Chapter Text
78年, 3月
"This seems a bit much," Baki mutters.
"This is entirely necessary," Tensei corrects. "Trust me on this."
"I think he's more concerned about the method than your information," says the third of their trio at the front of the classroom. Tensei offers her a slight quirk of his lips. Jimei is one of few kunoichi who have made it all the way to the rank of full-jounin on her own merits, if one ignores the hearsay about her history with Baki, but her relative lack of experience at the forefront is showing. Whenever Tensei bothers to focus his senses, it feels like she's buzzing with even more anticipation than the students filing in. "Ne, Baki, doesn't this remind you of something Isago would pull?"
"Yes," Baki deadpans, and Jimei raises a fist to stifle her laughter; an inside joke that Tensei isn't privy to.
It takes another minute for the genin to get settled, some moping about being back in an Academy classroom after having escaped it and others exploring the writing on the desks curiously. His siblings and team are the last to file in, setting an example by immediately taking out their notation scrolls and a pencil. "Whoever doesn't take notes on this lecture will never step foot into Konoha this year," Tensei calls out.
The others scramble to set up their supplies. Ha.
Tensei paces the length of the front row, checking every single genin before stopping in front of Gaara. "I know we went over this once already," he murmurs, "but try to pay attention anyways. It's important."
"Yes, Aniue."
Good. He moves back to the blackboard, chalk clacking as he writes in large, bold characters: Fourteenth International Chūnin Exams. "As you all know," Tensei starts, drawing a line underneath the heading to divide it from the rest of the blank slate, "this year's Chūnin Exams are to take place in Konoha, for the second time since it was first implemented in the year sixty-five of the New Age. Who can tell me why we have them?" A smattering of hands go up. Tensei gestures at a brunette next to the dark-haired girl that Sayu has been glaring at with his chalk. "Name, age, and answer."
"Jyari, daughter of Haisen, sixteen." She hesitates for a moment, deliberating where to begin. "The classification of 'chūnin' originates from Iwa, but it became widespread in the first decade of the New Age. Some nations promote based on a checklist of requirements, but all the major nations use an exam to standardize the status' baseline. The international version was an attempt to foster better relations between hidden villages after the Third Great Shinobi War— it's written in the treaty from year sixty-four."
"That is what we teach in Suna, yes," Tensei allows. "A good summarization of the history behind the exams, but if you look underneath that, you'll find more layers. Temari?"
"It's a stand-in for war," his sister says. "The Third and Second happened nearly back to back— no one could afford a fourth so soon. By sending genin to show off in front of an assembly of potential employers, the exams become an advertisement of each village's strength without massive casualties."
Tensei notes down the important points in a bulleted list as she speaks. Ah, the wonders of higher education via a private tutor. He should send Rio-sensei a gift basket, one of these days. "If you're only in this for the promotion, allow me to disabuse you of that notion now," he addresses the rest of the gathered genin. "You are going into Konoha not only as Suna's soldiers, but as ambassadors in your own right. How you act, speak, and dress in public are all going to impact Suna's image on an international scale, but then again, this applies to everyone who participated in an international exam. Sou, what makes you guys special?" He pulls out a storage scroll, unsealing its contents with a flair. "You're not," he deadpans. Some of the genin perk up, surprised by the change in direction of his build-up. "In the very first few pages of the packet, you'll find nine genin, fresh out of the Academy. Now, this you probably don’t know: Konoha has not sent rookies into an international exam in five years. Can anyone tell me why these three teams are special?"
He allows them a minute to flip through the packet, a miniature mock-up of vital characters in the style of a bingo-book. He didn’t want to bother their Black Sands agents stationed in Konohagakure for something as mundane as pictures of the upcoming graduating class, so there’s a lot of hand-drawn profiles. Easy to do when he can just use his blind eye for an overlay to trace the intended faces, same as how he can make copies of the Nidaime Hokage's Hiraishin matrices.
“Each team has at least one heir of a lineage,” Kankuro breaks the silence, clearly bored of waiting. "Uchiha, Hyuga, Aburame, Akimichi, Yamanaka, Nara."
