A/N: Pretty long and probably bland chapter emotionally... It was kind of rushed. I haven't been able to post any new chapters due to life reasons, so as I managed to write one, I wanted to use that momentum to write another and this came out.
Enjoy
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Few Months Later
Konoha Academy.
The air in the academy grounds was filled with excitement.
Today wasn't just any day, it was the day of graduation.
For most students, it was a moment of triumph, a culmination of years of effort and perseverance.
That was the same for Murakami, though, he also saw it as another step forward.
He stood at the far end of the training field with Katsuro and Aiko watching his other classmates chatter amongst themselves.
Some were exchanging nervous words of encouragement, others boasting about their future prospects.
A few stole glances at the instructors, who stood at the front of their own classes.
Unlike them, Murakami wasn't particularly emotional. He had been prepared for this moment long before today.
Feeling nervous would mean he did not trust his effort and feeling positively excited would mean all his effort was just to pass this test.
Murakami had long since grown beyond the level of an academy student. His current skill level and combat ability were at the level of your average chunin.
If he could master nature transformation, Murakami knew he wouldn't be fodder any longer.
The past three months have been a test of patience. His focus hadn't been solely on improving his combat abilities, he had already reached a threshold for his current age.
Though that had certainly been a priority.
His true aim had been solidifying his position within Konoha's future.
Hina kept him updated on the events concerning their operation in the Capital while the Store at the Western district became fully operational.
Hashimaru-san's former store had undergone renovations, allowing it to cater to a more refined clientele, primarily lesser clan members and independent shinobi.
With him as the mastermind, Hina, Ishida and Hashimaru ran the store well.
When it came to personal strength, Murakami ensured he did not stagnate.
He has mastered all the Wind and Earth ninjutsus he had bought earlier as well as the other taijutsu and genjutsu.
One of his favorites was the Smoke Clone Jutsu.
Like the normal clone Jutsu it had zero attack power, but upon being hit, it disperses and leaves a smokescreen.
It served for both a diversion and concealment.
His staff combat techniques had become more refined as he repeated each kata. He had also honed his stealth and assassination skills.
His breath concealment technique had seen some major upgrade as he was now able to move with his presence concealed.
And after today, it would be time to put all of it to use.
"Alright, listen up!" One of the instructors, a grizzled instructor, Takeda-sensei, called out, his gaze sweeping across the gathered students. "You've all trained for years to reach this point. Today, you prove whether you are worthy of wearing that headband or not."
A few students shifted nervously, some straightened their posture and some others showed no reaction.
"This test is simple," Takeda continued. "Each of you will step forward and perform the required jutsu. Your results will determine your team placement."
Murakami sighed inwardly. It was the same as always, the Clone Jutsu, the Transformation Jutsu, and the Substitution Jutsu.
These jutsus were used to filter out those who were incapable from those who were ready for the battlefield.
The Clone Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, and Transformation Jutsu might seem basic, but in the context of real battle, they are invaluable tools for survival.
Before gaining experience, one might view them as mere Academy techniques. However, with a deeper understanding of combat and strategy, their true importance becomes clear.
The Clone Jutsu (Bunshin no Jutsu), while it creates basic illusory clones without substance, they serve as distractions in combat.
Even an instant of hesitation from an opponent can mean the difference between life and death.
The Substitution Jutsu (Kawarimi no Jutsu) is arguably the most life-saving of the three. By swapping places with a nearby object—usually a log—a shinobi can escape lethal attacks, traps, or ambushes at the last moment.
In war, where surprise attacks and assassination attempts are common, a well-timed Substitution Jutsu can prevent instant death and give a shinobi the opportunity to counterattack or flee.
And then there was the Transformation Jutsu (Henge no Jutsu). The ability to change one's appearance is crucial for deception, infiltration, and survival.
In summary, these "basic" techniques serve as the foundation of shinobi survival. When properly utilized, they can turn the tide of battle.
One by one, the student's names were called and they stepped forward and went through the motions.
Some passed with ease, while others struggled, barely managing a proper clone or a clean transformation.
Murakami paid little attention to it all until his name was called.
"Haruki Murakami."
"It's finally your turn…" Katsuro said softly and then yawned. "Go break a leg."
"That'd be a hassle." Murakami rolled his eyes as stepped forward, hands hanging loosely at his side.
"That guy…" Aiko smiled wryly. That was Murakami for you. She had trained with him for so long to know that Murakami has never really been forced to show his full strength.
The instructors watched with scrutinizing gazes, but Murakami knew they didn't expect him to fail.
Despite his best efforts to remain relatively low-profile, Murakami's bearing, academic scores and performance in sparring sessions set him apart.
"Proceed," Takeda ordered.
First was the Clone Jutsu.
