A strange new life

1.3

I was excited for my Academy days. Not going to lie about it. The main story didn’t cover the early days, but I knew there were a few important events here. Mostly related to Iruka-sensei and Naruto. It was pretty much agreed by most of the fandom the reason Naruto didn’t turn into a sociopath jerk was due to Iruka-sensei.

The crowd of parents in front of the academy was intimidating. I recognized some of them. The Akimichi clan were easy: all big, all chubby, spirals tattoo on the cheek. Even before graduation, Chouji hair style was funny. The Nara clan was also easy to spot: Shikamaru looked a lot like his father, the same slouch, the same hairstyle. I saw others as well. The Inuzuka clan, red fangs tattoo’s and the cute dogs.

Separated from the others, was the Uchiha clan. With their black hair and blue clothes. A small boy, accompanied a older woman, an older man, his mother and father, probably, and a teenager. A portly ninja talked with Uchiha father. The teenager turned and looked straight at me as soon my eyes landed on the family.

I looked away, scared. Itachi was freaking scary.

Ignoring all the looks directed my way, I walked inside the Academy, joined a growing crowd of children. Some of those I also knew, mostly by hair. Ino’s blonde ponytail, Sakura’s pink hair, Naruto’s blonde hair and orange clothes.

I had dressed for the occasion too. Skirts aren’t common among ninjas, but I liked them. I wanted to create my own style. If Naruto could wear orange jumpsuits, why couldn’t I wear skirts? I didn’t go overboard. Opentoed shinobi shoes, black stockings, shorts with a gamut of pockets to store stuff. The skirt went to my knees. I wore a black sleeveless shirt, with no symbols or adornment, and a open finger glove. Call me a weeb if you want. But I was already inside Naruto world. Leave me be.

It drew attention. Could have been my short cropped hair, or maybe the clothes. As I said, skirts aren’t common among ninja, or maybe it was the fact I was the dead Hyuga princess. No one approached me, which was fine.

The rest of the day wasn’t what I expected. After all parents left their children, a large man, with brown hair and a goatee walked in front of the children, the same man who talked with the Uchiha outside. He wore the forehead protector like a bandanna. Who was that? Where was Iruka-sensei?

We had to introduce ourselves, which was embarrassing, given I can’t speak. When the large man, Daikoku-sensei, pointed at me, I was prepared. I wrote down my name and raised my communication board.

“Hinata.” The man read out loud. More eyes turned to me. I forgot not every kid this age knows how to write, or even read. Oops? Thankfully, sensei didn’t linger, asked the next kid over to introduce himself. It was the same class, twenty seven students. Rookie 9 was still here. Aside from Iruka-sensei, nothing else had changed.

When thinking about academy, I expected gruesome training, constant spar, intense mental exercises. What I got was children games in the morning, and letters songs and shinobi stories in the afternoon. At first glance, it looked more like a nursery than a ninja academy. It made sense, we were five. I didn’t mind. I did my best to fit in, play the games, write the stories, mouth the songs.

At the end of the day, after all the other kids had left, I approached sensei. Daikoku was a jolly, patient man. I waved him.

“What is it, Hinata-chan?” The man asked, knelt, tousled my hair.

I froze a bit. I wasn’t expecting this kind of treatment. I soldiered on. I took my communication board, wrote what I needed. “I don’t know how to sense chakra. Can you teach me?”

Sensei stared at the board for a moment, scratched his goatee. Smiled. “Well, we don’t start teaching it until later years, you are not behind your peers.”

I nodded, that was fair, but still, I needed to learn. “Teach me, please?” I wrote.

Sensei nodded, sat down cross legged. “Why not,” he said. I copied his movements, sat down. The man extended his hand, white light burning on it. I felt it, hot and inviting. I wanted to—

“Can you feel this?” Sensei asked.

I blinked, surprised. Nodded. Wrote on my board. “Hot, cozy.”

Sensei read my words, burst out laughing, Hands holding his large belly. I didn’t know what was funny about what I wrote.

“Right, sorry.” Sensei said. “That’s good, everyone feels chakra a different way. That’s good.” Sensei tapped above his navel. Physical and spiritual energy are stored here,” tapped his heart, “and chakra is generated here.”

I nodded. I knew that one. The chakra pathway system, or meridians. The Hyuga clan was big on that, with their gentle fist style that mostly targeted meridians to block chakra flow. Hinata, unfortunately never really learned about it. And it wasn’t discussed as much in the story, but I knew the basics. The dantian stored physical and spiritual energy. The heart mixed both to produce chakra.

“Good.” Sensei said. “Close your eyes, try to feel the chakra inside you. It should be easy, your reserves are large.”

I noted Sensei’s phrasing. Was he a sensor type? I did as he asked. Closed my eyes, and tried to feel the chakra inside me. Time passed, not sure how long, but nothing. I opened my eyes, looked at sensei again. I could feel his chakra when he projected like that, but I didn’t know how to feel my own. I shook my head. Wrote on my board.

“I don’t know what to do.” I admitted.

“That’s alright, dear.” Sensei scratched his chin. “We can try something else, if you want. Usually done between family…” Sensei trailed off, looked away.

I shrugged. I didn’t have a family. A small part of me cried inside. I nodded. “Please?”

The man nodded. “Give me your hand, and close your eyes.”

I did as instructed. Put my hand over his. Closed my eyes. It started like hot water in my hands, rushing up my arm and spreading through my whole body. If I hadn’t sensed it early, and know it was Sensei’s chakra, I would probably have panicked. I clamped down on my fear, sensei’s chakra leaving warm lines wherever it passed. It spread through my whole body, dividing into several strands, each pursuing a different path. They converged on my heart, where sensei said chakra was generated. Things changed when sensei’s chakra entered that place.

Like a beast sleeping, I felt it. My own chakra awakening, stirring. Like a storm, a ravenous beast, it attacked the foreign chakra, glomping it up, slurping it like noodles. Faster than I could process, it spread through my whole body, eating sensei’s chakra.

Sensei yelped, broke the connection a few moments before my chakra had reached the source. I opened my eyes. Sensei panted, sweat dripping from his brows. I, on the other hand, felt alive, full of energy. A new sense spread around me. I could feel it, the bundle of warmth inside Sensei. Nearby, past the wall, I could feel others. Bigger, small. Hot, cold, breezy. So many textures and types and smells. My hand moved toward Sensei, toward the bundle of inviting energy on his belly, but the man had gotten up.

“Well, that was certainly interesting.” Sensei had a chagrined expression. Like he had done something he shouldn’t have.

I blinked, distracted. The chakra inside me slowed down. Returned to it’s sleeping place, but it slumbered no more. I could feel it. I willed my chakra move, and it filled the same pathways sensei chakra had filled just a few moments ago.

I picked up my board. My hands moved faster than I expected. “I can feel it.” I wrote, showed sensei.

“That’s awesome.” The man beamed. He had already recomposed himself. He looked tired.

I wiped the previous words, wrote others. “Thank you sensei.” I showed the man the board, bowed after he read it.

His smile, which had been strained, softened. He tousled my non existent hair. I pouted. He laughed. I left the academy and returned home.