"What the… they're already best buddies?" Shikamaru stepped lazily into the classroom, eyes sweeping the room.
Choji followed, still crunching potato chips.
"Whoa!"
A black blur brushed past them.
Ino dashed in like a gust of wind, clasping her hands, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "Wow! Mamoru-kun in sunglasses looks so cool!"
At her words, Mamoru whipped the shades off, twirled them once around his finger, then swept his bangs back with supreme confidence.
Every girl in the classroom shrieked on cue.
Mamoru was practically glowing, silently praising himself, 'No matter how I pose, I'm devastatingly handsome, 360° flawless. Of course I'm the center of attention.'
Basking in the glow, he even lifted the hem of his shirt to flash his sculpted abs… just as Sasuke walked in and froze as if struck by lightning.
Mid-pose, Mamoru felt a chill and glanced over straight into Sasuke's death glare. He dropped the shirt and gave an awkward chuckle.
Sakura chirped, following him in, "Ah, Sasuke, you're already here. I thought you were still looking for Naruto."
Sasuke didn't answer. He shot Mamoru an icy look, then took a random seat in silence.
Naruto clutched his stomach in the doorway, pale and leaning on the frame. "What's going on? My gut…"
Sakura lunged, grabbed his collar and snarled, "Naruto! Why'd you bolt just now?"
Naruto pleaded weakly, "Sakura, my stomach… could you be gentle…"
"You dare make demands—" she started, then wrinkled her nose. "Huh? What's that smell?"
She leaned in and sniffed, then, an all-too-familiar, unwelcome odor hit her nose. Realization hit: it was the stench of feces.
Sakura recoiled, released him, backed away frantically, and stammered, "W-why do you smell like… like poop?"
"Huh?" Naruto blinked.
"Don't tell me…" Sakura's eyes widened in horror. "Did you… crap yourself?"
"No!" Naruto stepped closer, waving his hands. "Sakura, listen—"
"Aaaaahhh!" Sakura shrieked, arms crossed in front of her like a shield. "Don't come near me! Gross!"
The rejection from his crush petrified Naruto. He stood stone-faced, heart audibly breaking.
After the farce, time marched on and guiding Jōnin arrived one by one to collect their Genin.
Finally only three teams remained: Team 7, Team 8, and Team 10.
While they waited, Naruto couldn't stand Sakura fawning over Sasuke and exploded.
He jumped up, fists clenched. "I can't accept being on the same team as Sasuke!"
Sakura snapped, rising, "Naruto, drop it. It's decided, whining won't change anything."
Unwilling to lose their two-person world, Naruto racked his brain until a light-bulb went off.
"Listen."
He dashed to Mamoru's desk, slapped both palms on it and blurted, "Switch with Sasuke. You're twins, sensei won't notice."
"No way." Mamoru didn't even blink.
Terrible idea.
"Why not?" Naruto squeaked, bewildered.
"Why would I?" Mamoru shot back, annoyed.
"Exactly. If he moves, it's to our team." Ino barged in, shoved Naruto aside, and planted herself between them. "Shove off, Naruto."
"Hey!" Naruto stumbled, steadied himself, then glared.
Ino stuck out her tongue.
"Deciding to break up teams on your own causes trouble." Shino said coolly, adjusting his shades.
"I-I think it's… bad too." Hinata whispered, fingers knotted.
"What's so bad? Spell it out." Ino planted her hands on her hips, eyes sharp.
"…"
Hinata shrank and Shino fell silent, no match for the fiery girl.
While they fought over him, Mamoru lounged like it was none of his business.
Shikamaru said, "Quit dreaming. Assignments are set, Genin don't get to change them."
He looked at Naruto. "Even if Mamoru and Sasuke look alike, their moves, speech, clothes—nothing matches. You think a Jonin won't spot the swap in half a day?"
"F-fine…" Naruto scratched his head, hope gone, frustration written all over his face.
The classroom door was yanked open with a loud clatter, and a broad-shouldered man with a thick beard filled the doorway. His razor-sharp gaze swept the room like a blade, carrying the pressure only a Jonin could exert.
From his seat, Mamoru studied the newcomer as well—Sarutobi Asuma, son of the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen.
Naruto stepped forward first, face bright with hope. "Are you our teacher? I'm Uzumaki Naruto, the man who'll be Hokage one day."
Asuma didn't even glance at him. He walked straight to the lectern, and unfolded his roster with a rustle of paper. "Nara Shikamaru, Akimichi Choji, Yamanaka Ino."
The three whose names had been called snapped upright in unison. "Yes, sir!"
"I'm your team's Jonin instructor, Sarutobi Asuma." He tucked the list into his waistband and kept walking. "Briefing time. Follow me."
Three figures flashed out of the classroom in order, leaving only hurried good-byes hanging in the air.
"See you later."
"Heading out first."
"Catch you later, Mamoru."
The door clicked softly shut, cutting off the noise inside and splitting the world in two.
CTch." Naruto's shoulders drooped. "So he's their teacher."
But he rallied at once, fists clenched. "The next one through that door will be ours."
"Naruto, wanna bet?" Mamoru laced his hands behind his head, lounging back with a lazy grin.
"Bet on what?" Naruto spun around, eyes sparkling.
"Next instructor through the door—which team he's for." Mamoru's smile widened.
"If it's ours, you treat everyone here to ramen. If it's yours, I pay. Deal?"
Naruto did a quick head-count—five left besides himself, six bowls total. He chewed his lip, wavering.
"Chicken?" Mamoru arched a brow, stretching the word.
He knew he couldn't lose. The next Jonin wouldn't be Kakashi, Team 7 was always picked last, he remembered that much.
In a way it was cheating, but the stake wasn't harsh. Genin lived on C- and D-rank missions, yet a few bowls of ramen wouldn't break the bank.
"Who's scared of who? You're on!" Naruto rose to the bait.
Mamoru dropped his feet off the desk, sat up, and cracked his knuckles. "Bets are locked, no whining when you lose."
"I'm not losing!" Naruto flashed his trademark, fire-filled grin.
"We'll see." Mamoru folded his arms, giving him a meaningful look.
The moment the words left his mouth, the door creaked open again.
A gentle-looking beauty stood there, one hand on the handle, the other holding a clipboard. Her gaze drifted across the room and settled on Team 8.
Kurenai's voice was soft yet clear. "Uchiha Mamoru, Aburame Shino, Hyuga Hinata. I'm your Jonin instructor, please take care of me.
Anyone could tell she was extremely gentle, red eyes carrying a faint smile.
Mamoru vaulted over the desk with a snap of his fingers. "Don't forget the bill."
"Damn it! I lost!" Naruto's howl of defeat rang out behind them.
The three members of Team 8 followed Kurenai into the corridor.
Mamoru strolled with hands behind his head, studying the graceful figure ahead. Their Jonin sensei seemed to be leading Genin for the first time. With the Uchiha gone, Konoha's premier genjutsu expert now stood unrivaled.
So Hiruzen had placed him here to mold a Sharingan genjutsu specialist. Too bad his plan was doomed from the start.
Against a genjutsu user like Kurenai, he held an absolute innate edge. Even without ever awakening the Sharingan, the Six Eyes' Jutsu Perception rendered most Genjutsu useless.
Because he could see through every falsehood, he found studying genjutsu utterly dull.