Training Grounds 33.
The Day Before Graduation.
"We need some sort of plan." Ando Kaze's voice cut through the quiet of the training ground with an urgency that hadn't been there a few months ago. His hands moved as he spoke, punctuating every sentence alongside his blue eyes that darted between each of his companions, searching for someone–anyone–to agree with him.
In response, Mori Fūma let out an incredulous snort. "A plan?" She echoed as she folded her arms underneath her chest. "What sort of plan can get us out of the Third Shinobi War?"
Mori sat atop a broad, sun-warmed boulder near the edge of the clearing with one knee raised high whilst the other lazily dangled over the edge. Despite her relaxed posture, there was nothing relaxed about her expression. Her dark eyes were sharp and skeptical, almost challenging him to answer.
"Not get us out of it…" Ando admitted, slowing his pace. "..but maybe we can change it. Influence it. Even if only a little…"
His voice softened. "Think of the lives we could save with what we know."
For a brief moment, the clearing fell quiet except for the rustling of leaves overhead. Then–
"Really Ando?" Mori Fuma's eyebrows shot upward.
"Since when has your hero complex gotten this bad?" She hopped down from the rock with a dull thump, and brushed the dirt off her shorts.
"We are five, about-to-be Genin with no reputation, no authority, and barely enough strength to beat most of the Academy!" Mori argued.
She jabbed a finger into Ando's chest. "We are weak."
She jabbed another finger. "We survive. That is all we can do."
"For what it's worth…" Natsuko Sarutobi finally chimed in. She had remained silent until now, seated atop a weathered log half-buried beneath the tall spring grass. One leg swung absentmindedly while a small twig rotated lazily between her fingers.
"...I agree with both of you." Natsuko said.
Everyone turned.
Natsuko shrugged.
"Me too." Sen Aburame's voice was quieter, almost swallowed by the breeze. He stood slightly ajar from the others beneath the shade of an old oak. His hands were tucked within his jacket pockets as always and his gray hood was pulled low.
"I agree with both, I mean." Sen clarified.
High above them–
"I AGREE TOO!" Okuda Tomomori's voice rang out upside down.
Literally. As the boy hung by his knees from a thick tree branch, swaying gently back and forth like a particularly enthused bat.
"We should ABSOLUTELY save everyone we can!" He pumped both his fists dramatically.
"And surviving is important too! One hundred percent!!" Okuda swung even harder.
"But we can't expose ourselves." Natsuko said solemnly. She twirled the twig once before snapping it cleanly in half.
"The second it seems like we know too much is the second Danzo looks our way."
The name alone seemed to cool the air.
"So we can't outwardly do anything. Not in the literal sense." Natsuko concluded.
"But we still have to try!" Ando's voice rose with passion. "The Third War was always labeled the bloodiest!" The blonde boy pointed toward the village beyond the trees.
"Think about our classmates!" His voice cracked slightly. "Do you guys recognize any of them??"
Silence.
"Because I certainly don't!" Ando Kaze counted on his fingers. "Nana Inuzuku. Nozomi Yamanaka. Shuzo Nara. Masami Akimichi! Taro Hyuga!"
Each name landed a litter heavier than the last.
"We know the story." Ando swallowed. "And they're not in it." His gaze drifted toward the Academy, hidden beyond the trees.
The realization hung over the group.
"The Third Shinobi War earned the moniker meatgrinder… right? Don't you get it? We're the generation that's gonna get fed into the grinder."
Natsuko sighed. She rested her elbows on her knees.
"Again, Ando, I don't think you're wrong, but what do you suppose we do?" She looked up at him.
Then, she started counting down events on her fingers.
"We know Minato becomes famous. We know about his battle with the future Fourth Raikage and Killer B. We know about the Third Raikage's death. What else?" Natsuko rattled off.
"Sasori assassinated the Third Kazekage." Sen Aburame added immediately.
"And then defected." Four heads turned toward Sen Aburame.
The attention made Sen slightly uncomfortable.
"It is the only event that has already happened." Sen reasoned.
