All three headed toward the training grounds, fully expecting to find Sasuke in his usual element—and sure enough, there he was, deep in the zone, sparring furiously with a set of shadow clones. Sweat dripped down his jawline, Sharingan spinning slightly as he dodged and countered with perfect precision.
Naruto whistled. "Man's throwing hands with himself like it's a grudge match."
Karin folded her arms. "Classic Sasuke. If he ever lost to himself, we'd never hear the end of it."
Naruto stepped forward, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Yo! Brooding champion! Time's up—mission calls!"
Sasuke paused, landing a clean hit that dispelled his last clone before turning to face them, slightly out of breath. "Did Kakashi show up? Or did you two drag him out from his latest Icha Icha binge?"
Kakashi scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Let's go with 'dragged'."
"Thought so," Sasuke said with a smirk, walking over. "Give me a second to wrap up."
"You just vaporized your clones, what's left to wrap?" Karin asked, arching a brow.
Sasuke calmly walked over to a nearby bench, grabbed his towel, and wiped off the sweat. "Dignity. Let me finish cooling down with some grace."
Naruto chuckled. "Alright, Prince Uchiha. Grace it is. But once you're done pampering yourself, we're clocking in some real teamwork."
Sasuke gave a nod, tossing the towel over his shoulder. "Let's get it done."
Kakashi scratched his head, clearly not used to dealing with three fresh Genin who were already way too confident. "Alright, alright… let me check what beginner missions are available."
He pulled out a scroll from his pouch, unrolling it with one hand while flipping a page in his Icha Icha book with the other—multitasking legend. "So, today's options for new Genin teams…"
Karin crossed her arms. "Wait, I heard there was a test after graduation—like a final evaluation?"
Kakashi nodded. "Yeah, normally there is. It's called the Bell Test. I use it to see if a team is truly ready to become shinobi. Most fail."
Naruto's eyes widened. "Wait, what? So that whole graduation ceremony was just the warm-up?"
Kakashi gave a classic lazy eye-smile. "You could say that."
Karin huffed. "What kind of setup is that? You're telling me we graduate, and then you decide if we're good enough?"
"Exactly," Kakashi said nonchalantly. "And considering your… unique reputations, the Hokage gave me the freedom to skip the formal test if I want to."
Naruto grinned. "Wow, special treatment already? I feel famous."
Karin shot him a look. "Don't get cocky, Naruto."
Kakashi rolled up the scroll. "So, instead of the bell test, you'll start with some low-level missions—basic D-ranks. Stuff like walking dogs, helping the elderly, or cleaning storage rooms."
Naruto groaned. "Not the dog-walking again…"
Karin sighed. "So we're really doing babysitting missions, huh?"
Kakashi shrugged. "Every shinobi starts somewhere. Even I cleaned paint off statues."
Sasuke, standing quietly with his arms crossed, finally spoke. "Let's just get it over with."
Naruto looked to Kakashi. "Alright then, let's pick one. What do we have today?"
Kakashi smirked. "Well, I've got a classic to start you off: helping a retired shinobi harvest his backyard full of medicinal herbs."
Naruto blinked. "…You're kidding, right?"
"Nope. Team 7's first mission—weed picking. Let's go."
And just like that, the most overpowered Genin team in the village marched toward their humble beginning—with dreams of glory, but hands soon to be full of weeds.
After accepting the mission, the team made their way through the quieter part of the village, eventually stopping in front of a modest two-story house. It wasn't flashy or impressive—just a peaceful home with a small, overgrown backyard bursting with herbs, weeds, and wild greenery.
An elderly man sat comfortably beneath the shade of a tree, sipping tea and watching them approach with a curious squint.
"Ah, you must be the new Genin team they sent to help me," he said, lowering his cup and giving a slow, approving nod.
Kakashi gave a lazy wave. "Yep, that's us. Team 7, reporting in. Just point us to the mess, and we'll get started."
The old man squinted at them through his thick glasses, a faint grin tugging at his wrinkled lips. "Hmph. Youngins these days look more like models than shinobi," he muttered, eyeing Sasuke's cool stare, Naruto's wild red hair and sunny grin, and Karin's confident stance.
Naruto scratched his head. "Well, we are kinda cool."
Karin elbowed him. "Don't get cocky, Red. One more comment and he'll have us sorting worms."
The old man chuckled. "Feisty one, aren't ya? Good. You'll need that spirit."
He slowly got up and gestured toward the backyard with a knotted walking stick. "The herbs are all over the back garden. Some are delicate—handle them wrong and they'll wilt faster than a Genin on their first mission. You're to pull out the weeds, trim the overgrowth, and harvest only the ripe ones. Think you can manage that without blowing anything up?"
Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "We're not amateurs."
The old man laughed, a deep, raspy wheeze. "Says every Genin before they mistake poison ivy for peppermint."
Kakashi, casually reading his book, nodded. "You heard the man. Consider this your first step to greatness."
