It took the better part of an hour for Nanami to be sufficiently satisfied with Yohei's treatment to let him rest while she made breakfast. After they ate, she headed to the Hospital – still early for her shift thanks to the ungodly hour she had been woken up – while he took a bath and made his way along the uncannily familiar route toward the Ninja Academy, where graduating students were expected to complete the bureaucratic steps to become officially registered ninja.
When he arrived at the multi-storied, red-gated building, a few members of the Academy staff – retired shinobi or those who had stepped away from the front lines for one reason or another – guided him to the administrative wing on the third floor. From there he was directed down a corridor and up a narrow staircase into the Academy's uppermost level, where the photographer had set up a temporary studio for prospective genin.
Only one other student was waiting: Nakamura Tobio. They exchanged a nod, after which Yohei sat down, doing his best not to pass out as the consequences of his sleepless night finally began to drag him down like a weighted blanket soaked in sweet, sweet anesthesia.
It didn't take long for him to reach the point where his head kept falling forward uncontrollably, eyes blinking at different speeds while massive yawns escaped him in slow, helpless waves.
In the end, it was the smell of flowers that pulled him from the warm embrace of Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto-sama and shoved him back into the waking world.
Blinking blearily, he gathered his wits just enough to see another classmate stepping into the corridor.
Long blond hair tied into a high ponytail that swayed with every confident stride; a sleeveless, high-collared violet top paired with a matching split skirt and a hitai-ate tied stylishly around her waist; and underneath it all, pale wrappings running from her legs up past her midsection – possibly further.
"How much time did you even spend putting on that bandage underwear?" Yohei muttered groggily, too exhausted to notice the words escaping his mouth until they had already betrayed him.
Yamanaka Ino blinked, mildly surprised he'd spoken to her at all – then, a moment later, the meaning registered. Against the rising horror twisting inside Yohei's chest, she straightened proudly, tilting her chin up with a smug smile as she struck a pose and flicked aside the long bang framing her right eye.
"I'm looking amazing, aren't I?" she stated rather than asked.
Yohei looked to the side at his fellow genin, but Tobio was staring firmly away, gaze locked onto a particularly uninteresting step on the stairs as if attempting to detach himself entirely from the conversation.
Seeing that no help was coming, Yohei let out an inaudible sigh and looked back at the 'troublesome blonde' in front of him, still frozen in her pose and glaring at him through narrowed eyes while her expression remained otherwise calm and smug.
"I guess? Looks very… charming," he tried.
Ino seemed to find that barely acceptable; she gave a huff and an exaggerated eye-roll that clearly said 'Of course I'm charming', before strutting over to sit in one of the chairs opposite his.
Yohei could have taken that and escaped the conversation scot-free-
Unfortunately, his mind was muddled from lack of sleep… and possibly from the influence of those other memories, the ones that made him weirdly excited to talk to a "member of the cast," even though his local memories couldn't see Ino as anything more than the loud, friendly, and occasionally annoying girl he'd been classmates with for half his life.
Which is why he opened his mouth again.
"Doesn't look very practical though. I mean, you're not even wearing mesh, so this is about as protective as normal clothing. You even took your hitai-ate off your head, so that's another layer of protection gone. Also – what happens if someone slices the wrappings? Or if they get caught on something? Wouldn't you get, you know… kind of naked then?"
One could have heard a cat's whisker drop in the silence that followed.
Yohei blinked, looking at Ino's face – frozen in an expression of barely contained rage. Her mouth forced into a sharp, scowling smile; her eyes squeezed shut; her left eyebrow twitching in a distinctly unhealthy way.
'She really needs relaxation lessons from Shikamaru,' Yohei mused, before the creaking wood beneath Ino's grip dragged him back to the present.
He tilted his head in confusion.
A moment later, Ino shot up from her chair so fast it scraped across the floor, and marched straight toward him – leaning down into his space, one hand planted on her hip and the other stabbing a finger into his chest.
"Okay, first of all," she said, voice tight and full of promises of violence, "these aren't bandages. They're compression wraps. They keep me warm, prevent strain, and they don't snag unless someone is stupid enough to try grabbing my clothes when I'm in throat-slicing distance."
She straightened, flicking a strand of hair behind her shoulder.
"And second, you think this isn't practical? This-" she gestured to the high-slit skirt and fitted top "-lets me move. Fast. I'm not a brute like you; I use precision and speed. Ever heard of it? The hitai-ate goes on the waist because I don't need it on my forehead. I'm not planning on headbutting anyone, and down here it doesn't get in the way. And it still shows I'm a Leaf shinobi, which is the whole point."
She put a hand to her chest and leaned forward again, this time more smug than angry.
"Also, I'll have you know that a shinobi who looks good stands out. People remember us. Clients especially. We're about to take pictures that go in the mission registry. When someone scrolls through looking for the right ninja, they'll see this-" she struck a quick pose, hip out, ponytail swishing, "-and they'll know exactly who to pick for anything that requires skill, confidence, and someone who doesn't look like they just crawled out of bed."
Her gaze swept over him pointedly.
"Which is more than I can say for you right now."
She folded her arms, chin lifting.
"It's your problem if you want your picture to scream 'unprofessional' and 'sleep-deprived', but maybe don't insult the one person in the room who actually prepared for this."
Then, almost as an afterthought:
"And 'charming' is the bare minimum. Next time try 'gorgeous' or 'striking'. Something accurate."
Muddled as Yohei's mind was, he still had enough sense to listen when there was an angry woman talking in his face – and following said talking was a hard-earned skill after years of training from his mother. Unfortunately, listening meant he now had even more questions.
For example:
If the compression wraps were meant to keep her warm and prevent strain, why were they only on her midriff and thighs instead of her whole body? What did a slitted skirt and sleeveless top have to do with mobility? Wouldn't pants and an elastic shirt be just as good? Ninja mesh barely impacted movement anyway. Also, what kind of missions required someone who "looked pretty"? Infiltration? Seduction? Wasn't she a bit young for those? And weren't seduction missions limited to Chūnin and above?
He opened his mouth to ask her all of that and more, but movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to see Tobio staring at him, eyes wide, mouthing no repeatedly while shaking his head.
Yohei decided to heed his advice, so he turned his attention back to the blonde in front of him – who had watched the whole exchange with thinly veiled amusement, arms crossed over her chest while her greenish-blue eyes glared down at him.
He scratched the back of his head with a frown, sighing before lifting his hands and forming a series of seals:
Dog → Boar → Ram.
With a puff, white smoke burst around him. As it dissolved, Ino blinked at the sight revealed.
Gone were his baggy shorts and simple black shirt. Instead, Yohei now stood clad in an armor of layered blue plates covering his chest and hips, each piece tied together by dark cords. A mantle of white fur circled his shoulders beneath broad, curved pauldrons protecting his upper arms. He wore a black undershirt and matching pants, with cloth wrappings binding his forearms and shins before disappearing into open-toed sandals.
His hitai-ate had reshaped itself from cloth and metal into a hapuri – a metal faceguard covering his forehead and cheeks, the symbol of Konohagakure proudly engraved in its center.
More than that, his complexion shifted from a slight pallor to a healthy olive. The dark bags beneath his eyes vanished. His messy hair settled into glossy curls of rich brown, and even his sea-blue eyes seemed to glow – an effect somewhat at odds with his still-sleepy expression.
"I mean, if it's just for appearances, then we can just use the Transformation Jutsu, right?" he said.
Ino's reluctantly appreciative look snapped back into a squint-eyed glare as she drew in breath to launch another rant – but before she could, the door at the top of the stairs creaked open, and the voice of an older man rang out:
"Next!"
Tobio shot up from his chair immediately, stealing the momentum from her tirade.
"Thanks for the idea, Yohei!" he shouted as he hurried up the steps.
"What– Hey!" came another familiar voice from above, indignant.
"Sorry!"
The door slammed shut. Ino hastily straightened herself and leaned back against the wall in a carefully arranged pose of casual indifference. Yohei stared at her in confusion, and the glare she sent him felt like senbon pricking against his skin.
Down the stairs came Haruno Sakura, dressed in a red cheongsam – with a zipper? Why? – dark green shorts with a pouch strapped to her thigh, and blue open-toed sandals. Yohei wondered if he was the only one who thought the flapping skirt-like panel of her dress looked like a hazard waiting to happen.
She had barely reached the last step, frowning back toward the staircase where Tobio had likely collided with her, a sheet of paper bearing her picture held carefully in her hands – when Ino let out a sharp, haughty snort.
"I'm surprised someone even managed to take a picture of your face without it being just your giant forehead, Billboard Brow."
Sakura's head swerved toward Ino's voice so fast Yohei worried her neck might've snapped. She glared venomously at the blonde.
"I knew I was smelling something rotten. Are you using that much perfume to hide your stink, Ino-pig?"
"I think that's just your breath, Sakura," Ino said faux-sweetly, stepping toward the pink-haired girl. "You talk so much shit that it started smelling like ass."
"I suppose an animal would know all about the smell of ass, huh?" Sakura shot back, matching her step for step. The two closed in on each other, nearly butting heads, the air between them practically crackling – metaphorically, of course.
Yohei could almost see the sparks – also metaphorically, unfortunately.
"Now, kiss," he said, squinting one eye and pushing his index fingers together like he was nudging their faces closer. His tongue peeked out the corner of his mouth in concentration.
"SHUT UP!" they both screamed at him.
He raised his hands in surrender, fighting a smile as the 'absolute cinema' meme flashed through his mind.
Sakura blinked, confused, finally taking in his appearance.
"Why are you dressed like the Second Hokage?"
Yohei looked down at his armor, then back at her, equally baffled. "Because he's the coolest?"
Sakura opened her mouth, realized she had no valid counterargument, then closed it again with a huff. With a last glare at Ino, she stepped past her and left the hallway.
"I'll never understand why you two stopped being friends over a mutual crush," Yohei said once she was gone.
Ino sniffed and sat again, crossing her legs and giving him a dismissive look.
"That's because you don't understand the heart of a woman."
'I don't see any woman here, though,' he thought – and, for once, wisely kept it to himself.
At least for that part.
"I don't think you understand the heart of a guy either," he continued. "You do know that, as things stand, Sasuke is just as likely to date Naruto as either of you, right?"
Privately, Yohei thought it was actually more likely Sasuke would date Naruto than either of them – and that if one of the boys had been a girl or even slightly more inclined toward the same gender, they'd probably have ended up together.
"You really don't know when to shut your mouth, huh?"
Yohei shrugged as a puff of white mist surrounded him, his appearance slipping back to normal. "Like you said, I'm sleep-deprived. Sorry if I'm being rude. I'm not thinking straight right now."
She eyed him suspiciously, then sighed and rolled her eyes. "At least you have enough sense to apologize."
"If it's any consolation, I think you smell rather nice."
Yohei blinked as his brain caught up with what he'd just said.
Ino gave him a flat look with one raised eyebrow – though the tips of her ears were unmistakably red.
He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.
"How about we pretend I didn't say anythi-"
"No."
"I figured," he sighed, letting his eyes slip shut again. Maybe if he took a nap, he'd wake up and this whole morning would all have been a very weird dream.
-~=~-
He woke up to the wet, dragging sensation of paint being smeared across his face.
Opening one eye, he stared dryly at the blonde boy crouched in front of him – who somehow had the gall to look surprised at being caught doodling on someone's unconscious face.
"Hello, Naruto."
Sheepishly, Naruto pulled the black marker away and took a slow step back, wearing an awkward grin.
"Hey, Yohei."
"Did you draw a dick on my cheek?"
…
"… No?"
…
"… Did you at least draw it well?"
Naruto actually paused to judge his own work – eyes squinting critically in a way that, paired with the whisker-like marks on his cheeks, made Yohei understand how some villagers could genuinely believe he was the fox in human form.
