Final Evaluation

There isn’t much of a difference in the room when Iruka returns. The other genin are still in the same position as when he had left. Team 8 has returned to their earlier spot, but this time Kurenai has joined them. They’ve pulled their chairs into a circle; and despite Kiba’s enthusiastic gestures, Iruka can’t hear a word they’re saying. It makes Iruka wonder how Kurenai is pulling that off. Is her team in a genjutsu or is everyone else?

Kiba pulls out his folder, opened wide so his teammates can see. After a couple more wild gestures that culminate in Kiba turning to point at him, Shino and Hinata open their files, leaving them viewable by everyone. Kurenai catches his eye and nods, a soft smile on her lips.

Team 8 vanishes from sight.

Naruto yelps, jumping to his feet, “Where did they go?”

“They disappeared?” Chouji gasps, a handful of chips frozen before his mouth.

“Your jounin-sensei are very capable. They have much to teach you, if you’re willing to learn.” Iruka’s aware that when he speaks, he sounds like he knows how Kurenai managed that. He suspects it is a genjutsu, but he has no idea who is trapped in it or what part of their perception it’s changing.

Not that it matters. He might as well take the opportunity to encourage the genin to learn from their sensei. Cool jutsu are always an excellent motivator to foster a thirst for knowledge in anyone.

“Team 10, you’re next.” Ino leaps to her feet immediately. She’s preparing to say something scathing to Sakura, so Iruka clears his throat. “Follow me quietly,” he stops to give Ino a hard look before continuing, “and quickly.” Shikamaru receives the same look Ino got, but where Ino had immediately straightened up and followed orders, Shikamaru lets out a truly pained groan, picking up his pace just enough to be considered walking faster. Chouji sends him a sympathetic smile, gently prodding Shikamaru to walk faster.

Iruka turns and exits the room, taking calming breaths to quell the sudden pressure he feels. This is his last chance to get through to them. If they walk out of this building still refusing to take their career seriously, there’s nothing he can do for them.

They’ll either die, or worse, one of their teammates will die. Surviving the guilt that your teammate died because you couldn’t help them, because you didn’t train to hard enough, because you never took things seriously that’s not the sort of thing Iruka would ever wish upon his students. It’s crushing. It’s debilitating. It’s unbearable.

Iruka has seen stronger shinobi crushed under the weight of that sort of burden.

Once he’s in his office, he pulls Team 10’s folder out of his desk and settles into his seat. Ino snags the chair directly in front of him, eager and determined; Shikamaru slumps into the chair closest to the door, which is the same one Kurenai had moved from the back; Chouji sits down between Ino and Shikamaru, absentmindedly fiddling with his bag of chips; and Asuma settles into the final seat beside Ino.

“To begin this meeting, I thought we could start with everyone’s rank.”

“Don’t we already know those?” Chouji offers his bag of chips to Ino who scowls at him and returns her attention to Iruka. “Ino’s second, I’m twentieth, and Shika’s seventeen.” He keeps nudging Ino with the bag of chips and his efforts pay off because after a minute of prodding, Ino flicks Chouji’s nose and takes a couple of chips, the smallest grin tugging at her lips.

“Those ranks are based solely on test scores, which makes them inaccurate. Your unofficial ranking is a much more reliable measurement of your abilities in comparison to your peers.”

“So, my rank might have gone down?” The bag of chips crinkles in Chouji’s hand, but before Iruka can comfort him, Shikamaru nudges him.

“Your grade is more likely to have gone up than down.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Ino grumbles. She’s clenching her jaw and Iruka knows she’s running through a list of her classmates trying to determine if she’s fallen in rank.

“Chouji, you are eighth in the class.”

“What? For real?” The bag of chips ends up crushed in his grip and a manic grin spreads over his lips.

“For real,” Iruka laughs. Ino looks very nervous, but Iruka’s content to let her stew for a few minutes. It’s not the nicest thing he could do, but it’ll make the reveal more satisfying. “Shikamaru, you’re twenty-seventh.” For the first time, Iruka gets a reaction out of Shikamaru that isn’t bored disinterest or annoyed compliance. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that the three people below him are also the three people that failed the graduation exam and didn’t get a chance to be assigned to a jounin-sensei.

He’s shocked, startled, surprised.

Good. That’s exactly how Iruka wants him to feel.

Ino looks like she’s about to be sick. Iruka fights down a smile while he tells her, grim and serious, “Ino, you are ranked first in the class.”

“I—I—what—wait—but—” She’s stammering, words falling out of her mouth, fragments of a frazzled mind. “But what about Sasuke? If I’m first, what’s Sasuke?” She seems to be returning to her senses, but only for the wrong reason.

“I’m not going to discuss Sasuke’s ranking with you when I haven’t spoken with him, yet.” He stops talking here, giving Ino the most disapproving frown he can muster. Ino’s habit of wanting to know everything about everyone isn’t a habit he takes issue with. His problem is that she very rarely bothers to be sneaky about it and rarely hunts down information that can’t be obtained simply by asking a target.

