When Uzumaki Tomoki and his teammates entered Shiraishi's office, they found Temari sitting opposite the Kazekage. Dressed in a beautiful yukata, she was smiling brightly while snacking on some treats.
At just over seven years old, little Temari looked like a delicate porcelain doll. Her movements as she nibbled on her snacks were both nimble and adorable.
"It's Temari..."
Hearing Tomoki's voice, Temari's eyes lit up. She hopped up and skipped over to him with a wide grin. "Tomoki-niisan! It's been so long since I've seen you. I missed you!"
"I'm a Jonin now, Temari. I have missions every day, so I don't have much time to play," Tomoki said, giving her a gentle smile. "But you still have Tomoko and Gaara to keep you company."
"They're just kids..." Temari pouted.
Under Shiraishi's direction, Gaara, Uzumaki Tomoko, and Aoki Shigeru had grown up together as playmates.
The Little Temari had developed a habit of clinging to the handsome, red-haired Tomoki.
Uzumaki Tomoki was tall and strikingly good-looking, naturally earning the admiration of the little girl. In contrast, she found Shiraishi's newly grown mustache quite "prickly."
Observing the warm interaction, Shiraishi let out a series of dry, intentional coughs to break the mood. He set down his documents and fixed Tomoki with a stern glare. "Is the mission complete?"
Tomoki winced slightly under the pressure. "Yes, it's done."
"Where is the mission log?"
"Right here... but Master, isn't this supposed to be handed to the Jonin Assembly for evaluation?"
Ignoring the mumble, Shiraishi flipped through the records and snorted. "Your efficiency is sluggish. Three Jonin finishing at the pace of three Chunin? I'm marking this as an A-minus."
"But it was a merchant escort mission..." Tomoki grumbled. "There isn't much difference in speed whether you're a Jonin or a Chunin."
Usually, the Jonin Assembly handled evaluations, but since Shiraishi had personally issued this specific task, he took it upon himself to grade it. He ignored their complaints, adopting the expression of a teacher who only wanted the best for his students.
"You are all Jonin now. Keeping you in a single squad is a waste of resources. During the six-academy evaluation at the Sand Festival tonight, you will each select a Genin squad to lead."
Yamaji Kumtake, who had been quiet until then, asked, "What if we all want the same squad?"
"Then it will depend on the unanimous decision of those three Genin."
"What?" Kumtake's face fell. "The Genin get to choose us?"
Traditional ninja culture usually saw masters picking their apprentices. Kumtake had been eyeing a few geniuses from the prominent clans, but the thought of having to "apply" to a bunch of snot-nosed brats was mortifying.
Roshi chuckled at Kumtake's misery. "There are some decent prospects from the Arakawa and Yamaji clans this year. You could always just lead your own relatives."
"Those kids? They're all stuck-up brats..."
Shiraishi skimmed the files. The children from the three branches of the Sand-style clans were indeed the top tier of the graduates; after all, clan children started with a much higher baseline than civilians.
However, there were exceptions.
The graduates from the Kusu and Kawa Academies were almost entirely hand-picked by Morimoto Ryoji from civilian backgrounds.
Their defining characteristic was monstrous physical strength. Having inherited the Seven Heavenly Breaths, Ryoji had integrated the first three stages into the Navy's basic training.
These "Sons of the Sea" possessed iron wills and combat capabilities that made them the toughest Genin in the village, contrasting sharply with the more "refined" students of the Central Academy.
The Sand Festival was the most significant annual gathering in the village. Since Shiraishi became Kazekage, it had grown more grand every year. For the Year 53, a massive stage had been constructed in the New Oasis District.
Each of the six academies sent their most elite squads to compete for glory. During this process, new Jonin would scout for subordinates.
If multiple Jonin wanted the same team, the Genin held the power of veto. This was a radical departure from tradition, but Shiraishi used it as a tool to stimulate healthy competition and keep the Jonin from growing complacent during the era of peace.
"I understand, Master," Tomoki said.
As evening fell, the flags of the six academies fluttered around the great stage. Fireworks thundered through the night sky, illuminating a village that was more prosperous than ever before.
High upon the observation deck, Morimoto Ryoji arrived first, dressed in his crisp, white Naval Commander uniform.
Behind him followed a phalanx of Navy shinobi, all wearing identical white capes. Whether Jonin, Chunin, or Genin, they marched with cold, disciplined precision.
Some traditional Sand ninja in the shadows watched with disdain. Many of these Navy shinobi were originally from the Land of Artisans, Quercus, or Rivers.
To the traditionalists, they weren't "true" Sand ninja; some even mockingly referred to the Navy as the "Defector Department."
The Navy shinobi returned the sentiment. While the mainland enjoyed peace, the struggle at sea had grown increasingly brutal.
Years of fighting rogue ninja and mercenaries had forged the Navy into an arrogant, battle-hardened elite. Their unified presence radiated a palpable aura of killing intent that silenced many critics.
"The Navy certainly arrives early," a soft voice remarked, cutting through the tension.
Shikasa walked slowly into the arena. As the Jonin Commander and Ryoji's nominal superior, his arrival drew the eyes of the various department heads.
In contrast to the Navy's rigid uniformity, Shikasa's followers wore a variety of different ninja gear. Though they were all experts in their respective fields, standing next to the Navy's "white wall," they looked like a disorganized band of stragglers.
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