• Chapter 1: Room 23, 3rd Floor



    Kirigakure Ninja Academy. The starting point of every great ninja of the Village Hidden in the Mist. The students in room twenty-three, third floor are waiting for their sensei to arrive and assign their teams. Only a few days ago, the students of this year’s graduating class were paired off for one-on-one battles and fought… to the death.
    The victors of those battles were the newly-made ninja sitting in this room this day; young genin of nine to twelve years old, already with blood on their hands. Not one of them was fazed by it though. The fact that they had taken the lives of the children they had trained with, shared lunches with, shared dreams with and, in many cases, were best friends with--no, this didn’t disturb anyone. It didn’t even seem to matter, save for the fact that it meant they’d graduated and stirred a few vendettas. They simply talked with their friends who’d survived as they waited for their sensei. It was still a good fifteen minutes until he was supposed to arrive and only a little more than half the class was present as of yet.
    The wooden desks they sat at were long with bench seats that sat three to a table. They were arranged stadium-style, each row rising above the one before it as they went back and three side-by-side tables were in each stair rows with aisles going between them for people to walk up and down. The sliding wooden door was at the front of the room, as well as a chalkboard that took up nearly the entire front wall. There was a small podium there, too, off to the side, for the sensei’s use, if needed. The wall opposite the door had windows that remained level with the desks in a stair-like manor as they went towards the back of the room.
    Three boys sat in the middle desk, second row from the front. One had shoulder-length, deep brown hair and golden eyes, shimmering with intelligence. He was speaking to a boy with the same color brown, spiky hair and similar eyes; but this one’s had a devious gleam in them. The first, Lucien said, “Who knows, maybe we’ll even be on the same team cuz’! I hear they make it a point to ‘balance out the team’s power’ or something. So, putting the Kurosawa’s ‘failure’ with a genius like me would be a great idea, wouldn’t you say, Devonte?” teasing his cousin. Lucien had graduated ninth in the class, and was, indeed, considered a genius with his strengths lying in his brain. Which was perfect for the type of jutsu, (or ‘ninja technique’), that his, Devonte’s and the third boy, Seth’s clan specialized in.
    “HAH! Genius? I don’t think so!” Devonte laughed in a louder-than-necessary voice. “’sides, failure or not, I’m still closer to bein’ head of the clan than you ever will! Nyaaah!” he taunted, sticking out his tongue.
    The third boy, Seth was smiling gently. He had light blonde hair and eyes like Lucien and Devonte. Seth Kurosawa’s eyes were kind and gentle, but they had something hidden behind that friendly facade. Spite. However, he kept silent, holding up his mask expertly.
    A nine year old with glimmering, pure silver hair that reached just past her shoulders slid the door open and entered the classroom she’d been told to report to today. She wore a blue and black vest with baggy, black cargo pants and the Mist Village headband she’d been distributed upon graduating sat proudly on her forehead. It was the same one they all wore in some fashion. Just as a headband, around their necks, as armbands, belts and in just about any other imaginable style. Why did they all wear it? It was the mark of a shinobi ninja of the Village Hidden in the Mist. It meant they’d proven themselves worthy of calling themselves a shinobi and a warrior of their homeland.
    Now, this girl was a bit younger than the majority of her classmates, but she had learned at generally the same pace they had. She didn’t consider herself a ‘prodigy’ or anything and she didn’t have any ‘special training.’ She’d just pushed herself very hard and had been sent to the academy a year early; not an uncommon occurrence. It was merely that most children whose parents did such were either held back for incapability to keep up with the class or were killed in the graduation exam. This year, three students in this situation had graduated. All were age nine.
    One was the girl who’d just arrived, Nyirei. The second was Ai Myoumoto and the third was Ren Watanabe, whose twin had died in the exam. Both were present in the room. Ai was discussing genjutsu techniques (illusionary ninja techniques) with a female class mate and Ren was having a heated argument with his rival, who had also survived.
