Hours later, Reito lay on the bed of his new room at the orphanage, staring up at the ceiling, positively fuming. Thanks to the Fifth Hokage’s mandated “recertification” he wasn’t just being sent back to the academy, his Genin status had been revoked. Everything he had done in pursuit of his dream—studying, training, and graduating with Kazuki and Yuji, completing missions with them and Amaya Sensei, and what happened on their final mission—it all counted for nothing.
His logical brain understood why, of course, though sometimes Reito wished he could just be upset about something without seeing the other side of it. Making him recertify wasn’t about his grades or his ability as a ninja. With the current academy cohort preparing for graduation, having him join them was the perfect opportunity to monitor him for a while. There was also the possibility that they were planning to fail him, thereby removing the possibility of him developing as a ninja.
If this wasn’t infuriating enough, following what Sakura had presented as a simple introduction to the village leader, Reito had been asked to give his official mission debriefing, to recount the full gory details of Team Four’s defeat. He wasn’t a fool. He expected it would have to be done at some point, but was then the right time? And hadn’t they already reviewed his memories? Was it necessary to make him relive it all so soon?
Reito jumped to his feet and punched his mattress repeatedly. He had done it again, mistaken his last memories for recent ones. It had been five years! When was he going to stop doing that? Why couldn’t he remember? He felt like he was losing his mind, like any second he would realize that this had all been one big Genjutsu.
He anxiously paced the length of his new home. Cell might be a better word for it, though, since there wasn’t much room for pacing. The box room Sakura had shown him was just wide enough for a single bed with a wooden study desk and chair beside it, and just long enough to fit a wooden double wardrobe at the foot of the bed. It might be okay for younger kids, but for him, it felt claustrophobic.
The orphanage was nice and new, as Sakura had told him, but the apparent need to house and care for hundreds of parentless children meant the shared facilities—the common area, the bathrooms, the canteen, the creche—had taken precedence over individual room sizes. Reito was just thankful he had his own. Even so, he couldn’t imagine living here long-term. He needed to get his own place ASAP, and that meant working.
The problem was, he reminded himself, that his previous source of income had been taken from him, and what little he had saved from his few missions and working in the family shop was long gone, just like the shop itself and his inheritance. Just like his family. Reito sat back down on the bed, sadness washing over him. The Hokage had given him some money to tide him over. Compensation, she called it. It wouldn’t last long, though. It wouldn’t bring them back.
Reito curled up on the hard mattress. Now that his rage had ebbed somewhat, it occurred to him for the first time that he might not even want to be a ninja anymore. On their very first away mission, he and his friends had been kidnapped or worse, and their teacher had been killed. Maybe the Hokage’s decision was a sign. Maybe he should do what Amaya Sensei had advised him to do months—years—ago, and give up on becoming a ninja.
Lying there alone with these negative thoughts running through his head, behind a door with a lock, Reito did what he hadn’t had a chance to do since his awakening. What he hadn’t allowed himself to do. He let go of the emotions he had been holding back and grieved for everything he had lost.
***
Reito awoke before dawn the following morning. Despite the darkness of the early hour, he felt alert and energized. At some point in the night, he had achieved a sense of clarity on his situation, either due to the time he had to think or the tears he had shed. Giving up on becoming a ninja wasn’t an option, and he rebuked himself for even considering it.
If he was alive, there was a chance that Kazuki and Yuji were too. And even if they weren’t, he had to know one way or the other. The village may have given up on finding out what happened to them, but he wasn’t going to. He owed it to them and their families, to Amaya Sensei, and to himself to uncover the truth. To avenge them. Perhaps in doing so, he would discover the reason for his missing memories and lack of growth.
Unfortunately, the only real path Reito could envision to making that happen was to continue his ninja training. He needed to get his Genin status back and become strong enough to take on the kind of people that may have been involved in his disappearance. People like Hidan and Kakuzu.
It wasn’t going to be easy, though. The deck was stacked against him. His abilities weren’t very impressive, and the villagers—and maybe the Hokage too—probably wouldn’t want to see him succeed. He would have to make it impossible for his teachers to fail him this time around. That meant improving dramatically in a short period of time.
Reito clenched his fist as he looked out of his small window and watched the dawn sunrise crown Hokage Rock. He might not have natural talent to fall back on, or his friends to support him like before, but he had something no one else at the academy would have. He had a reason to become strong. If he couldn’t become a Genin with talent or teamwork, he would do it with drive and commitment. After barely graduating the first time around, Reito was heading back to school.
