𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 - sasuke uchiha

1 - 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓

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From my point in the room, I can hear a kettle boiling over.

An indignant sigh seeps out of my mouth as I sink further into my mattress. Squeezing my eyes shut, the sound reverberates through the house. Through drawn blinds, the sun peeks into my room. It's what I look at when I open my eyes.

I had thought life, as a Genin, would be different, like a sense of responsibility would sink into my brain, like I'd feel more important. I don't. Aato, however, thinks differently about the situation. He's there to greet me as I slug my way into the dining area.

"Fresh Gennin need their beauty sleep." He teases, offering me an irritating grin before turning around. I hear the sound of hot water pouring into a ramen cup.

I sigh. "Ramen for breakfast is not a good source of nutrients."

With a steaming cup in one hand, and a plate of a fresh omelet placed in another, he turns around and sets them onto the table. He smiles again, offering me a pair of chopsticks. "That's why I made you a separate breakfast, Chibara-Senpai." The words slip off his tongue like water, an infuriating cunning look in his eyes.

I shoot him a pointed glare, yanking the chopsticks out of his hand. Slinking into the chair, i'm fuming not even an hour into the day. "Never call me that again." I seethe.

He's given the reaction he wanted, discomfort. He throws his head back in an annoying laugh before placing himself in his seat across the table. I'm already digging in without saying anything. Aato's the last person who can say anything about table manners, however; he's got his elbows on the table. Always so infuriating, cousin Aato.

It's not like I can complain much, however, since he's all I got. Although there's plenty of times where I'd rather brood alone than have to deal with his antics, he has his moments. He's my only source of knowledge regarding our bloodline, so I suppose he's worth keeping around.

And he makes a damn good omelet.

"You're getting assigned teams today, right?" He says after swallowing down a mouthful of ramen. He points his chopsticks at me. I stop myself from scoffing.

Where are his table manners, seriously?

I hum in confirmation, really not up for all this small talk. Taking another bite of my food, I carefully watch his expression. His usual childish grin, masking over- is that pride? He lets out a chuckle, before flickering his gaze to the side, turning his head and leaning back in his chair. "Maa, I remember getting assigned teams. I don't doubt Iruka picked a good group for you."

I can only nod meekly, fiddling with the handles of my chopsticks. Looking down at my plate, I deny the nerves trickling up my spine. I don't doubt that Iruka-Sensei did, either, but I'm not necessarily warmed up on the idea of teamwork. The only times I've sparred with anyone other than Aato were on occasions at the academy where it was a mandatory exercise.

My taijutsu is up to academy standards, for it's not my preferred type of jutsu to practice, much to Aato's dismay. He always claims I do everything to defy him, considering hand-to-hand is his specialty. But it's hard to break habits, especially since I've gotten used to practicing alone. Ninjutsu or shurikenjutsu are my preferred methods. There's a tranquility to practicing alone; you get to process your thoughts, lose yourself in the rhythm of your heart rate, focus your attention on your chakra reservoir. I get to push myself to my standards.

Aato doesn't understand that, no matter how much he tries to. He, unlike me, needs people. He strives for companionship, that's probably why it hurt so much for him - why he almost ordered for me to be taken into his custody. 22 year old, Aato Sano, looking after his teenage cousin.