She wilts under his stare, from past experience she knows exactly why she’s getting a death stare. “Sorry, Iruka-sensei.” She’s eyeing his desk while she says it. A sign that she’s plotting to break into it and get a glance at Sasuke’s file. A much more appropriate reaction for a ninja.

He places a hand on top of Team Ten’s file, just in case she gets any ideas about how to distract him from the locked file in his desk.

“It sounds like this team isn’t a traditional Ino-Shika-Cho. Did I end up with the mould-breaking team?”

“All three of the teams that passed their exam are mould-breaking teams, so yes.” Iruka informs Asuma.

“What are mould-breaking teams?” Ino frowns.

“Mould-breaking teams are a team of genin who’s skillset is well-balanced, though on paper they seem unfairly balanced. That’s why I told Naruto two days ago that the best student is traditionally placed with the worst. Placing the academy student with the most potential on the same team as the student with the least is a terrible way to nurture their growth; therefore, teams are only created like this when academy tests are unable to fairly measure a student’s skills. This usually happens in situations when one student excels in an area that we don’t test.

“For example, a student who’s mediocre across the three ninja basics but excels in impersonation, disguise, and interrogation skills may end up at the bottom of the class. In reality, they don’t belong there and their rank is a result of being highly specialized early in their career. We call them mould-breaking students because they break the mould of how we would traditionally place genin into teams. Any team containing a mould-breaking student is automatically considered a structured team instead of a formless one.”

“Wait,” Ino holds up one hand, “does that mean teams without mould-breakers can be formless or structured?”

There’s a cigarette in Asuma’s mouth, but Iruka has no idea when the man pulled it out nor when he lit it. He takes a deep drag, chuckling out plumes of smoke. “Exactly right, little lady. Depending on how Iruka split you up will determine if your team is structured or formless. Structured teams are usually grouped together because their skillsets complement each other; formless teams are placed together because they match physical capabilities."

“They match physical capabilities?” Chouji asks. “What does that mean?”

“It means that physically they’re all the same. They run at the same speed for the same distance. They can lift about the same amount of weight. They have the same accuracy with kunai and shuriken.” Asuma takes another slow drag from his cigarette.

“Why would you build a team like that?” Ino gasps. “If everyone is the same, how do they know what position they fill on the team?”

“The benefit of a team like that,” Asuma explains, “is that the genin get to decide that for themselves. If everyone has the same baseline, then it really doesn’t matter who fills what role. Genin from formless teams tend to end up highly specialized as a result of being able to experiment with the different specialties and focusing on the one they enjoy the most; whereas, genin from structured teams tend to end up well rounded because they have to learn to fill in the gaps that come from everyone having similar skills. For example, a combat team might require everyone to learn the basics of tracking because no one can reliably do it when they first begin.” Asuma will make a good teacher for these three. He’s patient and willing to answer questions. And these kids will ask a lot of questions.

“In the end,” Iruka adds, “teams end up determined by whether I think you’ll be better off figuring out your skillset on your own of if I tell you.”

“Any more questions?” Asuma blows a perfect ring of smoke, it halos over his head, twists and turns into several different shapes before disappearing.

Chouji and Shikamaru look far too impressed with the trick and Iruka gives the man the most disapproving glare he can muster in an attempt to shame him into putting out his cigarette.

“Yeah,” Ino wrinkles her nose, “do you know smoking is bad for you?”

The cigarette almost slips from between Asuma’s lips. Iruka gives Ino an approving smile and she winks at him while Asuma chuckles, “With good chakra control, there are ways around that.”

“Moving on,” Iruka resists the urge to glare at Asuma because that’s not the sort of information you should ever give to young impressionable children, “I will now begin with your assessment. As always, I’ll begin alphabetically.” Ino and Chouji look uncomfortable, but Shikamaru yawns, eyes drooping shut. “Chouji, you are passionate, enduring, and reliable. You always do your best to tackle any challenge presented to you. Your greatest asset is your ability to follow orders. Often times, during class exercises, your ability to stick to an agreed upon plan is the reason your group managed to succeed their task or salvage a failed one.” Chouji is beginning to look embarrassed, eyes dropping to the table, and that won’t do. Iruka won’t have any of his students ashamed of being willing to do what they’re told. “Most people put more stock in leadership; however, good leaders are worthless unless they have competent followers.”

“He’s right, kid. There’s no point in having a leader if there aren’t any followers.” Asuma takes a deep drag of his cigarette. “Finding a good leader is easy. They’re a dime a dozen. But a good follower? Someone who can be trusted to stick to the plan and doesn’t need to be strong-armed into doing as told? Now there’s a novelty any team would be lucky to have.”

There’s a faint pink to Chouji’s cheeks, the bag crinkles in his hand. “I know all of this. You tell me all the time, Iruka-sensei.”

