It was the third week of Pakin’s journey to Kumogakure, and he was currently practicing his shuriken throwing in a park.

  He’d found this park on their second day in Yoshiwara, a much larger town than any of the others Pakin and Gera had visited. Pakin had been so excited to finally go somewhere in this new world with so many people. More people meant more food, more history, more culture for him to interrogate. Every second in his new body was filled with new experiences, and he couldn’t get enough. Thus, indulging in his curious senses, he’d taken to exploring the town right before starting his nightly training. Gera encouraged it, saying, “You gotta take at least some time off. It’d be a shame if you became a great shinobi without seeing any of that world you wanted to explore.”

  So he’d wandered around a bit. There was clearly a booming tourist industry here, but it seemed strange for this time of year. The food was delicious, but not particularly gimmicky or unique. The architecture and scenery were lovely, but not mind-blowing. The only thing that stuck out was a whole district of town he kept getting shooed out of. Some nosy adult would see him head towards the lavish-looking buildings and bustling streets and chauffeur him out. During one such instance, the woman walking with him took him to a nice park.

  It was much nicer than the woods outside of town and close to the inn where Pakin and Gera were staying. So, he’d told Gera about it and she’d agreed to start having their practice there, as long as it didn’t disturb other people. Luckily, with the cold winter air driving most folks indoors, there was hardly anyone around for them to disturb.

  Thunk

  Thunk

  Thunk

  He nailed the target with three shuriken, thrown one after the other. None hit the center, but he was glad they’d at least landed. Gera studied his work before pulling the throwing stars out of the cloth bundle.

  She had procured their new training dummy from the proprietress of the inn they were staying at. It was an old futon, bound tightly over an old fence post that stuck out the bottom, and painted with concentric red circles. She’d jumped several feet in the air and slammed the whole thing into the dirt, locking it in place.

  The thing was riddled with small tears and cuts where Pakin had hit his mark. He wondered if it’d last the rest of their stay in Yoshiwara.

  Gera had walked back over and had him sit down with her. He sat down slowly, not wanting to disturb the bruises forming all over his body. Pakin had gotten a little better since their first spar, but he still found himself holding back. Which meant he also found himself consistently punished.

  She chewed on her lip for a second before sighing, throwing her hands up in defeat and saying, “I give up.”

  “What?” He’d hit the targets just now, so why did she seem so exasperated? Hopefully it wasn’t about the spars. After their night in the woods, Gera had told him about her conversation with her ‘friend’ and how he’d given her a few ideas about how to help him with his reluctance. He still wasn’t sure how ‘friendly’ they were, since she’d punched him into the dirt after they’d talked.

  “I give up on your lectures you damn brainiac. I ran out of academy prep lessons after, like, the first week. I’ve just been teaching you random stuff since, and now I’m out of things that don’t require a whole lesson plan or textbooks.”

  “Oh, so will the things you taught me come up in the curriculum?” He wasn’t that upset. Gera's lessons were informative and interesting. Also, the Academy is a school, so it's not a big deal that he’d have to learn everything while he was there.

  “The first week of stuff will, but the rest, no. It’s the kind of thing they teach at officer school or specialized classes you can sign up for once you start doing missions. I’m sure it’ll still be useful at some point, but likely you won’t have to know half that stuff till you're a chunin or higher.”

  “Hm, okaaaayyyyy. So, what now?” Pakin was unsure what to do with this development. She’d been upfront about his training, but this was the first time he’d seen her so exasperated.

  “I don’t know.” Gera rolled over to lie on her side and used her hand to prop her head up. “We could do more training, or I could just answer any questions you have about being a shinobi. I’ll figure something out for tomorrow, but for today I’ll let you pick.” Then, with incredible class, she reached a finger up and used it to dig in her ear.

  Pakin wasn’t sure what he wanted to do; more training probably wouldn’t hurt. That said, this seemed like a good chance to ask Gera some questions that had been rattling around in his head for a while. The only question was, what question should he ask first?

  “Ah, I know! What’s it like at the Academy? What’s it going to be like when I get there?”

  Gera stopped scratching the inside of her ear for a second, and realization colored her face as she righted herself. “I never told you what’s gonna happen when we get to Kumo, did I?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Pakin shook his head; he’d always figured it’d be like a traditional primary school experience with a greater focus on physical education and instead of multiplication tables, you learn how to covertly sabotage supply lines. He kinda dreaded having to go through elementary school classes again, but he also hoped the ninja stuff would make it more fun.

  “Hmmm, well, first I should probably explain that you’re not actually learning in the Academy. You’ll be in the same building but part of a special program in a separate annex. It’s a recruitment and training program focused on acquiring talent from outside the village. See, most of the shinobi in Kumo aren’t born there, they’re recruited from the Daimyo’s standing army. They send us promising soldiers who are put through a crazy boot camp that lasts about half a year. If they make it to the end, they become genin.”

