Bab 18: First Day Jitters
Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't puke on your new sandals.
The Academy loomed before me, a building I'd seen a hundred times in another life, through a TV screen. Now it was real, solid, terrifying. Kids streamed past, a riot of colors and scents that made my enhanced senses go haywire.
Chalk dust. Fresh ink. The musty smell of old scrolls. And underneath it all, the sharp tang of anxiety – from the kids, from their parents, and yeah, definitely from me.
"You've got this, pup," Tsume said, ruffling my hair. I looked up at her, trying to channel confidence I didn't feel.
"What if they don't like me?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. God, I sounded like an actual kid. Maybe I was going native.
Tsume knelt down, her eyes level with mine. "You're an Inuzuka. We don't worry about being liked. We're too busy being awesome."
I cracked a smile at that. "Thanks, Mom."
With one last hug (and a stern reminder not to bite anyone unless they really deserved it), I was on my own. Well, not entirely. Akamaru trotted beside me, his presence a comforting anchor in the sea of chaos.
We found our classroom easily enough. I paused at the door, taking a deep breath. Show time.
The room was a sensory overload. Thirty-odd kids, all thrumming with nervous energy. The smell of new clothes and freshly sharpened pencils. And the chatter – gods, the chatter. How did normal people function with all this noise?
I scanned the room, cataloging faces I knew from another life. Shikamaru, already looking bored out of his mind. Choji, munching on chips like they were going out of style. Ino, holding court with a group of girls, her confidence practically a physical force.
And there, in the back corner, a shock of dark hair and a fan emblem. Sasuke Uchiha.
My breath caught. He looked so... normal. Happy, even. Chatting with another boy, a smile on his face that I'd never seen in the anime. This was Sasuke before the massacre, before his whole world shattered.
Could I save him? Should I?
"Alright, settle down everyone!" A voice cut through the noise. Iruka stood at the front of the class, clipboard in hand. "Find your seats and we'll begin."
I ended up near the middle, Akamaru curled up under my desk. As Iruka started taking attendance, I let my mind wander, planning my strategy.
I needed to be good enough to justify my early admission, but not so outstanding that I drew unwanted attention. A delicate balance, like walking a tightrope while juggling kunai.
"Kiba Inuzuka?"
"Here," I called out, raising my hand. A few heads turned, whispers breaking out.
"Isn't he like, super young?"
"I heard he's a prodigy or something."
"Look at his dog! So cute!"
I slouched in my seat, trying to look unassuming. Just your average clan kid, nothing to see here.
The morning flew by in a blur of introductions and basic assessments. Reading, writing, basic math – child's play for my adult mind, but I made sure to throw in a few mistakes here and there.
Then came the physical tests.
"Alright," Iruka announced, leading us out to the training yard. "Let's see what you can do. We'll start with basic taijutsu forms."
This was my chance to shine – a little. I moved through the katas with practiced ease, letting my Inuzuka instincts guide me. Quick, fluid movements, a hint of feral grace. Good, but not unnaturally so for a clan kid.
"Very nice, Kiba," Iruka nodded approvingly. "Now, let's see how you handle a spar."
My opponent was a civilian kid, taller than me but clearly nervous. I could smell the anxiety rolling off him in waves.
We squared off, the class watching eagerly. This was tricky – I needed to win, but not too easily. Make it look good without revealing too much.
The kid came at me with a clumsy punch. I dodged, using his momentum to trip him up. He stumbled, but recovered quicker than I expected, managing to clip my shoulder.
Okay, not bad. Let's kick it up a notch.
I dropped into the Inuzuka fighting stance, letting a hint of a growl escape. The kid's eyes widened. Good. Let them see the wild child, the feral clan kid. It's what they expected, after all.
A quick series of strikes, too fast for an untrained eye to follow. The kid went down, staying down this time.
"Match!" Iruka called out. "Well done, Kiba. Excellent use of your clan techniques."
I helped my opponent up, flashing a toothy grin. "Good fight!"
As we moved on to weapons training, I caught Sasuke watching me, a spark of interest in his eyes. Oh boy. Here we go.
"Hey," he said, jogging up to me as we lined up for shuriken practice. "You're pretty good. Wanna train together sometime?"
I blinked, momentarily thrown. This open, friendly Sasuke was so far from the brooding avenger I knew from the anime. It hit me then, really hit me, how much was at stake. How much could change.
"Sure," I heard myself say. "Sounds fun."
Sasuke beamed, and I felt something twist in my gut. I could save him. I could change everything.
But at what cost?
As the day wound down, I found myself both exhausted and exhilarated. I'd made it through, established my persona, laid the groundwork for future "improvements." It was a good start.
But as I watched Sasuke leave, waving goodbye to his new friends, the weight of the future pressed down on me. The massacre was coming. Orochimaru, Akatsuki, the Fourth Shinobi War – it was all barreling towards us.
And me? I was just a kid with too much knowledge and not enough power. Not yet, anyway.
Akamaru whined softly, nudging my hand. I scratched behind his ears, taking comfort in his solid presence.
"We've got work to do, boy," I murmured. "Lots of work."
I could do this. I had to.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone