Iruka Umino had the kind of smile Asahi immediately categorized as dangerously optimistic. It was the smile of a teacher who genuinely believed in his students—a quality that, in the world Asahi remembered, usually came right before a tragic death.
'He's trying too hard,' Asahi thought from his corner, his hands resting on the cold, rough desk. 'He's getting attached. Rookie mistake.'
"Welcome to the first day of your lives as protectors of Konoha!" Iruka began, his voice booming like a drum against the classroom walls. "I know some of you come from prestigious clans, and others are here purely through determination."
His eyes stopped on Asahi for a fraction of a second. It wasn't casual. It was deliberate. Weighted. As if he had already marked him.
"But here, everyone starts the same. Your names don't matter. What matters is your spirit! Your Will of Fire!"
Arashi Uzumaki cheered, pounding the desk with his fists. Kiba Inuzuka whistled, bouncing Akamaru on his shoulders. Sasuke Uchiha glanced up from the ceiling, just slightly, as if someone had mentioned his name by mistake. Naruto Uzumaki, meanwhile, was taking notes. With black ink. In a brand-new notebook.
'What's he writing?' Asahi wondered, frowning slightly. '"The Will of Fire is good"? Or "The teacher seems sincere, but he'll probably die before we graduate"?'
"Today we won't be doing any boring theory," Iruka continued, immediately regaining Arashi's attention. "We're heading outside! I want to see what you can do!"
The Academy courtyard was wide and dusty, with dirt tracks that crunched underfoot, wooden posts worn down by years of impact, and a sandbox where younger kids mixed sweat and sand. The air smelled of warm dust and fresh grass.
'Home sweet home,' Asahi thought, discreetly stretching his quads. The tension in his thighs was familiar. Comforting.
"Alright, tadpoles!" Iruka shouted, clipboard in hand. "We'll start with something simple! A fifty-meter sprint! I want to see your explosive speed! You'll run in groups of five!"
Asahi was placed in the second group, along with a few civilians and one Akimichi boy who was already wheezing before the signal.
'Fifty meters. Pure speed,' Asahi analyzed. 'Not my specialty. My training focuses on endurance, not bursts. But the principles are the same—drive, movement efficiency, posture.'
He crouched at the starting line. The ground was firm under his shoes, cool against the morning heat.
'Reminder from my past life: speed doesn't come from the legs—it comes from the ground. Push. Don't rise too early. Maintain your angle. Use your arms. Drive your knees.'
"ON YOUR MARKS! GET SET…!"
The Asahi from two years ago would've panicked. Tripped. Failed.
"GO!"
The Asahi of now exploded forward.
It was like the ground had launched him. His feet barely skimmed the dirt. The Akimichi boy was left behind after three steps. The other runners flailed their arms like windmills, wasting energy with every motion.
Asahi ran in a straight, efficient line. No hesitation. No wasted effort. He crossed the finish line nearly two seconds before the next.
He stopped. No panting. Controlled breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth. His heart pounded hard, but steady.
Iruka whistled, impressed. "Great time, Asahi! Excellent!"
Kenji, in the next group, yelled from the starting line, "THAT'S MY ORPHANAGE BROTHER!"
Asahi felt heat rush to his ears. He quickly retreated to the shade of a tree, where the air was cooler and the noise dimmer. 'Don't draw attention, idiot.'
Now came the main event. The Elite Group.
Sasuke Uchiha. Arashi Uzumaki. Kiba Inuzuka. Shino Aburame. And Shikamaru Nara.
"GO!"
It happened so fast Asahi almost missed it.
Arashi was a red blur. He didn't run with technique—he ran with animal fury, with a manic grin, as if the world itself was a game he had already decided to win.
Kiba ran on all fours beside Akamaru—an efficient, almost telepathic coordination that was shockingly fast.
And then there was Sasuke. His form was flawless.
The three of them crossed the line almost simultaneously, all significantly faster than Asahi's best.
Shikamaru, of course, muttered "What a drag," and jogged lazily to last place.
Asahi frowned. 'My best effort… doesn't even reach their base speed.'
