Today was the first day of the Ninja Academy. Hoshiyomi was woken early by his mother, Rie, and—at her insistence—dressed in a newly bought outfit.
The saying "clothes make the man" held true even in the shinobi world. Hoshiyomi, already handsome by any standard, looked even more striking in his new clothes. After checking himself in the mirror, even he couldn't resist murmuring smugly:
"Damn… I'm so good-looking even Sasuke would be speechless."
After bidding farewell to Rie, Hoshiyomi made his way to the Academy, arriving just a few minutes before the entrance ceremony began.
Unlike the Naruto era, where the Academy offered a six-year curriculum to all children above six, in Konoha Year 16 (two years after the village's founding), the Academy was still in its early development. Due to limited educational resources and the ongoing formalization of ninja training, each cohort only accepted around a hundred students, and the program lasted three years. As a result, the current student population was relatively small.
At the entrance to the assembly hall, Hoshiyomi adjusted his outfit one more time and pushed open the heavy wooden doors, imagining the scene to come.
Moonlight Hoshiyomi made his grand debut.
But the dramatic entrance he had pictured—fangirls gasping, awed silence, envious glances—did not happen. The hall was buzzing with kids forming friend groups and loudly chatting. Nobody so much as looked his way.
"…Right. Of course," he mumbled. After a pause, he quietly fetched a small stool and blended into the crowd. That burst of chuunibyo from earlier? Definitely not him.
After a short speech by the current Hokage—Sarutobi Hiruzen, newly appointed after Senju Tobirama's death—the students were sorted into three classes: Class A, Class B, and Class C, based on their initial entrance exam scores.
Class placements weren't permanent. Every three months, a reassessment exam would be held. The bottom ten students from the higher class and the top ten from the lower class would face off, with promotions and demotions based on the results. It was Konoha's way of ensuring that limited teaching resources were directed toward the most promising young ninja.
Hoshiyomi was placed in Class A. Their homeroom instructor was a chūnin named Mitsui. After leading the class away from the hall, he brought them not to the classroom, but to a nearby training ground.
The children looked puzzled until Mitsui pulled out a small box and cleared his throat.
"Before we start formal lessons, I need to gauge your basic abilities. We'll be conducting a placement sparring session. Everyone will draw lots. The winners will earn the right to pick their seats first."
As soon as he finished, a white-haired boy with red facial markings stepped forward confidently.
There was no need for introductions.
"Whether it's the Will of Fire or just plain talent—no one can stand before me!" he declared proudly. "Because I, Jiraiya, will become the strongest shinobi in Konoha!"
The class broke into snickers. Even Hoshiyomi rolled his eyes. Most of Class A came from prominent clans—the Hyūga, Uchiha, Aburame, and so on. A loud, scruffy commoner like Jiraiya shouting such claims was sure to be mocked.
One by one, the students stepped up to draw their numbers. When Hoshiyomi opened his paper and saw his number—27—his expression turned complicated. Because according to the drawn pairings, he'd be matched against number 4.
Jiraiya.
The very boy who had just loudly declared he'd crush everyone.
Hoshiyomi scratched his head. Did he go all out and crush Jiraiya, or go easy and let the guy save face?
Before he could decide, the first match began.
"First match: Uchiha Iwa vs. Kurata Shigeo."
Uchiha Iwa, a boy with cold eyes and confident movements, ended the fight in two blows. Not surprising—he was clearly from the Uchiha main family, and his Sharingan was likely close to awakening. The surrounding Uchiha students clearly deferred to him.
But Hoshiyomi's attention shifted when Mitsui called the next match:
"Second match: Tsunade vs. Nakakura Kuri."
Hearing the name, Hoshiyomi immediately turned to look.
A golden-haired girl stepped into the ring. Even at six, her striking doll-like features turned heads. She carried herself with pride, just like her grandfather, the First Hokage.
Nakakura Kuri, her opponent, hesitated for a moment, staring dumbly at her. By the time Mitsui called "Begin!", he was still distracted.
Tsunade didn't wait.
By the time Kuri snapped out of it, her small but fierce fist was already flying toward his face.
With nowhere to dodge, Nakakura Kuri could only hastily raise his arms to block—but how could he possibly withstand a punch from Tsunade, the granddaughter of the First Hokage, who had inherited not only his Will of Fire but also his monstrous strength?
The moment Tsunade's seemingly small fist connected, Nakakura Kuri was sent stumbling backward several steps. He crashed onto the ground, clutching his arm and gasping for breath, his face contorted in pain.
Mitsui-sensei, already well aware of Tsunade's overwhelming physical power—even as a child—merely shook his head and declared her the victor.
Tsunade tilted her head slightly, confused by the exaggerated reaction. She didn't think she had used that much strength. Still, obediently following her teacher's instruction, she quietly returned to her spot.
Watching this from the sidelines, Hoshiyomi couldn't help but exclaim internally, "Aw, shit! Legendary Sucker Punch unlocked." He no longer hesitated. Sorry, Jiraiya. I'll treat you to a bowl of miso ramen after class. Be grateful, my good brother.
Next up was the third group—two minor classmates who battled fiercely, though lacking refined technique. Their clash dragged on for a while until one emerged victorious by a narrow margin. Once the dust settled, it was finally time for the match between Jiraiya and Hoshiyomi.
Hoshiyomi stepped casually into the arena, his posture relaxed, and offered Jiraiya a calm smile. Jiraiya, still visibly annoyed from earlier, was momentarily caught off guard by Hoshiyomi's friendly demeanor. He'd expected mockery from this smug-looking pretty boy.
Before Jiraiya could speak, Hoshiyomi took the initiative:
"We're going to be classmates from now on," he said evenly. "Let's not go overboard and end up with real injuries. How about we take it easy and avoid making enemies, yeah?"
Mitsui-sensei raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised by Hoshiyomi's diplomatic attitude. He silently noted that this kid might have more to him than meets the eye.
Jiraiya blinked, then gave a small nod. He didn't exactly dislike what he'd heard—there was something refreshingly straightforward about it.
At Mitsui's signal, the spar began.
Without a word, Jiraiya charged forward. Despite his earlier behavior, he understood the importance of the first move. Having grown up scuffling in Konoha's less polished neighborhoods, Jiraiya knew how critical it was to disrupt an opponent's rhythm before they could channel chakra or use more advanced techniques.
The two boys weren't far apart. In just a breath, Jiraiya closed the distance, his fist flying straight toward Hoshiyomi's face. Several girls in the audience gasped and instinctively closed their eyes, unable to watch what they expected to be a brutal impact.