I wake up in the morning with a pounding headache. The events from last night seem vague and distorted. I can't suppress a screech from my throat when the end of the night pops into my mind.

Oh god. Oh dear god. 

I scramble to my feet and sit on the edge of my bed as the memory replays over and over.

My hands in his hair, his on my face. Our lips pressed firmly together. And I didn't want it to stop.

What the actual fuck.

In my drunken state, I decided it would be a good idea to make out with the cold-hearted captain. And, though he might not be as cold as I'd initially thought, we're still two very different people.

I'm energetic, hard-working, and fun.

And he's... he's dull, lazy, and generally a kill-joy. 

Which is why I tear myself apart as I make my breakfast, talking aloud to myself while I pace the kitchen.

"What got into you Ayame?"

I flip my egg and sprinkle some salt on it.

Shit, wait, that was sugar. 

"Damn it!"

Picking up the pan and letting the egg slide into the garbage, I crack another one and let the runny substance spread out in the hot pan.

"What is wrong with you?" I say, with two meanings in the current situation.

I pace back and forth, unable to stand still. My hands jitter at my sides, tapping uneven rhythms on my thighs.

But he kissed back. Why on earth would he do that?

"What the fuck."

I flip my egg and make sure to sprinkle salt this time. A sigh escapes my lips and I wack myself in the temple, trying to urge the thoughts away. I'm a guilty over-thinker. I've always been that way. Maybe it's because of how hyper-aware I am of the way I present myself to others. 

I've fought my whole life to make sure people don't view me as the orphaned niece of the Hokage. I am so much more than that and I'll never let my abandoning-mother get in the way of my reputation. Not even for a minute.

It seems last night was an exception to my usually overly aware self. If I weren't so drunk, I never would have needed him to help me home. If I had been thinking straight, I never would have kissed him. 

But he kissed me back. He didn't seem to want it to stop.

"What the fuck," I say again as I slump into a kitchen chair and place the plated egg in front of me on the table. 

My appetite disappears suddenly, despite the fact that I haven't eaten anything since lunch yesterday and even then, it was a crappy peanut butter sandwich I'd hastily prepared before the mission.

I poke and prod at the singular egg with my fork and watch as the egg whites bounce back like jelly. My hand finds my head and I rest it there, allowing myself to feel angry and taking it out on the unknowing egg.

Angry at myself for letting my feelings get the better of me and drinking too much.

Angry at Hiruzen for demoting me to jonin leader.

And angry at my ex-captain Kakashi for taking advantage of drunk-me and letting the kiss happen.

I'm gonna fucking pound him when I see him next. 

Then it hits me. I look at the clock and die a little inside. The jonin meeting started twenty minutes ago. 

"Damn it!" 

Just like that, I'm rushing around my apartment once again, grabbing my things and tossing them into my pouches with haste. Subconsciously, I dress in my ANBU uniform out of habit but realize my mistake when I go to put my porcelain mask on and it isn't there. 

I mentally curse myself, quickly sliding the grey flak jacket back up over my head and tossing it across the room.

I find myself ripping the gloves and arm protectors off, leaving just the tight black tank-top and loose pants with some bandage wrapped around one thigh. It feels stupid to be wearing half a uniform but I'm already very late so it will have to do.

With that, I rush out the door, not even bothering to lock it. Not like anyone would make the five-story trek to steal some dirty frying pans and ten year old pillows anyways.

When I reach the Hokage Tower, I'm surprised to find nobody there. I rush to the jonin lounge on the top floor and it's completely empty.

So I run to the Hokage's office, not even bothering to knock. When I open the door, Hiruzen jumps a little in his chair.

"Oh, Ayame. Shouldn't you be with your team?"

For a moment, while I catch my breath, Team Ro pops into my head but then I realize 'team' has a different meaning here. He means team of genin. The three little twerps I'll have to look after. I audibly huff and slump my shoulders.

"I lost track of time. I missed the meeting. I don't know where to go," I mutter, readjusting the bandages on my thigh that have started coming loose.

Hiruzen chuckles under his breath, taking a puff from his pipe. Smoke blows out of his mouth as he digs through some files.

"You've never been one for being on time, huh?" He chuckles again and I just shrink on the floor in front of his desk. Finally, he pulls out a yellow file folder and flips it open. "Here it is. Team 3. Meeting place is room 311. They all passed the genin test with ease but it is up to you if you decide to keep them or send them back to the Academy."