    Nyirei gave them and the rest of the class nothing more than a short glance. A few of them looked up as she entered, but just as soon looked away either for lack of interest or a strong desire to avoid eye contact. Her eerie blue eyes seemed to shoot daggers at you, even though there was no trace of malice in her expression. She walked straight over to a desk by the window and took and empty seat. She gazed out at the fog-shrouded village outside, pensively.
    Mist was filled with tall, cylindrical buildings that towered high, but not above the Mizukage Building; the largest and grandest of all. It was wider and sat on higher ground than the other buildings below. On the side facing the village’s gate was the kanji symbol for water. It was the building in which the leader of their entire village conducted his work, where most of the village’s documents were kept and was the very heart of Kirigakure’s functioning system. There were a great many other buildings, typically a lot smaller and more low to the ground than others that held some function for the village’s shinobi system. However, most were still of cylindrical shape.
    Ai Myoumoto gave nothing but a passing glance to Nyirei as she made her entrance. Her bright red eye didn’t even make contact with Nyirei’s gleaming blue ones. Ai’s other eye couldn’t even be seen through her long black hair. She just continued her conversation as if nothing had occurred. Her speech didn’t pause of falter; she simply let her sentence flow. “The trick is to keep a level head and focus on the target’s chakra.” She said to her friend as she swept a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear. “Make them your toy and keep them in your control. Simple as that. After all, to a genjutsu master, that is all everyone else really is. A toy.” Ai’s voice had a natural softness to it, making it seem small and whispery, but it was powerful nevertheless. The underlying power in it gave her voice the illusion of being louder. Her voice told you she was utterly confident in herself. Though, not so that it would make her sound cocky.
    The conversation she was having with her friend was a bit of a philosophical one, discussing the nature and keys to genjutsu mastery. Ai’s family didn’t have any kekkei genkai to speak of but they were well known for producing very capable genjutsu masters. Her friend, Mayumi Nakashima was also learning to advance her genjutsu skills. She didn’t specialize in it, but it was one of her stronger points.
    Kaede Hashirama, age ten, was twirling a strand of her light brown hair on her finger as she sat at the front of the class with her friends, chatting away about things like,
    “Maybe I should wear my headband this way?”
    “No, keep it on your forehead. It keeps your hair out of your eyes and besides, if you have to head-butt the metal’ll hurt them more!” and,
    “I hope I don’t get too much blood on this.”
    “I know right? I mean, what if they make us clean up the bodies?”
    “Disgusting! Like hell I would ever do something like that!”
    Pfft. Stupid girl junk. ‘Tch. Morons. You do as you are ordered no matter what it entails.’ Nyirei thought to herself as she listened to the girls’ squabbling. She continued to stare out the window, marveling at the sight below. On this particular morning, the mist covered the village so thoroughly, one could barely make out the academy’s training field right next to the building. She’d seen this view a hundred times, but that didn’t take away from the wonder Nyirei felt at this beautiful sight. It was so calming, which seemed ironic when one took into account the nature of this village. The one nicknamed ‘the Village Hidden in the Bloody Mist.’
    It’s real name was the Village Hidden in the Mist and shortened in various ways, it’s traditional name was Kirigakure and shortened to ‘Kiri’.
    As she considered all these thoughts, she wondered what her team would be like. Her parents had told her a bit about what happened when one became a genin but left most details out. She was content with that. Better for her own development to learn these things through self-experience. Or to experience them with ‘new eyes’, as her mother would say. Still, she couldn’t help feel anxious, wondering who she’d be teamed with. ‘As long as they’re not some weak, half-assed crybaby.’ she mumbled in her head. She wasn’t the high-and-mighty type, but she did have ambitions of her own. Ones that would require her to grow stronger and fast.
    Finally, everyone was present. They talked amongst friends and rivals with feelings of triumph and pride. Several of them had been gifted with new weapons as a reward for graduating. They showed them off for those around to marvel at.