Tensei admonishes him with a light whap on the head, but the answer is correct. “Meaning they’ve received the best training that their legacy-lines have to offer,” he elaborates for the rest of the genin. “Make no mistake; as a team, these twelve and thirteen year olds can match and oftentimes overpower the average chunin as long as they're working together, physical builds and experience be damned."
That's why the classroom full of candidates sitting before him are all young faces— no genin here is over the age of eighteen, to better match their intended competition. To the largely-civilian employers that will be in the audience, there is nothing impressive about seeing a significantly older contestant beat a younger one, and there is plenty of favor to lose if the older contestant ends up losing. When considering the Rookie Nine's presence, Tensei has had to be much pickier in his choices this year. Still— barring Akane, Jimei’s little troublemaker of a student who has a record of petty theft on her file— they’re all decent kids.
The keywords in his little spiel, however? 'As a team'.
It's why Konoha has retained the highest number of active duty veterans— current day jounin and chūnin would have run in four-man cells as young genin during the Third War. If they were lucky, their combined efforts might have been enough to take down a sole chūnin scout or watchman. If they weren't, a sacrifice play by one could usually ensure the survival of the other three. The trade-off was stealth and speed, of course, but the improved survival rate in combat scenarios compared to solo endeavors was and still is significant. It's less a tactic and more common sense, really— the only reason why Konoha is so well-known for their teamwork is because they have the manpower to pull this off consistently, compared to every other country's habit of sending out no more than two shinobi if at all possible. If you spot one Konoha-nin, think again— their allies are never far behind.
There are more people in the packet, of course. Specifically, there are a few only present in his siblings' and team’s versions. The Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen— don’t fall for his grandfatherly facade, don’t ask after his family beyond standard well wishes. Dead wife, dead anbu son, wayward second son, bratty grandson by the first dead son. There’s always Rio’s etiquette lessons to fall back on, but standing orders are to stall and redirect to either their father or another Suna jounin if at all possible. Sarutobi Asuma— tan skin, short black hair, full beard, cigarette, and a bandanna around his waist with the kanji for ‘fire’ on it for the said second son. Sarutobi Konohamaru— spiky brown hair, goggles, and a long blue scarf for the mentioned grandson. If met, disengage as soon as possible after exchanging standard platitudes.
And then there are the warnings for everyone.
Shimura Danzo, one of Konoha’s venerated elders and a veteran of the First Shinobi War. A cross-shaped scar on his chin, bandages around one eye, a wooden cane— Flee on sight.
Morino Ibiki, head of Konoha’s Torture and Investigation department and the proctor of the first exam. Dark trench coat, a bandanna hitai-ate, and facial scars over tan skin— Someone to be wary of; do not engage if possible.
Hatake Kakashi, son of the White Fang. Upright silver hair and only one visible eye between the face mask and hitai-ate, likely carrying an orange book— Do not engage.
This is followed by every single competitor that Tensei can remember or See, of course. The goal of this prep session is to give Suna’s genin the best chance to get past the Forest of Death. Not that his siblings aren’t enough to deliver a good showing in front of the assembled daimyo, but the Sandaime Hokage will also be watching the preliminaries, and Tensei intends to prove Suna’s potential in both quality and quantity. Funnily enough, the best way to do that is to present themselves as a threat— one that Konoha should rather have as an ally than an enemy. Tensei’s own finals couldn’t be considered a success, not with him being beaten by a kid two years his junior, so Suna will just have to be satisfied with his siblings as they tear Itachi’s Forest of Death clear record to shreds.
More importantly, each and every infopacket will equip these genin with an infohazard that no one outside of Konoha should be aware of, yet: a warning to look underneath the underneath for the first exam, a list of the environmental dangers found in the second exam, and a blonde-haired, blue-eyed kid with whisker markings on his face and an orange jumpsuit. Uzumaki Naruto, jinchuuriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox.
Whether or not any of them figure out that the kid is also the son of Konoha’s Yellow Flash is up to how many war stories they’ve heard, Tensei supposes. That’s a target he’s not quite willing to add to Naruto’s back, as of now, but. There will be anbu shadowing him. Tensei can imply that he, personally, might hold more cards than Konoha is comfortable with; draw some attention to himself to get Jiraiya to approach him if his father won’t allow for the other way around.
