That's right—just as Fugaku had suspected, this year's sudden and silent increase in difficulty at the Ninja Academy was indeed meant to prepare for the major incident that would unfold shortly after the current class graduated: during the Chūnin Exams, when Orochimaru, disguised as the Fourth Kazekage, would attempt to destroy the Hidden Leaf Village by luring the Hidden Sand and Sound Village into launching a joint invasion.
On one hand, it was a premeditated and carefully orchestrated scheme. On the other, the Leaf was caught off guard and had to respond hastily. In such a situation, even the strength of the Hidden Leaf Village couldn't prevent itself from being overwhelmed at first, forced into a defensive state and paying a heavy price in lives just to repel the invaders. And the only real gain from it all? Rekindling relations with the Hidden Sand Village. Years of peace and prosperity had essentially gone up in flames. On top of that, the Third Hokage gave his life for the village.
In other words, no matter how you looked at it, the outcome of that incident—had it played out the same—was nothing but loss with no gain.
But what if you looked at it from a different angle?
Despite being completely unprepared… Despite being betrayed by someone who once held a high-ranking position and knew the village inside out… Despite its leader being captured and the chain of command in disarray… The Hidden Leaf Village still didn't fall. The enemy didn't succeed. And once the fighting ended, no other village dared to strike while they were vulnerable.
Though the Sand's surrender was partly due to the discovery of the Fourth Kazekage's corpse, it was also a clear demonstration of Konoha's rapid crisis response and overwhelming strength when properly prepared. With adequate precautions, they were fully capable of deterring any opportunistic foes.
And now imagine this: what if someone had foreseen this entire incident—including all the little details—and reported it to the Third Hokage in advance? What if the Hidden Leaf had been secretly preparing for this very battle years ahead of time? Add to that Naruto's help in taking down the ambitious Danzo, stripping the useless and self-serving Elders of their authority, and you'd find a Konoha far stronger than the one in the original timeline—no longer bound by internal sabotage or restraints, and now quietly entering an era of rapid, flourishing growth.
With the village rising and Orochimaru completely unaware of the change, was there still any chance he could inflict the same devastating damage?
It was because of this overwhelming difference in outcome that the Third Hokage had taken the suggestion seriously.
After careful deliberation, he chose to believe the so-called "paranoid" prophecy—one that others might've scoffed at. And that's how the current entrance exam, so vastly different from past years, came to be.
Of course, what Fugaku never expected was that the one behind this intel, the one who proposed strengthening the Academy's training system, and even the person who appointed the hot-tempered proctor yelling on stage at every turn—was all the same individual.
The one who had been quietly sitting next to him all this time, now casually flirting with his future daughter-in-law like it was nothing.
Truly, someone hiding their merit and fame in plain sight...
Yamanaka Masao.
As time passed, the proctor's scroll of names grew longer and longer. One by one, students stepped forward from the crowd as their names were called, forming a growing line on the open space in front of the platform. The once-cramped training field now felt significantly more spacious.
However, amidst what appeared to be a normal roll call, one baffling detail left Fugaku and the others scratching their heads...
Throughout all the names read aloud, there had not been a single mention of Hinata, Naruto, or Sasuke!
What was going on? Did that mean none of the three had been accepted?
Granted, they had originally planned for Naruto and Sasuke to skip this year and lay low just in case something went wrong... But planning was one thing. Seeing it happen with their own eyes was another. Fugaku couldn't help but feel frustrated and uneasy.
"Tch. Just what is this proctor doing?" he muttered. "We're already more than halfway through the names, and the platform's almost full. Why hasn't he called the kids yet?"
It was definitely strange...
Hiashi had also picked up on the oddity. His smile faded as he crossed one arm, using the other to stroke his chin thoughtfully. After a pause, he shook his head with a frown.
"Strange indeed... Even if the village planned to invest in nurturing newcomers for some future event, there's no way they'd exclude heirs from our clans entirely… Unless there's some hidden rule we don't know about?"
As someone who had graduated in the same year as Fugaku and Minato, back when the Academy's standards were grueling, Hiashi could tell something was off. He recognized the hidden manipulations behind this year's entrance exam.
But the more he thought about it, the less sense it made. If the school wanted to pick out promising students to groom… then why leave out clan heirs with clear potential and talent? It would be absurd to ignore capable students in favor of nobodies with no skills or bloodline.
"Right?" he said. "You're thinking the same thing, aren't you? This year's entrance exam was even more ridiculous than ours. They didn't even explain the rules—they just said the test was over. It's completely arbitrary. Who even knows what they based the results on—"
As he ranted, Fugaku continued staring intently at the scroll in the proctor's hands. It was visibly thinning, yet he still hadn't heard the kids' names. His gaze shifted to the three children behind him, who were playing and joking around like they didn't have a care in the world.
His expression grew odd as he muttered to himself, "Wait a second... Something feels off… Hey, Hiashi."
"Hm? What is it?"
"When the proctor was reading the names—"
Fugaku turned back toward Hiashi, who was still visibly confused. After a short pause, his face twisted further in uncertainty, like he'd figured something out but wasn't quite sure yet. With a doubtful tone, he asked, word by word:
"Did he ever say… that the names he's reading are the ones who passed the exam?"