The classroom was a furnace of noise and stifling heat, the kind that clung to your skin and made every breath feel heavy. I sat near the back, my elbow propped on the desk, chin in my hand, staring at the scratched wood like it held answers I didn't already have. Six years old, stuck in a room full of kids who didn't know the world was a blade waiting to cut them down. The academy was a game I played, a mask I wore, but today it felt tighter, harder to breathe behind.
Iruka-sensei stood at the front, his voice cutting through the chatter like a dulled kunai—persistent, but not sharp enough to silence the chaos completely. The blackboard behind him was a battlefield of chalk lines, smudged seals, and half-erased notes on chakra theory. He clapped his hands, the sound sharp, and the room grudgingly settled.
"Alright, everyone," Iruka said, his scar twitching as he scanned us. "Today's lesson is on chakra flow. How it moves, how you control it. This isn't just theory—it's the root of every jutsu you'll ever use."
Naruto, sprawled two rows ahead, let out a groan loud enough to turn heads. His orange jacket was a splash of defiance against the muted grays of the room, his blond hair a mess from restless fidgeting. "Aw, man, sensei! More boring stuff? When do we get to the cool part—like explosions or shadow clones?"
Iruka's eye twitched, but he kept his tone even. "Patience, Naruto. You don't get explosions without mastering the basics."
"Basics, schmastics," Naruto muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. He slumped lower, his sandal tapping a rhythm against the floor.
I smirked, my fingers stilling on the desk. Naruto was a storm trapped in a bottle, always rattling the glass. Part of me wanted to shake it harder, just to see what'd spill out.
Kiba snorted from the left, his pup Akamaru yipping from his lap. "Give it up, Naruto. You're gonna blow yourself up before you blow anything else."
"Shut it, dog breath!" Naruto shot back, twisting in his seat. "I'll master this faster than you can sniff your own—"
"Enough!" Iruka snapped, his voice a whipcrack. "Naruto, sit down. Kiba, focus."
Kiba grinned, all teeth, and scratched Akamaru's ears. "Yes, sensei."
Ino leaned forward from her spot near the window, her blonde ponytail swaying as she propped her chin on her hand. "Honestly, Naruto, you're such a child. Some of us are trying to learn here."
"Yeah, right," Shikamaru drawled from beside her, his head resting on folded arms. "You're just mad he's stealing your spotlight. What a drag."
Ino huffed, crossing her arms. "As if! I don't need attention from losers."
Sasuke, seated near the front, didn't bother turning. His dark hair was a shield, his silence louder than Naruto's noise. But I caught the slight tightening of his shoulders—he was listening, always listening.
Choji munched on a bag of chips, the crinkle of the wrapper cutting through the quiet. "Can we just get this over with? I'm starving."
"You're always starving," Shikamaru muttered, eyes half-closed.
Iruka rubbed his temples, exhaling hard. "Focus, all of you. Chakra flow isn't a joke. Watch." He formed a single seal—Ram—and a faint blue shimmer rippled over his hand, steady and controlled. "It's like water in a stream. Too much, and it floods. Too little, and it dries up. You have to find the balance."
Naruto perked up, leaning forward. "Oh! Like ramen broth! Too much salt, and it's gross. Too little, and it's boring!"
Iruka blinked, then sighed. "...Sure, Naruto. Like ramen broth. Now, try it yourselves. Ram seal, focus your chakra, feel the flow."
The room buzzed as kids fumbled through the motions. Hinata, seated quietly near Naruto, formed the seal with trembling hands, her pale eyes darting to him every few seconds. A faint flush crept up her cheeks, but her chakra flickered softly—steady, if small.
"Nice, Hinata," I murmured, low enough that only she might hear. She jolted, her blush deepening, but she gave a tiny nod.
Naruto's hands slammed together, his face scrunched in concentration. "Ram! Ram! Come on, chakra, flow already!" A wild pulse of energy shot out, knocking his pencil off the desk. It rolled under Sakura's seat, and she yelped, her pink hair bouncing as she glared at him.
"Naruto, you idiot! Watch it!"
"Heh, sorry, Sakura-chan!" Naruto grinned, unrepentant. "Guess my chakra's too awesome to control!"
Sasuke snorted, his voice cold. "Or too stupid."
Naruto whirled on him. "What'd you say, teme? Wanna fight?"
"Anytime, dobe," Sasuke shot back, his eyes narrowing.
"Boys!" Iruka barked, his patience fraying. "Enough. Naruto, detention. Again."
"Aw, sensei!" Naruto flopped back, arms flailing. "This is so unfair!"
Kiba laughed, loud and rough. "You're gonna live in detention, man."
Shino adjusted his glasses, his voice a quiet hum from the corner. "Perhaps if you applied logic instead of volume, you'd avoid such consequences."
Naruto stuck out his tongue. "Boring!"
I leaned back, watching it all unfold. The chaos was a melody I knew by heart—Naruto's bravado, Sasuke's ice, the others filling the gaps. My family, in a twisted way. But my mind was already drifting, tugging me toward the riverbank, toward Jiraiya. The bell couldn't ring fast enough.