“I’d stop telling you, if you’d stop doubting me.” Iruka makes sure to be firm, but gentle with his reprimand. Some of his students may need an extremely firm talking to without any of the gentleness that comes with reminding them that it’s okay that they’ve made mistakes because they’ve been trying their best, but Chouji isn’t one of them. Chouji needs to be reminded that he’s a good ninja and he must ignore all of his naysayers. He’s doing his best, he’s trying his hardest, he’s giving his all, which is more than some of his classmates can claim.

It’s not the time for that. Soon. Soon he’ll begin dealing with his students that couldn’t be bothered to put any effort in. For now, his primary focus is on making sure Chouji know he’s on the right path to becoming a powerful shinobi.

“Your physical conditioning is the best in the class, though I have noticed that you tend to avoid and slack off during speed exercises. I don’t where you got the idea that you can’t be fast and agile, but I do know it’s wrong and needs to disappear. Work on your speed and footwork. Both are important for people who specialize in taijutsu, as you currently do. Your taijutsu is excellent, both your ninjutsu and genjutsu are average. Your chakra control is average and your chakra reserves are above average. Of the three basic shinobi arts, you currently have the option to specialize in taijutsu, with slightly better chakra control, you will also have the option of a ninjutsu specialty.

“Your greatest weakness is your overreliance on your taijutsu. You won’t always have the luxury of getting close enough to your opponents to take them out with hand-to-hand combat. I highly recommend picking up a weapon to help you when you can’t touch your opponent, and depending on your choice of weapon, it can also help extend your reach quite a bit. You’ll also greatly benefit from learning some long ranged ninjutsu for the same reason.

“Taijutsu is one of the basic shinobi skills. It’s wonderful that you excel at it, but that doesn’t mean you can continue to neglect the other two skills.” This is the moment. This is the moment when Iruka will either sway Chouji to a better path or fail him completely. “The only way to get good at something is to practice it.” Iruka maintains eye contact, tries to will his own desperation for Chouji to succeed into the boy. “No more taking the easy route, Chouji. You’re not going to be able to bolster a failing grade with a skill you’re good at anymore. Your teammates are depending on you to be the best ninja you can be and the only way you can do that is by practicing in all the ninja arts, especially the ones that don’t come as easily to you. You need to keep practicing in them, until they are no longer a liability. Unless of course, that’s too difficult and you would rather let Ino and Shikamaru down.”

“No way, Iruka-sensei!” Chouji protests, back straight and the Will of Fire burning in his eyes. “I can do it! I won’t let anyone down!”

It’s exactly what Iruka wanted to see. He takes Chouji’s file, returning a hand to the top of Team Ten’s folder because he really can’t trust Ino, and flips through it one final time.

“Do you really think I could be fast and agile, Iruka-sensei? Everyone in my clan uses a slow and sturdy form of taijutsu.”

Right now, Chouji fights like his father who fights like his father who fights like his father. It’s an unbroken chain, most prevalent in the Ino-Shika-Cho legacy. Chouji fights like every other Akimichi out there. Iruka’s problem with this is that the Akimichi’s have been around for a very long time. If you know how to fight one Akimichi, you know how to fight all of them. Iruka doesn’t want to send Chouji out in the field when he relies so heavily on a known combat-style. Chouji doesn’t need to change everything about how he fights, he doesn’t need to abandon his family’s teaching, he just needs to make it his own.

Iruka doesn’t want Chouji in the field relying on the Akimichi combat-style, he wants him to go out there comfortable with the Chouji combat-style, a style that uses the Akimichi style as a base, but modifies it to fit an individual. He doesn’t know what that sort of style would look like, but a weapon would be a good start, as would some long ranged ninjutsu. Iruka doesn’t know what direction he’s sending Chouji in, he doesn’t know what direction he’ll be sending any of his students in, he just knows that he wants them to enter the ninja corps knowing that they aren’t to be satisfied with meeting the expectations of their clan, but they must strive to shatter their own limits and be the best form of themselves that they can possibly achieve.

“I think you can do anything you put your mind to. If you decide to create a taijutsu style of your own, cherry-picking parts from your clan’s signature style then, quite frankly, I believe you can do it. And more importantly, I’m sure your team will be more than happy to help you.”

“Absolutely,” Ino cheers, punching him in the arm. Shikamaru nudges Chouji with an elbow and gives him a small smile.

“I know a jounin who specializes in taijutsu who would be more than happy to help.” Asuma chuckles around his cigarette, finally looking up from Chouji’s file. “Way more than happy to help.”

Iruka did not hand over Chouji’s file. He’s had one hand on top of the folder this entire time to prevent Ino from taking a peek before he is ready to let her see. Just because he approved of her nosy habits, doesn’t mean he’ll ever make it easy for her. If she wants to take a look at something without Iruka’s permission, she’s going to improve herself to the point where he can’t stop her.