A sudden snort escaped him, and then Naruto burst into giggles, collapsing onto the floor and laughing loudly while pointing at Yohei's face.
Yohei rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile at the idiot's antics.
He couldn't help but reflect on how much this shift in behavior came from the influence of the other guy's memories on him. Before, he might've gotten mad, maybe even tried to strangle Naruto. Now he only felt a strange, amused fondness.
Having your entire perspective on someone flip overnight was… deeply unnerving.
As Naruto kept laughing, Yohei looked down – only for his gaze to catch on a detail that made him pause.
"You did it, huh?"
Naruto blinked up at him in confusion. Yohei grinned and tapped his own forehead protector.
"You became a ninja. First step toward your dream, right? Congratulations, Naruto."
Naruto's laughter died immediately. He just stared, mouth open, eyes wide, completely unable to form words.
Yohei looked around the room and noticed Ino wasn't there anymore. Which meant she'd passed before him.
"Tsk." Of course she did.
The door upstairs creaked open again and the photographer's voice called, "Next!"
Yohei pushed himself to his feet, stretching with a grunt before letting out a yawn.
"See you soon," he said over his shoulder.
Halfway up the stairs, he crossed paths with Ino. She was looking down at her photo with obvious satisfaction – until she noticed him looking. She shot him a smug grin.
He gave her a flat look. "You're such a brat."
She stuck her tongue out at him and practically skipped down the stairs.
Yohei snorted, shaking his head as he continued upward, already moving through the hand seals for the Transformation Jutsu.
-~=~-
Hours later, already back home and asleep on the couch, Yohei was woken by his mom nudging him gently.
"Abwuh?" he mumbled, blinking blearily up at her.
Nanami giggled and pinched his cheek. "Come on, Yo-kun, dinner's ready."
Yohei grunted and pushed himself upright, taking a step toward the kitchen – only to notice his mom hadn't moved. He paused, confused, and found her watching him with a bright, eager smile as she reached behind her back pocket and pulled something out.
A scroll. Yellowish brown, with green borders.
"Wha-?"
"Open it!" she insisted before he could finish.
Obediently, he undid the clasp and unfurled the scroll. His eyes went straight to the first characters written on it:
針地蔵 – Hari Jizō.
Opening it further revealed the description of the technique – a ninjutsu that grew out one's hair and hardened it into metallic needles for offense or defense.
His alternate memories immediately recalled watching Jiraiya use it more than once.
He lifted his head to look at Nanami, who was suddenly, adorably embarrassed.
"I know I said I'd start teaching you iryōjutsu, but that's still a bit far off," she said, scratching her cheek. "And I know every new genin wants to learn cool attacks. We're not a clan, so I don't have anything that matches your affinity perfectly… but there are a few Yang Release techniques that are more… public, let's say."
She cleared her throat lightly.
"I know a few Akimichi from work at the hospital, and I managed to buy this scroll from one of them. I know it's not as flashy as turning into a giant, but it's actually a really good technique!"
She looked at him anxiously, the nervousness peeking through her cheer.
"So… did you like it?"
Instead of answering, Yohei stepped forward, grabbed her, and lifted her straight into a tight spinning hug. Nanami yelped in surprise before bursting into laughter.
When he finally set her down, he told her seriously – but with a big smile: "You're the best mom in the world."
She grinned wide and immediately mussed up his hair. "That's right, and don't you forget it!"
"I won't," he promised.
Then she blinked, as if remembering something, and her smile turned mischievous. She pointed toward the table in the middle of the room.
Yohei followed her finger.
There, stacked nearly to the height of his knees, was a mountain of books – thick ones of all colors, arranged in neat, terrifying rows.
"I also separated your reading material," she said cheerfully. "I think we should start from the beginning with basic biology and chemistry before getting to the good stuff."
Yohei stared at the mountain of textbooks.
"…that's just the basic?"
"Yup!"
"…great," he said with strained enthusiasm.