Chapter Text
Kabuto and Urushi had left the room following Nonō’s directive. Kabuto had said something reassuring to Kenji but Kenji hadn't the capacity to divert his attention from Nonō. He was almost sure that Nonō had some suspicions regarding something about him. He could read that even if he wasn't so good at reading people.
Matron Ayame hesitated, clearly torn between her duties and concern for him, but Nonō gave her a subtle nod.
“I’ll bring him to you when we're finished, Ayame-san. Perhaps you could prepare the documents we discussed earlier?”
“Of course, Director.”
Matron Ayame stood, gave him one last worried look, and followed Kabuto and Urushi out of the office.
The door slid shut with a soft whisper of wood on wood, leaving him alone with Nonō Yakushi.
The silence stretched between them, not quite uncomfortable but weighted with things unsaid. Nonō studied him with those eyes that had lost some of their kindness and he had the unsettling sensation of being seen in a way that went beyond physical.
“You're very brave, Kenji-kun.”
“Most children your age would be terrified, crying, unable to function after waking with no memories. But you've been navigating this morning with remarkable composure.”
Because I'm not a child. Because I'm a sixteen year old trapped in a six-year-old’s body trying desperately not to break down.
“I'm terrified,” he admitted instead. “I just... I'm trying not to think about it too much. If I think about everything I don't remember, about how I don't know who I am or where I fit, I'll..." He trailed off, throat tight.
"You'll panic," Nonō supplied gently. "That's understandable. But you're managing it well."
She adjusted her glasses again, a gesture that seemed to help her organize her thoughts. "I had said that we needed to discuss your future. Are you feeling up to that conversation, or would you prefer to wait?"
He really wasn’t ready, but he was even less willing to keep wallowing in uncertainty about his situation.
“I’d like to know now,” he said. “Please.”
Nonō nodded, as if she'd expected that answer. "You turned six last week, Kenji-kun. Do you understand what that means in Konoha?"
Was that an important milestone? He scoured his mind for anything he could remember about being six years of age. He remembered that Itachi had entered the academy at six years of age and graduated in a year.
Was that important? Then again Kakashi had graduated at five? Was he forgetting something? He honestly had forgotten more about this world than he remembered.
“I… I don't.”
“In our village, being six is considered the age of decision. The age when a child is old enough to begin formal education and start choosing their path in life.”
She folded her hands on the desk, expression serious but not unkind.
“There are two primary paths available to you. The first is the Ninja Academy. It's difficult, often dangerous, but it offers opportunities for those with the aptitude and determination. Graduates become shinobi, serving the village in various capacities.”
His heart was hammering too fast. Was this really true? He had thought that the Academy started at age 8 for most children. But then again, there was so much contradictory information he had gleaned from the anime.
This is a momentous occasion, this might change everything for me.
“The second path is, of course, a civilian school. You could become a merchant, a craftsman, a scholar, a medic even, there are many civilian doctors who serve the village without ever touching chakra. A quieter life, perhaps, but no less meaningful."
A life where I'd never get strong enough. Strong enough to survive, strong enough to research space-time ninjutsu, strong enough to perhaps affect some changes in events I know would come. A life where I'd never have access to the techniques and knowledge I would need to go home.
“Do I…” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. He had wanted to get over the uncertainty surrounding his situation and this had been dumped on him. An amnesiac shouldn't have to deal with this situation, let alone an amnesiac child.
"Do I have to choose right now?"
"No. But you should begin thinking about what you want. You have some time but the Academy registration time is only three months away.”
He was certain she was talking about the Ninja Academy.
What I want is to wake up back home. What I want is for this to be a nightmare that can end. What I want is impossible.
"What do you think I should do?" He asked instead, voice small.
Nonō was quiet for a long moment, studying him with an expression that was difficult to parse. When she spoke, her words were measured and careful.
“That's not for me to decide. Your mother walked the shinobi path and it cost her her life. Some might say that should push you away from it—that I should discourage you from following in her footsteps. But I also know that trying to force someone away from their calling only breeds resentment. And it seems that being a Shinobi is yours.”
She paused, adjusting her glasses. Perhaps to give him time to adapt to what he’d heard. But how could he when such a matter has been dropped in his lap.
What did she mean by that? Was being a Shinobi my calling? I don't know. How did she know?
“What matters is that the choice is yours, and that you make it with open eyes. Not what you think others expect of you or what your mother's path was. What you want, Kenji-kun. That's what matters. The Academy is not a gentle place, Kenji-kun. It will demand everything from you. And even if you succeed, the life of a shinobi is one of constant danger and difficult choices."
He knew. He had seen the trajectory of this world. Where it was headed. How did it survive? He knew what was coming—the invasions, the wars. He knew what happened to child soldiers in this world. He also knew what he needed.
“I want to try for the Academy,” He said, and his voice came out steadier than expected. "I want to follow my mother's path.”
Something flickered across Nonō's expression, a bittersweet smile coloring her features. "I had thought you might say that." She leaned back in her chair, fingers steepling in front of her. "But you should understand something, Kenji-kun. Your body isn't ready. The entrance exam won’t just be written tests, there are physical requirements. Running, climbing, basic taijutsu katas, stamina assessments. In your current condition…”
"I have three months," he said, drawing on every ounce of determination he possessed. "That's enough time to prepare? To get stronger."
Nonō studied him for a long moment, and in her emerald eyes he saw something shift.
“Three months is not a lot of time to overcome significant physical weakness. But…” She smiled, small and sad. “Your mother was one of the most determined people I ever knew. When she set her mind to something, nothing could deter her. I see that same fire in you now.”
