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Inside a small 3-by-3 room lay a child of one and a half years old, with disheveled hair and sleepy eyes. Number 77 got out of his bed.
He stood in front of the mirror and practiced smiling. After all, for a shinobi it was very important to control one's micro-expressions, and he had learned that he was apparently very cute—or so Kimi had told him.
He decided to weaponize that cuteness so he could get away with things, such as stealing Number 72's meat portions. After all, it wasn't trading if he stole it, so he wouldn't be breaking any rules.
After getting ready, he opened the door with the number 77 engraved on it, and he saw a door directly opposite his with the number 27.
The rooms on the left side of the hall were numbered from 1 to 50, and the rooms on the right side were numbered from 51 to 101.
For some reason, whenever he thought about number 101, the strange feeling at the back of his head produced an image of 101 white dogs with black spots.
That was strange, since the only dogs he had ever seen were the "monsters" released during training.
His day usually started with greeting the rest of the Numbers. His favorite Numbers were 1, 56, and 72.
Number 1 was the oldest, so he took it upon himself to take care of them all—a fact 77 especially appreciated when he needed someone to sacrifice while running from the "monsters."
He liked 56 because he was very naïve, and 77 could use him to ask questions. For example, he learned that the tall "kids" were called "grown-ups," which was pretty self-explanatory.
And finally, Number 72—he liked her because whenever he asked for her food portion, she would always give him some.
He disliked Number 7, because they had gotten into a fight over their shared number. Obviously, 77 knew his number was better; after all, he had two sevens while Number 7 only had one.
Training always started the same way: first drinking the "medicine" provided by the medic-nin, and then running from the dogs released immediately afterward.
Number 77 hated this. After drinking the medicine, his whole body felt itchy and numb. He sweated, his vision spun, and everything became hazy.
At first it wasn't too bad—after all, all they had to do was run. But after his little "heist," Instructor Renji came up with the brilliant idea of making them steal each other's forehead protectors while running from the dogs.
Half the kids wore forehead protectors. The other half had to chase them. It might have been fun if not for the medicine… and the dogs.
Of course, Number 77 wouldn't be 77 if he didn't try to find loopholes. One was easy: it was never stated that they had to physically have the forehead protector on them or wear it visibly.
Naturally, he was eventually caught, and a new rule was created to forbid exactly that. He then tried bringing Kimi's forehead protector so he wouldn't need to find one himself, but he was caught on his second attempt. After that he tried making deals with the kids beforehand, but another rule was added: no teaming before or during training.
The reason he worked so hard not to lose was because of the weekends. Anyone who didn't have a forehead protector at the end of training had to train during the weekend.
He was jealous when he learned that grown-ups apparently had two free days instead of one. When he tried what the feeling in his head called "protesting," he failed to rally the kids because they thought one day was enough and believed it went against the teachings to disrespect elders.
He was considered weird for even thinking such a thing.
"Kazekage-sama, I have brought the report," said a shinobi wearing the standard Suna attire: a black uniform beneath a brown flak jacket, with a head-wrap on his head.
"How are the Numbers progressing?" asked the man wearing a green Kage hat.
"They have adapted to the most common poisons, and some have even developed resistance to certain Genin-level poisons," replied the shinobi.
"Hm." The Kazekage nodded.
"However, there has been some development."
"Yes?" the Kazekage asked.
"Number 77 has shown signs of rebellion, but he makes up for it in talent. He absorbs information at an incredible rate, and his creativity is impressive."
"During lunch, while waiting in line, he instigated two kids ahead of him to fight so that he could move up."
"Also, after failing to rally the Numbers, he tried convincing them of the benefits of having an extra day and succeeded—showing potential leadership qualities."
"Very well. Give them that extra day, but increase the training difficulty by three times," said the Kazekage with a smirk. "And start the second phase."
"Understood." The shinobi bowed and exited the building.
Number 77 POV:
Since last month—my second birthday—I've been having very strange visions. They happen every Saturday night, and they're never connected to each other.
They're like moving pictures. For example, yesterday I had a vision of a cat and a mouse. A blue cat chased a brown mouse, but the mouse always escaped and caused trouble for the cat. I couldn't understand everything because the vision was fragmented, but it's clearer than when they first started, so I can deduce they will improve with time.
I even learned the cat's name—apparently it was Tom.
But that only confused me more. Even the cat had a name, while I did not. Still, even though Tom wasn't a shinobi, he was very strong… so maybe I just need to become strong enough to deserve a name.
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