    Devonte now wielded a giant battle axe, 5’5” end to end, which was much bigger than the hatchet he’d previously been training with, but he just said to Lucien that it made him stronger. Nyirei’s mother had taken her to forge her own sword. On the flat of the blade, written in an old language, it said,
    ‘As this sword carves a path to victory, I will carve my own path’
    It was a simple short sword of Celtic-style making but Nyirei carried it on her back with pride.
    The door slid open and in stepped a brunette man in his early thirties, medium build and a scar across his left eye, from his eyebrow down to the middle of his nose. He wore a grey vest with a black shirt underneath and black slacks. This was the ‘standard’ chunin uniform, though not all chunin-level ninja wore it. His Kirigakure headband sat over his eyes, covering most of his scar… and the entirety of his eyes. He spoke in a low, gruff, stern voice. “Now,” he said, addressing his former students to get their attention. They immediately fell silent, as they always did when Taro-sensei spoke. It was rude to speak when others were speaking… and in most cases in Mist would get you a kunai in the face. “First I want to say congratulations on passing the exam.” His tone was even and void of any emotion save for a sliver of pride for these new genin. “You will all be assigned to squads of three. Each will be led by a jounin sensei.”
    You see, there are several ranks for the shinobi ninja. Every shinobi nation follows this system: At the bottom were the academy students, not even official ninja. Then there were the genin, lowest-ranking/beginner ninja. The chunin were the average-level and had the highest amount of ninja in this category. The jounin were the elite, exceptional ninja with skill that far surpass chunin by a large margin. There were also the Anbu/Black Ops. They are typically stronger than jounin, though are sometimes at the same level. If one ever leaves the Black Ops. Unit, their status returns to jounin. In the Five Great Shinobi Nations, they have a leader called a ‘kage.’ This island country is one of those nations. The Village Hidden in the Mist is the ninja village of the Land of Water. It’s kage is called the Mizukage, which means, ‘Water shadow.’ The kage is one who is deemed both the strongest shinobi of their village and an exceptional leader. Ninja of these five nations with aspirations of being the best aspire to be their village’s kage.
    Of course, no genin can hope to get anywhere on their own. They need senseis to guide them. If a jounin chose, he or she could take on a genin squad and train them to be full-fledged ninja; at least until chunin level or whenever they’re deemed ready. Though, most often, even after the jounin is no longer their sensei, they remain on the same squad. This was a system established long ago and would last for ages to come.
    The door slid open again, halting their sensei’s speech. A thirteen year old boy, the oldest in the class, with a medium-lanky build and strawberry-blonde dreadlocks shyly stepped in. On his wrists were senbon-shooting gauntlets, which would have given him a more intimidating appearance were it not for the fact that his arms were trembling as if he were standing in a freezer. “S-sorry I’m late Taro-sensei, I-YAH!” he yelped as he dodged a kunai-knife by shielding himself with the door.
    “Tardiness is unacceptable. It is a display of incompetence. Your incompetence will only lead to yours and your comrades’ demise.” Taro-sensei said coldly, his arm was still outstretched from throwing the kunai.
    “Y-yes sir.” Koji Takeuchi stammered as he hesitantly reentered the room and took an empty seat at the front. His bamboo-green eyes started down at the wooden desk in shame. He could hear the other genin’s snickers from behind him for being scolded by Taro-sensei… again! Oh why hadn’t he just gotten here on time? He thought of all the little things maybe he shouldn’t have done in order to get to the classroom faster. Maybe he shouldn’t have talked so much during breakfast. Maybe he should have skipped breakfast entirely? Maybe he should have let those kids get their ball down themselves? But none of those ‘maybe’s’ were going to save him from the shame now.
    “As I was saying, I expect all your missions to run smoothly. Never accept failure!” Taro-sensei ordered sternly. He paused for a moment, then the edges of his lips twisted into a warped smile, and though you couldn’t see his eyes they managed to pierce one’s heart with fear. “After all… I’d hate to have to see any of you back here so soon.”
