1 Hair Pins

Picking myself up, I start running again. Fifteen more minutes, I should be able to squeeze another two laps in before heading inside and cleaning up. Huffing and puffing, I push myself. Why? Well, I've reincarnated in the naruto world, as an orphan. It's not so bad. I have an advantage over almost everyone here, so life isn't too bad.

For one, the village propaganda is at its best here. Since having a sense of permanence is hard in an orphanage where caregivers and peers are always temporary, orphans get detached easily. With monthly visits from the Hokage and certain chunin, we get a sense of belonging. Not to the orphanage or the people here, but to the village. It's not a terrible thing, but it just leaves a sour taste in my mouth that it's done so blatantly. It's like eating a cake and finding out most of it is that sickly sweet, sugary to the point where it's disgusting, icing. It's just laid on a bit thicker than I'd like.

Turning the corner, I wave at Granny Ning. What a sweet little thing. When I say little, I mean my size. The size of a growing nine-year-old. Ignoring her nagging, I rush around the next corner. Generally, all orphans learn to take care of themselves. It's not hard, just a bit time-consuming. That wouldn't be a problem, but orphanages also have strict schedules to keep the kids in line. With more than ten kids per caretaker, they really don't have time to coddle us.

Reaching the starting point, I wipe the sweat off my forehead and push on forward. The only thing that books and anime don't tell you is that we orphans don't generally care for one another. Once in a while, some former orphans may come back, but there is no such thing as a family here. It's all about efficiency, getting through the day and preparing for the next.

Ignoring some of the more annoying orphans, I reach the starting point once more. Checking my wrist, I line my arm up with north and then check my sundial. I wish watches were easier to get, but they are super expensive here. I had to make do with a thrift shop compass strapped to my wrist right under a sundial.

Seven minutes to go. I rush inside, Dodging around the other orphans. It's not like I don't like them, I just don't want to know any of them. Even the blonde protagonist's father. Yea, Minato Namikaze is at my ophanage. Yes, he is the same age as me. No, I don't want to be his friend. No, I don't want to get involved with him and somehow get the Flying Thunder God twenty years down the line. No, I'm not in the genius class known as A-1. Grabbing today's clothes and a towel from my little cubicle, I avoid the gathering crowd and the already present chunin ninja.

Heading into the bath area, I strip and grab a clean towel. Wetting it, I wipe myself down before ringing the water out. Grabbing some soap, I quickly rub myself down before washing all the soap suds away. A bucket per orphan as the caretaker says. Using the rest of the water, I wash my clothes before drying myself with my own towel. I quickly dress in some grey briefs, standard black socks, dark trousers, and a baby barf short sleeve t-shirt. Reminding myself that I'm nine and completely flat, I wrap my damp clothes in my towel before rushing out of the bath area.

Spreading the towel and clothes on a clothesline, I rush back inside to join the rest of the rabble. Just in time to hear the usual propaganda introduction, "...that is the WILL OF FIRE!!" Looking at the excited orphans around me, I snort. Too easy. Seeing the chunin leader glaring at me, I give him the stink eye. Nothing against Konoha since every village does the same thing, but this might be one of the worst places for canon fodder like me. Maybe Iwa would be worse at this point since a bunch get slaughtered by a certain blond, but Konoha isn't far behind in canon fodder deaths.

Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I glance back to find my favorite propaganda artist, Orio Chinatsu. I've tried asking her about a certain creme-filled sandwich cookie, but it seems it just doesn't exist here. Anyway, I jump at her and transition from a tackle to a hug. It's tradition, right? Avoiding the headbutt, she grabs me and twirls me around. I always feel like physics betrays me when my feet stick straight downward when this happens. Apparently, she uses chakra to stabilize points in my body and fix them in place relative to each other. As long as I don't fight it, she can easily hold it.

Just another reason why I have to graduate from the academy as late as possible. Where else would you get someone to teach you in-depth theory like this without taking something in exchange? After the academy? Nope! Remember, I'm not in the A-1 class, neither am I the last member of some small clan. I'm ordinary in everything but my mind at this point. Yes, I've been running since I was four, but a bit of speed doesn't make me desirable. Anything else at this point is my own secret. I don't want to end up as Danzo's brainwashed flunky because I look like I can be trained.

Soon, if I can get a generic jounin teacher, I could freely show what I know. But before that, I need to keep myself as a mediocre civilian. Taking me outside, I smirk. One thing I have no problems practicing is senbon throwing. Or in my case, Hairpin throwing. Each orphan gets a limited allowance to get small accessories or food items. The food at the orphanage isn't bad so I generally save for when I eventually leave about a month before turning eleven or making it to genin. Whichever comes first.

A couple of years ago, I bought a small hair accessory, nothing fancy, that looked like a colored pair of chopsticks. They were a bit sharp, but nothing my hair bun couldn't handle. The very next day, Orio confronted me on having weapons and that's how we started talking. She, a senbon user, was more than happy with getting me started on throwing senbon. When she's not here, I practice on my own with my hairpins, a noticeably smaller set of senbon. Ever since I knew of their real purpose, I started collecting them. Different colors but the lengths were all the same. I guess massive needles sticking out of your hair can be concerning.

Arriving at our usual place, she smiles and throws a senbon into a tree, "Make an ex on the trunk using mine as the center." Licking my lips, I gingerly pull four mini senbon out of my hair. About five minutes and four attempts later, she retrieves our senbon and hands me mine. "Good job, you're almost there." With her usual speech, she goes to check on other orphans, leaving me to my senbon. It's slow going, but at least I can throw one accurately with each hand. Kunai should be easier to grip as well as throw due to the increased surface area and weight while shuriken should be the easiest since spin doesn't matter as much. With senbon, the needle has to travel a linear path otherwise the penetration power drop significantly.

No one ever died from having a needle bounce off of their armor. Probably. The problem is chakra control and application. Senbon are normally lightweight and easily influenced by things like wind and aftershocks from jutsu so chakra is applied to make them fly true. There isn't a homing feature so the best that I can do is apply chakra to my wrist to make the throw faster and harder. Hopefully, the enemy has an evil monologue. I really have no jutsu repertoire and probably won't for quite a while.

Pushing the needles carefully back into my hair, I return to the building. Just because it's the weekend doesn't mean I don't have chores.

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Cleaning my dish, I put it up to dry. It's not my day to dry and organize the dishes. Dinner's over, that means free time! Heading outside, I find a nice and quiet place to settle down. Glancing at my surroundings, I find my little helper keeping people away. Good, I pay her a bit from my allowance for this. Closing my eyes, I slowly let myself drift away. Settle my need for rest now and experiment with chakra under the covers later. Curiously, chakra makes no noise or light unless it's dense to the point where it's visible.