The open day fell halfway through the winter break – on the first weekend in fact – and while it wasn’t as big as the first day of the academic year, it was still something that a fair bit of the village was excited about.

Though on second thought, it was probably because of the boom in the Leaf’s birth rate after the Nine-Tails’ rampage. The village not-so-subtly was rewarding families for having children, meaning that the population had skyrocketed in the last five years.

Or was it steadily returning to where it used to be?

Either way, it meant that Ayame and I had our work cut out for us. Teuchi had lent us what he called his “Ramen Cart”, a wheelable cooking station. Thankfully, the Academy had hired a genin team on a D-rank mission to help us move the cart to the front of the Academy as well as run back and forth to Ichiraku’s to top up our quickly decreasing stock.

It was a win-win situation in my book. They got some free ramen and money and we didn’t have to break our backs wheeling the damn thing. All in all, the open day wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. There was a welcome talk from Lord Third and guided tours led by the older students.

After that, parents and kids were free to wander the school in search of the many exhibits set up by the subject teachers, including the physical side of the Academy.

For that, they had set up an obstacle course on the track field.

Over the last two hours, I didn’t have much opportunity to leave the cart, except for when Ayame sent me to fetch some water or throw something away. She was doing all the heavy lifting where the ramen was concerned – not that I was tall enough to contribute.

Throw in what seemed to be boundless amounts of energy and it was no wonder I couldn’t keep my eyes off the obstacle course over yonder.

“Naruto?” Ayame’s breath dampened the air as she shook the noodles in the strainer. “Be a dear and start up the song again, please. That should bring some more customers.”

“Aye, aye.”

I grinned and pressed a button on the weird megaphone-looking thing taped to the top of the cart. A catchy tune blared out of it, echoing far beyond the cart. Ayame groaned and my grin only widened. According to her, she was old enough to remember when she, her mother, and her father wandered the village’s streets to that very same tune.

“Why hasn’t Dad got rid of this thing?”

“Hey!” I hopped down to the floor and dusted my trousers. “It’s a nice song, don’t you think? ~ Welcome to the ra-men stop. ~ One day, it’ll be a shop but till then, my friend, you’ll have to lend me a hand! ~”

A growl rumbled in her throat and she lobbed an onion root at my head. I saw it coming from a mile away and ducked, allowing it to tumble into the bushes behind me.

“Never again. If Dad hears you singing that, then he’ll start.” She shook her head. “No thank you. I had to deal with years of that irritating jingle.”

I laughed some more at her irritation. She hadn’t started like this at all. Hell, she was even singing along, to begin with… but I guess two hours of it had become pretty annoying, especially since I didn’t help matters. Singing along every single time it played wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but sue me, I was starting to get pretty goddamn bored.

My gaze drifted to the obstacle course once again. The echoing chime of a bell reached me before it was smothered by a rising tide of cheers. Someone had probably beaten the course, which was impressive considering it was the one that my class was doing before the winter break. No one had completed it at all the entire evening.

I craned my neck skyward as if it would somehow allow me to see who it was that won.

“Go.”

“Huh?”

Ayame nodded at me with a smile. “The obstacle course. Go to it.”

I pulled my eyes away from the section of wall blocking my vision with some reluctance. “...Nah, it’s fine. I’ve got to be here to help you.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re what, seven? I can’t expect you to sit down for two hours straight and not get antsy. Go. It’ll be good for you to let loose a little.”

I was already walking away when I voiced my doubt.

“Are you sure?” I stopped to ask as she nodded again. “Okay, I’ll go to the obstacle course and come right back, ‘kay?”

“Take your time!” Her voice echoed. “Go see your friends or something. I work with Dad during rush hour. This? This is nothing.”

Guilty conscience sufficiently mollified, I took off running, turning the corner to see a child clambering down from the last log. I glanced at the blackboard held up by one of the students to his time of one-minute-fifty-two before I was spotted by the pair jotting down the scores of the kids.

I recognised them as one of the many kids who’d been bribed to come by the promise of free ramen during the last week of school and waved them over.

“What’s up?” the girl asked, swallowing a yawn.

“I was wondering if I could give the obstacle course a try?”

She glanced furtively at her classmate, who mussed up his bright brown hair with a frown. “I mean… I dunno. It’s not like you can’t.”

“Would a bowl each at the end of this sweeten the deal?”

Their heads snapped towards me.

“Deal!” “Deal!”

Moments later, I was carefully balanced on top of the first log with the next one about one arm’s length away, ready to start. There were only seven logs to clear – half less than usual – and it wouldn’t be too difficult, especially since I’d been slowly introducing some parkour to my morning runs recently.

But I needed something to waste some energy on, so here I was.

“Right!” the boy called. “Ready… GO!”

After the first step, it was smooth sailing. The subsequent jumps granted me even more momentum until the biting wind was nothing in the face of my quickly burning heart. Before I knew it, it was over, and I tugged the rope dangling from the bell to signal the end of the game.

I grinned in the face of the roaring applause as a gaggle of starry-eyed kids crowded around the final log.

“Woah!” “That was so cool!” “Can you teach me to do that?”

To say that I didn’t feel a small smidge of pride at their adoration would be a lie, but from the looks the two students in charge of this deal were sending me, there was only one real answer to their praise.

I winked at them, leaning in to share the conspiratory secret. “You can find out if you join the Academy.”

Their responses were about as excitable as I’d expected.

A part of me felt bad about enticing them into what would most likely be a life fraught with suffering, but at the very least, they would have the option to quit if things got too hairy and had parents look out for them.

That was more than the orphans in my class had.

They rushed back to their respective parents, tugging eagerly at their clothes. I stretched out my now-warmed limbs and hopped down, ready to return to boring monotony once more.

Of course, things were never that simple.

“Goddamned demon brat.”

A wave of whispers and glances rippled through the crowd but nobody added any fuel to the fire.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I didn’t flinch in the face of the scorn from… the mother of the boy whose record I’d smashed to pieces. I simply bowed in her direction once before walking away. I knew how these things went, after all. One reply, good or bad, would lead to more insults and make it a spectacle.

None of the kids deserved to have a happy evening ruined, no matter how much their parents deserved a tongue-lashing. On my way out I caught the eyes of the two students, who looked absolutely nonplussed, both offering me an awkward smile that I returned.

Ayame was quick to notice my frown.

“What happened to you and why are you back so early? Didn’t you go to see your friends?”

“Not in the mood anymore,” I grunted. “Now, what can I help with?”

One intense staredown later, she shuffled to the left to make some space for me. She pointed at some scraps pushed to the side of a cutting board. “Throw these away.”

I heard the voices before I saw what was happening. Assuming the worst case, I sprinted back to the cart.

“That godforsaken boy is behind your counter? No wonder your ramen is so bitter. I’ll make sure to tell everyone I know to stay away from Ichiraku’s!”

Ayame, more furious than I’d ever seen her, poked her flushed face through the cart.

“Excuse me? What right do you have to do anything of the sort, you bitch!”

The woman shoved a finger in her face, her hair dyed an eye-searing orange and yelled something incomprehensible.

Her son met my eyes from around her ankles and buried his chin in his chest. I beckoned him over and he trotted towards me, slipping under his mother’s notice.

Typical.

Their shouting match raged on so I bent down on a knee to talk to him. “What’s your name, kid?”

“H-Haruto.”

“Really?” I feigned mock horror. “My name is Naruto. You stole my name!”

It wasn’t the best thing to start with given he was currently attempting to push his chin even deeper into his chest so I changed track.

“Um… what’s up with your mother?”

He blinked wetly. “I-I’m sorry, big bro. I told her you were cool b-but she didn’t listen.”

I watched him swallow a sob, ruffling his brown hair to calm him down. “Hey, do you know what makes a super strong shinobi?”

“...N-No?”

“You get three guesses.”

He wiped his eyes. “Super strong jutsu?”

“Nope.”

“Erm… being good at obstacle courses?”

I crossed my arms over each other. “Nope! Want me to tell you?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

“It’s being able to keep a calm head. If you control this,” I tapped a finger to the side of my head, “no one will be able to push you around.”

Haruto frowned and tilted his head in disbelief. “Really, big bro Naruto?”

“Yup. If you can keep a cool head, you can do lots of things. Like, figuring out the best way to train. It’s not good to get upset and then accidentally hurt yourself, is it?”

“...I guess not.”

“Right?” I grinned at him, drawing out a small smile. “So, what kind of shinobi do you want to be, Haruto?”

That question seemed to do the trick. His eyes lit up as he launched into a tirade on how the Fourth Hokage was the coolest Hokage ever – which I had to admit, did bring a smile to my face.

Every so often, I returned my eyes to the ongoing argument between Ayame and Haruto’s mum. It was growing even more ferocious, Ayame having taken a fistful of the woman’s dress in her left hand and waving a ladle threateningly in her right.

Thankfully, one of the teachers heard the commotion in the distance and rushed over in a blitz of movement, startling the both of them.

Haruto’s smile vanished at the sight of the green flak jacket.

When the shinobi turned around, I frowned at the tell-tale scar across the bridge of his nose.

“What’s going on?” Iruka swept his stern gaze across the small crowd that had gathered over the past few minutes. He zeroed in on the main culprits, brow soaring in shock. “Ayame? What’s going on here?”

She let go of the woman’s clothes and fixed her underneath her cap.

“This woman marched up to our cart, completely unprovoked, and called Naruto all sorts of horrible things.” Ayame shot her a scathing glare that was returned with equal intensity. “I’ll admit that it got out of hand, but what kind of adult treats a child this way?”

Iruka hummed and folded his arms.

“And what do you have to say for yourself Mrs…”

“Takashi,” the orange-haired woman said, offering a small, demure bow. “That boy intentionally participated in the obstacle course, as a student, to diminish my son’s achievements. But with nothing I could do, I came to buy the two of us some ramen before heading home.”

