the great academy trial | chapter five

an inspiration

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deep fried mint cookies

a frosty, peppermint cookie with a deep fried spin. serves to wake you up and counteract the coolness of mint.

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prep time: 20 min

cook time: 40 min

cuisine:american

My nose burned harder than my face. It had taken on a very scarlet color, which I sometimes saw whenever the nurse removed the tissue and cleaned away any dried up blood.

"It looks like it's healing quite nicely," she commented, which was a good sign. The nurse excelled more in healing broken bones or unconscious students, but she was still able to fix my broken nose and do something about the bleeding. Sadly, all she could do besides that was numb the pain I felt practically every else on my body.

I ended up okay, though! All I got was a broken nose!

I still had to get out the cushion-y bed and walk to the dojo all by myself. My uniform was blood stained and dirty. Gross and sweaty. Reeked of the smell of medicine and sterilization. It was a trial to enter the empty dojo, to carry myself to the locker room, and to put on my old clothes.

The sage dress revealed a lot more than the uniform. Faint blueish-purple splotches decorated my arms and legs like I was trying to be a cheetah for Halloween. My nose was bandaged tight with a bright white gauze, leading me to breath out my nose. A few places were swollen. Honestly, I was only able to move thanks to the cloudy, detached feeling the medicine gave me.

Mama was probably going to have a fit about this!

I carried myself out the locker room and found a shadow standing hunched over in the main room. I waddled over and before my overstretched hand could touch it, the shadow moved swiftly.

"Chouyo," it said after a gasp.

I frowned as my brain worked too hard. "Wait... Iruka-sensei?"

Iruka-sensei had crouched down and looked at me eye to eye. His eyes were as fragile as a water's surface. He held my gaze briefly before looking at my nose, at my new wounds. And he did not smile.

My head tilted to the side, as if disappointed. "Are you okay? I'm okay."

"I'm deeply sorry," he exhaled. "I thought... you could do something like this. You were so excellent against Sasuke, the little brother of Itachi. I expected... I didn't think you would be this injured."

Aw, I smiled, you believe in me!

Iruka-sensei was still a poor judge of character, but I admired his sincerity.

"It's fine," I told him, patting his shoulder. "I had fun!"

He looked dubious. There were many reasons behind his look. Mainly, he, a Chuunin, must have suspected I was on medication or something because even though I could be a bit energetic at times, it was weird of me to be energetic while this beat up. That, or he still felt guilty. Both options were equally likely.

"Iruka-sensei," I said seriously.

His dubious look faded into a purely attentive expression. "Yes?"

"My uniform is really ruined. I need to wash it for tomorrow."

The Chuuin didn't reply for a moment.

"...I think," he said, "I'll handle that for you, Chouyo."

I waddled home and got lost once. Well, I wasn't actually, but it felt like I was going the wrong way. Before I crossed the threshold, members of the Akimichi Clan were staring at me sympathetically. Before long, I heard the high-pitched of a certain woman.

"Chouyo Akimichiii!"

Probably faster than the Yellow Flash, Mama appeared before me and was tugging my face, surveying the wounds. She knew the nurse did all she could, but Mama still felt she could've done more judging by her disappointed pout.

"Oh, Chouyo..." she cooed.

"S'okay," I mumbled as she stretched out my cheeks that could rival chipmunks. "The other guy got a scratch this time. And a few bruises too."

Mama grinned. When she did, sometimes her canine teeth would be prominent, which turned what should be a happy expression into a devious one.

"My Chouyo doesn't go down without a fight," Mama agreed. But then her grin dropped. "You don't even come home with this many bandages after spars."

"Mama, they're learning just like me."

"Still... are you sure this is safe? You're amazing, mainly because you're my daughter, but, well..."

Mama looked down at the ground with puffed out cheeks for a long time.

Releasing her breath, she said, "It's great you're the first girl to do Competitive Sparring! I love your determination, but you shouldn't do something just to be the first. You always have to put your heart first. What do you love to do?"

Mama was all seriousness now. The sunset glow cradled the contour of her body, almost making her seem too dramatic, too grave. The shadows were a deep color, black and harsh. Her curves turned into sharp angles and made me hesitate to reply so easily.

What do you love to do?