Regardless, why hadn’t he noticed that the file was missing. When he opened it up, he should have realized Asuma had taken one. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he had to hand the extra copy over. It is a bit terrifying that somehow Asuma had managed to make him forget to do something essential to this meeting.

“Your file looks good, Chouji,” Asuma continues. “If you’re willing to put in the work, you’ll make one helluva shinobi.”

Ino is staring at Asuma with the same sort of reverence Chouji and Shikamaru had given him earlier. “How? When? Iruka-sensei's hand has been there the entire time! How did you—”

“Woah, calm down there, little lady. I’m a jounin, it’s kinda expected of me to be able to steal information from a chunin.”

It’s true, even if it’s annoying.

“But, how did you do it? I’ve been watching his hand the whole time!”

“Have you now?” Asuma chuckles. “Are you absolutely positive about that.” He exhales another ring of smoke that swirls around the room, changing its shape into that of a bouquet, which settles above Ino’s lap. When it dissipates a second later, Ino’s file is resting in her lap.

Ino gasps, picking up her file and flipping through it for a second, before Asuma tugs it out of her hands.

“It only takes a second to steal something. If you can get your target to look away for one second than you can steal from them every single time.”

“Woah. You’re kinda cool for an old man.” Ino tells him.

Iruka clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him, and hands Chouji his file along with a book. “I’m giving you a library book about weapons and how they can be incorporated into taijutsu. If you’d like, you can take a look through it and see if you can find any inspiration for where you want to take your taijutsu.”

“Thanks, Iruka-sensei!” Chouji cheers, unbothered when Ino pulls the file out of his hands to take a look at it.

“You’re welcome, Chouji. Now, Shikamaru, you’re up next.”

Shikamaru sighs, slouching deeper into his seat, which is rather impressive. Iruka forces himself to ignore it.

It’s time.

“Shikamaru, my primary recommendation is that you exit the ninja program.”

The silence is immediate. Ino and Chouji startle slightly, jerking to stare at Shikamaru before their gaze slowly shifts back to Iruka. There’s a simmer of anger boiling in their eyes. Asuma cocks his head to the side slightly, eyebrows raised. His expression settles into something more neutral as he skims through Shikamaru’s file that he had apparently stolen with Chouji’s and Ino’s.

“Quite frankly, I had no intention of passing you, but I was overruled by some of the other instructors.”

“That’s not fair, Iruka-sensei! Shikamaru’s a good ninja.” Chouji cracks first, rushing to Shikamaru’s defence.

“He’s not. Shikamaru is one of the worst ninjas in the class.” Iruka corrects him, never breaking eye contact with Shikamaru whose bored gaze has sharpened into something intense.

“He can’t be the worst,” Ino protests. “It’s not like he’s Naruto.”

“Naruto,” Iruka says, containing his indignation, “is an infinitely better ninja than Shikamaru.” Asuma gives him a look that says he noticed the bias, but none of the kids have, so Iruka considers it a moot point.

“How can Naruto be a better ninja than Shikamaru?” Chouji is offended, jumping to his feet and looking ready to fight. Ino will probably join in without hesitation. Still, Iruka doesn’t look away from Shikamaru.

“He puts in effort,” Iruka says, voice sharp and cutting. Chouji and Ino freeze, and Iruka’s aware of the almost guilty looks they throw at Shikamaru, despite not seeing them. Because they’re all aware they can’t argue that.

They can’t defend Shikamaru from an accusation like that.

“Shikamaru, you are in the worse physical condition in your entire class. There are students in the classes below you who are in better shape. This would be forgivable if it was something out of your control, if you naturally had a weak constitution and did your best to make up for it in other ways, if you tried to improve despite it being physically impossible for you. But we both know that’s not true. You’re not out of shape because of nature, you’re out of shape because you’re lazy and don’t want to put the work in.”

“It’s not like being in shape is the most important thing,” Chouji says, softly. “Shika’s really smart, Iruka-sensei.”

“Is he?” Iruka asks amused. He knows Shikamaru’s smart. Shikamaru knows that Iruka knows he’s smart, but that doesn’t change anything. “And how am I supposed to know that? From the tests he only bothered to answer half the answers on or from the tests he slept through and handed in blank?”

They wince. Both Ino and Chouji wince and their eyes drop to the floor. “Still, Iruka-sensei, don’t you think you’re being a little hard on him,” Ino mumbles.

“Yes,” Iruka agrees with her. “I’m being very hard on him.”

Iruka can sense her irritation instantly, but continues to ignore it. Shikamaru still hasn’t said anything, though his hands have tightened into fists.

“Then why are you doing this, sensei?” Chouji sounds betrayed when he speaks, as if he can’t believe Iruka would do this to one of his students.
He clearly has no idea how far Iruka will go to prepare his students for the real world.

“Because Survivor’s Guilt is hard enough to cope with when there’s nothing that could have been done to change the situation.” Asuma says, exhaling another mouthful of smoke. “It’s a whole other ordeal if you have something to regret, like not putting any effort into your training?”