“I see,” Iruka said, his voice carefully controlled. “But I don’t understand what that does to explain the insults you levied against a student of this school.”

The woman blinked in mild confusion. “W-Well… given his u-unpleasantness, it’s only right to a-assume—”

“Assume what, exactly?”

A strange edge bled into Iruka’s voice. It wasn’t one I had ever heard from him before. The crowd slowly dispersed until it was only me, Ayame, Haruto, and his mother.

“Before you say anything that you’ll regret, I would have you know that the boy you are about to speak of is my student. I have witnessed what kind of person he is for several months and only come second to Ayame here in terms of understanding him.”

My mouth fell open against my will. The words were just so foreign coming out of his mouth. He barely had a kind word to say about me for months. Not that he had ever said an unkind word about me either, but the shift in behaviour smacked me right in the face.

Haruto’s mother scrambled into a boy. “M-My apologies, esteemed shinobi. I, uh, didn’t k-know – o-or intend to offend you or your…”

Her eyes widened when she saw her son standing right beside me. To his credit, Haruto stuck out his chin and stared right back.

“Attaboy,” I whispered before shushing his giggle.

“Ayame?” Iruka asked. “Is this something that needs to be elevated beyond an apology? I can do so if you wish, but it would save all involved the time and money if this could be settled with a formal apology.”

“I mean…” Her embarrassed gaze flicked over to me for an instant. “If Naruto’s cool with it, then so am I?”

For the first time, my teacher looked at me. And I mean really looked at me. None of the half-second glances or clouded stares he’d been levelling at me all year. I looked back, unsure of what to make of the sadness in his eyes.

“What do you say, Naruto?”

“Well…” Haruto tugged on my coat nervously. I blinked down at him, and then at his mother. “...I don’t see why an apology wouldn’t suffice, but could I talk to Mrs Takashi, first?”

He swept a hand in her direction and shuffled out of the way.

“Ma’am?”

She flinched.

“Why?”

“What do you mean,” she asked as the fear subsided.

“Why did you do it? I didn’t insult Haruto. I didn’t discourage him. Heck, I even encouraged him. He’s a pretty cute kid, you know? It’d be criminal for me to upset him!”

Haruto tittered from behind us, thawing the tension a little. His mother still looked hesitant, a whole host of complicated emotions pooling in her eyes and I realised almost immediately that this wouldn’t be an instant thing.

Maybe I’d succeeded in bridging some of the gap through her son, but so long as my reputation within the village remained as the Demon or the Fox Brat, I’d be having conversations like this all day.

“How about this?” I whispered. “You apologise and then go about the rest of the open day. Whether or not you choose to enrol Haruto next year is your choice, but don’t ruin this for him.”

She bit her lip, some cutting retort probably on the tip of her tongue until she saw his hopeful face and innocent grey eyes.

“I-I’m sorry… to the both of you.”

Ayame didn’t look convinced, but I stopped her from saying anything with a smile. It would only draw this out further. I nodded at Iruka, noticing that the odd sadness still hadn’t quite left his eyes.

“Mrs Takashi, I think that’s that. Feel free to enjoy the rest of the open day, but one more incident and I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

She gave a hasty bow and pulled Haruto behind her, though not before he could yell, “Bye, big bro!” over his shoulder. Iruka left as soon as they did, but the awkwardness was still heavy in the air.

“Naruto!” Ayame huffed, a thousand things burning in her brown eyes.

“Nope.”

She tried again but I ignored her incredulous gaze.

“Why?” She frowned, hand on hip. “That bitc— evil woman deserves so much worse than an apology!”

“I agree.” I raised my voice before she could get in another word. “BUT! Haruto didn’t deserve to see any of it. He’s like four, right? Something like that, anyway.”

Ayame chewed her lip. “But what about you, then? You’re a kid. You shouldn’t have to sit there and take fully grown adults treating you like that. You’re lucky Iruka was there this time. He’s a pretty nice guy, you know?”

Nice guy. Iruka wasn’t the first person who came to mind when I thought of a nice guy. I didn’t know what happened, but the change in heart was a welcome one. That was one less teacher to worry about – and provided Fujino didn’t escalate, the only person I’d have to worry about was Mizubayashi.

And honestly? His class was a breeze.

In no time at all – helped by the jingle playing constantly – the stream of customers had started once more. There were a lot more of them too since the open day was slowly coming to an end. Surprisingly, Haruto and his mother made a stop to buy some to-go for their whole family, which hadn’t mollified Ayame, but it was water under the bridge for me. The fact that Mr Teuchi promised both of us a decent split from the earnings certainly helped hasten the process.

Five minutes before closing time, the genin team returned, ready to take the cart back. I muffled a teary yawn as light snowflakes drifted on the breeze and melted on the sleeves of my jacket.

Winter would be over soon and if we were lucky, the coming spring term would finally introduce us to the wonders of chakra.