They stepped out of the administration building.
"Konome, we're heading to the Academy to register next. How are you feeling? Nervous?" Might Guy teased.
"Is today really the Academy's enrollment day?" Konome Taketori ignored the baby talk and asked what had been on her mind since last night.
Was it really such a coincidence that she arrived in Konoha yesterday, and the Academy just happened to be taking new students today?
Guy chuckled. "Of course not.
"The Academy runs three terms a year.
"First term is from April to July, second term is August to November, and third term is January to March.
"It's August now, so kids your age have already completed one term. If you don't want to wait, you'll have to transfer in midyear."
I see.
Konome nodded. "Then what's on the entrance exam?"
Exam?
The word pulled Guy back to his own start line, and to his father's voice. "There's only one test to enter the Academy: chakra extraction. If you can extract chakra and awaken your 'chakra seed,' you're in.
"There's no time limit."
He couldn't hide the small glow of pride on that last point.
Back then, he had failed to extract chakra within the old time limit and was rejected. Even when he finally managed it later, no one wanted to admit him.
"Chakra extraction is the simplest technique. If you can't learn even that quickly, the Academy's a waste," the instructor had said at the time.
Unwilling to accept that verdict, he trained until the Third Hokage took notice and gave him a chance.
He rose to jōnin on pure taijutsu.
The Academy changed its admissions after that, removing the time limit. As long as a child can extract chakra, the door opens. He'd even heard that last year a kid failed on test day, worked at it at home, finally drew out chakra, and was allowed to enroll.
"Don't worry, Konome. You'll pass for sure."
Konome answered with an indifferent nod.
The chūnin exams might be tricky, Konoha genin are strong after all.
But the Academy's entrance test…
Please.
The Academy sat just across the street from the administrative hall. Talking as they walked, the two passed beneath the Academy's plain front gate.
Inside stood a five-story teaching block, its walls a warm orange with a round crest bearing the character for Fire crowning the roof. A broad oval training field stretched out in front of the doors.
Under the sun, lines of little sprouts took turns hurling kunai at scarred round targets.
Behind her blindfold, Konome's Byakugan tightened to pinpoints. Veins and capillaries at her temples pushed taut, ready to bulge. In an instant the entire Academy lay open in her sight, skeleton and wiring exposed.
On the field…
"Uchiha Sasuke, seven rings. Excellent. Next, Uzumaki Naruto."
The Uchiha massacre hadn't yet happened. A still-soft-featured Sasuke swaggered back to his line, basking in the chorus of squeals, Ino and Sakura loudest of all.
"Tch." The whiskered blond boy blew air through his teeth, envy written all over his face.
"Hurry up, no dawdling," Iruka Umino barked, pen poised over his clipboard.
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Watch this!"
Naruto, born to be noticed, scooped up armfuls of kunai and shuriken, already picturing the cheers when he out-threw Sasuke.
A short distance away, Guy noticed Konome's pace quicken. Her path curled into a subtle S, as if this safe schoolyard might throw steel the way a battlefield did.
Before he could ask, a stray shuriken came wobbling through the air and clanked into the spot they'd just stepped past, puffing a ring of dust.
Laughter pealed from the field, followed by an adult's scolding.
Guy looked at Konome in disbelief.
"My sensory field's a little large," she said mildly, raising a finger like a tiny cosmic pointer.
Guy nodded, understanding. There were as many strange techniques in the shinobi world as there were trees in the forest. A child traveling alone, blind at that, would never have reached Konoha without some way to protect herself. With that sense, her chances at becoming a ninja only went up.
Soon they reached the Academy's admissions office.
"Knock, knock, knock."
"Come in."
Guy opened the door and entered with Konome. The room was small, made to feel emptier by the single desk inside. Behind it sat a lean man in a green jōnin vest. He looked up at Guy, short brown hair shadowing cool green eyes, the kind of green that held no warmth at all.
"I'm Kazama Etsu. What do you need?"
"Hello, Teacher Kazama. This is my daughter, Konome," Guy said, stepping aside so the girl behind him was visible. "We'd like to apply for a mid-term transfer."
Kazama's gaze moved up and down Konome, head to toe, and finally stopped on the black cloth covering her eyes.
His lids narrowed. When he looked back at Guy's easy grin, the temperature had dropped. "Are you making a joke at my desk?"
The flat weight of his voice filled the room. Guy's smile stalled.
Konome said nothing. Her fingers tightened slightly around her cane.
"The blind cannot be shinobi."
"But Konome, she "
"I'll say this once. You can leave now."
Kazama dropped his eyes to the paperwork on the desk and squared the edges.
Ninja work wasn't pretend play.
People died.
Every shinobi who stood was someone who had crawled out of a mound of corpses. A blind child, to be made into a ninja?
Ridiculous.
And besides…
He glanced at Guy, who still hadn't given up, and what little patience he had bled out.
"The little girl doesn't know better. But a father who indulges this fantasy is the problem."
"Teacher Kazama, if you could just reconsider "
"There's nothing to reconsider, Jōnin Might. I will not admit your blind daughter. Not now, not ever.
"Out."
"You "
Boom.
The cane struck tile with the bell-clang of a temple gong. Both men turned toward the sound.
The silver-haired blind girl stood calmly, cane in hand. The metal ferrule at its tip had sunk three inches into the floor. A web of hairline fractures fanned outward across the square tile.
"If none of us can convince the others, I have a solution."
Kazama looked at the ruined tile, then at the girl whose expression he could not read behind the cloth. His refusal reached his lips, then retreated.
Something was off here.
A glint stirred in those dead-calm green eyes. "What solution?"
"Fight me. Winner's right."
Guy's blood leapt. He very much wanted to fight this self-righteous gatekeeper himself.
Kazama huffed a laugh. "Little girl, I'm a jōnin too. Do you think Might-san is stronger than I am?"
"I wasn't talking about Guy."
Crack.
Konome drew the cane free, crumbs of mortar falling away. She lifted it one-handed. The metal tip still wore a collar of dust as she leveled it like a line straight at Kazama Etsu's handsome face.
Her smile tugged, just a shade. "Downstairs. One on one.
"You and me."
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