Chapter Text
Act two, scene one.
Setting: the outskirts of Kiri.
The curtain lifts.
An expanse of blue and gray, a veil of mist that stretches on for as long as the eyes can see. There is nothing here but the grandness of Kiri, its currents and its waters.
A shinobi from Konoha stands. He gazes at the familiar scenery, akin to that of a dream.
But he knows it was not a dream.
The tanto weighs heavy upon his back. He wants to burn this scenery into his eyes.
The curtains have risen.
Uchiha Obito’s jounin exam begins.
Minato would not say that he’s worried, per say, but he would not say that he’s particularly settled either. While the Mizukage is liable to play nice for now, it’s clear enough that the upcoming Kiri exam promises to be a deadly gambit.
If he could choose, Obito would take the jounin exam here: atop Konoha soil. But he cannot choose, Obito is no longer his student, and the Uchiha clan is not to be trifled with. This is one of those matters that Minato cannot push, because Obito is willing, and therefore there is no complaint to be worked at.
It doesn’t stop the worry from building, though. Nor does it stop Kushina’s ire.
Kushina is not happy about this decision, but she could do little to stop it from happening either. Obito had waved off her concerns with a smile and a laugh, a reassurance of, “It’ll be alright” and “Once I make jounin, I’ll come back and we can all celebrate”. Minato wonders if Obito believes half the words he’s saying, he wonders if it matters at all.
Kakashi never participated in a jounin exam. It was a promotion, granted during wartime as it were. And Kakashi became a jounin just as naturally as he became a chuunin. He was twelve, going on thirteen, and Minato remembered it- how proud Kakashi was, how pleased. He remembers the curl of Kakashi’s lips beneath his mask, the satisfied glint in his eyes.
Kakashi was awfully proud of it, his skill as a shinobi, his advancement beyond his peers.
He was always proud of how much faster he outpaced them all, how he could run and run and run and they’d all have to look at his back.
If he kept running, maybe he could’ve outran it all- his past, his father’s death- everything, anything.
But his run had stopped at twelve. He did not turn thirteen, and Minato did not manage to protect him.
He had died, crushed beneath the rocks, they say. Iwa’s shinobi, they had said.
Minato had wished then, as he had placed both his arms around Rin and Obito’s shaken figure, that he had killed more than a thousand of them.
He thought about the way Kakashi’s skin must’ve given into the falling rocks, the way his bones must’ve been crushed, the way his blood must’ve painted the confines of the harsh casket he found himself in. He thought of Kakashi’s dying moments, the agony that he must’ve felt, the fear, the regret, the quiet, dawning resignation. He thought of Kakashi- so, so young, and so, so small. He thought of Kakashi, twelve turning thirteen, preening just a mere few days ago over making jounin, looking up at Minato as though asking for praise despite never parting his lips to ask.
He thought of Kakashi, six turning seven, his apprentice. He was only a boy then, not yet even a teen. He was small then, too, small and young. His stance was all bravado, his distance- a mere facade.
He had looked at Minato then, and he had called him his teacher. It was in a dry, drab tone. The kind that you could tell Kakashi didn’t really care for Minato, but he would make do. Minato had thought it amusing.
Sensei, so it goes, as Kakashi held up Tora, unimpressed with the mission he’s been assigned.
Sensei, so it goes, as Kakashi hummed and hawed over the latest seal that Minato had made, bemused but impressed.
Sensei, so it goes, as Kakashi made chuunin, looking up at Minato with dull eyes that seeked praise- eyes that lit up when Minato smiled and gave him his due.
Sensei, so it goes, the wretched call of a boy upon his father’s death anniversary- still so strong and yet so fractured.
Sensei, so it goes, Kakashi upon his last mission, jounin and proud, the world upon his shoulders and a pride that shaped his spine.
Sensei, Kakashi would call, and Minato would always answer.
He had thought, once upon a time, as he looked upon that genius of a boy- six turning seven, that he would protect him until he’s grown. That he would protect him until the day that Kakashi was old and grown.
He had thought, once upon a time, that it wouldn’t be bad to protect Hatake Kakashi for the rest of his life if it meant that Kakashi would live just one more day and call him his teacher one more time.
And, once upon a time, Hatake Kakashi had died, and his teacher was not there to protect him.
He would never know how Kakashi would call out for him upon his dying moments- he does not know whether it would be the same tough facade Kakashi has made a home of throughout all these years, he does not know whether it would be the quiet of suppressed pain-
He does not know whether it would be a quiet, soft cry for comfort that cannot be given.