It was kinda ironic. Chouji and I had to become ninja whether we loved it or not. That fate could never be avoided once we were born. But after that, we had a choice, didn't we?

Our lives are still our own, right?

Unease tugged at me, faint versus the general fog the medicine gave. Chouji and me... our lives... probably won't ever be ours. To be technical, at the end of the day my story would always be second place to Naruto's. And he, lacking a family and a history for the moment, had no one to please and no traditions to carry on his back. He was a free soul who could be his own.

He had a choice.

I would always be Chouyo Akimichi in this world. People would see the bold green markings on my face and think Akimichi. They would see my chubbiness and the crest woven into my wardrobe and think Akimichi.

"Well," I said seriously, "I don't really care what others think of me."

Mama stopped poking at my face and stared, tilted her head. She looked at my head fiercely. "Joyo? Did you hit your head too hard?"

"That was fun," I told her. "Competitive Sparring was fun! I don't really care if I'm the first girl or the first Akimichi, or the first fatty to do it. I wanna do it 'cause my heart loves it!"

Mama's eyes went wide, her confusion vanished.

"It was so much fun," I said. "So much fun. I wanna do it again and again! Really!"

Because, honestly, here I was in a world that wasn't mine, where I was apart of clan whose beliefs weren't completely mine, and, in the grand scheme of things, my new name wasn't mine.

But I had one thing that was mine.

My heart was mine. It loved, it hated, and it kept me alive. The only thing I could do was enjoy this heart keeping me alive.

I grinned at Mama who smiled back, tears in her eyes.

The very next day, I returned, still bruised, still a bit medicated, still decorated in those white stripes.

But I couldn't have felt any better.

"Chouyo Akimichi versus Haru Hyuuga!"

My opponent, though, seemed to be covered in more white than me. The uniform was without wrinkles and odd folds, so supremely white against his pale, almost gray skin. His light eyes almost merged into his eye-whites, almost glowed with the sunlight reflecting off his uniform and shining into his eyes.

He really looks blind!

Haru's hair formed a slender, black waterfall-like trail in a ponytail at the base of his skull. A neat, cleanly cut fringe hung over his forehead as if wet. His hair did not get in the way of his movements as he lowered into his ready stance and pointed an open palm to me.

"Just my luck," I said, unable to keep from smiling.

Haru's eyebrow lowered almost imperceptibly. Seemed as though I confused him!

"This is gonna be fun, that's all," I explained, which did little to erase the minute expression.

It was fun.

I got utterly demolished by the kid, but still.

I had fun.

This joy was mine. And even as I fell onto the mat unable to feel most of my body, I giggled.

Well, maybe the medicine made me do that, but I was truly happy.

Haru looked down at me. He didn't offer any help. I doubt I could stand anyways.

"You lost every match," he stated. "How can you be laughing?"

My cheeks really hurt!

"I love fighting! You're a great fighter! I envy you!" I closed my eyes as my smile got bigger. "If the Hyuuga and Akimichi teamed up, we'd be unstoppable!"

Those are the last words I remember. When I was home, I told my family how the battle went down. I enjoyed their winces and their cheering, and when they put on sympathetic faces, I said, "I'm going to train for next time. I really want to do this!"

"Are you sure?" Chouji muttered. "It seems so painful."

"Well, that's a side effect, but it's way more fun. I mean, you know how much paperwork the Hokage does? And still, he doesn't quit!"

"His situation is a little different..."

"If you really want to try again next year, you'll have to practice a lot, Joyo," Mama said. "It seems defeating your classmate Sasuke isn't enough to join Competitive Sparring."

"Definitely," I agreed, "but I think I know who can!"

"Eh? Can what?"

The Academy opened a few weeks later. All that mattered to me was recess. I sprinted across campus, searching and searching. Thankfully, I found what I was looking for before long.

I wasn't used to him wearing plain clothes. And they were really plain. The dark gray jacket and khaki shorts were a major downgrade. Interestingly enough, his silky hair was stuck in a high ponytail. Not a single strand was out of place, making him prettier than some of the other ponytailed girls I knew.

I stepped one foot inside the empty dojo before he turned.

"Rats! I was trying to be stealthy," I pouted.

