Chapter Text
“To reach the point of zen where breathing is no longer necessary. This is truly the goal of all exceptional ninjas. Certainly a skill that will be necessary for myself in many situations involving infiltration. After all, a ninja who cannot keep himself hidden well is hardly one worthy of calling himself a ninja at all.
Despite my practice, my breathing seems to remain heavy?”
The first year tried not to fidget in his chair, but with every passing moment, he began to feel more and more uncomfortable.
It must have been due to the poor structural integrity of the desk. No ninja could work efficiently in such conditions.
But really, it wasn’t that which was leaving him in such a state of discomfort. It was his choice of sitting, or, rather, the place he was forced to sit.
Normally, Shinobu would arrive early into his classroom of 1-B, sneaking his way to the desk comfortably placed in the deepest corner of the classroom. It was always an agreeable distance away from any others, its position leaving it cloaked in dark shadows – two things in his favor. However, a frog companion of his had snuck away unbeknownst to him in the early morning, leaving the young ninja to track him down. This took longer than anticipated, resulting in him arriving at his classroom much later than was normal.
As a direct result, one of his classmates seemed to have already claimed the perfectly-placed desk as their own by the time he'd entered through the doorway. This was either someone who wasn’t aware of that seat belonging to Shinobu, or one who wished to directly antagonize him (which would fit what he knew of his pink-haired classmate).
Either way, this left the ninja displaced, which in any case was a position most distasteful for one whose biggest fear is vulnerability.
Not wanting to attract any more attention, Shinobu quickly retreated to a random seat, one that ended up being the middle desk in the middle row. As he sat down in that chair, he could feel the classroom's light exposing him, and he could hear the laugh of god, amused by his pathetic state.
And thus we have made it to the present.
“Any skilled in the art would be able to keep himself calm and collected even when at his most vulnerable. If anything, this experience will serve just as a reminder to keep up my training!”
He made an attempt at consoling himself, using meaningless thoughts to drown out the anxiety that was relentlessly pouring in.
“I may not be the best at human interaction, but being in this position does not mean I will be forced to endure any. I must power through!”
Though as fate may have it, it wasn’t much longer until he could hear the creaking of a chair from at his side.
He dared not look, even when the individual sitting next to him spoke: “Hey, uhm. You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”
There was no response.
“I mean, I normally sit here anyways, but since I’ve never actually seen you sit there, I thought I’d ask, ya know?”
Once again, no answer. Though it could easily be interpreted as purposefully ignorant behavior, such was not Sengoku’s intention. Instead, cogs were madly spinning in his head, desperately trying to come up with some reasonable response. The systems, not used to this amount of work, quickly short-circuited, leaving him to fend for himself with whatever words decided to come to him.
“I – I apologize for my rudeness, which I’m sure was how I looked to you, didn’t I?" He fumbled around, trying to recall what it was that his new neighbor had even asked.
"I do not mind whatsoever! I certainly would have answered you earlier, but it seems I had forgotten to speak! I ask for you to forgive this humbled ninja.” He spoke this all to the open air, afraid to turn in head, in fear of the angry expression he’d be greeted with.
Instead, all he heard were puzzled words. “Forgot to speak? I guess that would keep you from answering me.” The mystery voice said, any significant meaning difficult to interpret through Shinobu’s own panicked embarrassment.
“Well, anyways, feel free to talk to me if you need anything. That is, if you remember to, of course.”
Fingers gripping tightly to the far edge of his desk, Sengoku tried in vain to quell the redness that harshly dusted his face. Whoever this person was, they most certainly weren't someone he could ever imagine being on good terms with ever again. Lacking any social etiquette, he was aware that he was the sort of ninja to fall victim to awkward moments just like that regularly. No matter how many times it happened though, Shinobu never seemed able to get over the overwhelming shame.
Regardless of it all, he was still hit with the curiosity in finding out which of his classmates this was that he’d just plundered in front of.
Naturally, it wasn’t Tetora – his exuberant voice would be hard to miss. Other than him, however, he didn’t know many others in his classroom, even after all this time.
Figuring, by sudden insanity, that it was safe to snatch a quick look, he did exactly that. This decision elicited the exact emotion he expected it to.
“Aoi Yuuta, one of the two members of the twin-unit 2wink. I haven’t spent much time with him; this must have left an awful impression.”
Noticing that his turned glance caught the attention of the twin, Sengoku snapped his neck back, staring at the glossed-over wood of his desk.
“Hopefully he didn’t see a thing. To be caught unawares like this is only making my dignity as a ninja crumble that much more!”
But no other words were exchanged between the two first years, an unsteady silence instead replacing it.
His sharp, golden eyes honed in on the clock as they often did during the end of most classes. If it wasn’t one on Japanese History or frog biology, Shinobu was quick to turn his mind off to anything around him. Oddly enough however, it was more difficult today to do so than usual.
Though he paid close attention to the hands on the clock as they ticked and tocked repeatedly, a blur of orange and blue in his peripherals constantly distracted him.
Ever since he’d taken that first glance Yuta’s way, a subconscious part of him would be drawn back, wanting just one more look. But quick glances slowly evolved into intense examinations, and by the end of the day he hardly spent any time watching the clock at all. Instead, he was fixated by the way his orange hair curls delicately below his chin, the cool intelligence in his striking green eyes. That, and all of his subtle mannerisms, left Sengoku with a tingle in his chest and a lack of breath, all for reasons he could not comprehend.
“Surely this is simply a case of my wanting to familiarize myself with my surroundings, as all good ninjas should.”
Which Shinobu thought to himself was a perfectly viable explanation for all of this. However, when the bell chimed and students filed out into the halls, Shinobu was struck with a feeling as empty as the room surrounding him now was. It eluded him for sometime, with ideas bouncing off his mind ranging from too much exposure to strangers to the beginnings of a cold. None of these seemed to be the case, he concluded by the time he'd arrived at home. This had nothing to do with any ninja practices - what he'd encountered was something none of his lessons had prepared him for.
As anyone who has also come to this realization the first time can understand, he was left with conflicting emotions, as well as many questions he figured would never be answered.