As I walked through the busy morning streets, the differences in Konoha were stark. Before the Nine-Tails attack, the village had a certain charm. The new buildings, however, were entirely utilitarian. The village was turning into a fortress bracing for the next disaster.
The Academy itself reflected this philosophy. The complex of the past had been replaced by a fortified structure near the base of the Hokage Monument.
Hundreds of children and their parents were gathered in the massive dirt courtyard in front of the main gates. The volume of people was dizzying. After spending the last year isolated in the forest fighting a river, the chaotic noise of civilians and kids felt strange.
I found an empty space near the back of the crowd and stood with my hands resting loosely at my sides.
I was six years old. I wore a simple, dark long-sleeved shirt and gray pants provided by the orphanage's latest donation.
Today was the entrance exam.
I needed the Academy's library, the scrolls, and an environment to study different techniques.
I had spent the last two years pushing my body to its breaking point. If I unleashed my full physical capabilities today, I would undoubtedly finish at the top of the applicant pool.
And that would be a mistake.
In this village, a clan-born genius was a celebrated asset. An Uchiha or a Hyuuga prodigy would be groomed for leadership, protected by their family's prestige. But an orphan with no clan, no bloodline, and no political backing who suddenly displayed high-level chakra control?
I would just attract unwanted attention. Worse, I could even be marked down by Danzo and forced into his schemes. That would just spell disaster.
To survive the Academy, I had to create a persona. I could not be the worst, since that would put me beside the lowest-ranked students and restrict me to access advanced materials. I had to be in the eightieth percentile, just above mediocrity, enough to get into advanced class and not stand out among kids my age.
"Attention!"
The loud, amplified voice of a Chunin cut through the chatter. The crowd went silent.
He looked like a veteran, someone who had seen too many things.
"The entrance examination for the Konoha Ninja Academy will begin now", the Chunin barked, his eyes sweeping over the six-year-olds. "Parents, say your goodbyes and clear the perimeter. Applicants, form lines of fifty and prepare to enter the training grounds."
The shifting of the crowd went as described. Parents hugged their children, some weeping, others looking stern. I simply turned and walked toward the designated staging area.
I ended up in the third block of applicants, standing on the track of the Academy's primary training ground.
"Hey. Are you nervous?"
The voice came from my right. I turned my head slightly.
Standing next to me was a boy with a bowl cut of brown hair and large hazel eyes. He was fidgeting, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. He looked exactly like what he was: an ordinary civilian child.
"No" I replied, keeping my voice neutral.
The boy let out an exhale "I am. My dad says if I don't pass, I have to work in the blacksmith forge with my uncle. I don't want to forge shuriken. I want to throw them. I'm Ken, by the way."
"Raijin."
I didn't entertain him. Ken seemed to take my silence as confidence. He stood a little straighter, though his hands were still shaking.
The Chunin proctor stepped to the edge of the running track.
"The village does not have the resources to waste on those who lack the physical foundation and willpower of a shinobi" he announced coldly. "Your first and only test today is running. You will run the outer track of the training grounds. You will not stop. If you walk, you are disqualified. If you vomit and stop moving, you are disqualified."
He raised a hand.
"The test ends when I say it ends. Go!"
The command was abrupt. Instantly, a wave of children surged forward, small bodies kicking up a cloud of brown dust.
I didn't sprint. I fell into a measured jog, positioning myself in the middle of the pack.
Faking physical struggle when your body is conditioned for much more is actually difficult. I had to consciously force myself to operate inefficiently. I altered my gait, striking the dirt with my heels.
Within the first mile, the herd began to thin.
Children began to slow down, their faces flushed red, gasping for air.
Some pulled over to the side of the track, clutching their sides in agony.
By the second mile, I began to artificially induce signs of exhaustion in my body. I allowed my shoulders to slump.
"I… I can't…"
I looked to my left. Ken, the boy who had spoken to me earlier, was stumbling. His face was pale, his lips blue.
"Breathe out" I said, quietly. "You're holding your breath when your foot strikes. Exhale on the impact. It stops the cramp."