He does not know, he will never know.
Maybe it is for the best that he does not know. Minato knows that it is the rational thing. It is best to live without knowing your student’s last words. Without knowing how Hatake Kakashi’s corpse looked, crushed and torn.
Now Minato only has two students left, but they aren’t his anymore.
Rin is under Kushina’s tutelage, Obito is under the Uchiha’s watch.
Maybe it’s for the best.
He looks towards Konoha’s closed gates, Obito has long departed.
The Kiri jounin exam awaits.
Act two, scene four.
Setting: The scene of the taboo. The rain falls.
What did you do, Obito?
Kiri, a nation surrounded by the waves and mist.
It is a desolate, cold land compared to Konoha. It is a land painted in strokes of blues and grays, blending together into a portrait of a withering reticence. It is the picture of calm, austerity. The waves are the purest shade of blue, enchanting and quiet. The mist covers everything in a veil of white, as though a scene from a faded painting.
It would almost be a beautiful sight, Jiraiya thinks. It would be beautiful, if only it wasn’t so easy to recall how quick the waves could turn red and the mist could bleed scarlet.
It is Kiri’s natural terrain, it is where Kiri shinobi thrives. They lurk beneath the currents, within the veil of the mist.
Every major nation has their hunting ground.
Iwa, the complex, rocky terrain; Suna, the treacherous desert; Kumo, the large, tall swathes of mountain ranges; Konoha, their forest.
And this is Kiri’s.
Their natural terrain is often a village’s last line of defense, and often their most vicious. It is where the most shinobi die, if they reach it at all. It is where shinobi fight the hardest for their village, it is where desperate dogs bite the hardest, and it is where their bite tears the most.
Nightmares are made from these beautiful, distinct sceneries.
Kiri was one of the worst to come out of that war. A village that was not only torn from the outside, but with tensions brewing from within as well. Perhaps it was even in a worse state than Suna was- for at least while Suna was poverty-stricken, it was not in the midst of a bloody, brutal civil war that was tearing the nation apart.
It was ironic, Jiraiya had thought, as he listened to one of his many contacts. A whole war was fought, and yet, it would be Kiri itself that would bring about its own ruin.
A whole war, and for what?
A whole war, so many dead, so many swallowed by the waves- all of that fight, that desperation, and for what?
For this sad, pathetic ending?
The other nations, of course, had all had a hand later in pushing Kiri towards its ruin. Konoha took part, too, of course. It would perhaps destabilize the power between the five- but it doesn’t hurt to take a gander at Kiri while it was down. One can never be too vicious with an enemy, and it would be good if this crippled Kiri in some way in preparation for the next great shinobi war.
(No one wants to say it, of course, but no one needs to say it.
It is almost an inevitability. It is not a question of ‘if’, only ‘when’.
Peace is only a temporary thing, none of the people sitting at the negotiation table believes otherwise. People are fickle, nations are ravenous, power often needs to be re-established.
In this game, there is never an end. There will never be an end until a nation is sated- and it can never be sated until it consumes everything else.
And so they will run in circles, they will wait, then something will inevitably happen- something, anything at all is enough for the fire to be set and for it to be fanned until no one can control it any longer- and then they will pounce once more- they will remind each other of their might, their lethality.
They will then speak to each other in the language they all have in common: war.
They will fight, and they will all fight to establish themselves as the apex of the world. They will fight, and they will have made peace a distant memory. They will kill peace with their own two hands, they will remind each other what violence means- they will improve upon the last war they’ve fought, become more efficient with it- become better at it, killing.
They will fight, and they will dye the world red once more.
When it is all over, when they’re all licking at their own wounds and eyeing everyone else’s- they will smile, they will shake each other’s hand, and then they will say that this peace shall last.
And then, they shall wait for the next war to come.
Perhaps between the three of them, it was Jiraiya who chased after the most impossible thing of all.)
The situation was truly dire for Kiri, then. The whole world was watching, waiting for Kiri’s eventual ruin and decay. One less enemy to worry about, one less nation to bother with.
Yet, the new Mizukage was inaugurated- and, against all expectations, against all odds- the waves quieted, the mist grew gentle.
So here they all stand now in front of Kiri’s towering gates, a witness to Kiri’s rebirth from the ashes of decay.
(Cynically, Jiraiya wonders how much harder this dog will bite in the next war.
Perhaps he’ll get his answer soon, once he meets the fabled Mizukage.)
