The Academy's first year was about to end. Daiken's physical training had basically reached army-level intensity at this point, which was insane considering we were all seven-year-old kids. Even crazier? Every single one of us was somehow living up to it.
Each student had their own training routine, personally designed and modified by Daiken himself. I was guessing he had to be a big deal. Probably someone the clans respected enough to let him break their children into proper shinobi with zero complaints.
Which, frankly, made sense.
Daiken looked like a mass of muscle had decided to grow a face and legs, then call itself a man. And yet he moved with unbelievable grace. He didn't stomp. He didn't thud. Usually. He was silent when needed, cat silent. Perfect for sneaking up behind distracted students and assigning them the sacred punishment of face-cleaning the training grounds mid-class.
That day, after one of his usual strangely captivating lectures, this one about a simplified version of the Hidden Leaf's political system and its power players, the students began to file out.
I, however, was focused on someone else.
Just outside the classroom stood a girl, surrounded by clan kids. Boys and girls alike looked at her with admiration and happiness. It felt unnatural. Not fake, just too polished. She wasn't just liked. She was orbiting.
I approached carefully.
She was engaging multiple students at once without making any of them feel overlooked. Which, I had to admit, was genuinely impressive. Managing people was supposed to be an adult thing. Not a "seven-year-old future shinobi" thing.
She stood beneath a lone sakura tree like it had been planted specifically to frame her. The clan kids surrounding her wore the same glassy, grateful expression people usually had right before realizing they'd signed a contract that cost them their soul and seven hundred years of service on the Flying Dutchman.
Yamanaka Sena.
The girl with the CEO smile.
Currently switching into full "politician mode."
She gently dismissed the crowd, leaving them smiling and, somehow, apologizing to her. Then, instead of leaving, she subtly shifted her path toward two other students slumped on a nearby bench. From the outside, it looked casual. Natural.
It wasn't.
Every step was measured, each one bringing her closer to them in the most unassuming way possible. A soft pivot, a slight turn of her shoulders, and suddenly she was beside them, feigning surprise at their depressed expressions like it was all coincidence.
Nara Daiki sat on the bench, textbook open on his lap like he was hoping to absorb its content through suffering. Beside him, an Inuzuka boy sat cross-legged, muttering at a crumpled scroll while his dog resting beside him.
"You both look like you've fought a war and lost," Sena said sweetly, her politician smile returning as smoothly as always.
"Math war," Daiki muttered. "And I'm bleeding internally."
"I think I missed three whole problems," the Inuzuka boy added, glancing at his dog. "Even he growled at the scroll."
Sena let out a gentle, practiced laugh. "Then maybe it's time for a strategic retreat."
She knelt beside Daiki's bench and pulled a folded study guide from her sleeve like a magician revealing a card. "This covers the next two weeks of material. I simplified the logic paths and added clan-based examples where it applied."
Daiki blinked at her. "You… made this?"
"Of course," she said lightly. "I needed it for myself anyway. But you're welcome to use it."
"You're a lifesaver, Sena," he said, already flipping it open.
She turned to the Inuzuka boy and handed him a fresh scroll. "This one's pre-formatted. Just copy your answers onto it. You might even get a gift from your parents if you don't fail again."
He looked at the scroll like it was a treasure map. "You're seriously the best. No joke."
Sena smiled again, warm, soft, and reassuring. "I just like seeing my classmates succeed."
Both boys thanked her again as she stood, dusted off her skirt, and adjusted her sleeves with the precision of someone stepping off a podium.
As she walked away, the Inuzuka boy leaned toward Daiki. "She really looks out for people, huh?"
Daiki nodded, eyes still on the guide. "Yeah. She's always helping. We all owe her big time."
Sena turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Her expression didn't change.
But just for a moment, her smile shifted.
Still warm. Still polite.
But now it was the kind of smile worn by someone playing a game no one else even realized was happening.
I waited until she was mostly alone before approaching. I took a slow breath.
Social combat wasn't exactly my specialty. I preferred scenarios where someone ended up bleeding. Or electrocuted. Ideally both.
She turned toward me before I even said a word.
"Noa," she said, voice smooth as silk. "Top performer in physical training and chakra control. It's an honor to finally have a proper conversation with you."
I didn't respond to the compliment. "I need a favor."
Her eyes lit up. Not warmly. More like a cat realizing the mouse just asked for directions.
"I'm listening."
"I want chakra sensing training. Over summer vacation. From someone who actually knows what they're doing. Not Academy fluff. You're a Yamanaka. I figured you'd know someone."
My tone was flat. Direct. No point in fluffing it up. She'd see through that faster than Shizuru could finish a textbook.
Sena tilted her head slightly. "That's an interesting request. You're not from a sensory clan. You don't seem like the type. So... why?"
Of course she asked. She wasn't giving out favors for free.
"I think I have a knack for it," I said. "And I need to know what's around me before it hits me in the face. Simple enough?"
Her smile twitched, that same politician smile again. Too perfect. Too clean.
"It's not simple at all," she said, calm and measured. "But I admire the intent. Most wouldn't think to ask. Let alone ask me."
I replied immediately "Besides me and Shizuru, you're the only one smart enough to see the angle and shameless enough to act on it."
She blinked once, then chuckled, not mocking, just amused. "Flattery. From you. That alone makes this worth considering."
"It wasn't flattery. I don't like to manipulate people or be manipulated by them, but I'm smart enough to know when I need a favor. And I always pay my debts."
"Even better."
She studied me for a long beat, like she was weighing value versus risk.
"I'll connect you with someone," she said at last. "A cousin. Not a prodigy, but very skilled. He owes me."
"Of course he does," I muttered.
"But," she added, lightly brushing a speck of dust off her sleeve, "if you end up learning something... interesting... during your training, I want to hear about it. Not techniques, I already know those. Just… insight."
I narrowed my eyes. "You want information."
"I want understanding," she said smoothly. "You and I both know knowledge is more valuable than jutsu."
I thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Fine."
She paused for a second, then added, "And next year, I'd like to join you and Shizuru for Your physical and academic training routine."
I sighed. "Fair enough."
She smiled again. Just for a moment. And this time, it almost looked real.
Then it was gone.
"I'll send word when it's arranged," she said. "And Noa?"
I looked up, meeting her eyes.
Her expression was calm, but there was something underneath it. A tension. A threat. Something cold and serious that hadn't been there a second ago.
"Don't break your word to me."
I didn't answer. I just turned and walked away, already regretting my deal. But I had to set that aside for now, the Academy's first-year final test was coming up, and I needed to focus if I didn't want to embarrass myself.