“Survivor’s Guilt?” Chouji asks, “What’s that?”

“I’ve heard of that,” Ino murmurs. “That’s like when you go on a mission with someone and they die, but you live and you blame yourself, right?”

“That’s the bare bones of it,” Asuma agrees. “Iruka is giving Shikamaru hell because he’s diagnosed him with a very high chance of experiencing it as a result of his laziness.”

“But if he’s lazy,” Ino protests, “wouldn’t that mean he’s more likely to die than Chouji or I?”

“That’s where being smart comes into play.” Asuma taps his cigarette and ashes fall, but they vanish before they hit the ground. “His intelligence means that Shikamaru is the most likely to survive if there’s a life-and-death situation when I’m not around.”
Shikamaru flinches.

“If we were to get ambushed, I wouldn’t be able to order you to safety because Shikamaru wouldn’t be able to get out of range fast enough for it to be worth it. I’d have to settle for trying to protect you and deal with our assailants at the same time.”

There’s another flinch, but this time Shikamaru’s skin slowly begins to pale.

“If the three of you need to rush somewhere to gain medical help or call for reinforcements, you most likely won’t be able to do it unless someone stays behind to distract an enemy because Shikamaru will slow you down. Ideally in a situation like that, you’d leave Shikamaru behind, but realistically, he won’t be capable of keeping anyone from chasing you unless he gets the drop on them. If they slip past him for even a second, they will outrun him.”

Shikamaru’s trembling. Iruka feels terrible, but he does nothing to stop Asuma from speaking. Shikamaru needs to hear this. He needs to know that all of his slacking off has turned him into a liability and deadweight.

All the brains in the world won’t make up for shoddy physical conditioning. If ‘Heaven’ doesn’t exist, enrich your knowledge and prepare for the chance. If ‘Earth’ does not exist, run the fields in search of an advantage. A ninja needs both. It’s their responsibility and duty to train both. Shikamaru couldn’t be bothered, which is why they’re having this conversation.

“A team is only as strong as its weakest link. Shikamaru, when it comes to the physical components of this team, you are the weak link. An extremely weak link.” Iruka isn’t gentle with this reminder. He tried gentle already and Shikamaru brushed it off without giving the advice a single thought. “If you don’t want to leave the ninja program entirely, you could join the Cryptology Department or even one of the Information Departments, you would enjoy either one of those.”

“I want to work in the field,” Shikamaru says, voice shaky and unsure. He doesn’t sound like the same bored genius Iruka’s gotten used to.

“Are you sure?” Iruka asks. “You’ve spent this past year wasting my time and squandering your potential.”

Chouji and Ino both have chakra flares that indicate there’s an outburst coming, but Asuma does something Iruka doesn’t see that prevents it.

Shikamaru hesitates, but nods.

Not good enough.

“Promise,” Iruka orders.

“I promise,” Shikamaru parrots immediately to him. But, it’s not good enough. A promise like that could never be good enough in the long run.

“Not to me,” Iruka corrects. He stands up, walks around the desk to stand beside Shikamaru. After pulling the boy to his feet, Iruka directs him to face his teammates, both who have their mouths covered by Asuma. “Promise your teammates you will do everything in your power to catch up to them. Promise them you will shatter your own limitations and always do your very best.”

Shikamaru doesn’t respond, staring at his teammates with an expression Iruka can only guess at.

“A team is only as strong as its weakest link. Every time you refuse to push yourself to your full potential, you hold your teammates back and stop them from reaching their own.” Iruka forces himself to stop speaking here. He can’t keep beating a dead horse. Either Shikamaru will promise or he won’t. Iruka can’t force the promise.

Not if he wants Shikamaru to take it to heart and keep it.

“I promise,” Shikamaru mutters, “to do my best and not to hold you back. I’ll grow strong, so you can too.” His voice is quiet, but firm.

It resonates inside Iruka’s head and he hopes with all his might that Shikamaru means it. That he means it and sticks to that promise.

Asuma blows out another smoke ring, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips, and Iruka is happy enough that he doesn’t bother to glare at him. He rests one hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder. “Then let’s go over your assessment so you know where you stand.”

“Okay, Iruka-sensei.” Shikamaru agrees, plopping back into his seat.

When Iruka settles down into his chair, he notices immediately that Shikamaru is paying attention to him. It’s the most attention Iruka has ever gotten from him, including when Iruka tested him for the taijutsu portion of the graduation exam. “Shikamaru, you are intelligent, crafty, and strategic. Your greatest asset is your mind. You’re able to deduce your enemies motives and plans from barely more than a glance. You often think many moves ahead and make preparations in case there’s a sudden change to your opponents actions, forcing them into traps they had thought they had avoided.

