The match had just ended.
The students, flushed with the adrenaline of competition, gathered in small clusters around the training field. Excitement buzzed in the air, but not everyone was present.
Those who had been injured, like Obito, were notably absent, likely recovering in the Academy's nurse room.
Toka stood at the front, arms crossed, observing the group with his usual stern expression. He was moments away from announcing the official conclusion of the tournament. The final match had been nothing short of… unexpected.
His gaze drifted across the students, making observations with each of their figures. He paused slightly longer on certain students: Anko, always so fiery and energetic; Gekko, whose technique showed promise despite his nature to sleep everywhere.
But then, Toka's eyes settled on another figure.
A calm boy with tousled dark hair and a faint, unreadable expression.
Amon.
He was currently bowing his head slightly, murmuring an apology to a girl with purple patches on her cheeks who was visibly fuming, arms crossed and cheeks puffed. Despite her annoyance, the boy remained collected, his tone respectful and posture humble.
Toka's eyes narrowed, and a memory from just minutes ago replayed vividly in his mind.
. . .
(Toka's flashback – POV)
"Hajime!"
The instant the word left his mouth, Obito lunged.
Brash, Reckless, and Predictable.
Toka exhaled quietly through his nose, already anticipating how the match would play out. He knew Obito's fighting style well—straightforward, all offense with very little thought. Normally, even if that opponent was recklessl; someone like Amon, especially with his recent enrollment about a month ago, wouldn't last ten seconds against that kind of pressure.
His eyes shifted to Amon, expecting to see a defensive stance, a flinch, something.
Instead… Amon stood still.
No, not just still—relaxed. One foot slightly forward, shoulders low, one arm raised ever so slightly as if inviting the attack. His expression was unreadable, calm in a way that set Toka on edge.
And then he spoke.
"Come."
The word wasn't loud. It wasn't boastful. It was almost… casual. Like a teacher calling a student to demonstrate a move. There was no malice behind it, no taunt. Just… an invitation.
Toka blinked, unsure if he'd heard right.
Was the kid joking?
This wasn't sparring with classmates at recess—this was a public spar match. Everyone was watching. One good hit from Obito could put him in the hospital if he wasn't careful. Even with their limited chakra usage for safety, accidents happened.
Toka unconsciously stepped forward, body tense, already preparing himself to leap in and stop the fight if it turned ugly. After all, Amon was still new. The boy had shown promise during a few informal after-school Taijutsu sessions, but even then, his skills had barely scratched the surface of proficiency. Reflexes? Good. Reflexes? Decent. Sparring sense? Almost non-existent.
But what happened next shattered every expectation Toka had.
Amon moved.
He leapt forward with a smooth front flip as Obito charged, the motion so fluid it was almost as if a Kunoichi with acrobat training was performing it.
Next, once Obito charged once more, his right leg extended mid-air, and his heel crashed into Obito's ribs with pinpoint precision and timing. The force of the kick was enough to knock the wind out of the boy—Toka could hear the breath leave him.
Afterwards, as Obito tried to attempt to attack once more, Amon ended the fight.
A spinning move to gain momentum and a devastating blow to the Side of Obito's head. Not powerful enough to cause lasting harm, but precise enough to disorient, to end the fight then and there.
Obito hit the ground hard, dazed and unmoving.
Silence.
Toka stood frozen, eyes wide. The crowd hadn't even registered what happened yet.
Three moves.
Three clean, precise movements. Not flashy. Not overdone. Executed with an economy of motion that spoke not of raw talent, but of deep, practiced control. Of a calm that didn't belong in the body of a new Academy student.
It wasn't just a victory.
It was a complete domination.
Amon didn't even look surprised. He simply bowed his head, turned, and walked off the field as if nothing had happened.
. . .
(Back to Present)
Toka shook the memory from his head and returned his focus to the field.
Amon still stood there—quiet, composed, and shameless. His head was bowed slightly as he murmured apologies to the irritated girl before him. She huffed, cheeks puffed in frustration, but didn't push him away. Perhaps because she, like everyone else, was still reeling from the match.
Around them, murmurs passed between the students like a soft breeze. Some stared at Amon with awe, others with uncertainty, and a few with the subtle wariness that now came with recognizing someone beyond their level. Most simply looked surprised.
