Akihiro woke up slowly, his eyelids heavy, his mind foggy from the haze of too much sake and too little sleep.
The first thing he noticed was the chaos around him: cups and bottles strewn across the floor, cushions overturned, a faint smell of spilled alcohol hanging in the air. His body ached pleasantly from the night's indulgences, but the real shock came from the positions of those around him.
He was lying with his head gently resting on Sayuri's lap. She was awake enough to let out soft, teasing giggles every now and then, her half-lidded eyes glinting with amusement.
"Mmm… so comfortable…" she murmured in a sleepy, sultry tone, clearly enjoying the situation even more than he did. Her fingers idly traced circles near his shoulders.
Beside him, Mika had collapsed into a relaxed, sprawling posture. One leg rested casually across his torso, revealing the smooth, pale expanse of her thigh. Even in sleep, her natural chaotic energy showed: she shifted every few moments, murmuring unintelligibly, her legs brushing against him with a provocative proximity.
Reika, seemingly calmer than the other two, had somehow positioned herself with her head near his lap, her face pressed against the front of his clothes. She made soft, almost instinctive sniffing sounds in her sleep, a perverse mimicry of curiosity that made Akihiro's pulse spike.
For a second before he was fully awake, he almost 'enjoyed' their presence in a bold way. Luckily, he woke up before he could commit a crime.
In the corner of the room, Nezuko-sensei slept on her futon as if nothing had happened. One arm was draped over her waist, her breathing steady. Her robe was slightly out of place, but not in a provocative way—just comfortably loose. Akihiro looked over and realized she had slept through all the chaos. Or worse… maybe she had been pretending.
And that was even more unsettling.
His body tensed, conflicted between instinct, arousal, and the desperate need to maintain control, even as every possible excuse for staying put evaporated in the complete absurdity of the scene.
Sayuri's giggles grew louder, teasing him with half-awake murmurs. "Careful… you're making it hard to behave, Akihiro…" she whispered with a smirk, her voice a blend of mock seriousness and sensual playfulness.
The harsh and inevitable reality of the morning hit him hard, making his situation even more precarious. His body, the traitor, responded to every stimulus.
'he...hehe' Reika let out giggles.
Akihiro tried to shift slightly, careful not to startle anyone, but the mere motion sent Mika's leg pressing further into him, and Reika's face nudging closer. A perverted voice in his mind screamed ecstatically.
The room smelled faintly of perfume, alcohol, and the warmth of sleeping bodies. Every soft movement—Mika stretching, Reika adjusting—sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes, forcing his mind to focus, hypnotizing himself into believing this was a bizarre kind of training: learning patience, restraint, and emotional navigation in the midst of chaos.
Even as the absurdity of the situation sank in, part of him couldn't deny the intense awareness coursing through his body. Every contact, every soft brush of skin, every subtle movement was a test—of composure, of instinct, and of survival. He exhaled slowly, tensing his grip on the edge of the sensei's robe, and whispered internally:
"Focus… breathe… and maybe… try not to die of embarrassment first."
Slowly, he managed to remove Mika's leg from his torso. When he tried to get Reika off his lap, she clung to his waist.
"...n-no... no..." Reika mumbled, the first syllable coming out like a kitten's whimper.
Fuck... I need to get out of here before they wake up and get offended.
Extra carefully, Akihiro managed to lay Reika down on Mika's lap.
Getting off Sayuri's lap was easier.
He looked at his 'loyal soldier' standing at attention, and then at the mess they'd become.
If anyone saw me like this, I'd be screwed.
This is not how you want to be remembered.
This is how careers end.
His eyes then fixed on Sensei, but then he noticed something by the side of the futon.
It was pieces of clothing… and not the kind meant for public view.
Yep. That's underwear. Fantastic.
No way… no fucking way... Unless she was ultra drunk...
Shit, if I'm here when they wake up, they might get the impression I took advantage of them. I have to leave.
At the doorway, he stopped.
The distant hum of the city was the only thing breaking the morning silence, and he glanced back into the room.
