The sun hung high in the sky as the black-haired boy and girl walked side by side.
No words passed between them — but not because they had fought. It was simply that the black-haired boy tended to keep quiet, his face settled into its usual brooding expression. There had been a time when he would laugh and speak his mind, at least with his own family — but that was a thing of the past. The cheerful boy he once was no longer existed.
Whenever Misato thought about it, she would find the same gloom settling over her own face.
At least he has started speaking more often than before, she thought.
She understood that as shinobi, they would need to cooperate with others. A shinobi who shut themselves away from their comrades could never truly earn their trust — and could very well become a liability. In any relationship, communication was always the key.
That was why she still made the effort to talk to her classmates from time to time, even though part of her wanted to close herself off from the world, just like her brother.
No. I can't think like that. She pushed the thought aside. As the older one, I need to be the responsible one.
She sighed inwardly.
If only Sasuke had someone he could call a friend — he might have recovered faster.
It's not as if I'm in any position to lecture him about that.
Their apartment finally came into view. It was more than enough for the two of them to live comfortably, and being situated on the civilian side of the village meant they never had to go far for groceries or supplies.
After they stepped inside, Misato reminded Sasuke to wash his hands. He gave a curt nod and disappeared down the hallway.
Once he was gone, she walked to the window and drew the curtains aside.
The light hit her immediately. She raised a hand to shield her face, squinting at the sky beyond the glass.
This summer might end up being hotter than last year.
She paused there for a moment — not really thinking, just standing. The afternoon sky stretched endlessly above Konoha, clear and bright, with only a few slow-drifting clouds breaking the blue. The warm sunlight pressed gently against her face.
She let it.
Far away, on a training ground beneath that same sky, Yoshiki was flat on his back.
"Wha—" He blinked, dazed, and forced himself upright, staring at the boy who had just punched him.
"Yoshiki, are you alright?" Makoto jogged over, concern written clearly across his face.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Yoshiki said — and then felt something drip from his nose. He wiped it with the back of his hand. Blood.
He really didn't hold back at all.
His eyes drifted to Isao, who stood a few feet away with his fist still loosely clenched.
"You should have held back a little," Isamu said, turning to his cousin with a reproachful look.
"Don't blame me — Yoshiki should have dodged it," Isao shot back. "If we keep going easy on each other, how are we supposed to improve? Do you want to keep losing to Sasuke in class?"
Yoshiki could feel the tension rising between them. He pushed himself to his feet before it could go any further.
"Guys, I'm fine. I just got distracted." He brushed the dirt from his clothes. "You two keep going — I'll rest for a bit."
He walked to a nearby tree and lowered himself into the shade, watching as Makoto and Isamu took their stances while Isao stepped aside to referee.
"I lost," he muttered under his breath. "To a kid."
He clenched his jaw. The anger came quietly at first, then all at once. It wasn't just that he had lost — it was how he had lost. He hadn't landed a single clean hit. All he had managed was to block and dodge until that one moment of distraction cost him everything.
As he watched Makoto and Isamu spar, the frustration only deepened. The way they moved — fluid, practiced, deliberate — was something he couldn't replicate, and he knew it.
Ha... He tried to laugh it off internally. To think I'd actually feel envious watching a bunch of kids. That's almost funny.
But no matter how many dry jokes he made in his own head, the frustration refused to budge.
Logically, he knew why he had lost. Isao had been training since he was small. In his past life, Yoshiki had barely scraped through a handful of childhood scuffles before growing into someone who avoided conflict entirely. Losing to someone with years of proper training behind them was inevitable — reasonable, even.
Understanding it didn't make it any easier to accept.
When he thought about graduation, he had always told himself not to expect too much. That competing with the Konoha Nine on his first attempt was simply unrealistic. That most of them came from powerful clans, that they were practically destined for greatness — and that none of that applied to him.
He had never felt angry about it before. Not like this.
But now, sitting in the shade with blood still drying on his upper lip, he found himself asking a different question.
He was a reincarnator. He was years older than Isao in everything but body. He carried knowledge that most people in this world would never come close to possessing.
And yet — was that the problem?
Had he been looking down on them this whole time? Treating his knowledge like a kind of silent superiority, a reason to feel set apart — even while telling himself he was just being realistic?
The realization landed uncomfortably.
Since when did I develop a superiority complex?
He sat with that for a moment. Then, quietly, he made up his mind.
He stood and walked back toward the others. Makoto and Isamu had just finished their round, both catching their breath.
"So what's next", Yoshiki asked as he had made up his mind to not waste this opportunity, let it be shuriken practice or whatever else he will make sure to learn as much as he can from these three to make sure that he doesn't make any mistake like these in class & in order to not have to go through such shame ever again.
As he looked at the 3 boys he saw them making awkward faces.
'Huh did I say something wrong' Yoshiki thought looking at them.
"Actually I & Isao needs to leave as my dad is going to train us today evening" Isamu said as Isao nodded as he said, " Yes, thanks to the event hosted in the hokage office he is currently in the village and haven't gone out for any mission".
"I need to leave too, my tutor will be coming in the evening", Makoto chimed in.
"Huh, so you guys are leaving?" Yoshiki asked.
"Yes, we had already made plans yesterday" Isamu said.
'Ah so these three had met up yesterday and already made plans' Yoshiki thought.
"Alright see you later Yoshiki tell your brother that we are waiting for the treat that he promised." Isao said as he and the other two boys picked up their bags and left waving him their byes.
Since when did I develop a superiority complex?
He sat with that for a moment. Then, quietly, he made up his mind.
He stood and walked back toward the others. Makoto and Isamu had just finished their round, both catching their breath.
"So what's next?" Yoshiki asked. He had made up his mind — he wasn't going to waste what was left of the afternoon. Shuriken practice, taijutsu drills, whatever they had planned, he would wring as much out of it as he could. He was done letting opportunities pass him by, done giving himself comfortable excuses. He refused to feel this kind of shame again.
He looked at the three of them expectantly.
They were making awkward faces.
...Did I say something wrong?
"Actually," Isamu began, scratching the back of his neck, "Isao and I have to head out. My dad's training us this evening." Isao nodded beside him. "He's in the village right now — some event at the Hokage's office kept him from taking any missions, so we're making use of it while we can."
"My tutor's coming over too," Makoto added.
Yoshiki blinked. "So... you're all leaving?"
"We made plans yesterday," Isamu said, with a look that was almost apologetic.
Ah. So the three of them had met up yesterday and sorted everything out between themselves. Without him.
He wasn't sure why that stung slightly, but it did.
"Alright," he said, keeping his voice even. "See you."
"Tell your brother we're still waiting on that treat he promised!" Isao called out as the three of them slung their bags over their shoulders and headed off, tossing lazy waves over their heads as they went.
Yoshiki raised a hand in response.
Then they were gone, and he was alone on the training ground.