"Obito?" one boy blurted out.
"Who else?" Obito replied, calmly stepping inside. Rin followed, smiling behind him.
Whispers broke out immediately.
"He's back…"
"He looks a bit different."
"How come he's on time?"
Near the back, Might Guy—dressed in his usual dark green jumpsuit—sprang to his feet and waved vigorously. "Obito! I knew you wouldn't stay down for long! Youth burns brightest when tested by hardships!"
At the front row, Kakashi looked up briefly from beneath his silver fringe. His expression didn't change, but his gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual before he turned back to the blackboard.
Obito nodded slightly towards Guy and Rin behind him, then made his way to his seat. The noise gradually returned as the rest of the class lost interest, slipping back into their usual chatter.
This was to be expected. The old Obito had always been background noise in the academy and the reason he was known by most was only because he was the dead last in their first monthly assessment and despite that he shamelessly claimed to become the Hokage.
All in all, in a single month, he had managed to secure his place as the class clown.
Soon, the classroom filled completely, and the bell rang with a clear chime. A few moments later, the door slid open again, and their homeroom teacher entered.
Mitsuka Kaminari was a middle-aged man with a short beard, his hair beginning to gray at the sides. He was in charge of all of their class's theoretical lessons.
From his memories, Obito recalled him as one of the better teachers in the academy—patient, fair, and respected by nearly all his students.
"Good morning, everyone," Mitsuka greeted warmly, setting a stack of scrolls on the podium. His gaze swept over the class—and paused when it landed on Obito. A hint of surprise flickered in his eyes. He nodded at him before continuing as usual.
"Today," he said, picking up a piece of chalk and starting to write on the blackboard, "we'll begin with field survival and tactics."
"I've told the same thing to you before the start of every class and will remind you once again. A shinobi must know more than how to fight. You must learn how to move as a team, cover for your comrades, read terrain, and endure under pressure. This subject covers precisely that. Therefore, I might overlook you slacking off in other lessons but not in this one. So pay attention."
Obito sat straighter, opening his notebook and began taking notes.
The academy curriculum covered six main subjects—field survival tactics, general studies, shinobi history, Will of Fire, practical arts, and chakra theory.
It had been three months since the start of the academy. Obito had only attended the first before he transmigrated. But during that time, he had slept through most of the theoretical lessons.
Even in ninja tools utilization and taijutsu—areas the Uchiha usually excelled in—he somehow managed to be one of the worst in the class.
Now after one and a half months of absence, leaving aside ninjutsu, he didn't know how far he had been left behind from the rest of the class. Although the monthly assessment for this month was still a bit far off, he didn't know if he'd be able to catch up in time.
Theory was the easy part. With his mature mind and baptism of university-level education in his previous life, it would be easy to catch up. But taijutsu and ninja tools utilization were another story.
He had to quickly grind them like ninjutsu; otherwise, the gap would only widen.
As the lecture went on, Mitsuka's gaze drifted toward him several times, each time staying a little longer. He just couldn't help it. Obito paying attention in class and seriously taking notes? He wondered if the sun had risen from the west today.
When the topic shifted from field survival tactics to chakra theory, Obito found himself genuinely absorbed in the lesson. Mitsuka's explanations were structured and easy to follow—no wonder he had such a reputation.
Finally, the chalk tapped one last time against the board.
"That will be all for now," Mitsuka said, brushing his hands clean. "Everyone, gather your ninja tools pouch. You'll be heading outside for ninja tools practice and taijutsu sparring. Form lines in the training ground."
The room erupted instantly and children rushed to pack their things—energy flooding back into the room like a wave.
Obito smiled faintly, slipping his notebook into his bag. "Some things never change. No matter the world, kids love the outdoor classes the most."
"Obito," came Mitsuka's voice again from the front. "Come here for a moment."
He approached the podium. The teacher's tone softened. "I heard about your condition from your grandmother. If you're not fully recovered, you can sit out today's sparring. I'll talk to your practical lessons instructor. No one will think less of you."
Obito met his eyes and shook his head, determination flashing in his eyes. "That won't be necessary, sensei. As a man who aims to become Hokage, I can't afford to slack off!"
The conviction in his voice made the teacher blink, then an appreciative smile appeared on his face. "Very well. Just don't push yourself too hard."
Obito bowed slightly, then turned to follow the others.
...
The morning sun cast long beams across the training field. Rows of students stood in front of wooden targets lined neatly along the wall. The chatter among them slowly died down when their instructor—a lean, serious-looking chūnin—stepped forward.
"We'll begin with basic shuriken practice," he said. "Come forward one by one with your ninja tools."
The first boy in line stepped up, clutching a shuriken. He took a moment to aim before hurling it forward. The shuriken spun through the air and embedded itself in the wooden target—but only at the edge, barely sticking.
"Acceptable," the instructor said. "Your aim and posture are fine, but put a little more force into your throw. And keep the wind direction in mind next time."
The boy nodded and stepped aside.
As the line moved, Obito watched each student take their turn. Most of them were about the same—their shuriken hit the target, but only barely. They were first-year students, after all.
Unless someone had trained outside of the classes, the difference between them wasn't that big. Some even missed and got a good earful from the instructor as a result.
Then came Kakashi's turn.
He stepped forward, expression calm, and threw without hesitation. The shuriken flew straight and struck the exact center of the target with a sharp thunk.
The instructor nodded approvingly and praised without reservation. "Excellent, Kakashi."
Obito's turn came next.
He took a slow breath and pulled out a shuriken from his pouch. He tried to imitate the stance the others used, aimed, and then threw with all his might.
The shuriken wobbled in midair, lost speed, and then fell to the ground before reaching the target.
There was a short silence before a few laughs came from behind him.
"Obito Uchiha, right?" the instructor said. "You've got good eyes—use them. Watch how the weapon spins. Don't just throw it randomly. And put some force in those throws."
With that, the instructor told him to step aside. He didn't get as severely reprimanded as the rest who failed. The instructor probably knew his situation.
Obito nodded and calmly stepped aside.
He had fully expected himself to fail. After all, in his past life, the closest he'd come to something like this was throwing paper balls into a trash bin. But shuriken throwing was a completely different thing.
It was like throwing a flying disk, just a lot heavier.
"Practice makes perfect," he thought. He wasn't demotivated. In the end, he just had to grind it like ninjutsu.
He found a quiet spot at the edge of the field and started practicing on his own. One throw after another, adjusting his grip, stance, and angle each time.
By the time class was almost over, a few of his shuriken had already hit the outer ring of the target with a weak but satisfying thunk.
He let out a small breath, a faint smile forming on his face.
Ninja Tool Utilization: Beginner (11/100) → Beginner (20/100)
It wasn't much, but it was something.
The instructor clapped his hands. "Alright, gather up. We'll move on to taijutsu sparring. When I call your name, step forward."
The students quickly lined up again.
"Tsukishima Haru and Shinozuke Akito," the instructor called.