There are plenty of others around Kiri’s gates, lined up to gain entry to the great village. It is a much longer line than Jiraiya’s last visit. Last time Jiraiya was here, the people were trying to get out, not in.
There are shinobi from various origins, Jiraiya can classify them into several groups- mainly those of the major villages, and some from the minor ones. The participants to this year’s jounin exam are indeed quite lacking from the major villages, fewer than the average at least. Though it is as Jiraiya would’ve expected, considering the tensions that still belays every interaction between the five and Kiri’s long standing reputation.
Though, as few as the numbers are, it is indeed still a respectable sum. A sign of the respect to the Mizukage, perhaps, or it is to placate the Daimyo. Either way, it is still a good enough number and with competent enough shinobi that they won’t be humiliating to their own villages.
None of the shinobi in front of Jiraiya looks pleased to be here, though some has covered it better than others. It is understandable, considering what Kiri is known for. Its tournaments, and Suna’s, have always been unpopular destinations. Suna’s- for its deadly desert that few shinobi other than those born of Suna know how to navigate. And Kiri’s for its sheer swathes of water that few know how to survive or find their way across.
Jiraiya wonders how many will die in this year’s exam. A respectable number of the lot, perhaps.
He glances at his own group. Konoha’s hitai-ate upon their person and its green tinted cloak draped around their form. Some have pulled down their hood while others have only further dipped their head down into its cover.
Minato’s student stands near his group- a team of three that was cobbled together and nothing more. It is a team composed of the Uchiha boy, another one of his clansmen, and a civilian that seems to feel little for his two temporary teammates. In fact, none of them looks particularly charmed by the other, not even the two Uchiha. If anything, the tension between them is almost palpable. It is a tense, drawn thing- wherein neither of them looks at each other, the Uchiha boy’s expression is flat, mirroring his clansmen, his lips drawn into a thin, tight line that’s meant to be a smile but doesn’t quite pass- it is a far cry from the smiling boy in Minato’s team picture.
Smiles came easily to Uchiha Obito, or so Jiraiya had heard. It doesn’t seem to be the case now, though Jiraiya can’t fault the boy for the circ*mstances of it. It is a jounin exam in Kiri, with a team that’s closer to strangers than companions.
But those were the circ*mstances, Uchiha Obito could not be with his original team.
It is clear why, one is dead, the other can never step foot in Kiri.
The jinchuuriki girl- Nohara- isn’t fit to appear in Kiri, not with the situation being what it is, let alone the beast’s chakra not yet being under her control. Before it all, she was a clear candidate with her expertise in the medical arts. But now with the change she had undergone, it’s clear to Jiraiya that the best path the girl could take would be to become a frontline combatant.
(No jinchuuriki can be trained as a medic-nin, let alone excel in it. Their chakra would be far too chaotic, and their prowess would be better suited for destruction than restoration.
It is tragic, but Konoha had lost a future competent medic-nin in exchange for a jinchuuriki, it is a good trade, all considered.)
The Uchiha, too, has clear potential to become one of Konoha’s most deadly frontline shinobi if the trajectory of his growth changes a bit.
So far, he’s only extraordinary as far as his eyes go. Jiraiya has looked at the boy’s records- painfully mediocre, but there is potential here. Whether the boy can come to utilize it is another question entirely- one that the Uchiha clan has grown sick of waiting for the answer, it seems- as the boy is now here in Kiri.
(If only the third of Minato’s students were alive, that boy would have definitely lived up to his potential.
Hatake Kakashi was almost drowning in his talent. He was brilliant even as a child, and he would’ve been devastating in his prime. He was the one out of the three that Jiraiya had put the most stock in, the one that should’ve gone on to become something.
But war is fickle, and talent didn’t matter when things went awry.
So Hatake Kakashi died, and now all that’s left behind of his talents are his two struggling teammates. Nowhere near as talented, gifted with potential that is far too overwhelming for them to wield.
It is a grand pity. There’s always a genius in every generation, someone that excels more than their peers. For Jiraiya- it was Orochimaru’s, then in the generation after, it was Minato. Then, it was Hatake Kakashi.
Hatake Kakashi would’ve been great, but he is dead, and he will never be anything again.
Hatake Kakashi died at twelve, and what a pity it is, to never be able to witness a genius in his prime.)
