The Konoha summer settled into its rhythm, a relentless cycle of humid dawns, blazing afternoons, and evenings thick with the chirping of cicadas. For Team Twelve, now nearly two months into their official Genin careers, the rhythm was punctuated by the soul-crushing monotony of D-Rank missions.
Ryuu found himself questioning the logic of it all, again. After the high-stakes tension of his evaluation, the forced reveal of his Kekkei Genkai, and the subsequent meeting in the Hokage's office that left Kasumi marked and their future uncertain, he had expected... something different.
Intensified surveillance, perhaps. Specialized training under Genma's watchful eye. Instead, they were assigned D-Ranks. Endless, mind-numbing D-Ranks.
Weeding. So much weeding. Vast, stubborn herb gardens. Acres of overgrown training grounds where the weeds seemed to possess shinobi-level resilience. Ryuu suspected Genma specifically requested these tasks, perhaps finding some perverse amusement in watching an Uchiha with a fully matured Sharingan meticulously pluck dandelions, or seeing Ryuu, bundled against the sun even in the sweltering heat, carefully extract stubborn roots from the earth.
Then there was fence painting. Miles of identical wooden fences enclosing various village compounds. White. Always white. Under the blazing sun. Ryuu learned the particular misery of sweat dripping onto fresh paint, the frustration of trying to achieve an even coat on rough wood while wearing gloves, the sheer boredom that threatened to dull even his hyper-analytical mind.
They walked dogs for the Inuzuka clan – which invariably devolved into chaotic chases through crowded market streets when one of the larger ninken decided to pursue a stray cat or investigate an interesting smell emanating from a food stall.
They babysat unruly civilian children whose parents needed errands run, a task Ryuu found more psychologically taxing than facing Genma. They cleaned sections of the Nakano River again, hauling out more refuse and debris washed down by summer storms.
They helped elderly citizens with grocery shopping, requiring patience Ryuu didn't naturally possess as they debated the merits of different types of pickled radish for agonizingly long periods.
They sorted and filed ancient, dusty scrolls in a forgotten corner of the Konoha Archives, a task so mind-numbing that even Izumi looked close to activating her Sharingan just for something interesting to look at.
"Seriously, Sensei?" Kenta groaned one particularly stifling afternoon, collapsing onto the grass after three solid hours of weeding the Yamanaka clan's extensive flower gardens.
Sweat plastered his brown hair to his forehead, and his sturdy frame sagged with exhaustion. "Isn't there anything else? Like, chasing bandits? Or delivering a scroll? Even guarding a gate sounds more exciting than pulling up mutated daisies!"
Genma, perched comfortably in the shade of a decorative archway, casually spat a senbon he'd been chewing towards a particularly large dandelion Kenta had missed. It impaled the weed dead center. "Missed one, Miyamoto," he drawled, ignoring the complaint. "And no. Humility, patience, teamwork. These are the glamorous foundations of shinobi life. Get used to it."
Izumi sighed softly, wiping dirt from her cheek with the back of her gloved hand. "He does have a point, Kenta-kun. Even D-ranks require coordination. Remember the Inuzuka incident last week?"
Kenta flushed slightly. His attempt to restrain a large, overly friendly wolfhound had resulted in him being dragged halfway across the market square, overturning an unfortunate dango stall in the process. Ryuu had managed to intercept the dog using a quick distraction (rolling a ball he 'found' in the opposite direction) while Izumi used her speed to help the stall owner salvage his scattered wares. It had been chaos, but they had, eventually, worked together to contain it.
"Yeah, well, that dog was crazy strong," Kenta muttered defensively.
"All part of the job," Genma said cheerfully. "Now, less complaining, more weeding. Those prize-winning purple mums won't weed themselves."
Despite the tedium, Ryuu forced himself to find value in the routine. The D-Ranks, while frustrating, provided ample opportunity to observe Konoha and his teammates in low-stakes environments. He refined his sensory skills constantly, tuning out the village noise to focus on specific signatures, tracking his teammates' movements even when they were out of sight, analyzing Genma's seemingly lazy posture for subtle shifts indicating alertness.
He also found himself, surprisingly, developing a comfortable rapport with Kenta. Once past his initial nervousness around Izumi and Ryuu, proved to be straightforward, earnest, and refreshingly uncomplicated. He complained loudly about the chores but worked hard, taking pride in doing even menial tasks well. He lacked the political baggage of the clan heirs and the deep-seated paranoia Ryuu carried.
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"Man, this fence is never-ending," Kenta sighed one afternoon, dipping his brush back into the bucket of white paint. They were tackling a long stretch of fence bordering a residential street. Izumi worked with neat, efficient strokes further down, while Genma supervised from a nearby rooftop, occasionally calling down critiques.
"Pacing is key," Ryuu commented, applying paint with steady, even strokes, a technique he'd analyzed for maximum coverage with minimum effort. "Too fast and you drip. Too slow and the sun dries it unevenly."