Speaking of his father.
“We have tentative confirmation that Orochimaru is indeed the leader of Otogakure,” Rasa tells him in the dressing room the next morning.
Tensei may or may not hold extremely passive-aggressive eye-contact with his father as he zips his flak jacket up. “What a wonder,” he says, flatly. “Who could have predicted that.”
His father sighs. “Take that tone with me again. See where it gets you.”
Tensei scowls, but doesn’t push any further. “Apologies,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. Too dark? Sarcasm. Too light? Sass. Say nothing? Late-onset teenage rebellion. This is what he gets for having a personality, apparently. Sometimes, Tensei wonders if Asuga didn’t have a point about moving out of his ‘nest’. “Sou, what are we going to do about it?”
“I am going to write the Hokage on the whereabouts of his wayward student. We are going to proceed as planned.”
Nothing about the threat of invasion. Annoying, but fair enough, considering their lack of evidence— the initial letter burnt itself to ashes exactly two hours after being opened, and a shinobi’s word is worth little by itself. “The alliance, then?”
Rasa tugs out the sleeves of his blue robes. There are no wrinkles— Tensei would know, he was the one who ironed them last night, since Temari did the laundry. Go, teamwork. “Suna would welcome talks of mutually beneficial trade,” his father says, with a cadence like he’s quoting something. A return letter than Tensei wasn’t privy to, likely. “'However, Suna currently has no plans to end an alliance with Konoha almost twenty years strong.'”
Tensei turns away to hide the smile on his face. Orochimaru never really enters the village proper before the Chunin Exams, in a world of ink on paper. The bodies of three Kusa genin are found on the very outskirts shortly prior to the second exam, which takes place decently far away from the village. As long as he can protect his father on the way there— well. This will be different from that time with his uncle, where a twelve year old naively thought that his own existence might have been enough to derail the future.
Awkwardly, he knocks on the impression of empty space in his soul. As usual, there’s no response. He doesn’t think he’s doing it wrong, though. Tensei’s gotten good at visualizing his… inner self, from the handful of times he’s had to enter Gaara’s mindscape in order to study the jinchuuriki seal. Maybe there’s just no way to access the other plane from his end, but he’s sure he can work something out. Buying a little bit of extra time for him to do so isn’t violating any laws, right?
On the other hand, maybe he’s having trouble because he’s never seen what he’s trying to visualize.
It’s kinda like a sinkhole, Shukaku told him during his last inspection. An air bubble in the well of your person. I call it ‘the black’ ‘cuz of the impression it emanates, not ‘cuz it’s actually black.
Which, while interesting, is not actually helpful information. A lot of his conversations with the tailed beast go that way.
What was your goal, influencing Gaara how you used to?
…
Or were you just… venting?
What’s with the personal questions allova sudden, hah? Thought ya came to pick at the lock.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for your cooperation, but the council is— uh.
Old farts don’ trust the one-eighty.
You being able to just pull shit from my brain will never not be creepy.
Tough. Does this mean I can kill someone?
Not unless Gaara has a good cause to, please. Just— sensory deprivation is hell, I know, but our deal can’t possibly be your only incentive for behaving. I’m not enough of an edgelord to believe that my threats hold that much weight over a giant chakra nuke like you. So, what gives?
Ya still don’ understand. Not bein’ able to see the sky or feel the wind is one thing, but when your only taste of the world comes from the vague emotions of a squishy brat like this one? He’s startled, I’m startled. He panics, I react. Only ‘fore you did your schtick with all that whatever, I was running blind. He dies, I…
Ah. I see.
Do ya. Now get the fuck out, we’re blendin’ again.
Yeah, Tensei always clears his schedule when attempting to do that these days. Coming out of Gaara’s mindscape is pretty disorienting— sometimes, he even catches himself thinking in dialect. All the more reason to find someone who can actually fix Gaara’s seal and not just fine-tune certain pre-existing functions to suck less. Which he has to get around his father’s watchful eye to manage, now.
Tensei sighs. One challenge for another, he supposes. Here goes nothing.