Uchiha Obito is around fifteen- near to sixteen, the chance for his potential manifesting itself is growing slimmer. The older they grow, the lesser chance of them becoming something- and for the sake of them all, Jiraiya hopes that the boy becomes something. There’s never enough talent to be had, never enough competent shinobi to go around. And with the genius of the generation gone, someone will have to step up into the role- whether it be the jinchuuriki girl or the Uchiha boy or both. Someone will have to fill the gap, someone will have to become the face of their generation. It is a spot that can not go unfilled. Especially when each nation is scrambling to establish themselves in this new peaceful world. There is no better way to establish themselves than through their next batch of talent, the ones that are to come after-
The ones that are to lead the next war.
He glances at Uchiha Obito, fifteen going on sixteen, gangly limbs and growing body- soon to grow into adulthood- his prime is still some ways off, but that isn’t entirely too far either.
Now that Hatake Kakashi has fallen, only Nohara Rin is noteworthy enough to be on the betting table.
Now the jounin exam has arrived, and it is time for Uchiha Obito to show his mettle. To show whether he’s worthy to stand next to his teammates and be the one to bet for.
He is Minato’s student, Jiraiya trusts that there can be some talent wrung out of him yet. It is only the question of whether he is willing, and whether he can handle it.
Uchiha Obito is studying the gates of Kiri, not with trepidation, but with a hint of anticipation- as though whatever he wants is just lurking beyond those gates.
“Your paperwork has been sorted,” the Kiri shinobi says amicably, a smile upon their lips that doesn’t quite reach their eyes. But it is a far warmer reception than the last time Jiraiya had been here.
Jiraiya hums, taking back the papers that have now been stamped and sorted, the rest of his group does the same. He only has with him three teams from Konoha, with three jounin accompanying them. No other team looks particularly promising from this batch, though Jiraiya thinks that at least one or two can be good enough for a showing if nothing else.
He eyes Uchiha Obito and his cousin.
Uchiha Obito’s eyes flicker towards him, on accident, perhaps, the boy blinks, then smiles awkwardly. His eyes move from Jiraiya back to Kiri’s gates, now opening to allow them entry.
For the sake of himself, and for the sake of Konoha, Jiraiya hopes that Uchiha Obito finds whatever it is he’s looking for, and quickly.
Act one, scene two.
Setting: a bland office.
He gazes out into the expanse of the window, towards the oncoming shinobi from Kiri.
They are covered in the veil of mist, blurring their features.
But there is no mistake.
Why are you here, Obito?
The days leading up to the jounin exam are spent waiting in tense silence.
Genma would think that he’d gotten used to this voracious anticipation. The wait, the feeling of something building up and awaiting a slight flicker to set off. It runs through his veins all the same, electric and exciting.
Electric and terrifying.
It is Kiri’s jounin exam, after all. Infamous for its brutality and lethality, but all the more promising for it. See, if you somehow make it through the second stage- it’s basically a done deal. It’s because of the lethality rate that those that make it through the survival stages just need to be competent enough in the final stages to be promoted.
Genma has heard of it all. The jounin exam varies from the chuunin’s. No one needs to test your information gathering skills or any of that tripe, each village varies in what they test, and for Konoha, it’s leadership.
In Konoha, the last exam they held was made to scramble the teams around and tossed into a survival round, made to work with one another- then they’d really study who’d make for an effective leader, and who didn’t. It was a near disaster. Shinobi from different nations don’t work well together, political differences notwithstanding. Iwa shinobi thinks Konoha shinobi are too soft, Suna shinobi thinks that the whole world is out to get them, Konoha shinobi thinks that Kiri shinobi will murder them in their sleep, everyone is worried about bloodline thefts with the Kumo nin. It’s a thing, a big- terrible mess that wasn’t particularly lethal but was known for its high failure rates.
The second stage was a straightforward tournament combat stage, same teams, and therefore same mess. No one wants to show too much of their hand, and no one trusts anyone else with their backs. So again, disaster unless they’ve got some genius leader handling them.
Every other village is near the same principle- albeit varying testing methods and passing rates, aside from Kiri and Suna. they’re always the odd ones out.
But at least with Kiri it’s simple. Here’s Kiri's simple test: just survive. Kiri doesn’t care about the leadership crap. What Kiri cares about is simple: whether you’ve got what it takes to last in a war. Might make right in Kiri, and that’s all there is to it.
It makes for a brutal exam, but one that can be passed if you’re willing to put your life on the line for it.
Genma takes a look at everyone here, and he can say this:
Everyone here is willing to put their lives on the line for it.
They’ve all got a reason for it. Genma doesn’t know enough to know the specifics. But there’s a reason all of them are in Kiri now, vying for the possible most lethal exam since Suna’s. They’ve all got their reasons, and their own means.