He exhaled slowly and went through the hand seals. They weren't necessary, but he did it regardless there was no need to stand out more than he was.
As the final seal was completed, three perfect clones appeared beside him and were completely indistinguishable from his real body.
A few murmurs rose from the students watching, but he ignored them and looked at Takeda-sensei who nodded.
Seeing this, Murakami dispelled the clones.
Next, the Transformation Jutsu.
As the final hand seal was completed, his figure was engulfed in smoke. As it cleared, the instructor, Takeda-sensei, stood.
The resemblance was flawless, down to the sharp lines of his face and the worn-out expression he always carried.
Takeda-sensei's expression shifted slightly but he composed himself and nodded.
Finally, the Substitution Jutsu.
This part needed him to substitute himself without getting hurt by the kunai thrown by Takeda-sensei.
"Ready?"
"Yes." Murakami nodded, and in the next moment, he saw a kunai flying towards him.
He had watched the previous exchanges and knew that Takeda-sensei used the same speed and strength for everyone.
As the kunai neared him, he exploded into a burst of smoke and "thunk" sound was heard followed by a "thump".
That was the sound of kunai piercing wood and wood hitting the ground.
As the smoke cleared, on the ground lay a block of wood with a kunai embedded in it and at 3-4 meters away, stood Murakami whose expression remained casual.
Takeda raised a brow but said nothing. He simply nodded and handed him a headband. "Pass."
Murakami received it without ceremony, securing it inside his sleeves before walking back to his place.
And just like that, it was done.
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
…
…
The next morning, the names of those who had been placed into Genin teams were posted outside the Academy gates.
Murakami arrived and scanned the list and quickly found his name under team 3: Haruki Murakami, Motomiya Hideki and Akira Sora.
He recognized the names of his two teammates.
Motomiya Hideki was a solid hand-to-hand fighter, though not particularly intelligent while Sora was a reserved kid, lacking in raw strength but making up for it in analytical skills.
Murakami didn't know what to make of them as teammates, but he wasn't about to judge their actual capacity.
Murakami turned from the notice board and found the two of them standing a short distance away.
Hideki was hard to miss with those shoulders, too broad for his age. Sora stood slightly behind him with a straight posture, eyes flicking between faces.
Murakami contemplated ignoring them and going to the class to await their Sensei, but before he could decide, they were already on him.
"Well," Murakami said, as soon as they neared "looks like we're stuck with each other."
Hideki snorted. "Could've been worse. At least you're not dead weight." His gaze lingered as though measuring Murakami. "You're Murakami, right? The quiet one."
"Depends who you ask," Murakami replied evenly. This was his first time talking to this guy and he was already feeling exhausted.
Sora stepped forward then. "Team Three," he said, as if testing the sound of it. "Do either of you know who our jōnin instructor is?"
Hideki shrugged. "Haven't heard anything. Probably some burned-out chunin they needed to park somewhere."
Murakami shook his head slightly but said nothing.
He knew there was no way Genin Team 3 would be assigned a chunin as Sensei.
Looking at Hideki and Sora who were still guessing on the strength and rank of their new sensei, he sighed and walked away.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Hideki called out to Murakami, seeing him walk away.
"Where else?" Murakami asked but didn't stop walking. "We won't get any answers standing around here. I'd rather sit comfortably in the classroom and wait for our sensei than speculate."
Without waiting for their reply, he walked away.
"Tsk...I don't like that guy." Hideki clicked his tongue and said.
Sora eyed him. "Why are you telling me that? You could've said that to his face."
Hearing this, Hideki's face fell. "You-"
"He's right though, we would get no answer standing around here." Sora said before turning to the direction Murakami had disappeared into. "I'll be heading to the class. See you."
…
…
The classroom was filled with students who, like Murakami, were here waiting for their Sensei. And as the hours trickled by several jonin came and called out their team members.
It was during the late hours of the afternoon that a tall and lean man stepped into the classroom and swept his haze over the remaining 12 students.
"Team 3, meet me at training ground 8." Saying that he vanished.
Murakami rose from his seat without hurry.
Hideki was already on his feet, stretching his arms over his head with a wide grin.
"Finally!" Hideki said, voice carrying across the room. "Training ground 8 is the one near the river, right? Let's go!"
Sora stood more slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves.
His expression remained neutral, but his eyes flicked toward Murakami for a brief second before he moved toward the door.
Murakami followed them out without a word.
The three walked in near-silence through the village streets, but Hideki decided to break the quiet.
"So… what do you guys think our sensei's like?" he asked, hands behind his head. "Tall, lean, vanishes in smoke. Gotta be strong, right? Maybe lightning-style or something cool."
'How'd you figure…? He could be wind style for all you know.' Murakami thought inwardly but didn't see the need to voice it out.
