Snow fell heavier than ever over Kirigakure, swirling around the academy's stone courtyard like a living storm. Each flake sparkled under the pale morning sun, and Kumio found himself breathing in the misty air with quiet anticipation. It had been weeks since he first entered the academy, and the loneliness of his early days was slowly giving way to something unexpected, camaraderie.
The academy's teachers, hardened shinobi who had seen too many wars, believed teamwork was as essential as any jutsu. So each morning, they began the day by mixing students into new training groups. Kumio initially resented the distraction from his personal practice, until he realized that working with others taught him things even his father's harsh drills could not.
It started with Hozuki Shien, a quiet boy with jet-black hair and dark eyes that mirrored the Mist's deep lakes. He was from a lesser branch of the Hozuki clan, known for their liquid body techniques, though he had yet to awaken the Hydrification Jutsu. Despite his unremarkable skill so far, his mind was sharp, and he observed everything with a calculating gaze.
"Yuki Kumio," Shien said one afternoon after they finished paired taijutsu drills, "you don't flinch. Not even when sensei aims for your head. Why?"
Kumio considered the question. He thought of his past life's mundane dangers, cars, stray dogs, drunken strangers, and compared them to the deathly silence of Mist's training. "Because fear is a luxury I can't afford," he replied simply.
Shien nodded once, a small smirk flickering over his lips. They understood each other from then on.
Then there was Kuriko, a girl with sea-green hair cropped short and bright, mischievous eyes. She was quick on her feet, faster than any other academy student Kumio had seen. During a game of capture-the-flag set up by their instructor, she dashed between opponents with an agility that left everyone else breathless, except Kumio, who mirrored her movements perfectly.
When they collided near the flag, both freezing in surprise, Kuriko laughed first. "Looks like someone can keep up," she teased, offering him a hand up from the snow. Her warm grin made the cold day feel less biting.
A week later, the teachers introduced chakra control exercises, forcing each child to climb trees and walk across the academy's icy training ponds. It was then Kumio met Gakuto, a broad-shouldered boy with a permanent frown and short, spiky white hair. Gakuto fell into the water more times than anyone, roaring in frustration with each splash. But he always climbed out, teeth chattering, and tried again.
"You don't quit," Kumio observed, offering his hand to help Gakuto up after another plunge.
"Shut up," Gakuto growled, but he took the hand. After that, he started standing next to Kumio at roll call, grumbling about the cold that never bothered Kumio at all.
Ino-Shika-Cho had nothing on the odd trio Kumio formed with Shien and Gakuto. Yet as weeks passed, more faces became familiar.
There was Sayo, a quiet girl who rarely spoke but excelled at shurikenjutsu; her long hair always tucked beneath a white scarf. Kimi, a boy with a high, musical laugh who could weave hand seals faster than any of them, though he lacked chakra reserves to match his speed. Jun, who boasted endlessly of his father's exploits but froze the first time he had to spar. Rin, a thin, nervous boy with a stutter but unmatched memory for theory.
Aya, a dark-skinned girl who never seemed cold, claimed she'd learned to heat her own blood with chakra; her punches left bruises even through training pads. Nari, small and soft-spoken, showed surprising dexterity with medical bandages, always volunteering to patch scrapes after sparring. And finally, Daisuke, the loudest boy in the academy, big-voiced and broad-shouldered, eager to prove himself but with a heart so kind he'd cry if anyone was hurt.
By midwinter, the eleven of them felt more like a family than strangers. They studied together in the academy's drafty halls, raced each other across snowy training grounds, and shared dreams by the campfire during overnight survival exercises.
Kumio found himself drawn closest to two of them.
Shien was cunning, perceptive, and already showed a talent for infiltration and genjutsu theory, qualities that complemented Kumio's destructive power. Kuriko, meanwhile, was fearless and adaptable, her speed perfect for creating openings Kumio could exploit. The instructors began to notice their synergy, pairing them for more exercises.
One afternoon, after a punishing obstacle course, their instructor called the three aside. "You three," he barked, eyes like chips of obsidian, "work together better than any others. Keep training together, you'll thank me when you graduate."
Kumio felt something swell in his chest. A glimpse of the future, of a real team, partners he could trust.
But it wasn't just friendship that grew among the group. Rivalries flared, too. Gakuto often butted heads with Daisuke, their shouting matches echoing across the academy grounds. Aya and Kimi clashed during every spar, each determined to prove the superiority of strength versus speed. Jun's bragging grated on Sayo's nerves, though she'd never say it aloud.
Kumio did his best to mediate, channeling the leadership he knew he'd need someday. At night, he practiced alone under the academy's twisted pines, but more often than not, he found Shien or Kuriko joining him.
One evening, as moonlight silvered the snow, the three future teammates gathered near the academy's frozen pond. Kuriko sat with legs dangling over the ice, Shien leaned against a tree trunk, and Kumio stood at the water's edge, watching his breath mist.
"You always train when the rest of us are asleep," Kuriko said, voice low but curious. "Why?"
Kumio hesitated. He couldn't tell them he remembered a world beyond this one, or that he carried knowledge of wars and tragedies yet to come. So he settled on part of the truth. "Because if I'm not strong enough, I won't be able to protect the people who matter to me."
Shien's eyes glinted in the moonlight. "Your family?"
Kumio nodded. "And now… maybe you two, too."
Kuriko grinned. "Well, then. We'll have to keep up with you."
A few days later, the academy hosted an exhibition match for the oldest classes. Students and families gathered around the courtyard, breath steaming in the frigid air. Kumio's class was assigned seats near the front, eyes wide as two senior students faced off.
The match was brutal. Ice shattered under their feet, water jutsu sprayed like rain, and kunai clashed with sickening cracks. Blood splattered the snow, and one competitor fell screaming when his arm broke beneath a powerful strike.
Kumio felt his stomach twist, but he forced himself to watch. This was the reality of being a shinobi. Around him, some of his new friends looked pale or horrified; others, like Shien, stared with cold fascination.
Gakuto whispered, "That's what we'll face someday."
Kumio nodded slowly. "But we'll be ready."
As winter deepened, tensions outside the village seeped into the academy. Teachers barked commands more harshly, and occasional drills ended with students injured badly enough to be carried away on stretchers. Kumio overheard instructors muttering about rising conflicts along the Great Nations' borders, rumors of alliances shifting like sand.
One snowy afternoon, as he helped Nari bandage Kimi's sprained wrist, a squad of masked jonin marched across the academy courtyard. They bore grim expressions and carried messages sealed with wax. Kumio recognized one symbol, the Mist's war emblem, and his breath caught. War was no longer a distant rumor.
When Kumio returned home that night, his father was waiting for him in the entry hall, eyes dark and serious.
"The Fire Country's forces have crossed into neutral lands," Yoritada said. "It's only a matter of time before the war reaches us."
Kumio felt his hands curl into fists. The Second Great Ninja War, the conflict he had read about, the war that would reshape nations, was no longer part of history. It was his present.
That night, he sat in the nursery by Nidoka's crib, humming softly as his sister slept. Snow fell thick outside, muting the world. He thought of his new friends, Shien's wry smirks, Kuriko's fearless laugh, Gakuto's stubborn scowl, and vowed he would survive the coming storm with them. No matter how dark the path became.
He looked down at Nidoka's peaceful face. "I'll make sure this war doesn't swallow you," he whispered. "I'll protect all of them."
And in the academy, among eleven classmates who had gone from strangers to bonds stronger than steel, Kumio found something he hadn't dared hope for, a chance to build the future he dreamed of.