And at least in Kiri, they’ll all be working with shinobi from their own village.
It’s a boon, if nothing else. At least you can trust your fellow Konoha shinobi to not stab you in the back come night.
Well, Genma wouldn’t be too sure about that part when it comes to one of the teams here.
Or, well, two shinobi here.
He glances at the two Uchiha sitting some distances away from each other in the dining hall. As far away from each other as possible. Which is terribly odd, considering how tight knit that particular clan is. Genma hasn’t seen two separate Uchiha ever since his academy days, always one hanging about the other.
But then again, it shouldn’t be a surprise considering who Uchiha Obito is.
The Hyuuga is sitting closer to Uchiha Hikaku than his own cousin is. That’s saying a lot, considering how much the Hyuuga and Uchiha hate each other. The conflict that their clan heads get into has spanned for generations, and it isn’t looking to stop anytime soon. If it were possible, Genma would be betting on when the clan heads would inevitably start duking with fists rather than words.
The Hyuuga and Uchiha Hikaku are getting along well enough, though, for two people from clans that are mortal enemies. They sit in silence, as expected from Konoha’s two most reticent clans. Uchiha Obito, though, is making small talk with the other candidates in his own bubble. There’s a small group around him, not particularly talking up to him like how Genma would see civilians talking up to other Uchiha shinobi, but talking at him- as one would a peer, or would someone below that.
Uchiha Obito is fifteen, younger than Genma is, and also younger than his cousin- but somehow the two Uchiha have found themselves here and on the same team, even if they hate it.
It is odd, considering. But then again, the Uchiha clan has never particularly liked Uchiha Obito. It’s not like that’s a big secret. Everyone their age sort of knows the deal, Uchiha Obito is just the Uchiha that doesn’t quite fit. Even their academy instructor knows it. Uchiha Obito just isn’t cut from the same cloth as his kin.
He’s a good kid, Genma’s seen him running around Konoha helping grandmas and whatever else- but he’s not a good shinobi like his clansmen are. He’s clumsy, barely coordinated, has a mouth that can bark for all its worth but none of the strength to back that up. He’s an eternal chuunin if Genma’s ever seen it.
He got lucky with his team, though. One solid medic-nin and one resident genius all the while being under the guidance of the then not-yet Hokage Namikaze Minato. If there’s one thing you can’t say that Uchiha Obito did badly with, it was his team. Almost made it through the whole war together, too. But unfortunately one of them bit the dirt a bit earlier. It wasn’t the one anyone expected either.
They don’t do bets about that kind of stuff- too macabre and disrespectful. But hell, if there were bets, Uchiha Obito would be way in the running for most likely to have died early compared to his two teammates.
But he was the one that came out of the war alive alongside Nohara Rin, and Hatake Kakashi was the one that died. Funny how that works. Genma still remembers that genius, Hatake Kakashi, one of a kind they had said.
Hatake Kakashi was briefly in Genma’s class way back in the day before being moved up the rank according to his talents. And he had long graduated and went under an apprenticeship before Genma had even become a genin. They didn’t have any interaction, but Genma would say that the Hatake kid was something special, from his talent right down to his personality. He got something going on, alright, and he would’ve been someone to watch out for if he grew up older than twelve.
And truth be told, that Hatake kid would've made for a better Uchiha if he wasn’t born with shock wild silver hair. He’s got everything else off the list: dark eyes, enough talent to choke on, and enough disdain and sternness to make everyone stay clear and stay put. From how Genma and every kid their age sees it, Hatake and Uchiha got their kids swapped. Maybe some kind of mistake from the gods or whatnot, but the Hatake kid should’ve been born to the Uchiha clan and Uchiha Obito should’ve not.
Maybe if the Hatake kid was an Uchiha, he wouldn’t be dead. But he is, and Uchiha Obito survived. Got a Sharingan out of it, too, apparently.
But whether that Sharingan can get Uchiha Obito to pass the upcoming jounin exam is another question entirely. Now, if it were Genma, he wouldn’t put his bets on it. It’s Uchiha Obito, after all. But hey, it would be interesting to see an upset. Uchiha Hikaku is awfully arrogant and it’d be nice to see him get upstaged by his cousin.
Genma wouldn’t be surprised if the two Uchiha got into a spat at the survival stage. He wouldn't be surprised at all if one of them came out with a wound or two inflicted from Konoha steel. Not at all.