Kenta squinted at Ryuu's section, then at his own slightly patchy work. "Huh. Guess you're right." He paused. "Hey, Ryuu, that thing you did back in the spar with Kenjiro... the ankle kick thing? Was that, like, a special technique?"
Ryuu kept painting, his expression neutral. "Just basic Taijutsu application. Exploiting balance." He offered nothing more.
Kenta seemed to accept this. "Cool. Maybe you can show me sometime? My Taijutsu... well, Tamura-sensei mostly just yelled at me for being too slow." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm better at hitting things hard than being tricky."
"Perhaps," Ryuu conceded. Sharing basic, non-secret Taijutsu principles felt safe, a way to build camaraderie. "Your strength is an asset if applied correctly."
They fell into a companionable silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic slap of brushes against wood. Ryuu found Kenta's straightforwardness oddly relaxing. There were no hidden probes, no calculating assessments, just simple conversation and shared work.
He started occasionally sharing a piece of the packed lunch Kasumi prepared for him with Kenta, or offering a quiet correction if he saw Kenta struggling with a knot during trap practice. Kenta, in return, sometimes shared stories about his family (his father was a carpenter, his mother ran a small textile shop) or explained the rules of a popular village card game Ryuu found bafflingly complex.
It wasn't deep friendship, not by Ryuu's guarded standards, but it was... comfortable.
His relationship with Izumi remained more reserved, built on mutual respect for competence. They worked well together when required.
She remained kind, polite, never treating him with the condescension some clan heirs displayed towards outsiders or younger students. But there was always a subtle distance.
Ryuu often saw her training alone in the evenings near the Uchiha district, practicing kunai throws with blinding speed or working on intricate katas. He sometimes caught glimpses of Itachi sparring with her, their movements fluid, synchronized, showcasing the Uchiha prodigy's already terrifying skill level even as he patiently guided Izumi.
Sometimes, walking back from missions or training, they would pass through the village center. Ryuu kept an eye out for the distinctive blond hair of the Hokage's son.
He saw Naruto occasionally, now six years old. The boy was a whirlwind of boisterous energy, just as Ryuu remembered from canon, often yelling his "Dattebayo!" catchphrase while roughhousing with other children in the park.
However, there was a difference. This Naruto wasn't just loud; he moved with a surprising confidence, an underlying coordination that spoke of early training. Ryuu once saw him successfully stick a leaf to his forehead for several seconds while arguing vehemently with Shikamaru Nara (who looked predictably bored by the exchange), a feat of chakra control impressive for a six-year-old.
Kushina was often nearby, looking healthier now, though still perhaps lacking her full former vitality, keeping a watchful eye, her expression a mixture of maternal pride and underlying worry. Sometimes Minato himself would appear briefly, sharing a quick word or a warm smile with his son before flashing away again, consumed by Hokage duties.
Nearby, often watching Naruto with a mixture of annoyance and intense Uchiha focus, would be Sasuke. He was quieter than Naruto, usually practicing throws with obsessive precision against a tree or simply observing, his small face set in serious lines.
The rivalry was already there, a palpable energy between the Hokage's son/Jinchuriki and the Uchiha prodigy's younger brother, though it lacked the bitter edge Ryuu knew would define it in the original timeline. Seeing them, living relatively normal childhoods (albeit shadowed by their respective burdens), was a constant reminder of how drastically things had changed, and how unpredictable the future now was.
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One late summer afternoon, after successfully retrieving another escaped pet, Team Twelve reported back to the Mission Assignment Desk, weary and smelling faintly of pig. The Chunin at the desk scanned their report, stamped it with bored efficiency, then paused, looking through his assignment scrolls.
He pulled out a different scroll, this one marked with the character for 'C'. Ryuu felt Izumi stiffen slightly beside him, Kenta leaned forward eagerly.
The Chunin glanced at Genma, who had been leaning against the wall looking thoroughly bored. "Shiranui-san, Team Twelve. Your D-rank quota is met, performance evaluations... adequate."
He smirked slightly. "Hokage's office has approved your team for C-Rank eligibility. Got one here, just came in. Escort mission. Merchant convoy heading to Tanzaku Quai. Standard protection against bandits, low-level threats. Interested?"
Genma pushed off the wall, strolling over to take the scroll, his usual laziness replaced by a flicker of professional interest.
He read it quickly, his eyes scanning the details. He looked up, meeting the eyes of his three Genin. Kenta was practically vibrating with excitement. Izumi looked focused, ready. Ryuu kept his expression neutral, not expecting much from the mission.
Genma rolled the scroll closed, tucking it into his vest. He looked at his team, a genuine, challenging smirk finally replacing his usual bored expression.
"Alright, brats," he said, the senbon twitching. "Looks like playtime's over. We just got our first C-Rank." He jerked his head towards the exit. "Pack your standard travel gear. Rendezvous at the main gate, 0600 tomorrow. Don't be late."
He turned and walked away, leaving Team Twelve standing there.
