мοrι ηo κο 『森の子』

Two | | Blind

》Dιsсlαιмεя: I own no Canon characters that shall be used within this story。Only the OCs, as well as the setting in which the beginning of this tale will take place。 All other things within the Narutoverse belong to none other than the marvelous, Masashi Kishimoto。READ ONWARD, LOVELIES!! ( ' ▽ ' )ﾉ《

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The trio had arrived within the Kusachi Academy---a learning facility for upcoming shinobi to practice the varying forma of jutsu and the way of the ninja. Midori and Masahiko were the first years, while Etsuko was a second year placed within a more advanced class than the first years. Had it not been for the massive windmill shuriken hanging behind the sign above the main door, most would suspect it were a normal school for children wishing to learn nothing more than the basic subjects of life: farming, business, etc. However, the villagers knew better and were quite pleased with such a place of learning.

There were many classrooms within the Academy. Doors lined the hallways, some with a number and letter above them, while others possessed no more than a color to define them from the rest. It was tradition that a Nagamori be assigned a classroom specific to their requirements. Green represented those that possessed the Kekkai Genkai, Wood-Style; Red represented those that possessed Earth-Style; and Blue represented those whom only possessed Water-Style.

Masahiko had been separated from the blonde and placed within room 1-A, which was for normal children of the village who were on their way to becoming shinobi.

Midori wasn't accustomed to a classroom environment, however, she knew that if she wished to be just as strong as her brother . . . she'd have to adapt. She sat at a desk near the upper right corner of the flat room, away from the three other Nagamori eight year olds present. She knew only simple skills with her Wood-Style, like how to conjure up life from the palms of her hands and how to summon small roots up from the ground to trap feeble creatures, but nothing of the major sort, which was why she started attending the Academy.

Picking up the pencil lying next to a blank sheet of paper situated in front of her, she wrote down her name in kanji at the top left corner.

"Hey!" shouted a shrill boy's voice a couple of rows up from her.

Midori shifted her uninterested eyes upward and stared at him. "Huh?"

The kid had narrow eyes with the vibrant emerald color at the iris and a small pupil at their center. His hair was nearly gone, yet still there, almost like a shaved head kind of cut. His lips were wide and plump, his skin as pale as a fresh snow on the ground. Midori had seen him around a time or two, but found his appearance too unusual to bear.

"You're Midori, right?" he inquired, his dark, fuzzy eyebrow aloft.

She yawned and scratched her forehead. "Yeah, I'm Midori," she answered, sitting down the pencil in her hand. "Who're you?" she asked, harshly.

The lad placed his hands on his hips and stood proudly, a smug grin on his round face. "Osamu," he said, walking over to Midori, he sat himself to her left. "My dad told me that you're my cousin."

"That's cool," she mumbled, turning her attention away from Osamu to stare out the open windows and at the bustling streets. Why did you have to leave me, Masahiko-kun? she wondered, internally sighing.

"Your dad's name is Shin, righ---"

"Yeah," she interrupted, standing from her seat. "It is." She picked up her sheet of paper and pencil, then strode to the empty chair sitting at the front of the room, bewildering Osamu.

"What's wrong with her?" asked a red-haired, ivory-skinned boy as he sat down next to Osamu and stared at the back of Midori's head.

Osamu shrugged. "I don't kno---"