𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝚜 𝙰 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔!

"When I told you that you looked like a trainwreck that one time, I didn't mean that you should cause one," Shikadai teased as he put his arm around his neck.

"Who knew trains could fly?"

"Certainly not your dad," the ponytailed boy rumbled. "The look on his face was priceless. Denki should have snuck a picture. But let's be honest, the look on your mom's face tonight has got to be worse."

Boruto's face paled. Had he known that his impulsive decision to make an unforgettable senior entrance was going to get him murdered by his own mother, he would have thought about walking to the Academy instead.

Judging by how lively the classroom was, his buzz of an entrance was a success. It meant his popularity wasn't going from the fact he was the Hokage's son, rather it was stemming from the fact that he was becoming a bona-fide troublemaker.

Inojin walked up to the pair and forcibly grabbed Shikadai off the blonde, but not without stopping to give him the most "disappointed in your existence" face he could pull out.

"I told you to stop associating with him. If your reputation goes down the gutter with him you could possibly drag me down too," Inojin threatened as he dragged Shikadai off with a scrunched nose.

A twinge of guilt grabbed Boruto's heart. Had he heard those words from anyone else his heart would have been crushed but when it comes from Inojin's unfiltered mouth, it batters him endlessly. Shikadai can't be his friend forever in fact he was Inojin's best friend before he was his. Even in a world of ninja's its best friends above anything else.

The boy put his hand behind his head and leaned back on the school bench behind him. His 'little' prank meant the instructors were busy trying to get a train car out of the ground safely and deal with damage control. Of course, no one got hurt but he sensed that he had made a few enemies out of some of the teachers already.

Sure enough, the door to the classroom slid open and every child went silent as they immediately scrambled to their seats. Gracefully, a woman dressed in a white quipao shirt with black edges and black loose pants, cartwheeled her way to the teacher's podium. Brushing aside her brown bangs to show off her shuriken shaped earrings, she had the undivided attention of the class as she placed one of her arms on hip.

"Listen up brats. My name is Tenten and from now on until next year I'm going to be your homeroom instructor. I look forward to working with you," the brunette said with a bow.

The students gave a bow in return and began getting railed up, just not in the excited manner she wanted out of the teens.

"The Blacksmith lady from downtown? Great! Now I know that this year is going to be super lame," Chouchou groaned as she continued to melt into the bench.

"Chouchou!" Sarada said in a whisper-shout. "She may not be the homeroom teacher we all wanted but a kunoichi of her level deserves respect."

The brown skinned girl rolled her eyes at her companion before blowing over her cuticles. Sarada sighed and apologized on her behalf. However, the memory of having the store door slammed in her face was sending a silent annoyance towards her new teacher. The look on Tenten's face gave off a silly ignorance rather than apologetic.

She recomposed herself and hit the desk, regaining all the students' attention.

"I don't care what you've heard about me but inside the Academy grounds it doesn't matter. A good shinobi needs to be a dependable and accountable leader, both on and off the field. And for that reason, you lot need to pick out a Class President!"

If the desks weren't mounted to the floor, the classroom would have been flipped over. No one actually cared about taking up the role of class president during the first two years, that usually went to the teacher's pets in waiting who felt bad for not bringing themselves forward. Becoming the class president in your senior year was akin to becoming the top dog. It was celebrity status; it could bring in to the top in a matter of seconds and boy was most of this class eager to become the next "It."

"Hold it. Hold it," Chouchou yelled, waving her arms above the rowdy students. "I think we all know who the obvious choice is."

The smugness of her voice was enough to stir up the students against her.

"You are never going to win this popularity contest, Chouchou. Give up," Inojin sighed as he began sketching in his notebook.

"Humble yourself paper crane. I've got more than enough to become the class president. That's why I'm going to sit this election out to give the poor souls a chance this year."

Shikadai sighed in annoyance. It's not like Akimichi ran to be class president in any other year either. It was just a clever excuse to dodge responsibility over others as always. When did she ever not want to be the center of attention?

The whole class instantly fell silent as Chouchou began to roar out a less-than-humble laugh on the spot before shrugging and sitting back down flaunting her starry-eyes. Whether good or bad, that girl was always going to be in a state of mind where everything revolves around her. At least she saved everyone from her bias.

There was no way Inojin was going to run for class president either. He hated the spotlight, even if it meant boosting his reputation. Admittedly he was saving himself the headache of micromanaging a group of lackluster teens in his opinion.

"Well, no way Metal is going to become president."

The throw out statement earned a few quiet laughs as the boy jumped at the mention of his name.

"Shikadai has been itching for power," Iwabe howled as he patted Shikadai's head. "But I bet you'll only apply for vice if Boruto's president."

Whispers started on their own. Like fathers like sons but Shikadai wasn't going to settle for less.

The blonde looked at his friend from across the room and crossed his arms.

"I don't need to," he replied in a nonchalant tone before closing his eyes to feint disinterest.

With most of the star candidates announcing their campaign, all eyes were now on Sarada. She had been the class president for two years in a row. She was more than qualified and efficient. No complaints arose from her leadership since they began their curriculum at the Academy.

"I took would like to be nominated for the role," she sighed and nodded her head.

The students began mumbling against themselves as they began listing names and dismissing them within the same heartbeat.

"I never said we were holding an election," Tenten said as she leaned over the podium in exhaustion as the discussions continued.

The endless bickering came to an end as Tenten began stretching before the blackboard with a smirk across her face.

"Sometimes it takes a little competition to sort out little problems."