"Man, we are finally doing a C-rank mission! Guys, this is great!" Kenta shouted, unable to contain his excitement. He pumped a fist in the air, then did a little jump, nearly colliding with a passing Jonin who shot him an annoyed glare.
Kenta immediately flushed and bowed apologetically.
Izumi Uchiha let out a small, controlled breath, a genuine smile finally gracing her lips. The relief was visible in her posture; the endless D-ranks had clearly grated on her Uchiha pride, despite her outward composure.
"Yes," she agreed, her voice holding a note of satisfaction. "Escort duty. Real responsibility. It's about time."
Ryuu remained outwardly neutral, but Kenta's infectious enthusiasm and Izumi's rare display of open satisfaction were… surprisingly pleasant.
Even he couldn't deny a small flicker of anticipation. A C-rank. A mission outside the village walls. It was still likely low-threat, mostly travel and vigilance, but it represented a significant step up, a chance to see more of the world beyond Konoha, to test their skills in a less controlled environment.
"Hey!" Kenta exclaimed, turning to them, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. "We should celebrate! Our first C-Rank! Let's grab something to eat! Dango? Or maybe... yakiniku?" His eyes gleamed at the thought of grilled meat.
Izumi hesitated for a moment, glancing towards the Uchiha district, likely considering her evening training regimen. Then she seemed to make a decision. "Dango sounds good," she conceded with a small smile. "A quick celebration before preparing for tomorrow."
Kenta beamed. "Awesome! Ryuu? You in?"
Ryuu considered. He was supposed to report home to Kasumi, then begin their private training. But Kasumi had also stressed the importance of team cohesion. Celebrating a team milestone, especially their first C-Rank, felt like a justifiable deviation from routine. And honestly? After weeks of weeding and painting, the thought of sweet, chewy dango was surprisingly appealing.
"Okay," Ryuu agreed quietly. "Dango sounds good."
Kenta cheered again, leading the way towards the market district with boundless energy. Izumi fell into step beside Ryuu, the earlier awkwardness between them eased slightly by the shared anticipation.
"Tanzaku Quai," Izumi mused as they walked, her gaze thoughtful. "It's known for its... entertainment district, isn't it? And gambling houses. Not exactly a high-security destination."
"Standard merchant route, though," Ryuu offered, recalling details from scrolls he'd read in the library. "Connects several smaller towns. Likely just needs protection through the more forested areas known for bandit activity closer to the border."
"Probably," Izumi agreed. "Still, first mission outside the village... We need to be vigilant." There was a seriousness in her tone now, the responsible shinobi overriding the celebrating Genin.
"Don't worry, Izumi-san!" Kenta declared confidently from ahead. "With you and Ryuu here, and Genma-sensei, what could go wrong?"
Izumi shot Ryuu a look that clearly communicated 'famous last words', but she didn't voice it.
They reached a popular dango stall near the edge of the market, the sweet aroma thick in the air. They ordered several skewers – classic mitarashi with sweet soy glaze, anko red bean paste, and colourful hanami dango.
Finding a relatively quiet bench nearby, they sat down to eat.
For a short while, they were just three Genin enjoying a treat after a long day. Kenta devoured his dango with gusto, getting sticky glaze on his cheek. Izumi ate hers with neat, precise bites, though her eyes held a hint of relaxed enjoyment. Ryuu savored the simple sweetness, a welcome contrast to their usual bland rations or foraged meals.
They talked easily, mostly Kenta recounting exaggerated stories of their D-rank mishaps, Izumi occasionally correcting him with dry accuracy, Ryuu offering quiet, sometimes unintentionally funny observations.
They discussed their hopes for the C-rank mission – seeing new places, testing their skills against real threats, gathering practical field experience.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, Izumi stood up gracefully. "I should head back," she said. "Training doesn't stop just because we have a mission tomorrow."
"Yeah, me too," Kenta agreed, rubbing his full stomach contentedly. "Need to double-check my gear."
"See you both at the gate," Ryuu said, standing as well.
They exchanged nods and seperated. Izumi and Kenta headed off in their respective directions, while Ryuu turned towards his own apartment.
The D-ranks had been tedious, yes, but perhaps Genma had been right. They had forced them to work together, to learn each other's quirks, to build a basic foundation.
He reached his apartment, unsure if he was being followed or spied upon even with his sensory abilities. Kasumi let him in, her expression questioning his slight delay.
"Team Twelve received its first C-Rank mission, Kaa-san," Ryuu explained simply. "Escort duty to Tanzaku Quai. We leave at 0600 tomorrow. We... celebrated briefly with dango."
Kasumi absorbed this, her eyes searching his face. He saw the flicker of worry – a mission outside the village walls, away from her direct supervision – but also a hint of resignation, perhaps even pride. This was the path he was on now, the path they were on.
"Tanzaku Quai," she murmured thoughtfully. "Be careful, Ryuu. Stick close to your sensei. Trust your instincts, and your teammates." She paused. "Pack double supplies. And practice your ice senbon formation tonight before sleep."
"Yes, Kaa-san."