Toka narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharpening as something settled heavy in his chest.
"Is this why Lord Hokage wanted this boy in the Academy?"
Then another figure emerged from his memories.
He remembered the first time he had received a student a few years ago—a strange, sharp-eyed boy with spiky silver hair who insisted on wearing a mask even during training. Kakashi Hatake. Even back then, the boy's talent had been undeniable. Cold. Precise.
That boy had become a Chunin at an age when others were still struggling with clone techniques. His potential had been clear, blinding even. It felt like he was destined to become a recognizable figure in the Shinobi world.
And now…
Now, when he thought of Kakashi, he couldn't help but see Amon standing beside him in that same mental space. Not because they were alike in demeanor—they were quite different, actually—but because something about them make him pause. As if they were different form the rest....
Toka exhaled slowly.
He'd only trained with Amon briefly, just a few short Taijutsu sessions after school. Enough to pass along some pointers, test his fundamentals. At the time, the boy's techniques had been average.
But now he felt something....
A presence? A sense?
Call it instinct. Call it experience. Call it madness.
But Toka had felt it.
Potential. Astronomical potential. The kind of growth that couldn't be charted by rank or sparring scores. The kind that only appeared once in a generation.
That day in the Hokage's office came back to him now, clearer than ever. Amon had stood in front of Lord Hokage, quiet as always, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes lowered in respectful stillness. But now, in hindsight, Toka could see it now....
He tore his gaze away from the boy and exhaled, the weight of something unspoken settling into his chest.
"I will witness your upbringings, Amon Tsuchi,"he murmured to himself.
Then he straightened his posture, expression hardening into something more formal. It was time to speak.
The students fell quiet as he stepped forward lightly coughing.
The tournament was over.
. . .
"...And I know it was just a spar, but you didn't have to hit Obito that hard!"
Rin stood with her arms firmly crossed, her voice sharp and accusing. Her cheeks were puffed slightly in frustration, and her brows were drawn in a tense frown as she stared at the boy in front of her.
Lumian rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, tousling his already messy hair. He gave her a small, apologetic bow, though the nervous grin tugging at his lips betrayed his sincerity.
"I didn't mean to hit him that hard… Well, actually… maybe I did..."
Rin's glare deepened as she dropped her arms and planted her hands on her hips. Her disapproval was practically radiating off her.
Lumian sighed, lowering his gaze.
"Okay, fine... maybe I did. But you know how reckless that idiot is. Even if I'd knocked him flat on the ground, he wouldn't have accepted it. He'd get up swinging until someone dragged him away."
Rin stepped forward and jabbed a finger into his chest.
"I get that. But even if it was a spar, you still have to apologize to Obito when this is over. Got it?"
Lumian chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck.
"Yeah, yeah… I got it."
Before Rin could respond, a sharp cough cut through the air—firm, authoritative, and loud enough to draw attention.
Gradually, conversations around the training field died down. Heads turned. Whispers faded. All eyes were now fixed on their instructor.
Toka stood before them, clipboard in one hand, posture straight. Once he was sure he had their full attention, he spoke.
"The mock tournament has officially concluded. I want to congratulate each of you who gave your all in your matches, and offer my condolences to those who came up short."
The students nodded, some quietly accepting the praise, others grimacing at the reminder of their defeat.
But then Toka's tone shifted, becoming more serious.
"Now that it's over, I want to speak about the true purpose of this tournament."
That caught everyone off guard. A ripple of surprise ran through the group. Murmurs rose once more—confused, curious.
A hand shot up.
"Yes?"
Kurenai stepped forward slightly.
"Sensei, what do you mean by 'true purpose'?"
Toka nodded thoughtfully, then raised his clipboard and glanced down at it.
"I expected this question. Allow me to clarify your confusion."
He tapped the board once with a finger, as if to punctuate his words.
"While the tournament was indeed a way to test your basic combat skills under simulated pressure, that wasn't the only goal. There was another, more specific reason behind it."
More murmurs now. Questions bubbled in the air—but Toka raised his voice slightly to cut through them.
"Once I call your names, step forward."
Immediately, the field quieted. The mood shifted. Ears strained to catch every syllable.
Toka began reading.
"Asuma Sarutobi."
"Anko Mitarashi."
"Riko Hyuga."