Haru's expression was blank (unsurprisingly). His voice was already deep, but soft and not often used. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to fight you again," I smiled. "It was fun the last time and it'll be fun this time!"

Haru glanced at his hands. There wasn't much to see. His pale hands were gloved.

"I do not spar for fun," he said. "I spar for necessity."

The dojo was nothing like the dojo in summer. It was dark and an early autumnal chill blew through the room. The white of his eye was darker and distinguishable from his eye whites.

Not to mention Haru was here and not enjoying his break.

I wasn't that cold and I doubt Haru was either. Still, I walked and and sat cross-legged next to him, feeling the heat from his lean body. He didn't seem adverse to the breech in personal space (though I doubt he'd show it either way).

"Do you have any friends?" I said. "I have a few. Shikamaru and Ino are really awesome. Naruto is cool. Sasuke's my rival!" I chuckled saying it, immediately picturing Guy. "But my best friend ever is my brother Chouji!"

I looked at Haru's face, expecting eye contact, but finding myself dismayed by how he kept his eyes away from mine. Unable to get a direct look at his face, his moody, mysterious profile became fascinating.

"None," Haru said, so quick, so quiet.

"No friends?"

"None."

"But..." I thought about what to say. "Acquaintances?"

"None."

"Friendly strangers?"

"None."

"That's weird," I exhaled. "Why wouldn't anyone like you?"

Haru's hand twitched slightly.

"You know nothing about me," he said. "How could you do the same?"

He looked down at an angle, sliding his fringe too the side and revealing a small piece of a bright blue scar. The color was too harsh against his monochrome, too vivid in the muted room. I want to lick my thumb and rub it away.

That won't ever go away, though. 'Cause it's the Caged Bird Seal.

Haru looked at me. Because I stared at his forehead, we locked eyes. I winced.

"It is alright to laugh," he said, so light it almost couldn't be heard.

"Why would I laugh?" I blurt.

"Do you understand what that means? I am a servant to the heiress and my clan leader. This body belongs to the Hyuuga Clan, though I have a name, I do not matter."

"Yes, you do," I said. "We all do. In a way."

Haru didn't seem to be in pain. He closed his eyes and breathed steadily, more on guard for my laughter than his seal.

The kid's never lived any other way. He probably doesn't understand.

The atmosphere made me jumpy. It was too heavy. Every noise echoed, reminded me of how alone we were. If I kept thinking too much, I'll probably get really depressed!

I slapped my knees. "You know, I'm surprised you didn't get on the team!"

Haru opened his eyes and blinked. "I suppose I must train more. I have been neglectful."

"You? You didn't train? Unbelievable!"

"No, I do train, I always train. However, training is ineffective if you are not fully present."

"So you daydreamed? Well, what about? Do you like-like someone?"

Haru does not get flustered. "I don't worry about those things. They are not the most important."

"Eh? Then what—"

Haru tensed. Considering he was several years older than me, I figured he knew what was up. I focused until I heard the sounds of quick footsteps. Super rapid steps a little kid would make.

"Chouyo! It's time for class! Where are you?"

I stood. "Ino! She's amazing, coming out to find me! Then again... maybe she thinks I'm skipping."

Mizuki-sensei would not be pleased if I skipped. He'd smile while Killing Intent encroached my heart. With Iruka far away and first years having no idea what the technique was, I would be hopeless. It was scary and almost traumatizing.

"I have to go, Haru, but I'll see you later!" I waved at him. Haru didn't budge. "Um, you have to wave back! It's nice!"

"Why would you want to meet again? Are you not six? I am not your age."

I huffed. "I know you're way older. But I don't really care about age and junk. I like you, Haru, so let's meet again! And let's fight again some day too!"

Haru took way too long to reply. I had to get to class ASAP, so I throw him a quick wave and raced to find Ino. She was relieved to see I hadn't skipped nor aggravated my wounds. And she promptly dragged me to class.

I found Haru in the same spot as yesterday, though earlier. The room was still dark and lonely, but Haru wasn't idly kneeling on the ground. Haru was sweeping. He had stopped to look at me.

"Hi!" I waved furiously. "I did some punching exercises yesterday! Wanna see how gross my hands look?"

Haru didn't reply but the broom slipped from his hands and collided onto the wooden floor noisily.