slightly warmer than my saliva seeped across my mouth. By its heavy, metallic aftertaste, I must've chewed up that cut pretty badly. None of the Academy medics would tend to it on grounds of it being self-administered – which was the bullshit rule they applied to me and me only.

I know that if Sasuke were to go to them with a busted-up mouth, they'd heal it immediately, gushing about how he must've got it during sparring. It's one thing for me to shrug off the villagers, unable to do anything, but people actively sabotaging my future – not just Fujino – was starting to get old… and quickly at that.

I spat a glob of bloody saliva to the side, chuckling as a girl from the Sasuke Fangirl crowd belted a loud "eww". The amusement was enough to force the wave of vitriol to recede and I sighed. Sasuke wasn't to blame for any of this – hell, he's had it worse than me.

Not that this was a competition or anything but I pitied him, truly. I, at least, had almost two decades of experience and coping to fall back on when my parents died. It wasn't all effective, but he had none of it.

Pity has no place in a fight, though. I tightened my fist and spat out another glob. As long as I didn't mangle the cut, the bleeding should stop.

Sasuke glanced down at the bloody spit with a smidge of pride in his dark eyes. He batted aside my lead hand, throwing his right towards my exposed face. I pulled up my back hand to stop it.

He hissed as I sunk my lead hand in from below. His tensed stomach coiled around my knuckles and I leaned away from a swinging hook, mindful of the ring's edge a handful of steps behind me.

One good hit would send me over.

The brief pause in the fight had allowed him to reclaim the centre of the ring. Now I was the one on the back foot. I threw up a hasty turtle shell born out of a year of constant pummellings from my previous life.

It wouldn't save me for long; experienced boxers had taught me as much. Boxers; who, bear in mind, aren't allowed to use anything but their fists.

Sasuke's fists hit me where my hunch-backed turtle shell guard didn't cover: my stomach. I dug my heels deeper into the hard ground beneath us. I peered at him through my raised fists, counting through gritted teeth.

Leave a man to do nothing but wail on you and they'll fall into a pattern. That was the first thing I learned. Most experienced fighters correct that, but there aren't any experienced fighters in the Academy.

Sasuke's hands slipped behind my neck and his elbows squeezed around my raised arms. Knee after knee collided against my forearms. Eventually, one would slip between them and end the fight. With how hard he was hitting me, I'd be surprised if I'm not gasping for air.

His grunts, the scratches of our shoes against the ground, and my breaths and whispers were the only sounds I registered. I clenched my stomach, waiting it out as my body jolted.

Another knee was headed my way for sure. I twisted my hips and pushed my shin against his inner thighs. I muttered a curse as our knees clacked together hollowly.

Sasuke stumbled back, more off-balance than he had been this entire fight. I dove for his legs, pulling them out from beneath him, and pounced. He pulled his head up and offered his back to the ground.

I brought down my fist with about as much restraint as could be given his age – but enough to end the fight. A pained yelp tore his grimacing mouth wide open and I mounted his body.

My twitching fist hovered over his face and it would be faster than anything he could do. This fight was over, and he could see it too. He gulped, grudging respect mingling with frustration.

When Sasuke and I spar, it's not like he doesn't win. I just win more. At the same time, those aren't wins I can take any satisfaction in. Where taijutsu is concerned, my "spot" at the top of the class isn't assured for very long. I'd like to say it frustrates me, but that would be a lie.

The Academy's basic style – which is a simplified version of Hashirama Senju's taijutsu style taught to every Academy student – was so widespread that nothing I did should be a surprise to anyone worth their salt. My style was a mash of the Academy's taijutsu style and other ones I dabbled in throughout my short life.

Mainly Boxing, Muay Thai, and some grappling off the street. It was not going to last long without any improvement. Most fights I had with the top taijutsu contenders in my class were mental battles I won through experience, not superior skill.

I would soon be ousted from the number one spot – if not this year then the next. People like Sasuke, Hinata, and Kiba had their clans' taijutsu styles and expert instruction. Those styles are more polished than my year-long experience boxing and the few tips I'd grabbed from conferences and friends practising other arts.

I could reach out to Lord Third, but I wouldn't. Does that mean my stumbling around blindly was my own fault? Probably. No, definitely. But we had grown too far apart for me to have that kind of relationship with him.

Or maybe that was just my ego talking. I gave a mental shrug and opened my fist. Sasuke clasped his first two fingers around mine and I pulled him up using my free hand.

The watching crowd exploded into cheers for all of five seconds before Iruka shut them up with a yell. He cleared his throat and smiled at the both of us – well… more at Sasuke than me, but he still gave me my flowers.

Practically glowing praise from him.

"That was a good fight, you two. I could see that you were both thinking multiple steps ahead. Sasuke, Naruto was just thinking a little further ahead than you were, which is why you lost. It really could have gone either way."

Sasuke folded his arms with a frown and I knew better than to give him any commiserations. Having the person who beat you compliment your performance after a fight that you lost rarely feels good.

I nodded at him.

He blinked at me and returned it slowly. The unwanted and unneeded crowd of fangirls quickly formed around him, a few stopping to shoot nasty glares at me. I backed off with a snort and wandered over to Choji and Shikamaru, who were with the rest of the class.

Sasuke and I were one of the last people to spar, so there wasn't long left till the end of the lesson and all the other interesting fights had ended before ours. I trudged down the Academy's front steps sorer than I would have liked. Usually, I try to fight passively, but it wasn't an option this time around.

I veered around crowds of parents and children and took to the path leading into the heart of the village. The sizzles of street stalls and energised yells surged and fell. With it being winter, the sun was nearly submerged beneath the horizon at the end of the school day.

