(3rd Person - Hokage's Office)
Sarutobi Hiruzen tapped the ash from his pipe into a small ceramic dish, his eyes scanning the profiles of Team 7. He had placed his bets, as any Kage must. The true prize, of course, was Hatake Kakashi. The boy was a generational talent, a diamond in the rough whose grief had only sharpened his edges. With the right guidance, he could become a pillar of the village, a weapon surpassing even his late father. The boy's obsession with the rules and the mission was a double-edged sword, but it was a flaw that could be honed into a formidable strength. He was the asset.
The other two… they were acceptable. Expendable, if it came to it. The girl, Machi Komacine, was a foreigner with a volatile temper and a proficiency for brawling. She had spirit, but lacked discipline. Such shinobi were useful for the front lines, but rarely advanced far. Cannon fodder, if he were being brutally honest.
And the boy, Judai. An orphan with prodigious chakra but no discernible talent for controlling it. His file was a testament to mediocrity. Still, he had survived the Academy, and in times of war, even a dull kunai could serve a purpose. Placing them with Kakashi was a calculated risk. Perhaps the boy's sheer ordinariness would ground the prodigy. Or perhaps they would simply be the first names Kakashi would have to carve onto the Memorial Stone.
Sarutobi sighed, a small puff of smoke escaping his lips. War demanded sacrifices. He only hoped these would be worthwhile.
(1st Person - Judai's POV)
The rooftop was just as I remembered it from a lifetime ago. The wind whipped around us, carrying the distant sounds of the village. The iconic red-and-white smokestacks stood tall against the blue sky, and the Hokage monument stared back at us, its stone faces impassive.
Machi was already leaning against the railing, tapping her foot impatiently. "Where the hell is this jonin-sensei? Are all elites this unprofessional?" she grumbled.
Kakashi stood a few feet away, silent and still as a statue. He stared out at the village, but his eyes weren't really seeing it. I knew that look. It was the look of a kid drowning in the shadow of a ghost. His father, the White Fang, had chosen to save his comrades over the mission, and the village had ostracized him for it, driving him to suicide. Kakashi had sworn to never make the same "mistake." For him, the mission was everything. Teammates were just tools to complete it.
I knew exactly what test was coming. The bell test. A test about teamwork. And with Kakashi's rigid ideology and Machi's explosive temper, there was a zero-percent chance we were going to pass. It was a statistical impossibility.
Fine by me. I already had a plan for that.
A sudden flicker of movement, a whisper of displaced air, and a man was standing before us. He appeared without a sound, his presence as natural as the wind itself. He had bright, sun-blond hair that defied gravity, impossibly blue eyes, and a warm, disarming smile. He wore the standard Konoha flak jacket, but on him, it looked less like a uniform and more like a statement.
Namikaze Minato. The Yellow Flash. The future Fourth Hokage. Our sensei.
And the man who, in another timeline, was supposed to be my Jonin sensei. It was weird seeing him again, standing here, so full of life. I pushed the thought away and focused, studying him. My eyes weren't a dojutsu, but after one lifetime of experience, I knew how to look. His posture was relaxed but perfectly balanced. His smile was genuine, but his eyes were constantly scanning, assessing. And for a split second, his gaze lingered on Kakashi, a flicker of something—pity? concern? calculation?—before it swept over Machi and me. He was here for the prodigy. We were just the attachments.
"Glad you could all make it!" he said, his voice cheerful and light. "Why don't we start with some introductions, so we can get to know each other?"
He leaned against the railing. "I'll go first. My name is Namikaze Minato. I like training, creating new jutsu, and my wife's cooking. I dislike waiting for ramen to cook. My goal… is to protect this village and the people I love."
He smiled at us. "Alright, you next, with the… vibrant hair."
Machi bristled slightly at the comment but stood up straight. "I'm Machi Komacine. I like sweets, playing my shamisen, and punching this idiot." She jabbed a thumb in my direction. "I dislike people who judge you before they even know you. My goal is to become a shinobi strong enough that my family doesn't have to worry about being treated like outsiders anymore."
Minato nodded, his smile softening. "A noble goal. Okay, how about you?" He looked at Kakashi.
Kakashi didn't move. "Hatake Kakashi," he stated, his voice flat. "I have no likes or dislikes. My goal is to complete my missions."
Cold, professional, and to the point. Exactly what I expected. The guy was a walking, talking rulebook.
"Alright…" Minato said, looking a little taken aback before turning to me. "And you?"
I put on my most winning smile. "I'm Judai! I like sleeping, telling jokes, and a good plate of dango. I dislike bullies. And my dream for the future…" I paused for dramatic effect, puffing out my chest. "Is to have every kunoichi, chunin and above, wear yoga pants as their official uniform!"
Silence.
Minato's friendly smile froze, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated confusion. Kakashi tilted his head, his visible eye blinking slowly as if trying to process a foreign language. He probably just assumed it was some new perverted slang.
Then, I felt a wave of killing intent to my left.
WHAM!
Machi's fist connected with the side of my head, sending me spinning.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN, YOU PERVERTED IDIOT?!" she screamed, her face crimson.
"Ow! It was a joke!" I yelled, rubbing the rapidly forming lump on my skull.
Minato chuckled, breaking the tension. "Well, that was… unique. It's good to have lofty goals, I suppose." He cleared his throat, trying to get us back on track. "Now that introductions are over, there's something important I need to tell you. Tomorrow, we'll have our first real test. Meet me at Training Ground 7 at 11 a.m. sharp."
He held up a finger, his expression turning serious. "And one more thing. Those headbands you're wearing? They don't mean you're real genin yet. This is the final exam. If you fail, it's straight back to the Academy. Understood?"
Machi gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Even Kakashi's stoic posture stiffened. They hadn't expected that. I, of course, just looked bored. I'd seen this episode before.
With a final, warm smile, Minato disappeared in a swirl of leaves and a puff of smoke.
For a moment, nobody moved. The reality of the situation was sinking in for my two teammates.
Machi was the first to break the silence. She turned to Kakashi. "Hey, since we're a team now, me and Judai are gonna grab some food. You wanna come?"
Kakashi just glanced at her, then at me, then back at the village. "No. I need to train." And just like that, he was gone, another flicker of movement in the wind.
Machi sighed, a hint of disappointment on her face. Then she rounded on me. "Alright, dango-brain, let's go. I'm buying meat buns."
"Aww, but I want dango!" I whined, following her toward the stairs.
"You can have dango when you stop having stupid, perverted goals!" she shot back, not even looking at me. "Now shut up and walk, we're getting meat buns."