    The genin didn’t seem to frightened by his twisted sneer, they were used to their sensei’s antics, but it still sent chills up a few spines. And his comment did raise a few eyebrows.
    ‘Now what could he mean by that?’ Lucien wondered with an impassive face.
    ‘Uhh…W-wha-wha… what? Back here so soon? What’s that supposed to mean?’ Koji thought in his panicked mind.
    ‘Ugh. Quit beating around the bush already. Just give us our teams!’ Kaede groaned to herself.
    “Moving on, the squad assignments are as follows,” Almost everyone tensed. Those that didn’t weren’t as worked up about their assignments as the others, but for those who seriously cared, this was what they’d all been anticipating with only vague guess at what the outcome might be. Would they be teamed with their friends or would they be separated? Would rivals get a chance to continue their self-imposed competitions or would they be forced to work together? Taro-sensei continued. “Squad One: Lucien Kurosawa,”
    Lucien looked up with a bit of a prideful smile for the fact that he was called first and before Devonte! He grinned at his cousin who was, as usual, grinning right back.
    “Hideki Nandaba,”
    A boy in the front row sitting closest to the door looked back at Lucien. He had brown hair with the tips dyed green and hazel eyes. Devonte had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter. Hideki was one of the worst students in the class! Lucien had a deadpan expression, silently cursing the Gods for ‘putting him with this idiot!’
    “and Naoto Miyake.”
    A boy with black but dyed blonde and brown eyes grinned. Naoto was one of the older students, at age twelve and he was in the top thirty students (above average). He could only think ‘At least one of my teammates is worth something. Hideki can get himself killed for all I care, so long as he don’t screw up the mission.’
    Taro-sensei didn’t stall. “Squad Two: Ren Watanabe,” This time everyone took interest, even if it was just passing inquisitiveness. There were three ‘kid graduates’ this year, and everyone was saying they’d probably be teamed together. Though they were pretty sure their speculations were at least ninety-eight percent right, they were still curious. Ren just ran a hand though his black hair and gazed down at Taro-sensei lazily though hazy grey eyes from the back row. “Ai Myoumoto,” They knew it. They were going to be teamed together. Well, the three did seem that they’d be able to work together quite well, and they were the of the same age- “and Kaito Okada.” There was a joint moment of surprise. Half looked over at either Kaito or Nyirei while the rest simply looked puzzled. True enough, everyone knew Kaito and Ren’s abilities worked well in conjoint efforts, but still…
    With that, yet another question was laid out on the table for the young genin. Who would be teamed with Nyirei? Would anybody else be able to work with her? She always put the assignment first and would do whatever was asked of her, which was good, but she occasionally let lose a terrible temper when provoked too far. These instances were rare- but frightening. The only person who was able to quell that anger when it was roused or even put up with it… was not among the survivors.
    Nyirei didn’t show it, but she was surprised she wasn’t being placed with Ren and Ai. She, too, had been half expecting it, but now that those speculations had been disproven it just left room for more curiosity and questions. Taro-sensei didn’t even seem to notice any of their reactions as he went on. “Squad Three: Devonte Kurosawa,”
    Devonte refocused his attention on Taro-sensei as his name was called. After all, anything to do with himself was way more important than anyone else’s business.
    “Koji Takeuchi,”
    The red-head looked nervous and relieved at the same time. ‘Two, two of us have already been named. The third probably isn’t her. It probably isn’t her. It probably-’
    Koji’s panicked train of thought was forced to a screeching stop when Taro-sensei said, “and Nyirei.” Koji paled and his face dropped. Nyirei’s eye twitched, but so slightly that no one would notice her brief flash of frustration. There were several snickers from the other genin in the class, making poor Koji feel even more uncomfortable. Devonte couldn’t help but lean over to Lucien and whisper, “Ooooo, he’s gonna get it!”
