The morning sun filtered through the wide windows of the Ninja Academy, painting golden rectangles across the worn wooden desks. The classroom was a chaos of high-pitched voices, nervous laughter, and the overflowing energy typical of children who believed they were about to conquer the world. To them, becoming genin was the pinnacle of existence—the first great step toward glory.
Outside, in the hallway, Naruto Uzumaki's footsteps echoed with measured cadence.
He did not run. He did not trip over his own feet driven by anxiety. His breathing followed the rhythm of Chaos Refinement, inhaling the scarce natural energy of the surroundings and exhaling the impurities of his mortal body. Each step was rooted into the ground, his center of gravity perfectly balanced—a habit forged through four hundred years of survival in the ruthless Immortal World.
He stopped in front of the sliding classroom door. In his previous life—the one that now felt like a feverish dream—he would have kicked that door open, shouting at the top of his lungs to demand the attention the world denied him.
He extended a hand, grasped the wooden handle, and slid the door open with a smooth, silent motion.
The noise inside did not cease immediately, but those closest to the entrance felt a subtle shift in the air pressure.
Shikamaru Nara, reclining lazily over his desk with half-closed eyes, was the first to notice the anomaly. He opened one eye, expecting to see the usual loud blond proclaiming he would become Hokage. Instead, he saw a boy walking with a straight back, relaxed shoulders, and a steady gaze fixed ahead.
How troublesome, Shikamaru thought, frowning slightly. That idiot… why is he walking like the ground belongs to him? He's not making any noise. That's… weird.
Naruto walked down the aisle between the desks. To his left, Sakura Haruno was locked in a heated argument with Ino Yamanaka over the seat beside the prodigy of the Uchiha clan.
The moment Sakura caught sight of the orange jacket from the corner of her eye, she stiffened, preparing her usual barrage of insults to chase away the annoying blond who always begged for her attention.
"—Naruto, don't you dare sit he—!"
The words died in her throat.
Naruto did not stop. He did not flash her that expression of blind adoration, nor did he attempt to insert himself into her dispute. In fact, he did not even look at her. He walked past as if Sakura and Ino were nothing more than stone statues in a palace garden. His blue eyes—deep and serene—were fixed on an empty desk in the back row near the window.
Sakura blinked, utterly bewildered. A strange and irrational sting of indignation coursed through her chest.
Did he just ignore me? Me? That idiot Naruto ignored me?!
Naruto took his seat with the same fluid grace. He folded his hands over the desk and turned toward the window, watching the leaves sway in the wind. His mind was already calculating how to optimize his chakra circulation during the idle hours ahead.
Two seats away, Sasuke Uchiha maintained his usual posture of indifference, hands interlaced before his face. Yet his dark eyes shifted toward the blond.
Sasuke was a genius among the mortals of this village, blessed with superior perception thanks to his lineage. He was accustomed to feeling Naruto's hostile, envious stare drilling into his back. That one-sided rivalry was as predictable as sunrise.
But today there was no hostility. No envy.
Sasuke sharpened his gaze, analyzing his classmate's posture. The way Naruto sat… there were no obvious openings. If Sasuke wanted to attack at that very instant, his instincts offered no clear angle. It was the posture of someone in absolute repose—yet ready to kill within a single heartbeat.
What happened to him? Sasuke thought, teeth tightening slightly. That look… he's not seeing me as a rival. He's looking through me.
For the pride of the last Uchiha, that complete lack of interest was far more offensive than any insult Naruto could have shouted.
The door slid open again—this time forcefully—and Iruka Umino entered, carrying a stack of scrolls. His presence alone gradually silenced the murmurs.
"Alright! Quiet down and take your seats!" Iruka ordered, placing the scrolls on the lectern. "As of today, you are official ninja of the Hidden Leaf Village. However, you are still genin—the lowest rank. Your true training begins now."
As Iruka delivered his introductory speech about the Will of Fire and the duties of a shinobi, his eyes scanned the classroom, inevitably settling on the back corner. He expected to see Naruto sleeping, making faces, or interrupting with some irreverent remark.
What he saw made him stumble slightly over his words.
"…and for that reason, you will be assigned into squads… of three."
Naruto was staring directly at him. His blue eyes were clear and attentive, absorbing every word with sepulchral solemnity. But what unsettled Iruka most was not the attention—it was the chakra.
As an experienced chūnin, Iruka could sense the energy signatures of his students. Naruto's chakra used to be a wild, erratic blaze, impossible to ignore. Today, that flame had condensed. It was hidden beneath the surface, contained with meticulous precision—like the dark water of a bottomless well.
Hokage-sama did not exaggerate, Iruka thought, swallowing. The child who entered that hospital is not the same one who left it.
"I will now announce the teams," Iruka continued, regaining composure. "They have been selected by balancing your abilities and grades to maximize efficiency."
Naruto half-closed his eyes.
Balance of forces. The classic system of minor sects—to prevent the weak from dying too quickly and the strong from becoming uncontrollable.
Iruka began reading the list. The names passed like distant murmurs to the former Immortal, until he heard his own.
"Team 7: Naruto Uzumaki… Sakura Haruno…"
Sakura dropped her forehead onto her desk with a dull thud.
"I'm doomed!" she groaned, convinced the universe hated her.
"…and Sasuke Uchiha."
Sakura shot upright, fists raised, a triumphant smile lighting her face.
"Yes! Love conquers all!"
Beside her, Sasuke clicked his tongue in clear irritation at having to carry both the fangirl and the class dead last.
Naruto did not move a single muscle. He did not celebrate being placed with the girl he once liked, nor did he complain about being paired with the boy he once hated. He simply inclined his head slowly toward Iruka—a gesture of martial acknowledgment that unsettled the teacher yet again.
So these are my Dao companions in this life, Naruto reflected silently. A mortal blinded by fleeting emotions, and a talented child shackled by resentment. The heavens possess a rather dark sense of humor.
Iruka finished reading the list and gave final instructions.
"This afternoon, you will meet your Jōnin instructors. You may take a break until then. Good luck to all of you."
The classroom erupted into excited chatter. Teams gathered, speculating about their future sensei and planning celebrations.
Naruto remained seated, unmoving as a stone mountain, while his breathing continued to refine the faint chakra of the village. The true test was not these children—but the man who would walk through that door in a few hours.
Time passed slowly within the Academy. One by one, the other teams were collected by their respective Jōnin, leaving the classroom empty—save for three genin seated in a silence heavy with tension.