Sunlight poured in, mercilessly exposing the scene: the mess on the floor, Mika's leg draped over Sayuri, Reika's serene face resting against Mika's thigh.
For a brief moment, danger and embarrassment transformed into a strange kind of beauty—like an abstract painting.
He felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt, relief, and a genuine gratitude for having survived.
I'll make it up to them next time…
-
Akihiro stumbled through the quiet streets of the Hyūga district, the sunlight harsh on his eyes and the pounding in his head relentless.
Each step felt heavier than the last; a hangover is still miserable, even in the ninja world. The familiar weight of his katana at his side did little to steady him; even the simplest movements were a challenge as he finally reached the entrance to his modest room.
Before he could fumble with the door, a soft voice called out behind him. "Akihiro…"
He froze and turned slowly, squinting against the light. There, standing a few steps away, was Hinata. Her gentle lavender eyes were filled with concern, her posture slightly slumped as if she were carrying the weight of his exhaustion in her own heart.
She stepped closer, her hands clasped nervously in front of her, her presence radiating a quiet worry that immediately tugged at him.
"You… you look terrible," she said softly, her voice almost trembling. "Are you… okay?"
Akihiro let out a groan, rubbing his face with one hand. "I… survived," he muttered, his voice rough and hoarse. "Just… a little worse for wear." He tried to summon his usual sarcasm, but it faltered under the weight of his actual fatigue and the earnest concern in her eyes.
Hinata glanced down for a moment, biting her lower lip, then back at him.
"I… I wish… I was on your team. I wanted… to be with you," she admitted, her words barely above a whisper. There was a subtle quiver in her voice, a mixture of shyness and disappointment, as if voicing the thought made it almost painful.
Akihiro felt a pang in his chest. Despite the pounding headache, the persistent hangover, and the lingering haze from the night before, a warmth spread through him at the sight of her concern. He forced himself to straighten, trying to look more composed than he felt.
"Hey," he said, stepping closer carefully, careful not to overwhelm her. "It's… it's okay. You're still going to be amazing. I know it."
Hinata's eyes flickered up, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She took a small, tentative step closer, as if drawn by both relief and hope. Akihiro noticed her moving slightly nearer than usual, her body subtly leaning in, and his pulse quickened despite his aching head.
"I… I just… wanted to be with you," she murmured again, barely audible, the words carrying more weight than they should have.
He offered a small, encouraging smile, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. "Hinata… you're with me, alright? Even if we're on different teams, we'll still—" His words faltered, but he let the sentiment hang in the air, honest and steady.
She nodded slightly, her hand brushing against his as if to confirm the bond silently. Her gaze lingered on his face, worried but tender, and for a brief moment, Akihiro felt the chaos of last night, the hangover, and the exhaustion melt away under the warmth of her presence.
"Thanks," she whispered, almost inaudibly, her voice a soft mix of shyness and relief. "Just… please take care of yourself, okay?"
He chuckled weakly, the sound rough in his throat. "Yeah… I'll survive. Don't worry." He rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling the ache, but the tension eased slightly knowing Hinata was there, concerned and close.
"I'm not that weak," he said, flexing his arm playfully.
She giggled softly, leaving the sad mood behind.
"And you don't get close to any other guys," he said with a more serious look.
"W-w-what...? Oh… I… I would never... just you," Hinata said as her cheeks flushed red and her eyes went frantic.
"Calm down. I trust you," Akihiro gave a genuine smile.
"I promise." Finally, she decided that was the right phrase.
Akihiro smiled more widely.
"I-I need to go meet my team...", Hinata said hesitantly.
"Alright, take care, Hinata-hime," he said soothingly.
As she lingered for a moment longer before leaving, Akihiro leaned against the doorframe, exhaling slowly. Despite the pounding headache, the persistent hangover, and the chaotic memories of the night, her presence had grounded him, giving him a reason to push forward through the fog.
Tomorrow, the practical tests would begin.
But for now, on this quiet Hyūga street, surrounded by the gentle concern of someone who mattered, Akihiro allowed himself a moment of rest and a rare, genuine smile.