    “And you’re gonna have front-row seats to this, you lucky dog!” That got them both laughing softly, even though Lucien was still upset about his team.
    A kunai wizzed past Devonte and Lucien, between their leaned in heads. The knife cut their cheeks, making a small scratch that blood trickled out from. The both put a hand to their minor wounds, simply out of surprise. Taro-sensei was shooting them a dangerous ‘look.’ They were genin now, there was no more room for fooling around and screw-ups anymore. They had to stop acting like children. Taro felt no need to use words to convey this message and there wasn’t any. The Kurosawa boys got it loud and clear. Would they act on it later? Lucien: most likely. Devonte: The shortened answer would be no.
    ‘Koji Takeuchi… he’s an… adequate shinobi. Sure as hell not one of the better ones. Devonte… he’s pretty good too, I guess. No- he’s an excellent fighter. But he’s more of a joker than a shinobi! I don’t see why the Kurosawa clan calls him their ‘failure’ though. He’s in the top twenty.’ Nyirei said to herself, assessing her new teammates. She was a bit disappointed she’d been placed with Koji. He was mediocre in her eyes, often clumsy and a bit stupid at times. He wasn’t all too confident in himself either, which made him seem shy and caused him to stutter a lot when he got nervous, which was almost all the time. To top it all off… ‘I suppose he was simply stronger than her after all.’ She sighed in her head.
    Taro-sensei listed off the rest of the squads. Seth was on Squad Eleven along with Ai’s friend and Kaede. In all, there were twenty-one squads. Sixty-two graduates and one genin who had lost the other two members of his previous squad in combat some time ago.
    Once all the squads had been named, Taro-sensei concluded with, “Do your village proud. Show your enemies no mercy. Prove to me that you are fit to bear the symbol of the Village Hidden in the Mist and you just might survive.”
    “Hai!” They all answered back; which meant ‘yes,’ ‘right’ or ‘yes sir’.
    “Your squad leaders will be here shortly.” With that, he left his former students. He slid the wooden door open and silently shut it behind him without so much as glancing back. Not that it really would have done much good even if he had!
    Over the next half hour, the jounin leaders entered the room, called out their squad number and led their genin charges out for… well, nobody was really sure what they’d be doing. By this point, there were only two squads still waiting; Squad Seventeen and Squad Three. Seth had his chin rested in the palm of his hand with his elbow resting on the desk and wearing a bored expression. Devonte had the same face with a bit more of a pout, his legs were crossed with his feet on the desk and his hands folded behind his head as he leaned back in his seat. Even calm, collected Nyirei was starting to look a little agitated from being made to wait so long.
    Seth let out a loud sigh and swung his eyes over to his cousin. “So Dev, where’d you get the axe?” he asked lazily, flicking his eyes over to the giant axe that rested against the desk next to Devonte. He hadn’t been paying attention when Dev had been telling Lucien about it earlier, but that was fine with Devonte. His bored expression instantly snapped to a grin of pride as he lifted the thing that was easily bigger than he was with one hand.
    Nyirei, who’d looked over when Seth sighed loud enough to be heard down the hallways, watched them for lack of anything better to do. ‘What a show off.’ She thought as she rolled her eyes.
    “Woah! How can you lift that thing?” Seth exclaimed in awe. Just the reaction Dev was looking for!
    “What, this? Ahh, it’s not so hard.” Devonte answered, acting as if it was no big deal, when in reality, he had to train relentlessly the past week just to be able to wield it at the level he was at now.
    ‘Bullshit.’ Nyirei commented to herself, seeing right through his ruse. Devonte was pretty skilled with his new axe, but not nearly as much as he’d like to brag about. Did that stop him from embellishing the truth? No. He just went on and on about how strong he’d gotten, how his parents ‘gifted’ it to him as a present for becoming so strong when he really just begged them incessantly for it until they finally gave in. Bored with his babble, Nyirei turned her attention back to the hazy image of their homeland.
