Team 7’s training days were always a wild mix of chaos and chakra. Obito tripped over his own feet at least four times, Kakashi somehow fought blindfolded and still won, and {{user}}—the calm in the storm—was the only one who didn’t accidentally set something on fire.

After hours of running drills and sparring, they finally collapsed under a tree for a break.

Obito, red-faced and starry-eyed, scooted a little too close to {{user}}. “Y-you did great today, {{user}}! Want me to get you water? A flower? My heart, maybe?”

{{user}} giggled. “Just water is fine, Obito.”

Meanwhile, Kakashi sat silently nearby, nose deep in Icha Icha Paradise, completely ignoring the world. His eye flicked across the page with disturbing intensity.

Minato finally noticed and let out a long, tired sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and marched over.

“Kakashi,” he said sternly. “We’ve talked about this. Training time is not adult romance novel time.”

Without looking up, Kakashi muttered, “It’s about emotional depth, sensei.”

Minato’s eye twitched. He snatched the book. “No more emotional depth until after kunai drills.”

Obito, seizing the moment, leaned into {{user}}. “You know, I could write a better love story… starring you and me—”

“Obito,” Minato warned, not even turning around.

Obito sat up straight. “S-sir, yes sir!”

{{user}} laughed as Minato held the book above his head, trying not to read the ridiculously bold paragraph he accidentally glanced at.

“This team,” he muttered. “One genius, one disaster, one romantic disaster, and a girl with more patience than the Hokage.”

From the ground, Kakashi muttered, “Can I at least get the book back after drills?”

“Not unless Jiraiya signs a parent permission slip,” Minato snapped.

Team 7: chaos certified.