Ken blinked, his eyes unfocused, but he followed the command. He blew out as his left foot hit the track floor. He didn't speak, but he managed to stabilize himself.
I didn't help him out of compassion. I helped him because having a struggling civilian pacing behind me made my own "struggle" look more authentic to the observers.
As we rounded the curve into the third mile, a sudden breeze brushed past my shoulder.
Itachi Uchiha.
He was in my batch. I watched the back of his shirt as he pulled ahead, creating a massive gap between himself and the rest of the applicants.
There it was. The golden child of the village. The prodigy who would slaughter his entire bloodline to prevent a civil war.
Watching him run, I could remember just how unfair this world was. He possessed a genetic baseline that I would have to spend decades compensating for.
However, I didn't feel resentment towards him.
Let Itachi be the genius. Let him draw the eyes of the Hokage and the shadow of Danzo Shimura. While the village poured his attention onto the Uchiha prodigy, I would be hiding comfortably in my corner.
The run continued.
I counted the runners ahead of me. Fourteen. I was exactly where I needed to be.
Suddenly, the atmosphere of the track shifted.
Killing intent.
I snapped my eyes toward the center of the training ground. The Chunin was standing on the grass, his single hand resting on the hilt of the kunai, his eyes locked onto the remaining runners.
The effect on the children was catastrophic.
The boy running ahead of me shrieked, his legs buckling, making him lose momentum. Ken also shook violently, but pushed through regardless. Three others in the back simply stopped in their tracks, paralyzed.
I felt the killing intent wash over me.
My mind, however, remained silent.
The proctor could be a hardened veteran, but his killing intent was human. I had sat in front of the hatred of the Nine-Tails. This much was nothing to me.
But I instantly warned myself.
If you do not react, you will be exposed.
A normal civilian orphan should not be immune to the killing intent of a veteran. If I continued jogging with a blank expression, even an amateur would see I had something more to me.
I had to fake it.
I purposefully broke my rhythm. I widened my eyes, forcing my face into a mask of panic. I stumbled, allowing my shoulders to hunch defensively.
I deliberately slowed my pace.
The Chunin held the killing intent for another ten seconds before releasing it.
As the pressure released, he raised his hand.
"Halt!"
Less than a third of the original applicants remained on the track.
I allowed myself to collapse on the grass near the track, making sure to pant heavily. Ken collapsed next to me, gasping.
"I… I made it" Ken wheezed, looking up at the sky. "I don't have… to make shuriken."
"Congratulations" I replied, sitting up.
The Chunin proctor walked down the line of surviving applicants, handing out small slips of paper.
When he reached me, he didn't say a word. He handed me the paper and moved on.
I looked down at the slip. It bore the official seal of the village and a few lines of text.
Applicant: Raijin. Status: Accepted. Assignment: Class 1-A.
I stared at the designation. Class 1-A. The advanced track. I had passed where I intended to.
"Those of you holding acceptance papers, proceed to the administration desks in the main lobby" the proctor announced "You will receive your student identification, your class schedules, and your housing assignments."
Housing assignments.
I stood up, the fatigue instantly vanishing from my mind. In Konoha, orphans who were accepted into the Academy were no longer considered civilian burdens, they were investments. They were granted a monthly stipend and moved out of the orphanages into specialized student apartments.
I walked toward the administration building, my fingers tightly gripping the small piece of paper.
An hour later, I walked out of the Academy gates. In my pocket rested a metallic key and a small pouch containing my first month's stipend of Ryo.
I navigated the streets toward the sector assigned to Academy students. The apartment complex was a block of gray concrete, but to me, it was a palace.
I climbed the stairs to the second floor and found door number 204. I slid the key into the lock and turned it.
The door opened with a quiet click. I stepped inside.
The apartment was tiny. It consisted of a single room that served as a bedroom and living space, with a small bathroom in the corner. The floor was clean, and the single window looked out over the rooftops of the village.
But it was empty. And it was silent.
I closed the door behind me, locking it.
I walked to the center of the room. For the first time, I had a place that belonged entirely to me. I had walls. I had a door that locked. I had access to Academy-level scrolls in the library of the most powerful village on the continent.
This is it.