I furrow my eyebrows, "You mean, I can choose not to graduate them?"

"Exactly."

I think over this for a moment as I try to remember my own graduation exam. It was a long time ago—18 years, to be exact. I graduated one year earlier than the rest of my class at the age of 11. 

I was so focused on my own goals that I never took the time to bond with my teammates. I don't even remember their names. For all I know, they could be dead. For a brief moment, I feel sad about this but the moment doesn't last because Hiruzen starts talking again.

His voice is low and serious. He looks at me with an almost threatening glare. "I trust you to interpret their skills without bias, Ayame. I know you're not happy about this change, but I think it will be good for you. You were spending too much time training or on missions and not enough time bonding with people."

I freeze for a moment before snapping my head up at Hiruzen. He sits straight in his chair, a certain confidence over his features. "Is that why you pulled me out of ANBU?" I feel my anger rising and it becomes more evident in my voice. "I worked so hard to get there, you know that more than anyone! And I loved it. Every minute of it. I never let the bad stuff get to me like others did, you know? I made sure of it."

Hiruzen shakes his head, taking another puff of his pipe, "You don't get it, Ayame." I go to speak back but he puts his hand out, silencing me. I shrink down in front of him. I am his subordinate, I remind myself. He continues calmly and every word makes me want to scream. "You were focused, yes. You have become a great shinobi, something to be proud of. But you're lacking the ability to bond with others."

"I have friends, if that's what you're trying to say," I shout, but I make sure to hold back my anger. This is the Hokage I'm speaking to, after all. "Like Tenzo and Yugao. But what does bonding with people have to do with being a shinobi? I'm strong, and I will always protect this village with everything I have, even if it costs me my life. That's what you taught me, Uncle. The Will of Fire, is it not?"

Hiruzen takes a deep breath and sets his pipe down. He closes his wrinkled eyes for a moment before speaking. "The Will of Fire means you protect the village like they were your family. Do you know the driving force of the Will of Fire, Ayame? What keeps it alive and burning?"

I shake my head, trying to understand what he's getting at. 

He sighs and stands up, coming around his desk to meet me. Signaling me to rise, I push off my knee and stand until I am towering a full head above him. He really is quite short.

"Love."

I flinch and my eyes open wide. Hiruzen might be shorter than me but I still feel small compared to him, "What do you mean, love?"

"Without love, the Will of Fire would not exist. You can be the strongest shinobi in the world but you will still fail without love. Love is what gives a shinobi the strength they need to keep fighting, even when their body is weak," he says, pacing the room. "Imagine this for just a moment. You're on a mission with your team. You have been instructed to retrieve a sacred scroll. The future of the village is riding on this scroll. If you fail to retrieve it, our bonds with another nation will sever."

"What are you-" he cuts me off.

"Yugao is captured by the enemy, held at knife-point. You can choose to save her or the scroll. Which do you choose?"

I don't even have to think about it. I am perfectly aware that sacrifices must be made for the good of the village. "The scroll, of course..."

Hiruzen has lost his usual calm. He speaks with strength, a tone similar to the one he uses when addressed a crowd of hundreds.

"In the ANBU, you're trained to put the mission above all else. Each person is responsible for their own life. Such mindset is required for the success of the high-level missions ANBU are sent on. But you must never forget that being a shinobi is about more than just skill and success. It's about protecting those you love, Ayame. Each generation is responsible for passing the Will of Fire onto the next. We must never forget the reason why we figh—to protect our comrades."

I'm silent. I have no response. Hiruzen returns to his desk and grunts as he slides back into his seat.

"I believe you have some genin to meet," he mutters, putting his attention back to his paperwork. 

I'm quick to nod, saying, "Yes sir," and escaping his office without another word. His words sink in while I try and find room 311. 

Love. 

Maybe he's right. Maybe I have been misinterpreting the Will of Fire. But how is putting me in charge of three little kids gonna help me make sense of it? Jonin senseis are responsible for bringing up the next generation of shinobi. If Hiruzen is right, and I don't truly understand the Will of Fire, then why is he trusting me to pass it onto the next generation?

