The tour was a test of endurance.
Iruka led the class like a man trying to shepherd baby boars through a field of rakes. Every two minutes, someone got distracted. Or wandered off. Or somehow ended up wearing a curtain.
"And this is the sparring hall," Iruka said, gesturing grandly.
Kiba immediately tried to climb a support beam.
"GET DOWN FROM THERE!"
Tamamo and Sasuke trailed behind the group like two cats silently judging everything.
"You think they'd notice if I escaped through that window?" Tamamo asked.
"They'd replace you with a log and call it advanced ninjutsu," Sasuke muttered.
They passed the training fields, where older students were already practicing.
One unlucky soul got knocked flat by a wooden sword and went airborne.
Tamamo tilted her head, impressed. "Ten out of ten form. That sandal went at least twenty meters."
"That's gonna be you," Sasuke said. "Except with a more dramatic spin."
Tamamo smiled. "If I'm going down, I'm taking someone with me."
Next was the supply room, where Iruka gave a rousing speech about equipment responsibility while Naruto accidentally dropped a stack of shuriken on his foot. There were tears. And a bandaid shaped like a frog.
They passed the library—"For research and quiet study," Iruka said, just before someone shouted "BORING!" and ran into a bookshelf.
And then the bathrooms.
Iruka stopped in front of them with the gravitas of a war general.
"This… is where you pee."
There was a long silence.
"Thank you, Iruka-sensei," Tamamo said solemnly. "Truly enlightening."
Iruka pinched the bridge of his nose. "Moving on."
Finally, they reached the courtyard.
"This is your designated break area," Iruka said, maintaining a composed tone. "You'll be spending your free periods here between lessons—use the time wisely."
Sasuke looked around, unimpressed. "Smells like sweaty sandals."
Tamamo sniffed. "Also betrayal."
With the tour complete, Iruka marched them back to the classroom, slightly more disheveled than when they began. One kid had leaves in his hair. Another was missing a shoe.
Iruka clapped his hands to gather their attention. "It's time for lunch. You may eat outside or remain in the classroom—but please conduct yourselves responsibly."
--
Sasuke never saw it coming.
One moment he was unwrapping his lunch.
The next, Kiba and Naruto had flopped down beside him, Shikamaru sighed into his rice like he'd been drafted, and Shino started explaining his beetle's dating life in graphic detail.
Sasuke looked across the room.
Locked eyes with Tamamo.
'Help me,' his face said. 'They're touching my chopsticks.'
Tamamo met his gaze. Blinked once. Slowly.
Then, projected the most older-twin-sister energy possible straight into his soul:
'You need this. Make some friends... Preferably alive ones. And don't eat anything they hand you.'
Sasuke looked betrayed.
She stood, grabbed her lunchbox, and gave him a soft, almost guilty shrug that said,
"Forgive me, Sasuke… but this is your destiny."
"Go. Befriend the loud ones."
"I'll remember you... as you were."
Then she turned and walked out of the classroom like she was making a prison break while her twin got left behind for character development.
Behind her, someone shouted "IF YOU TOUCH MY RICE BALL, I SWEAR ON MY ANCESTORS—" followed by a crash.
Tamamo didn't turn around.
Her expression was blank. Her pace was steady.
There was only one mission now.
Lunch.
Silence.
And, if the universe was feeling generous, no one trying to marry her brother mid-meal.
--
The courtyard buzzed with unfiltered kid chaos — someone was chasing their sandwich, someone else was crying because they dropped their dango, and a third child was trying to convince a pigeon to be their ninja companion.
Tamamo sat beneath the lone tree like a war-weary veteran. Lunch unwrapped, back against the trunk, she chewed in slow, contemplative silence. A rice ball in one hand. Peace in the other.
Rustle.
She didn't flinch. She just chewed slower, eyes narrowing like a hawk preparing for inevitable nonsense.
Then—
A head emerged from the bushes.
Sasuke's.
His hair was slightly wild. His eyes held the dazed look of a man who had faced horrors beyond his years.
Tamamo stared. "…Are you hiding in a bush?"
He glanced around like a fugitive. Then nodded. Gravely. "Yes."
"There's girls," he whispered. "A whole herd of them. Organized. Led by the pink and blonde one."
"They've formed a leadership council," he muttered. "The pink one tried to touch my hair. The blonde one swore she'd write a novel about our tragic romance. One girl asked what brand of shampoo I use... I don't even know."
Tamamo exhaled through her nose. "So, naturally, you crawled into a hedge."
"It was that or let them braid a 'bond of destiny' friendship rope out of their hair," he said grimly. "One of them was measuring my wrist."
Tamamo paused mid-bite. "That's… deeply unsettling."
"They said it seals eternal connection."
She nodded slowly. "Sounds like a jutsu. A cursed one."
Sasuke peered around the courtyard. "Why are you alone?"