“Your taijutsu is well-below average, your ninjutsu and genjutsu are also below average. I’ve noticed that you rely heavily on your use of your family’s jutsu, which would be fine if you weren’t extremely reliant on light sources, which you can’t always control. To get around that, I recommend polishing up your taijutsu because I highly doubt it matters where the sun is positioned if you’re punching your opponent in the face.” Shikamaru physically reacts to that, eyes wide and sitting up straight, and Iruka wonders if the thought had never occurred to him. It’s possible it hadn’t. Shikamaru is a Nara and Iruka can’t think of a single Nara who willingly engages in taijutsu. “Your chakra control is mediocre as are you reserves. Until you polish up your control and physical conditioning, you only have the option for a ninjutsu specialty.

“Your primary weakness is your physical conditioning and laziness, which we have already discussed, and your tendency to wait. You like to gather as much information as possible before you move. In the short term that’s not a problem, but realistically, information gathering is a luxury. If it’s available get it, if it’s vital get it, if it would be nice to have, but ultimately unimportant then don’t bother waiting around for it. Waiting around for information can be just as dangerous as acting without it. Find a balance and you’ll be good to go.” Iruka picks up Shikamaru’s file and flips through it very quickly to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He hands it to Shikamaru a sheet of paper attached to it. “I’ve attached a customized training schedule to it that will help you get up to the genin standard physical conditioning in four months, if you decide to follow it."

“A customized training schedule?” Asuma chuckles. “What am I supposed to do if you give him that? Stand around looking pretty?”

Iruka rolls his eyes. “Don’t pretend the only thing you were going to do with them was physical conditioning. I’m sure you have plenty of tricks up your sleeves that you can teach them.”

“Thank you, Iruka-sensei.” Shikamaru mumbles, skimming through the training schedule. Ino is half crawled into Chouji’s lap, so she can snatch his assessment and Chouji is reading the schedule over his shoulder.

“You’re welcome, Shikamaru. Do your best, okay?”

Shikamaru nods, just once, and seems to zone out once more. However, when Iruka turns to Ino, he notices the way Shikamaru watches him, eyes focused in a way they hadn’t been seconds ago.

It leaves Iruka feeling delightfully hopeful.

“Ready, Ino?”

“I was born ready,” Ino chirps, sitting back in her seat, both Chouji’s and Shikamaru’s assessments in her hands.

“Ino, you are ambitious, realistic, and charismatic. You are very good at dragging the best out of people, even if you have to trick them to get the results you want. Without a doubt, you are the best shinobi in the class. Your greatest strength is your ability to read a situation and manipulate it to your liking. Whether that means convincing someone to do something very stupid or conning them into believing a very stupid lie, somehow you always find a way to benefit from any situation.

“Your taijutsu is above average and your ninjutsu and genjutsu are well above average. I have noticed, though, that you tend to shy away from taijutsu, using it as a last resort, even when you would be able to finish your opponent quickly in a straight hand-to-hand combat fight. If you can take them out with taijutsu, you should. There’s no point doing something fancy or wasting chakra when you don’t have to. Of the three basic arts, you have the option to specialize in ninjutsu, taijutsu, or genjutsu. Additionally, your above average chakra control gives you the option to specialize in medical jutsu.

“Your greatest weakness is your lack of focus.” Iruka holds up a hand when Ino looks ready to protest. “You should have been the Rookie of the Year, Ino. However, during the taijutsu portion of the graduation exam, Sakura barely passed and that took its toll on you. I watched as you went from flawlessly completing the exam to bombing your taijutsu section because you were too distracted by what was going on with Sakura. That cost you the title. Furthermore, it’s unacceptable to have that sort of attention lapse in the field.”

“He’s right,” Asuma chimes in. “If someone goes down in the field, the only way you’ll be able to help them is if you finish off your opponent first. You gotta learn how to block that sort of stuff out and focus on what’s in front of you. It’s the only way you’ll be able to safely help your teammates.”

“I’ll finish this off with one more word of advice. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Sakura and I don’t know why you ended your friendship, but I highly recommend that you patch things up with her.” Iruka really doesn’t know exactly what happened between them. He knows it involves Sasuke in some way, but other than that he’s not sure.

It was a slow and unfortunate process because it cost both of them. Though their friendship hadn’t seemed to be officially over until a few days ago, unofficially the ruined relationship had occurred roughly halfway into the school year. The results were blindly obvious to anyone who could be bothered to look. Ino’s theoretical work had dropped from near perfect to above average, allowing Shino and occasionally Sasuke to edge her out on written tests.

Sakura, on the other hand, had experienced the drop in her physical conditioning and taijutsu. She had gone from very good for a civilian student, placing her somewhere in the upper half of the class, to barely acceptable for a student.

Unfortunately, at this stage in her career, the physical portion of Shinobi work is more important than the theoretical portion. If a genin doesn’t know something, then their teammate can fill them in on it. It’s not too big of a deal. If a genin can’t run a distance in a certain amount of time, nothing can be done unless someone carries them, which is an incredibly unreasonable expectation for their genin teammates.

