feferi:

“im just saying,” i begin, emptying the box of cake mix into a bowl, “how do ninjas reconcile a culture of secrecy with the existence of the internet.”

“hold on,” you say, “it’s my birthday, no – you promised–”

i turn on the mixer, low speed. “naruto has a laptop,” i continue, unimpressed, scraping at the edges of the bowl. “how are you gonna be anbu if i can google you.”

“please,” you say, scrambling for the door. “please.” but it is too late, the door is gone, a log laying in its place, and i have not even yet begun to discuss computer-based genjutsu,