***
When Reito made his way down to the orphanage cafeteria for breakfast later that morning, he was taken aback by how many other residents there were in the facility. The large hall was filled to the brim with parentless children, some of whom had to queue for a seat to become available. For obvious reasons, he had been focused on the effect of the attack on the village but now had a better idea of how devastating the war had been.
One positive to this was that among the sea of faces, Reito was all but invisible. As the other children ate around him, they either chatted away with each other or kept themselves to themselves, the latter of which were easily recognizable by their glum faces. Since he doubted any of them had attended the Town Meeting, without a guardian to speak of, they didn’t seem to know anything about him.
When Sakura stopped by as planned, she was swarmed by the younger children, who beamed when they spotted her. The reason for this became apparent when she began handing out candies from a large pouch. It seemed as though she made regular appearances at the facility. Reito waited patiently in the lobby while she finished her visit, and then the pair of them left the building.
“Is that the best thing to do for those kids?” Reito asked in a slightly judgmental tone. “Giving them candy? It’s not like it’s going to make things better for them. Plus, should a Medical Ninja really be giving them sugar?”
“Oh, that’s right, I saved you one, here,” Sakura replied with a smile, holding out a wrapped treat.
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Reito felt his eyes widen and very nearly reached for it, then turned away, pouting, his cheeks flushing scarlet with embarrassment, which Sakura giggled at.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” she said coyly. “They’re not candies, they’re vitamins! They’re sugar-free, too, and I should know, I make them myself!”
“Vitamins?”
“Yep. The food served in the cafeteria is nutrient-rich, but growing bodies need help, and it can be tough to get the younger kids to take supplements regularly, so it’s easier to make it seem special. The older children know.”
Reito didn’t respond but raised an eyebrow in astonishment. She had proved him wrong on all counts. It was clever. Then again, that was to be expected of Sakura. She had always been clever. He shook his head, remembering once again, the irritating girl he had known. This whole situation was just bizarre.
“You wanted to get some flowers on the way, right?” said Sakura, pointing to the Yamanaka Floristry up ahead.
Reito ignored the looks he was getting from passersby as he spotted the store.
“Ino should be working today. I’m sure she’ll give you a nice discount.”
“Ino?” Reito cringed. Sakura was one thing but seeing another old classmate—another who was sure to have grown to a foot or more taller than him—wasn’t something he was looking forward to. Even so, he wanted to get the flowers, so he steeled himself as they entered the store.
“Ah, Sakura!” said Ino brightly, coming around the counter immediately, as if she was expecting the girl. “Fancy seeing you here! And who might this be?”
In response to the exuberant greeting, Reito noticed a distinct but likely involuntary twitch of Sakura’s right eye and a subtle stiffening of her brow. “Ino, you remember Reito Tsu,” she said.
“Of course, of course, how are you, Reito?” asked Ino excitedly. Her almost knee-length blonde hair looked as though it hadn’t been cut since he last saw the girl. Much of it covered the right side of her face. As suspected, like Sakura, she was now considerably taller than him.
“I’m…” he started, unsure how to complete that sentence without telling a bald-faced lie. “How are you, Ino?”
“Good, good. Good,” Ino answered uncertainly, looking him over like she was searching for the rest of her sentence on his face. “Oh, that’s right, look who else is here!” She indicated in the direction of the counter, where a person in a long green coat stood with their hands in their pockets. Their face was obscured by a low hood, a high collar, and a pair of dark glasses.
“It’s always nice to see old classmates,” spoke a low muffled voice.
“Err, yes,” said Reito without a clue who he was speaking to. “How have you been?”
The unidentifiable person didn’t reply.
“It’s Shino!” Ino announced.
Reito frowned briefly at the girl’s lack of tact. He recalled the quiet Aburame Clan boy who used to collect bugs during recess, but how was he supposed to know it was him? He couldn’t even see his face.
“You didn’t remember me,” said Shino matter-of-factly.
“Of course I knew it was you,” Reito lied to spare his feelings. “How have you been, Shino?”
“No. You didn’t remember me,” he repeated, making the atmosphere very uncomfortable.
“Well, we were here to get some flowers, maybe you could help with that, Ino?” Sakura interrupted, to Reito’s great relief. “You wanted two bouquets, right, Reito?”
The boy nodded, feeling Shino’s eyes on him as Ino put together two tasteful bouquets of white and purple flowers without, he noted, asking what they were for.
“There we are,” said Ino, marveling at her floral creations. “They’re on the house in honor of your safe return! If you ever want to talk, feel free to stop by. We have a lot to catch up on, right Shino?”
