At the Academy gate, after a brief greeting with the Namikaze family, the Uchiha filed in as the doors swung open for the new term.
As Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato had been invited to deliver this year's opening address. In the past, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had stood on this stage preaching the Will of Fire; the Academy was the fountainhead of Konoha's future, and speaking here reaffirmed a leader's presence. But as Minato's grip on the village firmed, Hiruzen had receded from view. In the council, Shimura Danzo had been "transferred" to the Cloud front by Minato and could not return; the remaining advisors, Koharu and Homura, were venerable but no longer formidable. With the old pressure eased, Minato now appeared openly—consolidating both reputation and legitimacy.
"Sasuke, that man is the Fourth Hokage," Uchiha Fugaku said with a faint smile, eyes on Minato's family as they passed. "You'll be in the same class as his son, Uzumaki Naruto. Get along."
For parents, the opening ceremony doubled as a social call—time to place names, faces, and futures together. Minato slipped off to prepare his speech. Fugaku lingered, intent on a few more introductions. Connections were power; even the proud Uchiha needed a good relationship with the Hokage. That his younger son would enter alongside the Hokage's boy was a fortunate alignment—one even a cautious man could appreciate.
"The Hokage's son… Uzumaki Naruto…"
"Don't worry, Father," Sasuke answered seriously, missing the point entirely. "I definitely won't lose to him."
Fugaku blinked, then patted his shoulder. "That's fine too. Just don't shame the Uchiha name."
At six, Sasuke brimmed with the fragile pride of youth. Life beside a prodigy—Itachi—had left him hungry for acknowledgment. Itachi had learned the Fireball after a single demonstration; Sasuke had needed long hours before his first perfect flame. Extraordinary for a child, but comparison was a cage. To Itachi, Fugaku said, "As expected of my son." To Sasuke: "Not bad—but not as good as your brother."
"The clan head's younger son." "The genius's brother." Shackles, both. The Academy would be his first real chance to prove his own edge—though he didn't yet know it would also be the beginning of life under an even larger shadow.
As the crowd thinned, more families drifted in. Fugaku exchanged polite greetings with the Nara, Yamanaka, and others. Respectable, yes—but none held the Uchiha's aura.
Sasuke met several children, yet his gaze kept hooking on the blond boy: Naruto. Sons of great men, both—fitting rivals.
Growing restless, Sasuke tugged at Fugaku's sleeve. "Father, when do we go in?"
"Wait a bit," Fugaku said. "They should be here."
A small group approached at an easy pace. Recognizing them, Fugaku stepped forward, smiling. "Late, even living this close?"
At the head, Hyuga Hiashi inclined courteously. The families exchanged warm greetings. Fugaku drew Sasuke beside him.
"Sasuke, this is the head of the Hyuga—your Uncle Hiashi. Greet him properly."
Though older than Hiashi, Fugaku had Sasuke say "uncle" to mark clan closeness. The Uchiha and Hyuga had long kept cordial ties—meals shared, favors exchanged—though Sasuke had been too small to remember.
"Uncle Hiashi," Sasuke said, bowing neatly.
Hiashi chuckled. "Polite—expected of Fugaku's son. Fine upbringing."
He gestured to his children. "This is my son, Hyuga Satoru, and my daughter, Hyuga Hinata. Hinata will be in your class, Sasuke. I hope you get along."
The exchange had the smoothness of ritual. Hinata peeked at Sasuke and nodded, shy but steady. She'd heard plenty of the Uchiha. For years, Konoha had debated its "Number One Noble Clan" between Hyuga and Uchiha. When Itachi's fame flared, many compared him to Satoru; but because Satoru rarely appeared in public, the village soon accepted Itachi's superiority as fact. Hinata remembered that gossip. Seeing the Uchiha now lit a small spark of rivalry. This younger Hinata was competitive—possessive, even. At times Satoru wondered, deadpan, if his little sister had transmigrated too.
After a few more courtesies, Fugaku and Hiashi led the children inside.
The ceremony itself felt almost modern. Minato spoke cleanly of the Will of Fire—planting the seeds of "love your village, cherish your comrades." New students stood in tidy ranks while parents ringed the field; some listened, some traded whispers. For all the pomp, today belonged to the children.
