"Look, Lock! See this? My forehead protector. I'm finally a shinobi too!"
Inside the Pomelo Snack Bar, Obito Uchiha jabbed a finger proudly at the gleaming leaf symbol tied around his forehead. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he laughed in triumph, drawing attention from the group gathered around the table.
Seated with him were Lock and their friends: Kurenai Yuhi, Rin Nohara, Genma Shiranui, Ebisu, Might Guy, and Asuma Sarutobi.
Kakashi, unsurprisingly, was absent.
The snack bar itself was barely recognizable compared to three years ago. Once a modest corner shop, it had expanded tenfold in size and now stood on one of Konoha's busiest streets. Locals and shinobi alike knew its name; the Pomelo Snack Bar had become something of a landmark.
"Isn't everyone here already a shinobi?" Lock said dryly, giving Obito a sidelong glance. "What's so special about that?"
The jab made Obito's grin falter. He shot back immediately, voice sharp with embarrassment:
"You've got no right to talk! You graduated with Kakashi, but he's been a chūnin for two years now. You're still just a genin. He's left you in the dust!"
At the mention of Kakashi, the group fell quiet. Each of them had only just graduated this year, but Kakashi had been ahead of them from the start. Genin at five, chūnin at six—his growth was staggering.
"So what?" Lock said evenly. "Kakashi's busy with missions now. Too busy to even meet up with us. Rank doesn't always decide strength. Whether I can beat him or not… well, that's for me to know."
Obito snorted. "Tch, bragging again. No genin could be stronger than a chūnin."
Lock didn't rise to the bait. He knew better than anyone that rank was just a title. Might Duy—the Eternal Genin—had once defeated seven of Kirigakure's legendary swordsmen. The system wasn't perfect.
Kurenai bristled at Obito's tone. "Don't talk like that! I think Lock's stronger than Kakashi."
Obito muttered, "Of course you'd say that…"
Genma leaned forward, eager to change the subject. "Hey, Lock, you've been a shinobi longer than us. What's it like? Any advice?"
The others perked up, all ears.
Lock shrugged. "When I first started, it was nothing but D-rank missions for months. Fetching pets, pulling weeds, carrying goods. Low pay, endless chores. Honestly? Miserable."
A chuckle rippled through the group, but Lock's expression stayed serious.
"Still, even the simplest jobs teach you something. Observe. Work together with your team. If you do that, missions go smoother."
He lifted his cup. "Anyway, congratulations to all of you. From here on, we're comrades in arms."
Laughter filled the shop as cups clinked together. The celebration carried on until one by one, everyone drifted home.
As Asuma left, he paused to glance back at Lock, scowling. "Don't get cocky. I'll surpass you before long."
Lock raised a brow. "You eat my food, drink my drink, and still throw challenges at me? Hmph." He watched Asuma's back retreating down the street, unconcerned. Asuma had talent, no doubt, but catching up to him wouldn't be so simple.
Only Kurenai lingered behind. When the others were gone, she shifted awkwardly, then asked quietly:
"Lock… can you help me train? I feel like I'm behind the others."
He blinked. "What about your father? He's a jōnin. He can guide you way better than I could."
Her eyes softened, tinged with sadness. "Father's always away on missions. He gave me his notes, but… there's so much I don't understand. I try, but without someone to explain, it's hard."
For a moment, she looked younger than her years—lonely and fragile.
Lock sighed. He understood. Jōnin carried heavy responsibilities; they were rarely home. He was grateful, suddenly, for his own mother's constant presence.
"…Alright," he said at last. "Show me what you've got trouble with. I'll help you."
Kurenai's face lit up. She hurriedly pulled a worn notebook from her pouch, opening it to reveal her father's training records—notes on genjutsu refined over the years. Precious, without question. Yet she set it on the table before him without hesitation.
"Here," she said eagerly, pointing at the scrawled diagrams. "This illusion is passed down in our clan, but there are so many things I don't understand. Look—here, and here—"
Lock hesitated at the thought of handling something so valuable, but when he met her hopeful eyes, he couldn't refuse. He bent over the notebook and began to read.
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A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
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