Chapter Text
'Crazy people tend to be loud, so it seems as if they’re everywhere. They easily step on other people’s lives.'
A blond head pulls back through the door, scowl stretched across whiskered cheeks. “Why are we the only cell whose teacher hasn’t shown up yet?! All the other teams have already gone off with their teachers. Even Iruka-sensei's gone!”
Moments later, a low rumble echoes throughout the room as something is dragged across the floor. Sakura feels oddly nauseous— has, since the village’s alarms were set off last night.
“This is what he gets for making us wait!”
Uchiha scoffs. “No way a jounin would get caught by such a simple trap.”
A gloved hand, undoubtedly belonging to an adult, slots through the gap in the door. As it slides open, a man ducks into the room, mask pulled over the bridge of his nose. Off-white hair—closer to silver, really—settles upon the hitai-ate that sits, slanted, across his left eye.
The eraser falls, and the man does not dodge.
After listening to Uzumaki’s arrogant crows, the apparent-jounin hums. “How shall I put this… Based on my first impression, I’d have to say… I hate you.” He claps once, eye inexplicably curved into a crescent. “Meet me on the roof in five.”
Uzumaki startles, choking on what seems to be his own spit, when the man disappears into a flurry of leaves.
Oh, Nobara thinks, blinking away rapid-fire images that flit through her mind, You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Now,” Team Seven’s jounin-sensei drawls, “I’d like you all to tell us a little about yourselves.”
Uzumaki squints. “Like what?”
“...You know,” the man says, like he doesn’t, “The usual. Your favorite thing... What you hate the most... Dreams, ambitions, hobbies. Things like that.”
“Why don’t you go first?” Uzumaki says, making a face. “Show us how it’s done.”
The man doesn’t reply, at first. “Stranger danger,” Nobara inputs dryly, if only so they can get this show on the road. The others glance her way, though only Uzumaki seems even remotely interested in her presence.
“Oh, me?” the jounin asks after a pause, purposefully obtuse. “My name is Hatake Kakashi. I don’t feel like telling you my likes or dislikes. My dreams for the future… are none of your business. But anyway, I have lots of hobbies.”
They all stare blankly at Hatake. He smiles back, pleased as can be. For a moment, his hair looks several shades lighter. His hitai-ate falls over both eyes, and his mask is nowhere to be seen.
Nobara blinks. The image disappears.
“Now it’s your turn,” Hatake says. “Starting on the right.” Uzumaki opens his mouth, only to pause when he sees Nobara do the same. “My right,” the jounin amends.
“My name is Sakura Haruno,” Nobara says, “Though I’m thinking of changing that.”
“What?” Uzumaki blurts out. “Why would you do that?”
She slowly turns her head. In the tone one might take when talking to a kindergartener, she explains, “My hair is pink, and my name is Sakura.”
“Don’t like the brand, Sakura-chan?” Hatake asks pleasantly.
There’s a lot she could say to that. Much of it, however, would likely earn her a private cell in T&I’s underground, so she holds her tongue. Or rather, she returns to their previous topic before that specific conversation can go any further.
“My likes and dislikes…” Nobara could answer easily, but no one has ever accused her of being either subtle or benevolent. “Interesting question. As far as I can tell, I dream almost every night, and I doubt that’ll stop in the future. As for my hobbies… They exist.”
Hatake stares at her. She tries for an agreeable smile, but she’s sure it comes out closer to mocking. Uzumaki snickers, and Uchiha looks slightly more constipated than usual.
“I see,” the jounin eventually says. “Next?”
“My name is Uchiha Sasuke. There are plenty of things I hate, and almost nothing I like. It seems pointless to talk about ‘dreams’— that’s just a word.” There’s a brief pause, like Uchiha is considering adding something. Eventually, he goes with, “I instead have a goal. And hobbies are irrelevant.”
Considering the dark look on his face, Nobara has an idea on what that goal might relate to. But hey, he didn’t voice anything and she’s never been a fan of clan-related nonsense, so it’s not really her job to delve into that mess.
“...And finally,” Hatake says, “The bright one.”
He’s commenting on Uzumaki’s outfit, Nobara knows, but she wouldn’t be surprised if the man’s also taking a dig at his intelligence.
“I’m Uzumaki Naruto! I like—” he cuts himself off, eyeing Nobara and Uchiha. “...Things,” he says slowly, turning back towards Hatake with a look that screams ‘innocence.’ “Other things suck, though. Everyone knows my dream, y’know.” A pause. “Hobbies are cool too, I guess.”
“...Wonderful,” Hatake says dryly. “Now that we all understand each other—” the genin manage to exchange glances at that “—Formal training begins tomorrow.”
Uzumaki jolts upwards, practically vibrating in his seat. “Yes, sir! What will our duties be?!” His next words are quieter, but still loud enough for all of them to hear without trouble. “Our first real shinobi mission!”
Hatake hums. “Our first mission involves only the members of this cell.”
“What? What is it?!”
“A survival exercise.”
Uzumaki echoes him questioningly. Nobara only raises a brow, and Uchiha… does whatever he usually does, when he’s confused about something. Which is just intense staring, really.
“It’s different than what you’ve faced in the Academy,” Hatake says, almost flippantly. “You’ll have to survive against me. It won’t be your typical kind of practice.”
“Well then,” Uzumaki asks, “What kind of practice will it be?”
The man laughs lowly, like a creep. It’s almost nostalgic, and once that thought settles, Nobara’s guard instinctively snaps into place.
“Maa, I don’t know if I should tell you… You might chicken out.” After Uzumaki’s cry of offense, he continues. “Of the twenty-seven members of your graduating class, only nine will actually be accepted as genin. The other eighteen must go back for more training. The test we're about to perform has a sixty-six percent failure rate.”
Nobara relaxes, slightly. It’s not like she hasn’t done something like this before. The boys, however, are noticeably tense. Enough so that Uzumaki spouts off something about their graduation test, as if that was anything close to a challenge.
Though, she remembers, He didn’t pass the day before. Which means that their teachers must’ve given him a second chance, or something like that. It could’ve been more difficult, or even unplanned.
Hatake rambles on for a while longer—something about hopeless candidates, breakfast, and an evaluation—before handing them each a slip of paper.
“The details of your assignment are in this handout,” Hatake explains. “Memorize it, and don’t be late.”
While Nobara is pondering the irony of the latter statement, Uzumaki shouts about throwing up. Seeing as he doesn’t exactly seem like the nervous type, she figures she’s missed something. Whoops.
Hatake disappears without answering the blond, and from beside her, she hears something crumpling. It appears that Uchiha has ruined the handout they’d been given not ten seconds ago.
This, she thinks dryly, Can only go well.