The vilge had changed. Even as Tomoe walked through the gates of the Academy that morning, she could feel the shift in the air. The easygoing, lighthearted atmosphere had been repced with something quieter, heavier. Conversations were hushed, students huddled together in tight groups, some stealing gnces at the few shinobi parents who had returned from their missions, weary and distant. Everywhere, the war loomed like a shadow.

  For most of her life, Tomoe had felt invisible, but now, it felt like the entire vilge was trying to disappear. Efficiency had repced warmth. Shinobi came and went without lingering, too busy or too tired for casual chatter. The more experienced were stationed at the borders, while the less experienced were drowning in an unending sea of local missions.

  Tomoe understood what it meant. Konoha was preparing.

  She let out a slow breath, clutching the straps of her school bag as she made her way through the crowded halls. She didn’t like change. Change was unpredictable, messy. Change required social navigation that often felt more difficult than the Academy’s written tests.

  And speaking of social navigation—

  “Tomoeeeee! I thought I lost you in the crowd! It was terrifying!”

  A blur of yellow energy tackled her from the side, arms wrapping around her tightly before she could react. Natsume.

  Tomoe barely had a chance to breathe before the verbal onsught began.

  “You wouldn’t believe it! I had the worst morning! First, my dad was supposed to take me to school, but then he got summoned for an urgent meeting, so my mom had to take me, but then she ALSO got called away for barrier duty, so I had to walk here ALONE! Alone, Tomoe! I could have died!”

  Tomoe, with the patience of a saint, simply patted Natsume’s back, letting her burn through her dramatics.

  “And THEN, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I saw Hiro coming in ahead of me, and I tried to call for him, but he totally didn’t hear me, so I had to sprint all the way across the courtyard just to catch up, and you know how I feel about running—”

  Tomoe finally found her opening. “Natsume, you run everywhere.”

  “That’s not the point!”

  Tomoe sighed, but a small smile pyed at her lips as she gently pried Natsume off her. Natsume would be Natsume, no matter how serious the world became.

  After what felt like an eternity of verbal hazards, Tomoe finally made it to her seat. Hiro exchanged a polite smile and a nod before sitting next to her.

  Tomoe rexed. She always appreciated how he let her bask in silence.

  Their homeroom instructor entered soon after, the room falling into order as the morning lesson began. Tomoe expected the usual droning about tactical formations or chakra efficiency, but today, the instructor’s face was unusually grim.

  “As you all know, the situation in the vilge has been shifting. Konoha is facing a shortage of trained shinobi, and in response, we are making adjustments to our graduation process.”

  Tomoe’s stomach twisted.

  “Effective immediately, students who have demonstrated high potential will be invited into a deyed graduation program. Selected students will be assigned to specialized corps, where they will receive advanced training before being pced into forward-facing positions.”

  No. No, no, no.

  Tomoe forced herself to remain still, to focus on her breathing.

  This doesn’t involve me. She had no cn, no special skills, no powerful connections. This was something for students with promise, with talent, with ambition.

  She was normal.

  “When your name is called, come forward and collect your letter.”

  The instructor began calling names. One by one, students made their way to the front, some with eager expressions, others with nervous anticipation. Tomoe wasn’t paying attention. She didn’t need to. This didn’t concern her.

  “Natsume.”

  Tomoe barely had time to process the name before her best friend shot out of her chair. Bouncing with excitement, Natsume practically skipped to the front, snatching her letter with a beaming grin.

  Tomoe felt her heart sink.

  She should have been happy. Natsume was amazing. Of course, she would be chosen. But that also meant—

  She was leaving.

  Tears pricked at Tomoe’s eyes before she even realized. She barely heard the chatter around her, barely registered the excitement in Natsume’s voice. For the first time in years, her world felt like it was shifting beneath her feet.

  “Hiro.”

  The whispers started immediately. Tomoe could hear them even through the rushing in her ears.

  Hiro? Hiro was chosen? The quiet, polite boy who never used chakra in css?

  She turned her head in time to see Hiro rise from his seat, his expression as neutral as ever. He walked with steady steps, completely unbothered by the stunned reactions around him.

  Tomoe felt something warm on her cheeks.

  Tears. She didn’t even remember when they started falling.

  Hiro was leaving too. The quiet presence that banced out Natsume’s boundless energy, the boy who never made her feel like she had to talk when she didn’t want to.

  She didn’t want to be alone.

  And then—

  “Tomoe.”

  She froze.

  A moment passed before she realized that the instructor had already called her name. Twice.

  A gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Hiro looking at her, calm as ever.

  “Tomoe, the instructor called you.”

  She stared at him. What?

  Her eyes darted forward. The instructor was holding an envelope with her name on it.

  What did I do to deserve this?

  Her legs felt like lead as she forced herself to stand, her body moving almost on instinct. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  She was supposed to be normal.

  But somehow, normal wasn’t enough anymore.