Evening had settled over the Uchiha compound, painting the sky in streaks of vermilion and gold — the kind of view poets would weep over.
Kazuki, however, was not feeling poetic.
His hair was still damp, his neck towel clung to his skin, and his body felt like it had been boiled in miso soup and left to simmer for three hours.This was not training. This was culinary preparation.
The group shuffled back through the main street like a warband that had lost… and then been marinated.Some trudged along with thousand-yard stares. Others limped dramatically. One kid claimed, in a weak voice, that he could "see the Pure Land" if he squinted.
Azula walked beside Kazuki, her posture bent like she had aged seventy years in an afternoon."I think my spine is… zigzagged now," she said gravely.Kazuki snorted. "Good. You'll be the first ninja to dodge attacks just by standing still."
From up ahead, Obito — still walking with that infuriating cheerful bounce — waved back at them."Come on, slowpokes! My grandma's already making dinner!" he called.Kazuki muttered, "Yeah, yeah… go enjoy your cushy non-orphan life, Obito.""Hey, don't be jealous," Obito grinned, jogging backward so he could keep talking. "Besides, you looked like a dying fish in that bath."
Azula's eyes widened. "Excuse me?! If anyone looked like a dying fish, it was Kazuki."Kazuki pointed a finger at her. "Says the girl who yelled, and I quote, 'If I die, Kazuki, you can have my candy stash.'""That was strategic inheritance planning!" she shot back.
They glared at each other in mock challenge until Obito turned down a side street toward his grandmother's house."See you tomorrow, boiled lobsters!"
By the time the orphans reached the gates, the sun had sunk lower, and warm lantern light bathed the wooden buildings in a comforting glow.The faint scent of roasted chestnuts drifted from a vendor cart down the street, making Kazuki's stomach rumble despite the soreness in every limb.
The orphanage's sliding door opened with a soft hiss.Standing there was Kuroha, their beautiful and ever-watchful director.
She was dressed in a deep navy yukata patterned with delicate fan motifs. Her hair, a silken black, was tied into a low twist, and her dark eyes softened the moment they landed on her weary flock."Welcome home, everyone," she said warmly.
The youngest children stumbled inside, collapsing onto floor cushions like returning soldiers.Azula flopped beside a low table and groaned, "Director… I saw death. It had bubbles."
Kuroha stepped back and addressed the group."First, congratulations to all of you for completing your first shinobi training day. It sounds like it was… eventful."That earned a few groans and sarcastic snorts.
She scanned their faces. Slumped shoulders. Heavy steps. Avoided gazes. They weren't just tired — they were deflated.If I let them stew in this mood, tomorrow will be even worse, she thought.
So, she smiled — that slow, plotting smile Kazuki had learned to fear.
"Kazuki-kun," she began sweetly, "I heard you awakened your chakra today."He rubbed the back of his head. "I… guess?""Tell me," she said, tilting her head, "was the heat in that bath worse than the time you… accidentally stared at that Chūnin's chest?"
Kazuki choked. "You—!"Azula's head popped up. "Wait, WHAT?!"
Kuroha continued mercilessly, "Or hotter than the burning passion in that little love poem you wrote?"The room went still. Several kids suddenly looked very interested."It wasn't—! That poem wasn't about you!" Kazuki protested, ears crimson."Mmh. Of course it wasn't," she said with a knowing smile. "Just like you 'weren't staring.'"
Then she leaned closer, voice just low enough for him — but still loud enough for half the room to hear if they tried."You know, my Chūnin friend — the busty one — was asking about you the other day. Should I arrange a date? Or will you be too busy trying not to look?"
Kazuki opened his mouth — nothing came out. Just a strangled noise.Azula fell over laughing. "YES. Arrange it. I'll bring a camera."
Around them, the mood in the room had shifted. The earlier gloom was gone, replaced by snickers and wide grins. Even the kids who had failed today were now looking at Kazuki with amused curiosity instead of sulking. Kuroha noted it, satisfied. Good. Mission accomplished.
She returned to her gentle-but-strict expression."Awakening your chakra on your first try is rare. You should be proud," she said.
Some of the other orphans glanced at him — no jealousy, just awe.Kazuki muttered, "It's not a big deal…"Inside, though: It's totally a big deal. I'm awesome. And also possibly a soup ingredient.
Kuroha crouched to comfort a small girl who looked on the verge of tears."No one is behind. No one is less. You're all growing. And tomorrow brings another round of training… another banquet…" She paused, lips curling mischievously. "…and yes, another chakra bath."
A loud, collective groan filled the room.Azula buried her face in her hands. "Do they boil ramen with those same herbs?"Kazuki leaned over. "If they do, I'm not eating it."
Kuroha laughed softly. "Now — baths, clean pajamas, and warm milk before bed. You've all earned it."
Kazuki's POV
Kazuki lay in his futon, staring at the wooden ceiling as the muffled laughter of the younger kids faded into soft snores. His muscles still ached from the "boil-your-own-orphan" bath training, but his mind was too busy plotting revenge.
Oh, Kuroha thought she was clever — ambushing him in front of everyone, bringing up the chuunin's chest, and that cursed poem. The kids' snickers had echoed in his ears all night.
Fine. She wanted to play? He'd play. And he'd win.A slow, devious grin crept over his face. He didn't know how yet, but one day, he'd flip the tables on her. And when he did, she'd be the one blushing.
His grin softened as another thought hit him — something quieter, stranger.In his previous life, there was no way he could have joked like that to a woman. No way he'd call a lady's bust "a distraction" without dying of embarrassment. Back then, he'd been careful. Too careful. Always second-guessing, always afraid of saying the wrong thing.
Now? He was… bolder. More playful. The words slipped out before he could think, and instead of shame, he felt a thrill. Was it the infamous "Uchiha confidence" people joked about? Or was it just him finally loosening up, letting himself enjoy the game?
Maybe both.
He'd already died once — that alone changed how you saw things. This life was nothing but overtime, a bonus round. And if it's overtime… why not play it to the fullest?
Save the clan. Charm the beauties. Savor every stolen moment before the final whistle blows.
His eyes drifted shut with that thought. Revenge could wait until morning.
Kuroha's POV
At her desk, the lamplight danced across the neat rows of papers as Kuroha wrote tomorrow's training schedule. Her hand slowed, pen hovering above the page.
Her mind wandered to Kazuki.
The poem incident still made her chuckle. In calligraphy class, he'd written something so ridiculously dramatic it had to be a love confession… only for her to realize it didn't even rhyme. Not even a little. The look on his face when she teased him about it was priceless — that perfect mix of indignation and panic, as if the brush had committed treason against him.
And then, busty chuunin incident.
Oh, she'd intended to tease him just enough to snap the kids out of their post-training slump. But his shamelessly blunt reply had thrown her for a moment before she recovered and pressed harder.
The result? The children had forgotten their own failures, the mood had lifted… and she had gotten to watch Kazuki's ears turn crimson while he sputtered.
She should stop. It was unprofessional.But…
A slow smile tugged at her lips.
She was starting to enjoy this little game. Watching him try to glare at her while fighting a smile of his own was… entertaining. And maybe, in some way, it was good for him. He was sharp, proud, and far too self-contained for someone his age — but when she poked at him just right, he lit up in a way she didn't see often.
Trouble, that boy. Definitely trouble.But perhaps exactly the kind of trouble this orphanage needed.
With a quiet hum, she set her pen down. Tomorrow, she'd find another way to get under his skin. All in the name of morale, of course.
…Mostly.