He can only hope that none of them will die. It’s not like he’s particularly close to them. But hell, even for how much he isn’t compatible with Uchiha Hikaku, it’s not like he wants the guy dead. And Uchiha Obito, well, he’s a good kid- would be a shame for someone like that to die here. Honestly, Genma doesn’t even know why the kid’s here taking the upcoming jounin exam. He’d be better off waiting a few years and sharpening his skills. He’s got plenty of time, he’s still only fifteen, that’s like half a shinobi’s lifespan but hey, with peacetime maybe he’ll squeak out a few more years before getting out.
Whatever, it’s not like it’s Genma’s business what Uchiha kids do with their lives.
Uchiha Obito chooses this moment to stand, taking with him the tray that he’s emptied of food. He smiles, makes a few small talk here and there with his peers before he leaves the table.
“Heading out again?” Genma asks.
Uchiha Obito’s eyes slide down to meet him, his expression is still for a moment- caught between a smile and something else. He eventually settles on a smile.
“Yeah, something like that,” Uchiha Obito replies casually. His voice is all boyish and boisterous, two things that are liable to getting him killed. “Kiri has some pretty sights.”
What’s pretty about it? Genma thinks sardonically. All that’s pretty about it is how red the blood will be that’ll stain the waters. But whatever, it’s not like it’s any of his business how Uchiha Obito chooses to spend his time before the exams.
“Don’t get lost,” Genma says, a light warning from one Konoha shinobi to another.
“Don’t worry, if I do get lost- someone will find me.”
Uchiha Obito smiles, it is a bright thing.
Genma hopes that whatever he finds in the mist, it’ll be pretty enough to be worth the trip.
Act one, scene six.
Uchiha Obito and Uchiha Hikaku. Those were the files submitted to the Mizukage’s desk, one of many of the participants that is to partake in the jounin exam.
The files on them are both sparse, as expected. Just enough information required, and no more than that.
He gazes out the large, expansive window towards the rolling clouds.
Tomorrow will be the day where the exam begins in earnest.
If nothing else, they are cousins, so it ought to be fine.
And yet.
Something is building within his gut, a sick, twisting poison.
The clouds dance, the mist rests.
Misfortune awaits.
“I see that everyone’s here, good,” Jiraiya states, standing near the entrance to Kiri’s first stage of the exam. From the information he’s been given- nothing more than a formality in information gathering. Nothing to worry about on that front, and there’s no dangers to be wary of. “I don’t have much to say, really, but good luck to all of you. Remember that you’re all shinobi of Konoha.” With a smile, he waves them off casually. They nod, the tension evident within their frayed limbs and straying eyes. But nevertheless, they enter.
He watches them depart into Kiri’s jounin exam.
Again, the first stage isn’t something to be worried about. If they fail, so be it. They won’t be losing their lives over it.
But, oh, it’s the second stage that is going to be the one to be feared.
A survival stage, with the backdrop being that of Kiri’s deadly and chaotic terrain. With little to no surveillance, just enough to know who has survived and made it through to the end, and who has not.
In essence, it is a free for all. Kiri has never particularly cared for anything else. All that matters is survival. It did not matter to Kiri what you had to do for it. All that matters is that you reach the end. This time, it is a scroll collection type of test- wherein teams would have to pilfer from others and the one to gain the most, would get the most leave when the third stage- the tournament comes, with those gathering the least having to fight multiple stages in order to reach the finale.
Without it needing to be said, it is clear enough that whichever team that accumulates the most scroll in this stage will be promoted to jounin- and the rest will be fighting for scraps come the third stage. It is a simple process, if nothing else.
Might makes right, and Kiri’s exam is a symbol of its beliefs. So ingrained within its waters that even now, even after its restoration and reformation, this is still its core tenet.
Jiraiya sees it in the people of Kiri. They’re different now compared to the last time he’s been. They’re more calm now, tamed. The streets have rebuilt itself from ruins and Kiri is prospering once more. The inevitable collapse of the long-established caste of Kiri has started to be chipped at by the new Mizukage. It is a slow going process, as expected, but Jiraiya had never expected it to be started at all.
It is something long ingrained into Kiri, intertwined with it just as much as the mist and waters are. And yet here they are.
Kiri’s caste was always one of its weaknesses. Yes, it was a strength in that it promoted order, but it was, at the same time, promoting dissent. It was a perilous situation to begin with- with how unstable it made Kiri. It was how Kiri found itself fighting a war on multiple fronts during the last shinobi war. Not just a war with outside forces, but those from within as well. A war that had carried on, even after peace was announced.
It was a weakness that has long been molded into Kiri’s very being. It had begun since Kiri’s conception, and it was looking to remain until Kiri’s downfall.