“But, she’s the one—” Ino tries to argue, but Iruka knocks sharply on the desk and she quiets down.

“As I said, I don’t know what happens and I don’t need to know. I’m just saying, Sakura used to be your best friend. The two of you made each other better ninja. You were both benefitting greatly from your friendship and I really can’t imagine why either of you would want to end things over Sasuke.”

“I thought you didn’t know why we’re fighting,” Ino huffs at him.

“I don’t.”

“Sasuke? What the hell’s a Sasuke?” Asuma asks, as if he has no idea who the last Uchiha is, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“The cutest boy in the village.” Ino informs him immediately, eyeing him in the suspicious way she does when she thinks someone’s trying to manipulate her.

“Oh, little lady—”

“You know my name is Ino, right?”

“—don’t throw away a friendship for a boy. Trust me, you’re going to be so busy for the next several months, you won’t even have time to think about boys. Besides, you really shouldn’t even consider dating until you’re a chunin.”

“Wait? Why?” She jumps to her feet, turning on Asuma, only to be forced back into her seat by a mildly amused Chouji.

“Because your time as a genin is supposed to teach you survival skills. Gaining your chunin rank proves that you have the skills to survive a variety of situations.”

“But, we already learned survival skills. Iruka-sensei was very thorough.” Chouji pipes up.

“You’re misunderstanding me.” Asuma sighs. “Genin, despite going on the lowest ranked missions, technically have the highest mortality rate.” There’s a brief pause when the other children exchange worried glances. “It’s not as bad here in Konoha because we assign genin to a jounin, but other countries lose a vast majority of their genin on missions. They sustain these losses by having a bigger military force, but quite frankly that doesn’t change their mortality rates. When I decide you’re ready for the chunin exams, you’ll be squaring off genin who have survived incredibly dangerous situations without a jounin to teach them. They will all assume that you are soft and haven’t experienced danger without a buffer and they won’t be wrong.

“If you can make chunin, beating many of them out for the rank, you will prove that you’re capable of surviving dangerous and hostile situations without the need for supervision, which means you can do what you want with your time. Before you make chunin, though? If you have time to date, you aren’t training hard enough nor are you taking full advantage of having a jounin sensei. If it takes you too long to make chunin, quite frankly, you’ll be dropped from my care and placed into the Genin Corps as it will be safe to assume that you don’t have the potential or ambition to go further and there’s no reason to tie up a jounin for longer than necessary. I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen to any of you, but if you waste time on dating instead of training it just might.”

“You can fight over Sasuke later, Ino. For now, though, you’d be better off with a friend in Sakura,” Iruka tells her gently. He hands over her file to the girl, having skimmed through it while Asuma lectured his students. “The book I’m giving you is about how to stay focused and ignore distractions. I encourage you to go through it and see if any of it will help with that wandering mind of yours.”

“Thanks, sensei!” Ino flips through her file rapidly, comparing it to both Shikamaru’s and Chouji’s.

“Well, the only thing left now is for me to explain how I put this team together.” Iruka smiles at the kids, subtly checking the chakra outside the room, and he thinks he senses Kakashi, but the sensation vanishes fast enough that Iruka can’t be sure.

Asuma cocks his head, chakra flicker out of existence and proving Iruka hadn’t been as subtle as he thought. “Are you going to leave anything for me to do? Not that I’m complaining, but I’m started to feel cheated. My genin evaluation amounted to you're good at ninjutsu and taijutsu, stick to those.”

“Your instructor was garbage, then.” Iruka scowls because this is the second complaint he’s gotten about being too thorough and it’s starting to make him a little self-conscience. Is he doing this right? This is the first time he’s had genin evaluations to undergo. These are the first genin he’s graduating into the forces.

He’d gotten a similar evaluation when he’d first become a genin. Not from the academy instructors, but from Ibiki-sensei a couple of weeks after training under him. Iruka remembers the man complaining the whole time about how the academy hadn’t provided him with nearly enough information about his team of genin and to avoid that unnecessary stress to this year’s jounin sensei, Iruka’s providing the information now, so they don’t have to waste time figuring it out on their own.

“I’ll say,” Asuma chuckles.

“Anyways, the three of you are designed as an information gathering team. Ino, you get the information; Shikamaru, you decode or hide it; Chouji, you’re the muscle or distraction.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Ino chirps.

“It’s really not.” Iruka disputes. “A lot of your work will involve infiltration which has the potential to end horribly if you’re caught. On top of gaining access to the information, Ino, you’re going to need to be able to memorize anything you can’t swap out. There’s not a lot of point in stealing information if others know you took it, so you’ll be memorizing boring tidbits that are pages long. To help you gain access, I’m going to have to recommend both taking acting lessons from the Seduction Corps and picking up a couple genjutsu. I’ve given Hinata the permission slip for acting lessons. The first one is tomorrow at 19:00, if you’d like to take them, feel free to join her.”

