The camp had been strangely peaceful since yesterday, a calm made even heavier by the arrival of the legendary shinobi Minato Namikaze—the golden boy, the inspiration for half the kids dreaming of glory.
Walking the usual beaten path toward his tent, Shuichi absentmindedly took a few bites from the skewer an older chunin had grilled for him and a handful of others.
"Maybe I should've grabbed one for Osamu... Whatever. His fault for staying holed up in that stingy little tent," Shuichi muttered, mouth half-full.
"Oi, is that Shuichi?! Rin, look—it's that cat guy!"
A voice like nails on a chalkboard assaulted Shuichi's ears.
The source? Obito Uchiha.
Next to him, Rin Nohara, trying and failing to hold back a smile.
The two made their way toward him, Obito waving like an idiot.
"How you been, Rin? Oh—and Obito, go fuck yourself," Shuichi greeted, deadpan.
"What the hell, man?! It's been ages and that's the first thing you say?!" Obito wailed, clutching his heart like he was dying. Rin let out a soft laugh behind her hand.
"Anyway," Rin said, recovering, "is Dazai here too? Weren't you two on the same team? What happened?"
"Eh, nothing much. Muzuki managed to screw us all over in our jonin's test. Wasn't even hard—just a simple mystery-solving mission. Find a hidden scroll, easy stuff." Shuichi shrugged like it was nothing.
"Really? Man, I would've thought it was Dazai's fault. He's the dead-last, right?" Obito said, the words slipping out way too casually.
Shuichi's face twitched, struggling to keep his cool.
"Obito... you were worse, so you can't say shit."
He closed his eyes for a second, visibly forcing himself not to lose it.
"I mean," Obito pushed on like an idiot, "Dazai did fail a lot. Even I did better! And man, he was creepy back then—"
"Yeah, whatever you say, Obito," Shuichi cut him off, voice dripping with disdain. "You're literally the biggest creep here. Talk to me when you stop dreaming about a medic-nin who doesn't even see you, you little short-ass."
Obito's face turned crimson. He lunged forward, grabbing Shuichi's collar.
"Shuichi, you bastard! Take that back!"
The two locked eyes with all the petty aggression only teenage boys could summon over absolute nonsense.
At that exact moment, Osamu pushed open the flaps of his tent, as if summoned by the universe's bad sense of humor, Kakashi finally showed up too, hands shoved deep into his pockets, eyeing the chaos with that usual deadpan boredom.
The two youths—a hunter and a ghost—pushed against each other, the tension thick enough to choke on.
Their dojutsus flared to life almost at the same time.
Shuichi's eyes shifted first—his irises lightening into a yellowish hue, his pupils stretching and slitting like a cat's. Veins surfaced around the edges of his eyes as chakra surged into them, wild and fast.
Obito's onyx-black eyes bled into crimson, a single tomoe forming like a curse mark on the blood-red canvas of his Sharingan.
The two crouched slightly, muscles tensing, ready to lunge—
—but before either could move, they were stopped.
Kakashi casually rested a hand on Obito's shoulder, a silent weight pinning him down.
Osamu stepped right between them, blocking the collision, expression unreadable.
"Calm down, Obito," Kakashi said, his voice smooth and cold, like a blade across ice.
"But—he started it!" Obito barked, pointing at Shuichi like an offended child.
"Nah, you did," Shuichi snapped back, "being a dickhead, as usual."
Rin let out a small sigh and said, voice reprimanding and firm,
"Come on, Obito. Apologize to Shuichi—and Oasmu while you're at it. You were the one running your mouth."
"Rin—but... but... ugh, whatever. Sorry, my bad," Obito grumbled, scowling but relenting under the weight of everyone's stares.
Shuichi clicked his tongue but didn't press it further.
"When did you guys even get here? I thought your team wasn't supposed to arrive for another week," Shuichi asked, finally letting the tension bleed out of his voice.
"Minato-sensei," Kakashi answered simply, his usual monotone as sharp and dry as ever.
"Ah, that makes sense," Shuichi said, nodding.
Osamu, sensing the air still buzzing with leftover sparks, flashed a lazy grin, his voice slipping into something smooth and easy.
"Alright, alright. Why don't we all just cool it, yeah? We're not enemies here. No point in wasting energy scrapping like wild dogs when we could be sleeping like kings. C'mon—everyone back to your nests. I'm dead on my feet, and I don't plan on dying twice in one day."
There was a beat of silence—and then, slowly, a few chuckles broke out. Even Shuichi let a snort slip.
With the tension finally defused, the small group began drifting off, the once-charged air now mellow, tired laughter trailing behind them into the night.