"Because I radiate death and disappointment," she said. "Also, I threatened to bite a girl who asked if I sparkle in sunlight."
He nodded, impressed. "Effective."
"No boys either," she added. "Just one who asked me if I'm the less popular twin. I told him I'd haunt his dreams."
He winced. "That's cold."
"That's justice."
Sasuke glanced around again. "Seriously? Not even one admirer?"
"No cults. No minions. No suitors. Just carbs and blessed silence."
"…Tch."
She paused. "Did you just tch at me?"
"No," he lied, almost immediately.
"You're jealous."
"I'm concerned," he said. "If no one falls madly in love with you on day one, are you even an Uchiha?"
Before Tamamo could respond with a snarky rebuttal, a shadow fell over them.
They looked up.
A boy had appeared beside them. Appeared. Like a summoning jutsu gone wrong.
He grinned with the reckless optimism of a child who's never been emotionally drop-kicked. His hair was combed stiff, his smile weaponized. He dropped to one knee like he was about to propose under the cherry blossoms.
Tamamo froze mid-chew. "Oh no," she muttered.
"Tamamo Uchiha!" he declared, loud enough for nearby birds to abandon their nests. "From the moment I saw you—your elegance, the way you stared like you were judging everyone's life choices—I knew we were destined!"
Sasuke immediately slapped both hands over his mouth, eyes wide with horrified delight.
The boy held out a crumpled daisy. "Please! Accept this token of my undying admiration!"
Tamamo studied him.
Vest buttoned wrong. Socks misaligned. He held out a crumpled daisy. His smile looked aunt-coached, his bangs like seaweed that gave up.
She slowly swallowed her bite and gave him the full weight of her indifference.
"I'm gonna stop you right there," she said evenly.
A pause.
"…Ew."
The boy blinked. His soul left his body.
He made a sound like a dying flute—high-pitched, tragic, and slightly moist—then bolted like he'd just seen his future flash before his eyes, and it was filled with restraining orders.
Arms flailing, one sandal flying off, he vanished across the courtyard as the crumpled daisy twirled after him like the last petal of a broken dream.
Sasuke watched the boy vanish across the courtyard, then turned back to Tamamo with a look of disbelief.
"…That's it? Just—'ew'? That worked?"
Tamamo wiped her hands. "Brutal honesty. Queen's weapon of choice."
"I literally told a girl 'please stop breathing near me' and she asked if I wanted to get married."
Tamamo gave him a pitying look. "They're built like mythological beasts, Sasuke. Immune to shame, fueled by hope, and terrifying in packs."
Sasuke sighed and shuffled backward into the bush like a man resigning to fate. "If they ask, tell them I was heroically devoured by squirrels. Real tragic. Very noble."
"Will do," she replied. "But knowing them, they'll build a shrine and wait for your spirit to send them love letters."
--
Across the courtyard…
A small cluster of boys lingered in the shade of the Academy's outer wall, huddled like a makeshift war council behind the snack machine. Crumbs scattered on their lapels. Dirt on their knees. The universal signs of recess survival.
Naruto squinted at the lone tree across the field, where Tamamo had just annihilated a love confession with the verbal equivalent of a kunai to the heart. The victim's cries still echoed faintly, like a dying seagull in the wind.
He let out a low whistle, lips pursed in admiration. "She's scarier than Iruka-sensei when he's mad."
Kiba scratched behind his ear, brow furrowed. "Yeah… and way more effective. I've never seen someone cry that fast without being punched."
Choji crunched thoughtfully on a rice cracker. "He ran like he had bees in his pants," he said, mouth half-full. "Like mad bees."
Shino adjusted his hood, eyes hidden behind dark glasses that somehow managed to look thoughtful.
"Unconventional tactics," he murmured. "Weaponized indifference. Precision delivery. Efficient."
Naruto blinked. "She didn't even stand up."
"Didn't have to," Kiba said. "The 'ew' hit his soul."
"Right in the core," Choji added solemnly.
Shikamaru lay on his back in the grass beside them, arms behind his head, staring up at the clouds like they held the answers to a less complicated life. He sighed, long and weary.
"Women," he muttered. "Terrifying."
There was a moment of contemplative silence.
They all nodded.
Naruto popped a peanut into his mouth. "You think she'll do that to everyone?"
"I hope not," Kiba said. "I like my dignity. What's left of it."
"Dignity is overrated," Choji replied, reaching for another chip.
Shino tilted his head. "Depends on how it's lost."
They lapsed into silence again, watching Tamamo across the field as she resumed eating her lunch under the tree, totally unbothered by the chaos she left in her wake. Sasuke remained half-submerged in the bush beside her, possibly dead inside, definitely rethinking every life decision that led to this moment.
Shikamaru groaned softly. "This year's gonna be such a drag."
They nodded again.
And from the way they all kept glancing at Tamamo like she was a natural disaster that had taken human form, it was clear:
A new power had entered the Academy.
And none of them were ready.