No Mizukage had ever seen fit to change it. They were, more often than not, beneficiaries of the caste. It would be more trouble than it was worth to change an already working system. Let alone the complaints they’d face by those of the upper caste and the nobles of the Daimyo’s court. It was a logistical nightmare that no Mizukage had wanted to tackle, let alone have reason to in the first place.
But the newest Mizukage had seen fit to change it.
An unpopular move with those of the upper caste, but remarkably popular to the general populace.
From what Jiraiya had gathered, the political turmoil when the Mizukage had begun enacting change had been a vicious one. The man is still facing assassination attempts to this day. Though it doesn’t seem to bother him much, if anything- it only serves to reinforce his strength and determination in the populace’s eyes.
One of the most controversial changes was passed recently, a change in the curriculum of the academy for those of the lower caste. The Mizukage had changed the curriculum to better mirror what those of the upper caste are taught. It did cause quite a turmoil in Kiri from what Jiraiya had heard.
The consequences are still playing out, albeit the tension has been quelled since their attempt at trying to strongarm the Mizukage had fallen through.
With the Daimyo’s backing, there is little that the Mizukage can’t do.
It is an honor that not even the Hokage has. Of course, their Daimyo respects Minato just fine, but he isn’t as permissive to Minato as the Water Daimyo is to the Mizukage.
It begs the question of what the Daimyo had seen in the Mizukage, and what the Mizukage will do with the boon he has been given.
Questions that will hopefully be answered once they meet. Though the time of their meeting is not until the third stage, wherein they are to convene upon the balcony as they watch upon the tournament that is to take place. The Mizukage had preferred their meeting to take place there, Jiraiya isn’t one to question a Kage’s authority.
It will be fun, then, to pick at the man’s brain for what might be useful to Konoha. But not now, not yet.
Jiraiya glances back at the entrance to find Uchiha Obito near the entrance, waiting to enter, his head turned upwards and towards something in the distance.
Jiraiya turns his head to match, and there it is-
The Mizukage’s office, looming in the distance. It is where the Mizukage must be, around this time of day.
When he glances back, Uchiha Obito is no longer looking.
Act one, scene three.
Setting: the idle streets of Kiri.
It is not as he remembered it last to be. It is no longer raining, he is walking alone, and there is no boy to accompany him through the harsh rain of Kiri.
The clear sky and cheerful merchants seem to mock him.
He walks forth regardless, the rain no longer here to accompany him- nor a boy that he is sure must not be of his imagination. He walks forth into the cold of Kiri. He walks, following a path that he has not tread through for a long, long time and yet can recall the steps to perfectly. He walks through this familiar path, only the cold of Kiri’s mist settling upon his bottle.
The tanto sits upon his back, a warm weight.
He makes his way through Kiri’s bountiful streets, into the quiet of its outskirts. He walks around, mindful to not stray too far away from where he is expected to remain.
He walks and he walks and he walks-
And no one accompanies him.
He makes his way back to where he is supposed to stay. Some of the other candidates eye him curiously for a moment but their gazes do not linger. He is nothing to worry about, nothing to care for.
“Was it pretty?” One of them- Shiranui maybe- asks, quirking a dry brow.
“It was,” Obito replies. But not pretty enough. It’s not like his memories, not like his dreams.
It’s not enough.
Maybe it is because he has not gotten lost.
Maybe it is because he has not yet cried out Kakashi’s name.
Maybe that is so.
“... watch yourself.” Quiet murmurs, breaking through the quiet of the halls. No one should be out here right now, not when the first stage of the exam is about to begin. But nevertheless, there is someone there, lurking in a forgotten corner of the halls, just out of sight and hearing for most of the prospective jounin candidates.
Genma just so happens to be fortunate, or, well, unfortunate enough to bear witness to this sad display.
“Yeah,” Uchiha Obito replies, a quiet acknowledgement. His voice lacks any of the fire, the fight, that it once held. Genma remembered it back then- loud kid, couldn’t miss him and his declaration of how he’ll be Hokage one day. There was plenty of fire in that voice. Now it’s been quelled into nothing but wet ash. “I won’t get in your way.”
Uchiha Hikaku just scoffs, disdain evident. It’s clear enough that Uchiha Hikaku held little goodwill for his cousin. The sentiment is returned.
“You just don’t get it,” Uchiha Hikaku spits back. His voice is a cold, discordant melody. Uchiha Obito seems to flinch at the sound of it, Genma wouldn’t blame the kid. “Why did you even come here?”