When it did, the room erupted. Kids bolted for the door, a tangle of shouts and laughter. Naruto trudged toward Iruka's desk, grumbling, but he flashed me a grin as I passed. "Catch ya later, fancy hair!"
"Try not to die in detention, idiot," I said, smirking.
Sasuke fell into step beside me, silent but present. His nudge against my shoulder was quick, subtle—a thread tying us together. I nodded, and he peeled off toward the gates.
The air outside was cooler, sharper, cutting through the academy's haze. My steps quickened, the weight of the day sloughing off like dead skin. Jiraiya was waiting, and with him, something real. Something mine.
---
The river glittered under the late afternoon sun, a ribbon of gold slicing through the green. Jiraiya stood on the bank, his silhouette broad and wild, white hair whipping in the breeze. He turned as I approached, his grin a jagged edge, eyes glinting with something I couldn't quite name.
"Took you long enough, brat," he said, his voice a rumble. "Thought you'd gotten lost in that kiddie playground."
I dropped my bag, rolling my shoulders. "Had to sit through Naruto being Naruto. You're lucky you missed it."
He laughed, a sound that shook the air. "That runt's a walking disaster. But you? You're here for the real stuff. Ready?"
"Born ready," I said, meeting his gaze. My pulse kicked up, a steady thrum under my ribs. This wasn't Iruka's chalk dust lectures. This was power, raw and close.
Jiraiya pulled a scroll from his cloak, its edges tattered, its surface stained with age. He unrolled it with a flick, revealing a lattice of seals, ink dark and precise against the yellowed parchment. "Summoning jutsu. The kind of thing that separates shinobi from kids playing with kunai. You sign this, you call something big. Something alive."
I stepped closer, the air humming with possibility. "Toads, right? Like you?"
He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's the plan. Toads are loyal, strong. But summons… they've got minds of their own. You don't choose them. They choose you."
My throat tightened, but I nodded. "What's the catch?"
"Catch?" Jiraiya's laugh was sharp. "If they don't like you, they might eat you. Or just leave you bleeding in the dirt. No pressure."
"Great," I muttered, but my hands were already moving, drawing a kunai from my pouch. The blade bit into my thumb, a quick sting, and I pressed the blood to the scroll. It spread, a crimson smear locking me in. "Done."
Jiraiya clapped me on the back, nearly knocking me forward. "That's the spirit! Now, the seals: Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, Ram. Channel your chakra, picture the summon, and hit the ground. Don't screw it up."
I flexed my fingers, memorizing the sequence. Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, Ram. Simple enough. But the chakra—mine was a restless thing, coiled tight, eager to snap. I took a breath, slow and deep, letting it build, then ran through the seals. The air sparked, a jolt racing up my arms, and I slammed my palm into the dirt.
Smoke roared up, thick and gray, swallowing the world. It stung my eyes, clogged my lungs, the scent sharp—earth and ash, something primal. I waved it away, coughing, my heart a hammer against my ribs. What was coming? A toad, like Jiraiya's? Something else?
The smoke thinned, curling back, and I froze. A shape loomed, massive and coiled, scales glinting crimson under the fading sun. A snake. Not a toad. Its head rose, eyes like molten gold, slitted and cold, its tongue flicking out to taste me. Younger than the Garaga I'd glimpsed in another life—no missing eye, no scars—but the same weight, the same menace.
Jiraiya's jaw dropped, his voice a hoarse rasp. "A snake? You pulled a *snake*?"
I didn't move, didn't blink, my breath shallow. *Garaga.* Ryuchi Cave's pride, even young, even unscarred. Not what Jiraiya wanted. Not what I'd expected.
The snake's head tilted, its voice a low hiss that vibrated through the ground. "Who summons me?"
I stepped forward, forcing my voice steady. "Menma Uchiha."
Garaga's eyes narrowed, a flicker of scorn. "A child. A speck. You dare call me?"
Jiraiya snapped out of his shock, his tone sharp. "Watch it, snake. He's my student."
Garaga's gaze slid to him, unimpressed. "A toad's pup, summoning a serpent. Curious."
I clenched my fists, heat rising in my chest. "I didn't pick you. The scroll did."
The snake's laugh was dry, grating. "Fate's jest, then. What do you seek, speck?"
"Strength," I said, unflinching. "To protect what's mine."
Garaga studied me, his tongue flicking again. "Bold. But you're nothing yet. Weak."
"I'll change that," I shot back. "With or without you."
Jiraiya stepped closer, his hand on my shoulder, voice low. "Menma, this… Snakes are trouble. Ryuchi Cave's no joke."
I shrugged, a grin tugging at my lips. "Neither am I."
Garaga's eyes gleamed, a spark of something—interest, maybe. "Prove it, hatchling. Or I'll crush you."
The smoke swirled again, thick and sudden, and he was gone. I stood there, the air cold against my skin, the weight of his words sinking in. A snake. My summon. Not a toad, not safe, but mine.
Jiraiya exhaled, rubbing his neck. "Well, damn. You don't do things halfway, do you?"
I smirked, sharp and real. "Never."
He chuckled, but his eyes lingered on the spot where Garaga had been, wary and dark. "Just don't get bitten, kid."