Today was the first day of school.
Hoshiyomi was woken up early by his mother, who insisted he wear a freshly bought set of new clothes. And to be fair, the old saying "clothes make the man" applied just as well in the shinobi world. Hoshiyomi, already quite handsome, looked even more striking in his new outfit.
Admiring himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but smirk and mutter:
"Nice. Damn, I look good. Even Sasuke would have to stay quiet seeing this level of charm."
After saying goodbye to his mother, Gekkō Hoshiyomi arrived at the Ninja Academy with perfect timing—just minutes before the entrance ceremony.
The Academy in Konoha Year 16 was very different from the one Naruto attended decades later. In Naruto's time, any child of appropriate age could enroll in the six-year program to learn basic ninja skills.
But in this era, resources were limited. The program lasted only three years, and each year only admitted 100 students. As a result, the Academy population was much smaller.
Arriving at the auditorium, Hoshiyomi straightened his clothes and pushed open the large doors with anticipation.
Cue dramatic entrance: Gekkō Hoshiyomi shines!
Or so he thought.
No gasps. No fawning admirers. No envious rivals falling into existential despair. Just dozens of kids grouped up, chatting loudly in their own little circles. Not a single soul noticed him.
…Oof.
Hoshiyomi paused awkwardly, then quietly pulled out a small bench and melted into the background. That middle-school anime protagonist energy? Yeah, that wasn't him. Definitely not.
After a brief speech from the newly appointed Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, three instructors arrived to guide the new students to their assigned classes.
In this era, the Academy had only three first-year classes—A, B, and C—with placement based strictly on entrance exam scores.
But class placements weren't permanent. To keep students sharp and prevent anyone from coasting, the school held a combat reassessment every three months. The bottom 10 students in each class would face the top 10 from the class below in a ranked duel—win, and you move up.
A system built to maximize talent in a resource-scarce era.
Hoshiyomi was placed in Class A, led by a stern-looking man named Mitsui Uchijima. But instead of taking them straight to a classroom, Mitsui led the 30 students to the training field.
Once they arrived, he cleared his throat and pulled a small box from his coat.
"Before we begin formal instruction, I want to assess your current skill levels. So we'll start with a basic placement battle. Each of you will draw a number from this box. You'll fight in pairs, and there's a reward for the winners—first pick of your seats in class."
Before he even finished, a silver-haired boy dashed up to the box, his face painted in bold colors and his voice loud and cocky.
"No matter who I face, they'll fall before the might of Jiraiya the Great! I'm going to become the strongest ninja ever, believe it!"
Everyone turned to look at him—some amused, some rolling their eyes.
Even Hoshiyomi couldn't help but smirk and roll his own eyes. Most students in Class A were clearly from prominent clans—just by glancing around, you could spot second-generation prodigies from famous families.
Jiraiya's rough clothes and loud attitude screamed "civilian background." He might have been talented, but his theatrics were only painting a target on his back.
As each student drew their number, Hoshiyomi casually picked one as well—only to pause when he saw it.
Number 27.
Which, according to matchups, meant his opponent would be Number 4: Jiraiya.
Glancing over at the silver-haired boy, who was still sulking from the laughter earlier, Hoshiyomi scratched his head.
"Well… that's awkward. Do I beat him down or throw the fight and earn some goodwill?"
Before he could decide, the first match was already over. An Uchiha boy named Iwa had swiftly defeated another student in just two moves.
Nothing surprising there. The Uchiha Clan was a powerhouse, and judging by how the other Uchiha kids orbited around him, Iwa probably held a high rank even within his clan.
Hoshiyomi wasn't paying attention to Iwa. He was more focused on what Mitsui-sensei announced next:
"Match two: Tsunade vs Kurisu Nakakura."
Hoshiyomi's eyes instinctively snapped to the center of the field, where a golden-haired girl with a high ponytail stepped forward.
Even at six, Tsunade was already beautiful—porcelain-doll features, confident posture. Her presence alone caused a stir among the watching students.
Her opponent, Kurisu, stared dumbstruck for a few seconds after the match began. By the time he realized he was supposed to be fighting, Tsunade's fist was already flying.
He barely got his arms up in time to block—but she had inherited the raw power of the Senju bloodline. There was no "blocking" a direct hit.
The punch sent Kurisu stumbling back, collapsing onto the ground and clutching his arm in pain, gasping from the impact.
Mitsui-sensei shook his head knowingly and declared Tsunade the winner.
She tilted her head slightly at her opponent, puzzled by his reaction, but obediently walked back to her spot.
Hoshiyomi, watching her tilt her head, nearly short-circuited.
"She's too cute. I'm dying. Awsl."
Decision made. Sorry, Jiraiya. Worst case, I'll buy you ramen after class. Bros before egos.
The third match was a close fight between two background nobodies, ending only after an extended back-and-forth exchange.
Then finally—it was time.
Match four: Jiraiya vs Gekkō Hoshiyomi.
Hoshiyomi stepped into the field with calm steps and a friendly smile. Jiraiya, still a little annoyed, narrowed his eyes.
He'd expected another arrogant elite.
But Hoshiyomi spoke first:
"Let's take it easy. We're classmates from now on—no need to go too hard and ruin the vibe."
Mitsui-sensei glanced at Hoshiyomi, visibly surprised.
This kid... not bad.
Jiraiya's face softened slightly. "Alright, that's fair."
The moment Mitsui gave the signal, the match began. And despite all his loud behavior earlier, Jiraiya sprang forward in total silence.
He wasn't dumb—he knew how to fight smart.
Years spent roughhousing on the streets had taught him the importance of initiative. Against someone who might already be using chakra, he needed to control the tempo from the first move.
The distance between them was short. In the blink of an eye, Jiraiya was already closing in, fist aimed straight at Hoshiyomi's face.
Some of the girls in the crowd flinched and covered their eyes.