He felt the first sting of real frustration. Not from losing—but from not understanding.
'They're using chakra,' he realized, observing how their muscles didn't tremble, how they showed no signs of fatigue. 'There's no way eight-year-olds can generate that much acceleration through muscle alone. They're already using Basic Body Enhancement. I'm at a disadvantage.'
"Alright! Strength test!" Iruka shouted. "Push-ups! As many as you can with proper form! No worms!"
This time, Asahi smiled inwardly. 'My turn.'
Most of the class collapsed after ten. Arashi did twenty-five fast, sloppy ones, then declared it boring and started eating a snack bar. Kiba managed thirty, panting like his namesake.
Sasuke, as efficient as ever, did fifty flawless push-ups, then stopped, as if that number alone defined his superiority.
Asahi got into position. Hands flat on the hard ground, fingers slightly spread, core tight.
Iruka said, "Begin."
Asahi inhaled. 'Core tight. Back straight. Chest to ground. Up. One.'
'Two.'
'Three.'
The world narrowed to rhythm. Inhale down, exhale up. His muscles—rested, repaired, and primed from the last week—responded beautifully.
He passed ten. The class began to quiet down.
Thirty. Arashi stopped bouncing and stared.
Fifty. Out of the corner of his eye, Asahi caught Sasuke's expression shift—from boredom to faint interest.
'Sixty.'
'Seventy.'
His arms began to shake, but his form held. 'Pain is decoration. Ignore it.'
'Eighty.'
Iruka looked astonished.
'Eighty-five.'
"Asahi! Enough!" Iruka shouted, sounding genuinely alarmed. "Stop! That's incredible!"
Asahi exhaled and stood in one smooth motion, showing no fatigue—only a faint tremor in his fingers, invisible to anyone but him.
Silence fell over the courtyard. Even the wind hesitated.
Then Kenji shouted, "YES! EIGHTY-FIVE!"
Asahi caught Sasuke's gaze. It wasn't interest anymore—it was analysis. The look of a predator recognizing another.
'Good,' Asahi thought. 'Now you know I exist.'
Back in the classroom, the atmosphere had shifted. Asahi was no longer the quiet orphan in the corner. He was the push-up phenomenon.
"Alright," Iruka said, regaining composure. "Physical strength and speed are vital. But none of that matters without the core of a ninja's power: Chakra."
He brought out a box filled with small pieces of paper. Dry. Light. Harmless-looking.
'Oh no,' Asahi thought. His confidence evaporated like water in the sun. 'The affinity test. I've spent eight years training my body. I have no idea how to train that.'
Iruka explained how to channel chakra. "Don't overthink it. Just feel it. Like warmth in your stomach. Then let it flow through your arm into the paper."
The results were predictable.
Arashi's paper split cleanly in half with a sharp pop—Wind.
Sasuke's crumpled, then burned to ash—Lightning and Fire. Iruka nearly choked.
Naruto's, to everyone's surprise, soaked completely—Water.
Shikamaru's wrinkled lazily—Yin affinity, probably.
"Asahi!"
Asahi swallowed hard. He picked up the paper. Dry. Light. Fragile.
He closed his eyes. 'Feel the heat. Feel the river.'
He tried to recall the sensation from training—the hum in his muscles, the vibration in his bones.
'Don't force it,' he told himself. 'Relax.'
He took a slow breath, like before a heavy lift. He searched inward. Beyond muscle, beyond breath… there it was.
Not a river. Not fire. A hum. Small, faint—but there.
He grasped it. Pushed it outward.
The paper didn't do one thing. It did two.
First, it split perfectly in half. Then, both halves soaked through as if dipped in water.
Iruka froze. "Impossible…"
Asahi opened his eyes and stared at the two wet pieces in his hand.
"Wind affinity," Iruka murmured. "And water affinity. A dual natural affinity… That's…"
Sasuke was staring. Arashi looked confused. Naruto, from his seat, glanced up from his book and gave Asahi a small, quiet smile before returning to his reading.
Asahi looked down at the paper pieces.