There was a moment of lull in the conversation, enough for Kenji to organise his thoughts and gather the courage he thought he might need for this conversation.
“You said that being a Shinobi was my calling. What did you mean by that, Nonō-san?”
“You noticed that, Kenji-kun. I thought you might have missed that with the flow of conversation. You are quite observant.”
I’m not observant. I am just not a six-year old.
“It is about what I found while I checked you for your amnesia, Kenji-Kun. You know by now that your fall occurred three days ago?”
He nodded.
“You see, the fall had been quite bad, and while I had been certain that you would recover. I had estimated it to take upwards of a month for you to be completely healed even with Chakra. It was a surprise that you woke up today.”
“When I checked you today, Any sign whatsoever of that fall was not present. It was as if there had never been any injury. The most likely explanation of that is a Kekkei Genkai.”
A Kekkei Genkai. That was big, If he really had a Kekkei Genkai. He knew what Kekkei Genkai were, of course, anyone with a wisp of knowledge about Naruto would know. But this Kenji was not supposed to know.
"What is a Kekkei Genkai?"
"You will know that in the Academy, Kenji-Kun. But know this, it is quite rare, yours might be one of a kind. You should keep it to yourself, anyways. It would be dangerous if the wrong people were to know."
Dangerous was nothing if not an understatement. He intellectually knew that Nonō was trustworthy enough to keep that a secret. But should he trust her? He didn't even trust himself enough.
"Will you help me?" The question came out before he could stop it. "Will you teach me? Train me?"
Will you keep my secret? That didn't leave his mouth but it was implied.
"I cannot." Nonō said, and there was genuine regret in her voice.
"My duties keep me occupied from dawn to dusk; running the orphanage, treating injured shinobi, managing administrative work. I barely have time to sleep, let alone take on a personal student." She saw his expression fall and added quickly, "But that doesn't mean you're without resources."
She stood and moved to one of the shelves, pulling down a scroll and a small ledger.
"Because you've chosen the shinobi path, there are things you should know. Things that were going to be discussed eventually but become immediately relevant now."
This should be the surprise she had mentioned.
Nonō returned to the desk and set the items down between them.
"Your mother left you an inheritance. It's not a fortune, of course, but it's substantial enough to see you through the Academy years and beyond if managed carefully. The village holds it in trust until you graduate, at which point you'll gain full access. But..." She opened the ledger, showing neat columns of numbers he couldn't quite parse. That was, if he could read upside down.
"There's an allowance available to you now for training equipment, supplies, anything you need to prepare for the entrance exam."
"And there's something else." Nonō unrolled the scroll, revealing what looked like a property deed. "Your mother owned a house in the eastern district. It's small, modest, but it's yours when you start attending the academy. You can continue living here at the orphanage, or..." She met his eyes. "You can claim your inheritance and live independently. The choice would be yours."
He stared at the documents, mind racing. A house would go a long way to keeping him isolated, away from prying eyes. It would keep his secrets, that, his secrets. It would also mean isolation and he would have to look for whether Konoha would provide its orphan with a support network. He would also miss out on people who could guide him through this world as Takuma had. There would be no kids to observe and learn societal norms from.
"Can I..." He swallowed hard. "Can I think about the house? Maybe see it first before deciding?"
"Of course. There's no rush." Nonō rolled the scroll back up carefully. "What matters is that you know your options."
A thought occurred to him. If Nonō couldn't teach him, if she was too busy... "That thing you did earlier, with the chakra, when you checked me over."
He looked up at her, hope and desperation warring in his chest. "Could you... could you teach me that? How to use chakra like that?"
Nonō's expression turned impossibly gentle. "Not yet, Kenji-kun. Medical ninjutsu requires exceptional chakra control, far beyond what most genin possess, let alone Academy students. Your body needs to adapt to Chakra first, and you'd need to master the basics before even attempting medical techniques."
Disappointment crashed through him, sharp and bitter. He knew it had been a long shot, but still.
"Though," Nonō continued, and that pulled his attention back, "Kabuto has been studying medical theory with me for two years now. He understands the foundational concepts, the basics of chakra control exercises, anatomy, and practical first aid. Perhaps..." She smiled slightly.
"Perhaps he could teach you some of what he knows. Theory, if not practice yet. It would give you a head start before the Academy, and Kabuto would enjoy having a student of his own."
Kabuto as a teacher. The thought was complicated in a dozen different ways. But it also provided him access to medical knowledge and training from someone who would one day be one of the greatest medic-nin alive. Beggars can’t be choosers.
"I'd like that," He said quietly. "If... if he's willing."
"He will be." Nonō's smile turned warm. "Kabuto has a good heart and a brilliant mind. He'll make an excellent teacher for you, I think."
She stood, smoothing her simple dress with practiced efficiency. "You should rest today, Kenji-kun. Your body has been through significant trauma and even if the physical damage has healed, you need time to recover your strength. Tomorrow, you can begin preparing in earnest. But for today, just... be a child. Spend time with the other kids. Let yourself adjust."
Be a child. As if he could. But he nodded anyway, because what else was he to do?
Nonō walked him to the door, one hand resting briefly on his shoulder, a gesture of comfort that made the guilt twist harder in his chest. "One more thing, Kenji-kun."
He looked up at her.
"The path you've chosen is not an easy one. There will be days when you want to give up, when the training would feel impossible, when you question why you're putting yourself through this. On those days, remember why you're doing this. Remember what drives you. That will carry you through when nothing else can."
I remember. I will remember every day. Rina. Takeshi. Grandmother. Akari.
"I will," He promised, and it was the truest thing he’d said all morning.
***