"See the blond in front? The Hokage's son!"
"Can you imagine? Teaching him!"
"This batch is stacked—so many clan heirs."
"Which means if we slip, we answer to their parents…"
Behind the stage, instructors murmured. This year's class was unusually noble-heavy—honor and burden in one. Among them stood a young chunin, Umino Iruka, composed and attentive. The Third had personally appointed him as homeroom teacher for Class 1—the year's most talented, best-connected students. A nightmare assignment for most. Iruka had hesitated until Hiruzen's gentle nudge:
Stay true to your kindness and passion. Your heart will guide the next generation.
Iruka believed him.
"That's Hinata's teacher?" Hanako asked softly at the sidelines, Byakugan flickering. "He looks so young. Will he manage?"
Of course the Hyuga had investigated teachers and classmates already. Though Hinata bore the branch designation, she was still the clan head's daughter.
"Umino Iruka," Hiashi said, thoughtful. "Appointed by the Third. There won't be problems."
He'd done his homework—while noting what it implied: politics curled even here. Minato's speech; Hiruzen's appointment. Harmony, but not unity.
Beside them, Satoru stood quietly, gaze far away—ghosts of another life's school days brushing past.
"Satoru?" Hanako's voice was gentle. "Would you like to attend the Academy for a year or two?"
She'd seen the flicker and misread it as wistfulness. Satoru's childhood had been narrow and disciplined.
"Me? At the Academy?" Satoru smiled faintly. "Mother, don't tease. That life isn't meant for me."
Minato's address was brief—mercifully so. When it ended, children funneled into classrooms for introductions; parents lingered just long enough to make sure everything felt safe, then withdrew. The real Academy days began.
The Academy took only those with spark; most had trained at home already. Class 1 was the crop's cream. Even the "ordinary" among them—Haruno Sakura, for one—had standout strengths. Years later, she would be the only rookie to pass the Chunin Exam written test without cheating.
On day one, after self-introductions, Iruka led the class outside for their first practical: a sparring drill. Shinobi live by combat; better they learn the feel early. Many first-years were green; clan kids were not. Iruka's real target was to gauge the heirs.
He started with the Seal of Reconciliation—its meaning and history. Six-year-olds squirmed. Iruka let them. When he finished, he called for volunteers.
As expected, the diffident stayed silent while the confident hands shot up. Among them, of course, Uchiha Sasuke.
"The black-haired boy—yes. You want to volunteer? Name?"
"My name is Uchiha Sasuke, sensei."
Sasuke stepped forward, cool as he'd practiced, and drew a hush—especially from the girls.
Iruka scanned for a suitable match when a spiky-haired boy bounded in, a tiny puppy perched on his head.
"I'll fight him!" yipped Inuzuka Kiba—the puppy yipped, too.
Iruka had intended to watch Naruto, but Kiba's zeal derailed him. He nodded. "Very spirited. State names to each other, perform the Seal of Opposition, and begin."
Even mock battles followed form. Kiba grumbled and complied. Sasuke mirrored him, calm.
"Begin!"
Kiba shot forward, fist streaking for Sasuke's cheek—quick for a child, jealousy souring his swing. Sasuke was quicker. He bent back, letting the punch skim past, hooked Kiba's arm aside with a low sweep, planted his hands, and whipped a spinning heel into Kiba's shoulder. Before Kiba could gather himself, Sasuke landed light, pivoted, and scythed his legs.
Thud.
Kiba hit hard—dirt merciful, pride less so.
"That's enough," Iruka called, stepping in. "Sasuke wins. Seal of Reconciliation."
Face burning, Kiba accepted Sasuke's hand and completed the seal. He hadn't expected the floor that fast. Around them, cheers burst—So cool!Amazing!
To most, Sasuke looked every inch the prodigy. To sharper eyes, he was something rarer: polished at six.
At the edge of the line, Hinata tugged a sleeve. "Your turn next, Naruto-kun," she whispered, fierce and soft at once. "You can win. I know it."
Since stepping onto campus, she'd hardly left his side. Even with Shikamaru, Choji, and others around him, Naruto was already their center.
A new generation was taking shape. And on day one, under cherry blossoms and a clear sky, the strongest freshman wore the old clan name like a promise.
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