There was an awkward silence before Shino answered simply, “Indeed.”
***
Several minutes after he and Sakura left the store, Reito asked her, “You told them I was going to be there?” It was a statement more than a question.
The girl seemed to consider her response before giving it honestly, “Yes. I thought it would help. Did I overstep?”
Reito also paused before answering bluntly, “It was beyond obvious. I don’t need anyone’s pity!”
“Pity?” Sakura repeated, looking a little hurt.
“Ino, Shino, even you… None of us were friends. Not really,” Reito clarified, his pitch increasing somewhat. “My only real friends are gone, and I don’t need surprise visits from former classmates who barely knew me, so if you’ve got any more of those planned…”
“Okay,” said Sakura. “I understand, and I apologize for the bad setup. I should have known you would see through that, even if Ino’s acting skills had been better. You were always a sharp one.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Reito mumbled.
“What? We may not have been close, but you don’t think I didn’t notice you at all back then, do you?” Sakura asked.
“I know you didn’t,” said Reito with a dry laugh. “Your attention was focused solely on Sasuke Uchiha!”
Sakura grinned at this. “It’s certainly true that I was keen on Sasuke, but I made a point of keeping an eye on anyone who rivaled my test scores.”
Reito frowned in confusion. “You were the smartest person in the class, I never beat you on a test!” he protested.
“Maybe not, but now and then, Iruka Sensei would sneak tactical knowledge questions into our standard tests, the kind with strategic scenarios and such, to measure cognitive reasoning. Those were the only ones that I ever slipped up on. When I…investigated…I found that you always did the best on those, even if your overall score wasn’t high. Although, that might have been because Shikamaru was holding back.”
“Shikamaru? The lazy Nara Clan guy?” said Reito with a dubious expression.
“Yeah, turns out, he’s a genius! He’s an advisor to the Hokage now,” Sakura explained. “Still, you scored the best on those questions at the time. I always wanted to approach you about your answers to get an idea of how I could improve, but that would have meant revealing that I had snuck into the office.”
“So, ‘Lazy Shikamaru’ is a genius, and ‘teacher’s pet Sakura’ snuck into the office?” Reito said, laughing to himself.
“Yep. Only in the interest of education, mind you, I never cheated or anything like that!” Sakura insisted haughtily. “The point is, people aren’t always what they seem and they’re capable of change. I promise there won’t be any more planned meetings, but you’re bound to run into our classmates at some point. When that happens, try to be open to it.
“Your disappearance affected all of us in some way, Reito. For one thing, it served as a stark reminder of the real danger we faced as young ninjas. My team learned that on our own first away mission. We survived by the skin of our teeth, then when we returned, your whole team was presumed dead. It was a real shock for me, and I’m sure our classmates felt the same. Having you back now, looking like you do…”
Reito hadn’t considered this. He and his friends may not have been as close with the other students as they were with each other, but they had grown up together. When they were declared MIA, they were all still kids. It had to have affected them, and now Reito was walking around like some sort of ghost from their past. Maybe that explained Ino and Shino’s odd behavior. Then again, maybe they were just odd.
***
Fifteen minutes later, Reito and Sakura arrived at Konoha’s Fourth Great Ninja War remembrance garden. It was an idyllic setting with benches spaced out between rows of flora, at the center of which stood a black stone memorial shaped like a flame. The square slab beneath it was inscribed with the names of those lost during the war and the events preceding it. Among those listed were Takato Tsu, Shizuka Tsu, and Reika Tsu.
Reito laid down a bouquet for his family, and Sakura gave him some time alone to pay his respects. He thought he would have something to say when he arrived at the memorial, something that might put his family’s spirits at ease, something that might relieve him of the pressure on his chest, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe one day they would, but for now, with so much uncertainty surrounding him, he could only offer a silent prayer.
Their next destination wasn’t too much further. Training Ground Three, like the other nine more basic training areas, was inside the village to the southeast. It housed a special memorial reserved for Konoha ninja killed in action. It was very similar in terrain to Training Ground Six, where Reito and his friends had undertaken their final exam, but at the center of the clearing were three wooden posts, and another black stone monument, this one vaguely resembling a giant kunai.
“We lost it during the attack,” Sakura explained. “After things settled down, Kakashi Sensei located it, still intact. It’s terrible to think we might need a new one very soon.”
Reito saw what she meant. Names covered almost all the allotted space on this stone, including those of Amaya Daigo, Yuji Saito, Kazuki Torimoto, and Reito Tsu. Here, he laid down his second bouquet, in memory of his teacher, and as a symbolic farewell to the life he once knew.