Genma hears the small shuffling of fabric, a shrug, perhaps.
“The elders told me to,” Uchiha Obito admits.
Uchiha Hikaku clicks his tongue.
“Their eyes truly have grown dim,” Uchiha Hikaku snaps. “But enough, just keep out of my way and let’s not drag this on any longer after this.”
“Yeah, let’s not drag this out any longer,” Uchiha Obito agrees. “It’ll end after this.”
“Glad you agree,” Uchiha Hikaku says before his rapid steps head away and back towards the examination room. He passes Genma on the way there, shooting him an irritated glare before moving forward.
Uchiha Obito stays there for a moment, still and quiet. In the end, he walks through the same path that his cousin has, arriving by Genma’s side just the same.
“Did they make you come and fetch us?” Uchiha Obito asks sheepishly, showing none of the timidness he had earlier towards his cousin.
Genma stuffs his hands back inside his pockets. “Yeah, wouldn't look good if two of ours were missing.”
Uchiha Obito lets out a light laugh. “Oh man, sorry about that, you know how it is, family stuff.”
Genma shrugs, stepping back towards the exam hall, Uchiha Obito steps in line alongside him.
“Just don’t let it impact you too much,” Genma ends up saying. He feels slight pity for Uchiha Obito. Tough cousin relations and fraught clan relations and now this. What a mess it must be, especially considering what they’re about to embark on. Seriously, who sent this kid here?
Uchiha Hikaku was right, at least, why did Uchiha Obito even come here? The kid’s the Hokage student, surely there’s better places for him to take the exam and pass. He’s not like the rest of them. And his cousin isn’t either.
And yet they’re both here, and now tension’s brewing and Genma has a bad feeling that something will go awry.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get it settled,” Uchiha Obito says, his voice light and hopeful. “I mean, we’re family, this stuff’s nothing.”
Genma doesn’t quite believe that. But in the end he just says a short, curt, “Hope so.”
They arrive back in the exam halls. Uchiha Obito moves to stand next to his team, his back towards the wall and his front facing his two teammates. Uchiha Hikaku crosses his arms, Genma sees his lips move- though he couldn’t quite hear what was said. But in the end, as Uchiha Obito smiles sheepishly and say back what must be a vague apology-
Genma really does hope that whatever family issues the two have, they’ll resolve it before the second stage.
Act two, scene two.
Setting: the quiet outskirts of Kiri.
Everything should be fine.
And yet.
What is this unsettling feeling dwelling within him?
The first exam concluded without much fanfare. A few shinobi were eliminated, but they weren’t worth the promotion regardless if they couldn’t pass such a simple thing. It was a formality of an exam, and if they couldn’t pass this, then they have no business being in the next- much more lethal- stage of it. They should be glad, perhaps, that their lives were saved.
Genma can feel everyone sizing each other up as they are moved to the location of their next exam. Analyzing one another and picking at each other to hope to find something that can be taken care of and exploited. He sees a few exchanges here and there, tracking being placed on someone or another- through seals or bugs or whatever else. He makes sure to rid himself and his team of whatever tracking methods he could find, there’s no telling what those here have up their sleeves.
He can see the two Uchiha studying not their environment, but each other. He can see them look upon each other, dark eyes upon one another, he can see their expression turn solemn, the way Uchiha Hikaku’s lips twist into a sneer and the way Uchiha Obito’s expression grows timid. Their last teammate is looking lost between the two of them, unsure and lost- hands raised as though to mediate a conflict that has not yet taken place. Something is building between the two of them, something vicious- something that someone should probably-
“Shiranui,” one of his teammates calls, holding up one of the scrolls they’ve been assigned. Aiko’s smile is nervous, but determined. “Come on, it’s our turn to leave.”
Genma takes one last look at the two Uchiha, thinks better of it, and leaves.
It shouldn’t be anything too bad, they're a clan.
Clan tends to have a way of working themselves out.
Act two, scene five.
Setting: the scene of the taboo. The stench of blood, the rain falls.
The rain abates. He feels someone’s presence before him. He cannot open his eyes, blood drips down, down, down, mixing with the rain. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
But it’ll be alright now. After all-
He smiles, he tilts his head upwards, his arms drawing around Kakashi’s tanto, and he says:
“Kakashi, I’m lost.”
The rain descends, the world is quiet.
Something covers him from the rain.
He grins. The pain ebbs, all that’s left is the warmth inside his chest, and the blood singing in his veins.
Kakashi is here, see?
