The sun began its slow tilt toward the west, painting the village in hues of bruised purple and honey. Inside the Ninja Academy, the first day was finally drawing to a close.
Ibuki-sensei stood behind the podium, snapping his attendance book shut with a definitive thwack. "Alright, that's a wrap for day one. Check your bags, make sure you have your assignments, and don't even think about being late tomorrow."
The classroom instantly hit its boiling point. Before the teacher could even finish his sentence, a blur of red and yellow erupted from a seat in the middle row. Shinchan didn't just leave; he launched.
"Snacks, snacks, beautiful snacks..."
He hummed a frantic little tune to himself, zipping through the hallways like a rogue gale. He cleared the playground and shot through the main gates with a velocity that easily eclipsed his "Destiny Sprint" toward Asagi-sensei earlier that afternoon.
At the gate, the security guard felt a sudden rush of air that ruffled his hair. He blinked, staring at the empty street. "Did a kid just break the sound barrier?"
"Looked like it," his partner replied, leaning on a post. "Must be a bathroom emergency."
The guard sighed, shaking his head with a wistful smile. "Man, it's good to be young."
The "good to be young" figure was already two blocks away when he suddenly skidded to a halt. Shinchan stood in the middle of the sidewalk, tilting his head as he stared at the lengthening shadows.
"Hmm?"
A nagging sensation tugged at the back of his mind. It felt like he'd left a puzzle piece behind. He frowned, mentally replaying the day's highlights: being dragged by Misae, meeting the Big-Brow Duo, the Great Pepper War at lunch, and his romantic declaration to Asagi-sensei.
Everything checked out.
"Whatever," Shinchan shrugged after exactly two seconds of deep thought. "If it was important, it wouldn't be so hard to remember. Logic!"
He resumed his sprint, his mind refocusing on the ultimate goal: sugar.
Back at the Academy gates, Might Guy was still standing.
He hadn't expected Shinchan to move quite that fast. Having missed him in the post-class chaos, Guy decided to wait at the entrance, his eyes tracking every single student who walked through. Shinchan had promised they would train together after school. The boy who had shouted "Youth" with them in the morning—the boy who stood by them when the world laughed—wouldn't just disappear.
The setting sun caught the emerald sheen of Guy's jumpsuit, casting a lonely, elongated shadow across the pavement.
A group of students walked past. No red shirt.
Two more. Still nothing.
A dozen more. No sign of his new friend.
Guy's thick eyebrows began to droop, but he didn't budge. "Just five more minutes," he whispered to the silence. "He's probably just... finding the right shoes."
Meanwhile, Shinchan had reached the ultimate sanctuary: the kitchen. He kicked his shoes off—one landing in the rack, the other in a potted plant—and stormed into the house.
"You're back!" he shouted, a reflex rather than a statement.
"It's 'I'm home,' you brat!" Misae's voice drifted from the kitchen. "Wash your hands. Your snacks are on the table."
Shinchan's eyes turned into literal stars. He did a half-hearted hand wash and pounced on the dining table. Before him sat a plate of delicate sponge cakes and a cold glass of milk. He scooped up a massive bite, stuffing his face until his cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's.
Misae walked out, untying her apron. Seeing her son devouring the cake, she couldn't help but let out a small, tired laugh. "Slow down, Shinchan. The cake isn't going to run away."
"Mmph... sho... good..." he mumbled through a cloud of crumbs.
Misae sat across from him, watching him for a moment before a thought struck her. "By the way, didn't you make a big deal this morning about training with that man in the green jumpsuit? The 'Youth' enthusiast?"
Shinchan's jaw stopped mid-chew. He looked up, his eyes blinking in slow motion.
Then he blinked again.
Seeing the sudden blankness on his face, Misae's heart sank. "You didn't. Shinchan, did you forget?"
Shinchan slowly lowered his spoon. The gears in his head finally turned, and his expression shifted from confusion to a painful realization, and finally to a rare, genuine look of guilt.
"Oh. Right. That guy," he whispered.
"That guy?" A vein began to throb on Misae's temple. "You gave him your word! That man was so happy he was practically vibrating! He's probably still waiting for you!"
Shinchan looked down at the half-eaten cake, his shoulders slumping. "But... the snacks were calling me. They have a very persuasive voice."
Misae took a deep breath. She stood up, walked around the table, and knelt beside his chair. When she spoke, her voice wasn't loud or angry—it was soft and serious, the tone she saved for the big lessons.
"Shinchan, look at me. If you promise someone your time, and then you just... don't show up... how do you think they feel?"
Shinchan poked at a crumb. "They'll be sad?"
"More than just sad," Misae said, nodding. "They'll think you're someone who doesn't care. They'll think Shinchan's word doesn't mean anything. Is that the kind of man you want to be?"
Shinchan went silent. The house felt very quiet for a few seconds. He looked at the milk, then back at his mother. She wasn't yelling; she was just waiting for him to do the right thing.
Shinchan slid down from his chair, his little yellow shorts squeaking against the wood.
"Mom."
"Yes?"
"Keep that cake under guard," he said, pulling his shoes back on with newfound determination. "I'm going to go find the green caterpillars."
Misae smiled, a warm, proud look in her eyes. "I'll protect it with my life. Go on."
Shinchan pulled the door open, then paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Hey, Mom."
"Yeah?"
"Did you get that speech from a movie? It was really dramatic. Very high-budget."
"JUST GO!" Misae roared, the moment of tenderness evaporating.
Shinchan bolted out the door. He ran a few paces, then stopped at the end of the driveway, scratching his head. What was that kid's name again? Ghee? Guy? Green Bean?
"Whatever," he muttered, taking off at a sprint. "I'll know him when I see the eyebrows."
At the school gate, the light was fading fast.
Guy was still there, now drawing small, sad circles in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. His shadow was nearly touching the wall.
"He definitely forgot," Guy whispered to himself, his voice thick. "I mean, who would actually want to train with someone like me? It was probably just a joke."
"Maybe he was just held up by a very important cake emergency."
Guy's head snapped up.
Standing a few feet away was a round-faced boy in a red shirt, panting heavily with beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Shinchan stood with his hands on his hips, trying to look cool despite being out of breath.
"Sorry I'm late," Shinchan wheezed. "I had to handle some high-level negotiations at home. But I'm here! Let's burn some... whatever we were burning!"
Guy froze, his eyes widening before they filled with massive, crystalline tears.
"SHINCHAN!" Guy lunged forward, nearly tackling him with a hug that threatened to crack ribs. "I knew it! I knew you'd come! I've been waiting forever!"
"Ack—too much... Youth... can't... breathe..." Shinchan gasped.
Guy let go, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and flashing a blindingly white grin. "It doesn't matter how long I waited! The fact that you came proves your Youth is the real deal! You're a man of your word, Shinchan!"
"Yeah, well," Shinchan said, mimicking Guy's thumbs-up. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Now, let's get to the burning part before my mom eats my cake."
The two figures, one red and one green, took off side-by-side toward the training grounds under the glowing orange sky.
In the distance, Might Duy was currently doing handstand laps around the field. When he saw the two small silhouettes running toward him, his own eyes erupted into fountains of joy.
"YOUTH!" Duy howled, his voice echoing off the Hokage Rock. "My son has found a brother in arms!"
He flipped through the air, landing perfectly with his arms wide open. "Come, my youthful students! Tonight, we push past the limits of the soul!"
If you like it, please give power stones.