Sora glanced sideways at him. "Or he just likes dramatic entrances."
'There is that too.'
Hideki laughed, "Dramatic entrances? Yeah, maybe. But come on, vanishing in smoke? That's gotta be some high-level jutsu. Bet he's got a thousand tricks up his sleeve."
Sora didn't reply immediately. He kept his pace steady, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the crowd out of habit.
Murakami silently walked between them, letting the conversation flow around him like water around a stone.
After a few more steps, Sora spoke again, voice low.
"He didn't introduce himself. Just gave the location and left."
Hideki shrugged. "Probably wants to see how fast we get there. Or if we even show up together."
Murakami's gaze flicked to the side, catching the faint glint of sunlight on a rooftop tile.
Someone could have been watching.
Or not.
"Or he's already testing us," Murakami said quietly.
Both boys glanced at him.
Hideki scratched the back of his head. "You think he's watching right now?"
"Possible."
Sora's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then we should assume he is."
Hideki grinned wider. "Alright! First test: don't look suspicious."
He immediately started walking with exaggerated swagger, arms swinging, whistling a tune off-key.
Sora sighed. "That's the opposite of not looking suspicious."
Murakami allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch, not quite a smile, but something similar.
Soon enough, they reached the edge of the village proper and stepped onto the dirt path leading to the river.
The trees thickened as they walked. Training ground 8 lay just ahead, a wide clearing bordered by the slow-moving river on one side and dense forest on the other.
Three weathered training posts stood near the center; a large flat boulder sat off to the left.
Their sensei waited atop the boulder, arms crossed, silver hair catching the late-afternoon light. The scar on his jaw looked sharper in the golden hour.
He didn't move as they approached.
Hideki stopped at the edge of the clearing, hands on hips. "We're here!"
The man's pale gray eyes swept over them once, slowly.
"You're on time," he said. "Good."
He jumped down, landing without sound. Up close he was taller than he had seemed. The scar on his face ran from his left temple to his jaw.
"I am Jōnin Takamura Kaito. From this moment, I am your sensei."
He studied each of them in turn; Hideki's eager grin, Sora's quiet watchfulness, Murakami's calm neutrality.
"Team 3 consists of Motomiya Hideki, Akira Sora, and Haruki Murakami."
"Yes." "Hmm." "..."
Hideki, Sora and Murakami all responded to their names.
"From this moment on, you are no longer academy students but are shinobi of Konohagakure. As long as you wear the Leaf's headband, you are to defend the Will of Fire."
He tossed a single kunai in the air, catching it effortlessly.
"But before you start thinking this is some easy transition, let me be clear."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Tomorrow, you'll face your first real test. And if you fail—" He smiled, but there was no warmth in it as he let out a wave of intimidating aura.
Moments later, he withdrew it but didn't complete his statement. The trio already understood…they could only pass his test.
"Now, let's introduce ourselves." He crossed his arms and leaned against a tree. "I'll go first."
"You already know my name as I mentioned it earlier. I like discipline, efficiency, and subordinates who don't need their hands held. I dislike incompetence and excuses. My dream? I don't have one, I focus on reality." His gaze hardened. "Now, one at a time. Murakami, you first."
'Eh..? Why me?' Murakami complained inwardly but showed no external change in his expression.
"My name is Haruki Murakami. I like good food, learning new things, and the feeling of getting better. I dislike unnecessary risks and people who don't think before acting."
Murakami smirked slightly. "As for my dream? To build something that lasts, something even time will struggle to erase."
Kaito studied him for a moment before nodding. "Pragmatic. Good."
He shifted his gaze. "Next."
Hideki grinned as he began. "I'm Motomiya Hideki! I like pushing my limits, and a good fight! I dislike losing and sitting still for too long. My dream? To be strong enough to protect my friends and family, no matter what."
Kaito's expression remained unreadable, but there was a faint glint of approval in his eyes. "At least you know what you want."
Finally, it was Sora's turn. Adjusting his glasses, he sighed. "Akira Sora. I like reading, and learning new things. I dislike unnecessary violence and people who act before thinking. My dream…" He hesitated before answering, "To become a shinobi that can guide Konoha to a more stable future."
Kaito hummed, rubbing his chin. "An idealist with a brain. Not bad." Then, his expression shifted into sharp and assessing. "Well, you'll need more than dreams to survive."
He pushed off the tree and walked toward us. "Your first test is tomorrow. And if you fail…. Sending you back to the academy would be the least of your worries."
"Huh? But we already graduated." Hideki cried out.
Kaito-sensei merely glanced at him. "The Academy teaches you how to be a shinobi. This test determines if you're ready to be one."
Silence settled between us as his words sank in.
Then, he turned away. "Meet me here at sunrise. No food. Come prepared." Without another word, he flickered away, vanishing from sight.