Naruto groaned. "I thought we'd be fighting bandits by now…"
Karin rolled up her sleeves. "Come on, nii-san. Let's get our hands dirty. It's either weeds or Mom finds out you tried to skip chores yesterday."
Naruto paled. "Right. Weeds it is!"
The three Genin headed to the backyard, ready to face the most ancient and feared enemy of all rookie ninjas… manual labor.
Meanwhile, the old man settled back into his chair, muttering, "They'll either quit in an hour… or they'll be the next legends."
And so, Team 7's first mission kicked off—not with sparks and blades, but sweat, soil, and the unspoken war against dandelions.
Soon, they got to work—pulling weeds, trimming vines, and occasionally getting attacked by overgrown plants that seemed to have a vendetta against humanity.
Meanwhile, Kakashi, true to his legendary "do absolutely nothing unless it's life-threatening" policy, sat lazily with the old man under the shade, both of them deep in discussion over the latest Icha Icha volume. The old man even pulled out his own weathered copy, like a true veteran of spicy literature.
Back in the garden, Karin knelt near a cluster of lavender, her eyes catching a bright flutter of color. "Nii-san, come look! This butterfly—it's gorgeous."
Naruto walked over, brushing dirt off his hands as he leaned down to look. The butterfly, with delicate wings shimmering in orange and white, flitted just above a herb stalk.
"Beautiful," he said, watching it for a second… then added with a smirk, "But not as beautiful as you."
Karin blinked and narrowed her eyes, a slow, mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh? Are you hitting on your own sister, Nii-san?"
He leaned closer and whispered with a cheeky glint in his eye, "Did you forget already? I kissed you yesterday."
Karin's face flushed instantly—part embarrassment, part flustered pride. She quickly swatted at him with a gardening glove. "Shhh! Do you want Sasuke to overhear and start lecturing us about 'morals and boundaries'?"
Naruto snickered. "Let him try. I'll kiss you again just to prove a point."
"Idiot," she muttered, biting back a smile as she turned back to the herbs. "Focus on the mission before that butterfly gets more affection than you."
Naruto chuckled and returned to his work, still grinning like the smug red-haired devil he was.
Behind them, Sasuke sighed, not even looking up from pruning some stubborn weeds. "If you're both done flirting with insects and each other, we've got three more rows left."
Occasionally, they'd slip up—maybe overwatering the herbs, or accidentally plucking the wrong plant—and the old man would launch into long-winded lectures about "the art of patience" and "respecting the soul of the soil." Naruto nearly dozed off standing once, and Karin caught him mid-nod with a sharp elbow.
Despite the minor blunders, they finished the job without blowing anything up (which for Naruto was personal growth). The old man even treated them to a modest lunch inside his cozy home, filled with the smell of simmering broth and dusty scrolls. After a final round of thanks and a warning not to trample the thyme patch again, they left.
And so, the days rolled by—one odd job at a time.
A week slipped past like a breeze through the village streets.
In that time, they tackled a parade of gloriously mundane D-rank missions: chasing down runaway cats with the speed of ANBU on coffee, guarding old ladies' fields from rogue deer with vendettas, and—most tragically—serving soba at a local diner while dressed in matching aprons (Naruto's said "Hot Stuff," Karin's read "Spice Queen," and Sasuke nearly quit the team right there).
Yet, despite the monotony, something was building. Beneath the sweat, the banter, and the ridiculousness of waiting tables in shinobi gear—Team Kakashi was forming its foundation.
During the week of endless D-rank grind, there was one mission even Kakashi couldn't escape from.
He approached the Uzumaki household like a man walking into a battlefield. His footsteps were quiet. His breathing shallow. This wasn't a rogue ninja ambush. No, no. This was worse.
This… was Kushina's wrath.
As he knocked on the door, it creaked open. There she stood. Arms crossed. Foot tapping. That look in her eyes that said, "You are five seconds from getting redecorated."
"You finally showed up," she said, voice calm, way too calm.
Kakashi bowed his head. "Kushina-san… I sincerely apologize for missing Naruto's graduation celebration. It was irresponsible. I take full accountability—"
She didn't let him finish.
With the precision of a veteran shinobi and the emotion of an angry mother, Kushina launched into a full-on lecture. It wasn't just words—it was chakra-infused verbal punishment. He didn't even get a chance to blink.
For a solid hour, he endured.
Being called "Irresponsible Hatake".
Forced to sweep her entire porch while reciting apology haikus.
And worst of all... she made him sit through a photo slideshow of Naruto's childhood while she explained what every single image meant.
By the end of it, Kakashi looked like he'd aged five years.
If anyone had seen him—the calm, ever-composed, cold-eyed Copy Ninja—sitting on a cushion while nervously sipping tea, nodding and apologizing like a guilty academy student…
They would have never believed it.
And yet, by the time she handed him some rice balls and said, "Alright. You're forgiven… this time," Kakashi sighed in relief like a man who'd escaped a tailed beast's wrath.