POV: Yuji)
As everyone stared at me, panic hit like a kunai to the chest. I wasn't used to this—being at the center of attention. I never asked for it.
Their eyes felt like a weight, pressing down on me. My head, which I'd held high just moments ago, lowered instinctively. I could feel the anxiety rising like a tide, crushing my chest.
'Ignore them,' I told myself. But the stares still burned.
I walked quickly to my seat and sat down, a few pairs of eyes still lingering. I clenched my fists beneath the desk, trying to pull myself together.
A moment of silence passed before I whispered, "Why were they staring at me like that?"
"Well… you ranked top in the entrance test," Daiki said beside me, scratching his cheek.
Ayako leaned in, smirking. "You're really not good at this social stuff, huh? I saw the sweat dripping down your face."
"Well, yeah… I'm not," I admitted, feeling helpless and exposed.
The introduction continued, but my mind drifted.
⸻
The Second Test
The written test that followed was surprisingly easy. Questions like:
• What is a Kekkei Genkai?
• What are shinobi clans?
• What is chakra?
• What was the Warring States period?
And others—all focused on the history of the Hidden Leaf and the Great Ninja Wars. I answered them quickly, my hand moving on its own. It was stuff I had studied over and over.
Then came a lecture on hand signs. It lasted three hours, but strangely… I liked it. The quiet repetition, the focus it demanded—it calmed me in a way I didn't expect.
⸻
The Training Ground
"Now, follow me. We're heading to the training ground," Sensei announced.
That one sentence flipped a switch. Everyone jolted up with excitement, following him like a parade of buzzing energy.
The training ground was completely different from the classroom. Open skies. The scent of trees and soil. Wind on my face. I could finally breathe.
"Line up!" Sensei barked. We formed lines—some crooked, some clean.
"This is your first physical assessment," he said. "We'll test speed, stamina, strength, coordination, and chakra control. This isn't about raw power. It's about syncing your body and mind."
I swallowed, nerves still clinging to my ribs like vines. We were being watched again—judged again.
Running drills came first. I wasn't the fastest, but I kept pace. Obstacle courses followed—climbing walls, dodging swinging logs, crawling under nets. I nearly slipped on the rope climb. My arms trembled, my palms burned. But I reached the top.
Barely.
"Next is chakra control," Sensei announced.
He handed us each a leaf. "Channel your chakra to your palm. Keep the leaf stuck there. If it falls, your focus is weak."
I placed the leaf in my hand. It stayed without effort—I'd already mastered the Tree Walk and Water Walk. I glanced at Daiki and Ayako. They struggled, frustrated and sweating.
"You'll get it soon. Keep practicing," Sensei said kindly before walking off.
"He probably only said that because we're from civilian households," Daiki muttered, eyes downcast.
I didn't know how to respond. Part of me wanted to deny it. Another part wasn't so sure.
Then came the worst part—sparring. Everyone was assigned weighted vests tailored to their current ability. No two students had the same load.
It was exhausting.
Each movement felt like dragging a boulder through water. Every strike, every dodge demanded more than we had. But no one complained. Not out loud.
(Hokage Tower, Same Day)
In the dimly lit chamber of the Hokage Tower, tension hung like smoke. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, sat at the head of the table, his weathered face etched with lines of worry. Around him stood his advisors: Danzo Shimura, his single visible eye glinting beneath his bandages, and Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane, their expressions grim.
"Reports from our spies are confirmed," Danzo said, his voice low and deliberate. "The Village Hidden in the Waterfall is mobilizing for war. Jiraiya's intelligence aligns with this."
Koharu's hands tightened on the table. "They're exploiting our weakness after the Nine-Tails' attack. They think we're vulnerable."
"And they're not entirely wrong," Homura added, his voice clipped. "Our forces are stretched thin. Pulling ninja from the borders risks signaling weakness to the other villages."
Hiruzen exhaled, the sound heavy in the quiet room. "If we show any sign of faltering, it could spark the Fourth Great Ninja War. Konoha cannot afford that—not now."
Danzo leaned forward. "We have no choice. The academy students must be prepared. Some may need to be deployed."
Koharu's eyes widened. "Children? You're suggesting we send students to war?"
"They're not just children," Danzo countered. "They're training to be ninja. If Waterfall believes they can strike us now, we must show them—and every other village—that Konoha's strength endures, even in our youth."
Hiruzen's gaze dropped to the desk, where a scroll lay unrolled, detailing troop movements. His fingers traced the edge of the parchment, as if searching for another answer. "We'll increase training at the academy," he said finally. "But deployment… that's a last resort."
Danzo's lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing.
"Notify the instructors," Hiruzen continued, his voice heavy with resolve. "Prepare the students for what may come. And pray it doesn't."
As the advisors dispersed, the weight of their decision settled over the room, a shadow of the sacrifices yet to come.