I'm too caught up in my thoughts to realize someone else has been approaching in the hallway, and he's too busy reading a book to notice me either. We bump into each other, making him drop his book.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I say, quickly leaning down to pick up the book. "Icha Icha? Who reads this crap anyways?" When I straighten back up to hand him the book, I yelp. I hadn't recognized him before because of the fact that he now wears a green jonin vest and blue clothing instead of the black and grey ANBU attire—and his scarred eye, a key feature to identify him by since he keeps his face covered with a mask, is hidden by his forehead protector. If not for the very voluminous mop of whitish-grey hair sitting atop his head, I would not have recognized him.

His usually lazy grey eye is suddenly wide when he realizes who I am.

"S-sorry, I didn't see you there."

I push the book into his chest, avoiding eye-contact. He takes it and I rush past him. "I've gotta go, I'm late to meet my genin," I say over my shoulder as I walk unnaturally fast. I can feel his gaze following me down the hallway. A sigh of relief escapes my mouth when I turn the corner, out of his sight.

"Shit," I mutter, remembering that I was supposed to pound him for what he did to me. But for some reason, I couldn't think straight in his presence. My mind was a blur and I acted without thinking.

That type of behavior—the sporadic, disorganized type—is something I am unfamiliar with. Usually, I'm very aware of my own thoughts and my mind is in perfect sync with my body.

I remember back to this morning when I sprinkled sugar on my egg instead of salt, or when I put my ANBU uniform on without thinking.

Ever since last night, I've been all out of whack. Maybe I'm still suffering from a hangover, but my head feels perfectly fine... what is going on with me? 

Before I can ponder this any further, I reach room 311. The door is closed and I reach out to slide it open, but hesitate. I've never really been the kid-liking type. They're immature and unpredictable; they lack basic skills but think the world of themselves and are generally annoying.

When I slide the door open, I expect some hyper children to leap out of their seats but all three of them sit in a perfect line behind one desk, arms on the table.

"You must be Sensei," the girl chimes, a calm and collected smile on her lips. "I'm Miyata and this is Kyou and Jun," she says, pointing to the two boys beside her. The boys sit straight and smile kindly.

Their names are not at all what I was expecting. They mean assertive, cooperative, and dutiful. The three things I would lease expect from genin like them.

I stare at them for a moment before walking fully into the room, "Sorry I'm late." 

"We understand," Kyou says, voice calm and with respect. Again, I stare at these three quiet genin and narrow my eyes, taking in each one. 

Is this some kind of joke? What on earth do they have up their sleeve? Maybe it's a prank. No way they're this patient and obedient.

I decide to try a firmer approach to see if they budge—let them know who's boss. 

"Stand up, now."

All three stand in perfect sync and come around the desk. They look like a group of well-trained soldiers.

"Come on, now. What's the meaning of this? Spill."

Nobody talks. They all stare up at me with calm, unreadable expressions.

"I said, spill. What's going on here?"

The girl takes a step forward and speaks with a soft but confident voice, "We're not sure what you mean, Sensei."

I sigh and glare up at the ceiling. Maybe it would have been better with hyper kids. At least then I'd have someone to criticize. This sensei thing is already boring me. I should be on a mission right now with Team Ro, doing something more useful than standing in a room with three boring children staring at me in a line.

"Fine then, let's go to the training grounds so I can decide if you're worth keeping."

I finally manage to crack their perfect facades. All three of them flinch and their eyes widen by a fraction before they resume their soldier-like stances.

"Let's go, I don't like to waste time."

They follow me out without question and I grin, already thinking of all the fun ways I'm gonna scare them and test their skills. I won't let this unfortunate situation get me down. That's who I am—I take the bad stuff in stride, and this will be no different. 

I am a badass, I remind myself. Nobody can change that, especially not three little genin. 

But when we reach the training ground, my confidence shrivels. At the sight of him, I fall back into a jumbled state, unable to think straight.

"S-sorry, I didn't know this training ground would be occupied. We'll leave."

"It's okay," he counters, quickly waving to the vast amount of space. "There's plenty of space to share."

I'm about argue and walk away but that competitive, stubborn part of me says to stay; I cannot admit weakness in front of these genin. 

So we stay, but on the opposite side of the river. I'm happy to have it there as a divider, but no matter how much I will myself not to, I find myself glancing over every now and then. 

Because of him, I'm all out of sync. 

My mind says ignore him, but my eyes have their own agenda.