Uzumaki Naruto's shinobi goals, the scroll reads, unfurled on the stone of the Yondaime's head. That's all it reads. My brush taps against one of the Yondaime's locks in a steady beat. I haven't even bothered dipping it in ink yet. I scowl at the mostly blank scroll, at the barrier it represents between myself and a Konoha headband.
It's been five years since I started the Academy, and five years since the deal I made with the old man. Five years of staring at a blank scroll hoping for an epiphany.
"This is so stupid," I hiss. My chakra control slips and a low, moaning wind kicks up, ruffling my hair and sending my scroll rolling merrily right off the side of the Hokage Mountain. I groan, dropping my head in my hands.
I'm screwed. I'm completely and utterly screwed. Tomorrow is graduation day and I still don't have anything to tell the Sandaime.
"Why can't I just write 'Protect Konoha' and be done with it?" I mumble. It would be so easy. All it would take is a new scroll and some ink and a convincing smile. Boom, shinobi. Easy as one, two, three.
So why can't I?
I peek through my fingers at Konoha, at the legacy of all the Hokage. It would be easy to lie to the old man, to tell him I want to protect Konoha and all of its inhabitants. Easy to cheat my way out of our deal. He'd nod and smile proudly and hand me my headband himself. I'd rise through the ranks, and one day he'd give me his hat, too. I'd be Konoha's newest protector, the one shinobi that everyone respected.
And it would all be a lie.
I sigh, leaning back and uncrossing my legs. I can just make out Konoha's business district from here, the one area of the village still active this late at night- or early in the morning, as it were.
The bars in particular are still alive with lights and drunken patrons, and my mind easily supplies a slew of shouting and laughter to go along with the imagery. My eyes track a chunin, walking slowly towards one bar in particular. I watch as he slips in through the wooden doors, shoulders slumped.
And I watch as not a minute later he stumbles right back out, a small, portly man following right along and shoving the exhausted shinobi until he stumbles and collapses in the dirt. He stomps back into the bar, leaving the chunin to struggle to his feet and shuffle away. My teeth grind.
That fat asshole doesn't deserve my life. He doesn't deserve old man Hokage's life. None of them do. They don't deserve a single drop of my blood, a single-
"Naruto."
"Gah!" I whip around, on my feet, one hand already clenched tightly around a shuriken from my weapons pouch.
And I see none other than Uchiha Sasuke, my greatest and most unwanted rival, standing at the top of the steps that encircle the Hokage Mountain.
"What are you doing here, Uchiha?" I demand. The scowl that appears on his face gives me a lot more satisfaction than it probably should. There isn't a lot that gets under his skin every time.
"Don't call me that," he snaps.
"Seriously though, why are you here?" I ask. He rolls his eyes and walks forward, sitting down beside me.
"I couldn't sleep," he admits. "I'm too..."
"Nervous?" I smirk.
"Excited," he smoothly counters.
"So you figured you'd come bother me instead?" Sasuke shrugs, staring down at Konoha.
"What are the ink and brush for?" He asks. My eyes flicker down to the brush still held in my right hand, inside the ring of the shuriken, idly spinning it.
"I'm practising my kanji," I tell him casually.
"Where's your scroll, then?"
"Rolled over the edge," I answer truthfully.
"Hn."
"Yeah, go hn yourself," I mutter, plucking the shuriken off my brush and shoving it back in my pouch. I crack open the ink blot and dip the brush in, shifting so as to face one particularly spiky lock of the Yondaime's stone hair. It's no scroll, but it'll do. I don't have anything in particular to write, but I've seen enough of Konoha for one night- er, morning.
So I draw seals. First a basic storage seal, the first seal Iruka-sensei ever showed us. Then a seal to mute scents. A heating seal. An artificial lighting seal. A chakra absorbing seal. I'm just beginning the first brush strokes for a certain spiraling seal when Sasuke is suddenly leaning over me, a strange look on his face.
He reaches out and touches a hand to my storage seal, lighting it up blue with chakra. He moves down the line, lighting each of the seals up except for the chakra absorbing seal, which glows a malevolent red as it sucks his chakra up. He leans back, a nonplussed look on his face.
"Do I pass?" I ask dryly.
"How do you know all those seals?"
"I pay attention in class," I deadpan. Sasuke shakes his head and jabs a finger at the chakra absorbing seal.
"That was never covered in the Academy." He gestures at the beginnings of my last seal. "And none of the seals Iruka-sensei showed us had spirals in them either." He cocks his head. "Besides, you can't even use seals. Why go through the trouble of learning them?"
God, he's such a prick.
"Well, Uchiha," I begin, drawing the name out slowly, much to my rival's ire. "As you just proved, I can still lay down all the groundwork even if I can't directly activate them myself. And in case you didn't notice, seals can do pretty much anything. Maybe I'm looking for a seal that can fix my chakra."
The real reason for my rabid research of Fuuinjutsu burns from its place on my stomach. Sasuke scoffs, but turns back to Konoha nonetheless. I roll my eyes, drop my brush into my pocket, and shove the used ink blot into the still glowing storage seal on the Yondaime's hair. I stand up and stretch, earning myself several immensely satisfying pops and cracks.
"Time to turn in, I think. I'll see you tomorrow, Sasuke," I say, shooting him a mocking salute and heading for the stairs.
"Why were you really here?" Sasuke asks. I freeze. "You wouldn't come up here for something as simple as practising kanji."
I turn to face him, features carefully neutral. "How would you know?"
He rolls his eyes. "I know you, idiot."
"Not well enough," I retort. Turning on my heel, I continue for the stairs.
"Is it the deal?" Damn. I deflate, the air rushing out of me in an enormous sigh.
"Yeah."
"I don't see what there is to worry about. Just tell the Sandaime you want to be the Godaime Hokage someday and be done with it," he offers. I lean back against the face of the Hokage Mountain, crossing my arms.
"That won't be enough and you know it. I can't just do this halfway. Maybe he'd accept something like that, but it wouldn't be right. My goal as a shinobi has to mean something. Something important. I can't accept anything less!" I explain in frustration. Sasuke turns back to Konoha, a tense silence falling over the two of us. I'm considering just calling it a day and leaving when his voice drifts over his shoulder.
"You know why I want to be a shinobi?" I blink at the question.
"Uh, to surpass your brother, right?" It's not entirely a guess. Sasuke has said something similar several times before, after, or even during our daily spars. Even so, I can just barely make out his shaking head in the darkness of the early morning.
"Close." He cranes his neck, staring at me with hard eyes. "My goal as a shinobi is to separate myself from Uchiha Itachi, from Uchiha Fugaku, and from the Uchiha clan as a whole. My goal is to become a shinobi all my own.
"That goal wouldn't mean much of anything to the Sandaime, but it means something to me. That's all that matters, in the end." He says quietly. He leans back, resting his head on his linked hands. "Goodnight, Naruto."
I nod slowly, for once accepting a clear dismissal without a retort, and make my way down the steps.
I have a lot to think about.
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