    Koji was looking nervous. So nervous, one might think he was expecting someone to bash his head in any moment. He half was. Devonte, still going on his tangent, was sitting right behind Koji and noticed his teammate’s anxiety, where he saw much opportunity! He let out a casual sigh and said to his cousin, “So Seth, what do you say we make a little bet?”
    “Huh?” Seth responded, confused. He’d never known Dev to care for gambling, bets of any kind or anything that didn’t have to do with himself for that matter, and had no idea where he was going with this.
    “How long do you think it’ll take Nyirei-chan to do Koji in?” he said, putting extra emphasis on the last few words to make sure Koji heard him. Sadly, he did. Koji flinched at that and paled. People were already making bets on when he’d die? He knew it. He was done for! It didn’t take a moment longer for Seth to catch on. A wide grin spread across his face and he eagerly jumped in.
    “Hmmm… I’d give it a month.” Seth said with sly smile. Koji’s face dropped and, if possible, he paled to an even more ghastly white than he already had been.
    “Hah! I give her two weeks tops!” Dev laughed. Koji knew he must have been sweating profusely. Their ‘conversation’ was making his blood run cold, pushed him to the point where he almost cried and put big smiles on the Kurosawa boys’ faces.
    The door slid open for the umpteenth time and in stepped a woman who appeared in her late thirties. “Squad Seventeen.” She called out with a blunt tone. The genin of Squad Seventeen stood and walked to the door to present themselves to their sensei. As he left, Seth gave Dev a quick wave and said,
    “See you at home.”
    “Later man!” he called back, still talking louder than needed. Just before the four left, the woman turned to the remaining genin.
    “Squad Three?” she asked. Nyirei nodded. The other two just looked up to indicate they were included. Koji still looked like there were a thousand paper bombs stuck to his chest about to go off at any minute. “Your sensei wanted me to tell you he’s decided to meet at the east side of the training pond. You should get going.” They nodded and rose as Squad Seventeen took their leave.
    In silence, Squad Three proceeded out of the academy and through the village, heading for Mist’s training pond. There were several ponds in Mist. Some were koi ponds, beautifully decorated and calm, quiet places to meditate or simply relax. The training pond was no place for relaxing. It was there for exactly what it’s name stated: training, be it on one’s own or with guidance from a parent or sensei. For the ninja, it could also serve as a meeting place. As the three genin strolled through the village at a relatively quick pace, they remained in a very specific formation. Dev in the middle and Koji and Nyirei on opposite sides, nowhere near each other!
    Though Nyirei had been trying to hide it, she was inwardly seething with frustration. Koji, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide his anxiety and occasionally peeked around Dev to see if she was glaring at him or if she looked any more or less disgruntled since he last checked all of ten seconds ago. She caught him every time and flicked her eyes to meet his, making him immediately look away. At first she remained stoic each time, but gradually her aggravation grew and grew and began to show itself in her eyes, causing Koji’s fear to rise in accordance to her frustration. Devonte simply eyed the two of them, smiling in amusement. This was going to be a blast for him!
    They had to pass through a forest to get to the pond, for it was surrounded by trees that extended to the edge of the inhabited section of Mist to the Western wall that surrounded the whole of the village. The pond itself was more like a lake, vast and reaching nearly as far as the eye could see before it hit the distant, hazy wall of trees on the opposite side. There were some swampy areas at the edge and there was a good sized clearing with a simple grassy field, several meters wide between the water and the trees. Flat, circular rocks dotted the surface where they came up mere inches above the water, most spread out wide apart from each other. On this particular day, the mist was so thick that one could not even see to the pond’s center, let alone the other side. The only features visible were a handful of the flat rocks, but only to a certain distance and just barely. However, there was one thing that cool, foggy morning at the training pond that was clear as the blue sky on the open sea. The sound of a guitar.