  Pakin supposed that made sense. The ninja villages in the show were pretty big, but the number of troops they fielded seemed much larger than you could sustain off birthrates alone.

  “Trouble is, those soldiers are usually already sixteen to eighteen. So, by the time they start training, they’re way weaker than shinobi from other villages of the same age. Other villages have satellite academies that gather potential shinobi from surrounding towns, but Kumo doesn’t do that. You’d know more about the history than me, but our old daimyo was apparently really scared of the shinobi and Kumogakure specifically, after the second shinobi war, so he forbid us from doing the same thing. Our new daimyo, though, is much cooler, so he sends us soldiers.”

  Pakin didn’t know the history, so this surprised him. He supposed a paranoid ruler would get nervous when the village of walking nukes wanted to spread their influence across the country. However, that didn’t explain why Kumo allowed themselves to be restrained like that.

  “Anyways, one of the Jonin thought this was pretty stupid. So, she created the External Talent Polishing Program, or Polisher Program for short. She took that half year of bootcamp and turned it into a full year of high-quality schooling. Then, every year, she sends out shinobi born outside the village and tasks them with rounding up an eleven-year-old from their town or city to bring back for her program. That was about five years ago, and Jonin Osako has been pumping out quality shinobi like yours truly, ever since.” Gera pointed a thumb at herself and grinned to emphasize her last statement.

  “Okay, but if we just get the same year of training as those older recruits, how does that change anything?”

  “Ah, there’s the kicker. See, it’s really only the last year at the Academy when students start to get trained in real shinobi stuff. Eleven is the agreed-upon age where kids can actually start learning ninjutsu, any earlier and they just don’t have the chakra reserves, let alone the intelligence, to use it. So while yes, six years of school is more than one, that last one is far more heavily weighted than the other five. Still, six would be better, but it’s a work in progress from what I understand.”

  “Okay. That’s good to know. What’s it gonna be like?”

  Gera rubbed the back of her head and answered reluctantly, “That I’m not too sure about. I was in the very first class from when the Polisher Program started. We didn’t even have the annex back then. They just stuck us in a big spare classroom and tried to keep us out of the way. So, it’s probably really different now.” She rocked her head from side to side, thinking aloud,” That being said, most of it should be similar to what I’ve been having you do. Just more structured and with lectures dispersed between training. School lasts about eight hours a day from like six in the morning to two in the afternoon.”

  That seemed pretty normal, like he’d expected. School was school after all.

  In fact, it was good that his coming education would be similar to traditional schooling, after all, Pakin had always been good at school. It was how he’d gotten into a good college with a killer scholarship, so he was sure that his classes at the Polisher Program wouldn’t be too hard to keep up with. That meant he could keep up his intensive training without sacrificing his grades. Did they even give grades in shinobi school? Pakin remembered them from old Pakin’s memories of elementary school, so they did exist in this world.

  “Will there be tests like in grade school? I know training is important, but should I be worried about keeping up with my studies?”

  “Yep, it’ll be just like elementary school. Speaking of, I was surprised to see Mr.Peko still kicking! I checked in on him before I came by your house for dinner, and he tried to get me to sit down and take a practice exam to make sure I still remembered my studies. Can you believe it?” Gera snickered at the memory of the persnickety old man.

  Pakin felt memories bubble up, and he remembered old Pakin's deep fear of the old man. He was apparently quite the harsh taskmaster for the children at Fuwayama Day School. So he laughed along with Gera, commiserating about an experience they should’ve shared. It made him a little sad.

  He hadn’t felt that guilt-laden sadness since they’d left Fuwayama. Probably because he wasn’t around as many people who had known the old Pakin. Every new person he met only knew him as he was now, so he didn’t need to put on an act to avoid making them uncomfortable. It was something he was growing increasingly grateful for as they got further towards Kumogakure.

  He wondered if, eventually, those memories from the old Pakin would stop altogether. His new identity totally consuming the remnants of the old. How long would it take? At that point, would he even recognize his old memories, or would they feel like some kind of vague dream? Something about those thoughts deeply discomfited him, but it was also something he’d have to confront eventually. Not today though.

  “But, yeah, tests and grades will still be important in the program. Like I said, though, I’m not worried about you acing those. It’s pretty fortunate, actually, that stuff is weighted pretty heavily when selecting for the advanced classes.” Gera finished speaking, and then her eyes grew wide as she grabbed Pakin by the shoulders and stated gravely, “I did not just say that. Do you understand Pakin?”

  “Yes, Gera sensei.” He felt the formality was important in easing his teacher’s anxiety.

  She released him and fell on her butt in relief whispering “Osako’ll kill me if she finds out I let that slip.” She raised her head to look at Pakin and gave him a conspiratorial wink.

  Oh, I guess I have to secretly aim for those advanced classes then. Whatever that means. Probably something like accelerated learning for the high achievers. Pakin felt the familiar weight of expectation settle over his shoulders as he set his sights on top grades for his second life.