I muffled a yawn behind my hands as I reached Ichiraku Ramen, taking a good look between the fabric covers on the shop's front. It was enough to see that it was busy this evening. There were six seated, with at least half a dozen more lined up. Dozens more would come before closing time.

Nighttime is when ramen bars are the busiest in Konoha. Especially during the winter. A hot bowl of ramen is the perfect thing for Konoha's freezing nights.

I hung my coat on the back of the door and yelled a greeting towards the kitchen. "I'm back!"

Ayame popped her head out of the kitchen door and grinned. "You're not looking so hot today. Who beat you up?"

"You should see the other guy," I laughed and then winced when the side of my tongue lapped against the inside of my cheek.

"Is your mouth cut?"

"Yup."

She frowned and pulled me into the kitchen by the hand. Forced to sit on a stool while Ayame mixed some salt and warm water, I peered around the kitchen for Mr Teuchi. His usual booming laugh came from the serving window.

"Hey, Mr Teuchi," I called. "I'm back!"

His response was instantaneous. I heard his footsteps before I saw him turn the corner where my legs dangled off a stool.

"How was school today?"

"Pretty good. Some interesting stuff happened too."

He worked on preparing a bowl of tonkotsu ramen while we talked, looking back at me when he could.

"Interesting how?"

"Well, today we sparred, and that's always fun. I learnt a few things during it too. The next time I spar again, I'll do it differently"

Like keeping my jaw clenched and breathing out of my nose. I usually do, but I'm going to make it a habit this time. The one time I didn't, Sasuke clocked me right in the mouth.

"That's good, that's good. Anything else you'd like to share?"

"He can do that after this." Ayame pressed a half-filled cup of salt water into my hands. "Move that around your mouth, make sure you focus on the cut. It won't be fun, but it'll hurt less once you're done."

I took a swig, a sharp spike exploding across the tender flesh. I did as instructed. Each rinse hurt less and less until the cut was a faint throb in the side of my mouth.

Emptying the rest of the water into the sink, I pointed at my cheek. "I've got a cut."

"I see," said Teuchi. "I'll make sure your ramen isn't too spicy, then. Now, mind answering my question?"

"Oh. Uh. I guess you could call this interesting."

I stopped at a snicker.

Ayame waved her sieve at me. Broth dripped onto the kitchen floor and the scum within the tool almost tipped over its sides.

"When someone says anything like that, it's guaranteed to not be interesting."

"Now, now, Ayame," Teuchi slid a ramen bowl through the serving window. "Any more and you'll be bullying him. Don't think I haven't seen what you say to him when you think I can't hear you."

She spun around with a stamp of her foot.

"What do you mean I'm bullying him?" she said incredulously. "He's said far worse and you know it! As his elder by ten years, it's my job to make sure he doesn't get a big head."

My lips twitched into a smile. "It's not me who has a big head right now."

"What was that?"

I glanced off at the customers slurping down the noodles with a grin.

"At least I can reach a shelf, short stack."

I laughed when Teuchi threatened to make her cut onions all night if she took it further. "Anyway, we covered the Will of Fire today in class. If the whole idea behind it is to love and protect those around us to achieve peace, why is it only limited to the Land of Fire?"

Teuchi hummed but didn't say anything for a little while. The clamour of the restaurant meant that the silence wasn't awkward, but I was left on the edge of my seat (literally) for his reply.

"I've never been a shinobi, so don't take my word as law. The existence of chakra and jutsu means that conflict will always be a thing. The Hidden Village system was invented with the end of war and conflict in mind, but the reality is that nothing has changed since the Warring Clans era."

His voice trailed and I found my thoughts doing the same.

Bottom line is, the Will of Fire is an ideal. The reality is that war will always happen. Be it because of revenge, altruism, ambition, or hope. So long as those in suffering existed, there would be those who sought to change their circumstances through it.

In a way, I understood why Nagato and Konan were so bent on teaching others through pain (the persona and the sensation). It's a fresh, constant reminder of the consequences of war. Just as a child learns to not touch a boiling kettle, people will learn not to wage war through mass, indiscriminate pain.

But pain fades away until it's nothing but a memory. What then? Make them feel more pain? That would only fuel the cycle of hatred and retaliation.

Even as my eyes grew heavy and tired, my mind grasped for alternatives and solutions.

I'd come from a world less brutal than this one, where world wars had still happened. Was peace possible here, when every man, woman, and child could kill with a wave of their hand and go about their day?

"Naruto."

My droopy eyes snapped open. Teuchi mussed up my hair with a laugh.

"You think too much. There's no use in cooking up hypothetical futures in your head when you can't do anything about them in the present. Focus on graduating from the Academy before you tackle this life's big questions. Now, if you wish to cook here, how about I teach you about proper plating?"

More than happy to do so, I peered attentively from my stool. Unfortunately, height isn't something I'll be seeing much of for quite some time

I worked well into the evening, only leaving when the waves of customers finally began to thin – and at Mr Teuchi's insistence too. I would have stayed longer if not for him.

Would I have been able to? Probably not given that I'm moments away from nodding off, but it's the thought that counts.

Finally arriving home, I only stopped to take off my shoes.

Despite my exhaustion, my mind jumped to tomorrow's plans, putting an unneeded damper on my otherwise good mood. It had been a week since Fujino screwed me over and despite my doubts, I'd be willing to give her an out if she took it.

Making a spectacle out of this would only make things harder for me but I was more than willing to bring her up to Lord Third if she didn't.

It all depended on how tomorrow went.