In the shinobi world, the most direct reason to earn respect is still strength.
Amane understood that, just as he understood some people were fated never to be friends, while others could be used and even, someday, drawn to his side.
A simple shuriken test had let him turn a cigarette butt into a blast.
Of course he would never show off without cause.
Proving one's value at the right time mattered in this world.
Sometimes he understood what Obito once said.
No one escapes the cycle of this world that manufactures trash.
Yet the ones who said it were often trash themselves.
He shook his head, adjusted his glasses, and drifted to Hinata's side to stand quietly.
"Amane-kun... so strong."
For the shy girl, a small nod seemed to take great effort.
"There is much stronger."
He smiled warmly at her, mind flicking back to the first time they met.
It was winter, right after the Cloud abduction incident. The Hyuga had lost the branch head Hyuga Hizashi. Three-year-old Hinata had sunk into guilt and hid alone in the snow, only to be cornered by a few delinquent kids.
He had played the hero and sent those boys to the hospital.
It was unreasonable, yet it happened.
Sometimes the unreasonable felt more real.
The Hyuga were a great clan in Konoha, the Byakugan easy to recognize, yet those kids dared taunt the Byakugan princess in broad daylight.
It was not their courage that deserved mention, it was the presence of the Third Hokage. He made every noble clan's presence feel small.
Weaken the houses, uplift the commoners.
That was the Third's policy.
He even made the so-called commoners forget that their safety was bought with the blood of those very clans on the battlefield.
There was no such thing as a chat without motive. With a light touch to Hinata's red cheek, Amane tilted his head.
With Hinata, he admitted he was base.
He coveted her body, and he was thinking of the Hyuga.
He believed that after the Cloud incident, the whole clan, including Hyuga Hiashi, nursed a fire in their chests.
Sadly, in the tale, Hiashi never got to vent it, and took that fire into the grave.
Amane meant to fan it at the right moment.
Some people were worth using.
Some people, no matter the reason, could not be used.
He glanced at Naruto in the corner, and a keen light rose in his eyes.
His frequent contact with the Nine Tails' jinchuriki had drawn the leadership's attention. Iruka had even pulled him aside to give a veiled warning.
Amane did not care.
Warn him to stay away from Naruto?
What a joke.
The seed he had planted in that heart was sprouting. Soon Naruto would grasp the truth that he lived not for others, but for himself.
Then, at a proper time, Amane would tell him the truth of his birth. That was the goal.
The earlier Naruto learned he was the child of a hero and that his parents died to protect Konoha, the more likely his thinking would shift.
Imagine the cold looks and discrimination he suffered as a child. If he had known then who he was, what would he have thought?
My father died to protect you, and this is how you treat his son.
In Amane's place, he would have thought exactly that.
Over time that thought would take root, and everything else would follow.
Of course.
Every reincarnation of Asura was a stubborn blockhead. The First, strongest in the world, knelt and gave away tailed beasts. Naruto forgave the killers of his parents.
Washing a blockhead's brain was not easy.
He sighed. The work was heavy, yet he found he enjoyed it.
"Asuma-san, I will leave the next part to you."
Shuriken, seals, and basic theory were done.
Iruka exhaled, logged the scores, and announced the next phase.
Taijutsu was up.
Truth be told, he wished Guy would handle it, but the Third wanted to polish his son's image. No one could stop that.
Besides, these were only academy students. Sarutobi Asuma had just returned to the village, but he was a jōnin in full.
Any jōnin's record could fill a book.
"Do not worry. Leave it to me."
Asuma's answer made Iruka's mouth twitch. To someone who did not know, it sounded like a farewell before a life-or-death battle.
Asuma's gaze swept the grounds, then snagged on two figures.
Yūhi Kurenai and Mitarashi Anko had come to check something at the academy.
A crowd of students on the training field naturally drew their eyes.
At once, Asuma perked up.
The stiff testing plan he had rehearsed was tossed aside.
Amane had not been wrong.
Once Asuma learned what the jewel truly was, he itched to leave behind his legacy.
But Kurenai always ignored him.
Now a chance was right here.
He would show Kurenai he was a real man, a strong man.
He strode to the middle, ripped off his ninja vest, and bared a soft beer belly and a palm-wide tuft of chest hair. Amane nearly gagged.
Without a word, before Ino and Hinata could see, he clapped both girls' eyes shut.
What was this man even trying to do?
"Listen up, little ones."
"A real man needs a strong body, muscle, and spirit."
THUMP THUMP!
COUGH COUGH COUGH!
He slapped his chest, face flushing red. Years of smoking had left his lungs weak, and he had no muscle to begin with. The heavy thumps rattled his lungs.
Coughing was inevitable.
The sight turned the stomach.
"Kurenai, let's go."
"I feel sick."
Anko clutched her mouth and shook her head. Coming with her bestie to check on Konoha's new generation had been a terrible idea.
"Who told you to look at him?"
Kurenai rolled her eyes. She had not glanced at Asuma at all. Her gaze rested only on the spectacled Uchiha boy.
Yes.
That brat had reached academy age.
...