Suddenly, Ando Kaze's eyes transformed into brilliant, pulsating stars. "SEN!!" He lunged forward and grabbed both of Sen's shoulders.
"You're a genius!!" Ando praised.
Underneath the gray mask and goggles, Sen Aburame's cheeks flushed pink. Compliments. Direct eye contact. Physical contact. It was… a lot.
"Thank you." Sen Aburame mumbled.
"Great." Natsuko pinched the bridge of her nose. "Now we actually have something concrete, but the question remains: who exactly do we tell? And, more importantly, how do we tell them?"
The excitement quickly faded into contemplation.
The group of five kids pondered within the training ground. The sky above them stretched endlessly blue and soft, white clouds drifted coolly across the horizon, carried by a gentle spring breeze that stirred the leaves overhead. The wind brought with it the fragrance of blooming roses from nearby gardens as well as wild jasmine that clung to the forest's edge.
Birdsong echoed through the canopies and, somewhere deeper within the woods, water trickled over stone. It was peaceful. Undeniably so.
Yet, beyond those trees, weapon forges were working overtime.
Supply caravans were traveling under armed escort.
Mission requests were increasing by the day.
Jonin disappeared frequently, for weeks at a time.
The Academy curriculum had even quietly shifted towards more battlefield practicality.
Childhood was ending.
War was on the horizon.
Scratch that. War had already begun. It was merely time for this generation of Ninja to join it.
"Maybe…" Ando broke the silence. "...maybe we can tell our Jonin instructor? You know, assuming they're trustworthy… and competent."
Mori barked a laugh.
"Hah!" She shook her head. "Quite the high bar, don't you think? That's basically saying someone we recognize from the future."
Ando Kaze simply grinned. Wide and bright.
Hopelessly optimistic. "I mean…"
He looked at his four friends. "...anything can happen."
***
Ninja Academy.
Graduation Day.
Classroom 2A sat quietly in their seats. Their Sensei stood before them, clipboard-in-hand. His steely brown eyes roamed the clipboard, then promptly snapped up to a student, then back to the clipboard.
After taking role and ensuring that all of his students were present, Takegi Sensei clapped his hands and gathered the class's attention.
"First and foremost, I will inform you that today's Graduation Exam consists of two parts: part one–a written test, and part two–a general evaluation including the demonstration of the three basic shinobi arts. For those unable to perform the Transformation Jutsu, the Clone Jutsu, and the Substitution Jutsu–your only result will be failure. Are there any questions?" Takegi Sensei paused as his eyes scanned the class, but no student offered their hand.
"The written exam will commence immediately. Please remove everything from your desk besides your pencil, and with that–the exam has begun! I should only hear silence from this moment forward!" From there, Takegi Sensei went row to row and hand delivered each student's exam papers.
Once he finished, he continued to pace around the room. Occasionally, he would stop beside a student and just watch. Sometimes he would shake his head. Other times he would roll his eyes or have to stop himself from smirking.
His stop beside Okuda's desk was by far the longest. This naturally made the pink-haired boy a nervous wreck. He couldn't stop asking himself, "Am I doing something wrong? Is this not the right answer? Why is he still standing there!??"
Meanwhile, and known to nobody but Takegi himself, the man was simply waiting for Okuda Tomomori to continue writing. The boy had stopped the moment Takegi had arrived. If he could not overcome his performance anxiety right here–right now, then Takegi would have to worry about this student's future as a Ninja.
Thankfully, Okuda finally found the courage to once again wield his pencil in the battle against the exam.
Ninety minutes later the exam concluded. Takegi Sensei clapped his hands abruptly.
"Alright! That's enough! Pencils down everyone!" His voice carried across the room.
At the same time, five pairs of eyes bounced amongst each other. Ando Kaze looked at Okuda Tomomori. Natsuko Sarutobi met eyes with Mori Fūma. Then, collectively, all eyes met Sen Aburame's tinted goggles and, collectively, all heads nodded in confidence.
The written exam was a breeze, even for ol' Pinky.