"Rin Nohara."
"Gekko Hayate."
"Genma Shiranui."
"Amon Tsuchi."
A subtle silence followed the list.
Students glanced at one another. The seven names called—some well-known, some less so—stepped forward, hesitant at first. The rest of the group instinctively parted to let them through.
They stood in a loose line before Toka, confusion etched into some of their faces. The students glanced sideways at the others as their eyes made contact.
"To the students that I have called, please follow me into the acade-"
. . .
"No Need."
. . .
The words rang out clear and calm, cutting across the murmuring crowd like a blade.
A chorus of surprised gasps followed as heads whipped around. Standing just beyond the training grounds was a figure robed in white, his presence unmistakable—the red and white hat, the flowing cloak adorned with the kanji for Fire.
Hiruzen Sarutobi. The Third Hokage.
He strode forward at a measured pace, his expression serene, staff in hand, his eyes calm yet piercing.
"L-Lord Hokage!" Toka stammered, bowing quickly. Around him, the students parted like a tide, scrambling to make way.
The Hokage smiled gently at the flustered instructor and continued forward until he stood beside him, facing the seven students.
"Hello, everyone," he began, voice deep and warm. "I can see from your faces and your posture that you've fought hard today. You must be exhausted."
He let the silence hang for a moment before continuing.
"Let me be the first to congratulate each and every one of you. You showed courage, strength, and resolve in your matches today. For that, I am proud."
His words were like heavy silk—smooth, but carrying weight. Some of the students visibly straightened under his praise; a few even blushed.
Then, slowly, his gaze swept over the chosen seven.
He smiled at Rin, Anko, Gekko, Genma, and Riko, offering a faint but respectful nod to Asuma—a subtle acknowledgment of his lineage.
But when his eyes landed on Lumian, something imperceptible shifted.
His smile didn't falter, but the edges of his lips twitched—so subtly that even a seasoned jōnin might have missed it.
Unconsciously, Lumian flinched.
Not visibly. Not enough for anyone else to catch. But inside, his thoughts rang loud and clear.
. . .
"Shit."
. . .
A brief thought crossed Hiruzen's mind.
"A curious one, this boy…"
But he made no sign of it and seamlessly resumed his speech, addressing them all again as if nothing had passed.
"You seven have been handpicked—not just for your performance today, but because you each carry qualities we believe are worth nurturing." He glanced at Toka. "Your instructor and I made this decision together."
One of the students couldn't hold back.
"Wait… you mean you were watching the whole thing, Lord Hokage?!" Genma exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief.
Hiruzen chuckled, deep and amused. "Yes, Genma. I was watching. How could I not be curious about the progress of Konoha's future?"
Genma opened his mouth to respond, then wisely shut it, nodding in quiet reverence.
. . .
The Hokage raised his hands, his white sleeves fluttering slightly in the breeze. His very stance seemed to draw in the attention of every soul on the field.
"Your reward," he said, "will be formally relayed to your parents or guardians when you return home today."
He cleared his throat, his next words measured and deliberate.
"In one month's time, I will be traveling to the Fire Capital for a meeting with the Daimyō. It is a diplomatic visit of the highest importance. The Clan Heads will accompany me, along with a contingent of elite shinobi for protection."
The students erupted in whispers, their young minds unable to contain the rush of questions and awe.
"The Daimyō?"
"The Fire Capital?"
"Isn't that where the nobles live?"
A soft "Mhmm."
The Hokage cleared his throat again, gently silencing them.
"You seven will accompany me on this journey. Think of it as a special field trip—an opportunity to see the wider world, to understand your village's place in the greater structure of the Land of Fire."
He paused, allowing the words to settle over them like mist.
"You'll stay there for one week. All expenses…" He smiled. "…have already been paid."
A stunned silence followed.
For some, the words sparked pure excitement. For others, confusion. And for one among them—Lumian —a deeper dread began to bloom in his gut.
"What the hell???"
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Thanks for reading!!
To my readers that have been reading until this chapter I deeply thank you for staying albeit the slow progress he's been making. Don't worry about the pacing as I bet you'll be surprised after he digests the Apprentice potion in the future *wink* *wink*.
For now..... please leave as much comments as you want! Any review that you want! Anyways....Of course.....
POWER STONES!!!!!!