“You’ve even arranged for supplementary lessons for them. Are you sure there’s something left for me?” Asuma looks far too amused, so Iruka sends a scathing glare his way.

“I’m definitely going to show up, Iruka-sensei.” Ino chirps.

“Good. Now, many of the things you’ll be looking at will be coded and when you drop off information, you’ll have to code it for security purposes. I’ve arranged for you to take lessons with the Code-Breaking section of the Information Department, Shikamaru. The first lesson will be at the same time as Ino’s. If you’re interested all you have to do is show up in room 304A2.”

“I’ll be there,” Shikamaru mumbles. “It’ll be a nice break from the hell you call a training schedule.”

“Don’t worry, Shika, I’ll go through the exercises with you.” Chouji says, “It won’t be nearly as bad if you have someone with you.”

“I’ll tag along as well,” Ino laughs. “Someone’s has to laugh as Chouji drags your tired ass to meetup with Asuma-sensei.”

That was exactly what Iruka was hoping for. He shares a small grin with Asuma who looks almost excited to start working with his team.

“Chouji, your teammates will often be very focused on their task, which means it’s your responsibility to deal with outside threats. You’re going to want to pick up detection skills like chakra sensing. And you’re definitely going to need to learn how to deal with multiple opponents. I assume Asuma will be more than happy to teach you this while your teammates are at their other lessons.”

Chouji glances at Asuma who grins at him. “Kid, by the time I’m finished with you, you’re going to be an impenetrable wall. Nobody’ll be getting passed you to go at your teammates.”

“In pure combat situations, your roles are simple, but they do overlap,” Iruka continues. “Chouji herds the enemy, Shikamaru either prepares a trap or springs it, and Ino helps herd the enemy or springs the trap. Your team currently lacks a way to attack long-ranged, but I’ll leave you to figure that out. Ninjutsu is the way most people go about it, though.”

Iruka resists the urge to stretch, these meetings are starting to stress him out and he’s really not looking forward to dealing with Team 7, despite Naruto being on that team. He’s not even sure if Kakashi is there for him to do so. Maybe he’ll get a break. He hands each genin a small folder on their team breakdown, only remembering there’s one for Asuma when he sees the man skimming though it. Jounin are so annoying.

“That’s everything I have for you. I’ll be posting the unofficial rankings after I speak with Team 7, if you’re interested in how your peers truly stacked up, I recommend hanging around until then. Furthermore, I will be having a discussion with Sakura, so Ino, I hope you stay long enough to speak with her afterwards.” Iruka hopes this stupid feud between them is over before they leave the building. “Congratulations on making genin, now go out there and raise some hell for me.”

Iruka’s former students all look so happy and proud that Iruka can’t quite contain his own grin and beaming pride. “Thanks for everything, Iruka-sensei!” Ino launches herself over the desk and hops into his arms, pecking him on the cheek.

Iruka responds by smacking her hand away from his desk drawer. “Nice try.”

“Damn,” Ino grumbles, hopping back over the desk to her teammates. “One of these days, you’re not going to be able to stop me.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he tells her.

“Every teachers proudest moment is when their student surpasses them.” Asuma informs her.

“So, when I can kick your ass—”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, little lady.” Asuma blows out another smoke ring and Iruka desperately wishes he’d stop making that filthy habit look impressive to the new genin. “It’ll be awhile before you can take me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ino’s puffing up, horribly offended, but Iruka tears himself away from the spectacle when Shikamaru approaches him, making the effort to walk around the desk to stand beside him.

“Your primary recommendation was that I quit the ninja academy, but you had a training schedule and extra lessons prepared for me.”

“I did.”

Shikamaru is watching him with contemplative eyes. “Why bother if I’m one of the worst ninja in the class?”

“Because you have the potential to be amazing.” Iruka swivels the chair enough to face Shikamaru. “It was incredibly obvious that you needed some kind of wake up call in order to bring it out. I’d rather you have it here, within the school, then out there, on the battlefield.”

Shikamaru nods, still not quite revealing what he’s thinking. After a moment, he sighs and looks away. “No wonder you’re everyone’s favourite teacher.”

Iruka blinks, not quite sure what to do with that statement, but Shikamaru’s already heading for the door, followed by Chouji who drags a mutinous Ino along.

“I can’t believe you put that idea in his head,” Asuma chuckles. “Can you imagine a Nara that’s proficient in taijutsu? That kid’s going to be a monster.”

“That was the intention,” Iruka pulls Team 7’s folder out of his desk, and for good measures clutches it close to his chest.

Asuma is clearly amused, though he makes no attempt to swipe it from him, walking towards the door. “You gave me a few diamonds in the rough, all that’s left is for me to cut and polish ‘em. It’ll be fun as hell to see where they go from here.” He exits, leaving Iruka to his thoughts.

Two down, one left.