The silence in the classroom was almost palpable. Only the rustle of paper occasionally tore through it.
Pulling a deliberately stern face, Iruka handed out the last sheets with the graduation exam.
The air was crackling with tension; for most of the kids sitting here, this was one of the most important moments of their lives.
I just lazily took my sheet and skimmed through the questions. The history of Konoha, basic principles of ninjutsu, squad formation tactics, properties of explosive tags… Mm-hm. Like everything else in this dump of a school, it was elementary for me.
Sighing, I picked up my pen and started writing. My hand moved carelessly, putting answers down on paper, while my mind was completely free and, with mild boredom, started analyzing the situation around me.
My gaze snagged on Sasuke, now seated across the aisle.
They'd split us up so the tight-knit little groups that used to sit together wouldn't whisper and cheat off each other.
Anyway. He was frowning hard, eyes boring into some question, fingers nervously twirling his pen. Yeah… A year ago, he would've been sitting there with the look of a king who someone had taken a shit under the crown of, so he couldn't move or the headpiece would slip, the contents would spill out and start stinking. Radiating an aura of superiority and all that. And now… something had changed.
I snorted to myself, remembering that first spar, when this guy's world—where he was the perfect genius—started to crack. That loss rattled him hard. His fan club, of course, thinned out. There were noticeably fewer squeals and adoring sighs. But it seemed to do Sasuke some good. He got more focused, angrier, but that anger went not into stupid grudges, but into training sessions till he was drenched in sweat. He started looking down on everyone less; now, there was more often a sober assessment in his eyes, sizing people up. Just… still not enough. Maybe he'll actually amount to something… if he starts training properly, because so far I haven't really seen much progress. And, of course, if he doesn't break under his obsession with avenging his brother.
My gaze slid on, to Sakura. She was completely absorbed in the test too, biting her lip in concentration. Looked more confident than before.
I let out a satisfied little grunt.
Then I remembered how she'd caught me a few months ago while I was wandering around the Leaf. That move she pulled honestly shocked me. Sakura stepped over herself that day—over her pride and embarrassment, over her… obsession with one guy. There was a straight-up steel determination in her eyes when she asked, "Uzumaki-san… I don't want to be just… a burden anymore. I want to stand beside him, not hide behind his back… Please… point me in the right direction… where do I start if I want to stop being weak?"
Over the year, with every one of Sasuke's losses, it was like her fangirl fanaticism dimmed, leaving room for sober desperation and stubbornness. Sakura realized that just being in love wasn't enough to stand next to people like Sasuke… or me. She wanted to change herself.
That's worthy of respect.
That's how my little "Project: Sakura" started, as I sometimes call it with mixed feelings.
Basically, I'd gotten something like a student. My motivation, apart from the fact that it's just interesting to watch something grow under your commands, was—
You could say I was growing grass… no, that's not it. A plant… a tree. Sakura, yeah.
Back then, still aiming at some kind of ideal, I didn't just "help with training." Our relationship got a lot more complicated.
From time to time we'd meet at the training ground, where either I or a clone would run her through simple exercises so she wouldn't wreck her still-weak body, and give her advice on what to read. But my real help wasn't just that. At almost every meeting I methodically knocked some sense into her, talking about how baseless her feelings were. My words were softer and more vague, but if you strip it down, my thoughts boiled down to: for Sasuke she was, if he needed her at all, only useful as an incubator for reviving the clan. That Sakura had turned herself into a thing that would get used and then tossed once he got bored. And that all of that, actually, was not healthy at all. And even if everything magically worked out for her—I don't know, the stars lined up in a heart shape and she started dating Sasuke—in the end it would only lead to the girl suffering. Because, from what I've seen, an Uchiha and the concept of a healthy relationship just don't mix.
Cruel? Maybe.
But it's like surgery. Sometimes you have to cut off the infected part to save the whole. In her case—cut off that blind dependency to save her personality.
My lessons were yielding results, visible to both of us. Especially in terms of her growing stronger. Mentally, she still didn't completely believe me, but tiny seeds of doubt had already sprouted. And those were probably the only reasons she kept hanging around me, putting up with my "lectures." And that progress only made it more interesting for me—what would grow in the end.
My gaze lazily swept over the rest of the class.
A lot had changed over the years.
Ino and Sakura now competed more in grades and skills than for Sasuke's attention, though old habits sometimes kicked back in. They'd also somehow gotten closer again, if not like they were at the start of their friendship.
Shikamaru… I looked at his desk. That Nara didn't look like he'd ever change. Arms folded on the table, he was peacefully snoring away. Thank god. His laziness was a kind of constant in this world of chaos.
Choji next to him, as always, was quietly rustling a bag of chips, hiding behind a scroll. Reliable rear guard. Knows how to set priorities—food first, exam later.
Hinata…
My gaze softened for a split second.
She'd gotten braver. She'd started conversations herself more often and actually kept them going. After that incident with the elder, something in her broke—but in a good way. She clearly understood that she could and should hit back.
The rest of the classmates… still the same. With some, things were neutral, but a lot of them kept their distance. That thing that used to be close to fear—or rather, a kind of cold detachment from me—had eased up in their eyes. The rest, especially among the non-clan kids, had shuffled around a lot. I mean literally: some got expelled, some did other crap, and new kids got transferred in. Their looks were more cautious, with curiosity and confusion mixed in. For them, I had the reputation of some kind of puzzle. A weird, strong psycho with a certificate, who technically studied in their class but in reality was off wandering around most of the time.
That distant attitude from the non-clan side suited me. They're new every year anyway. Easier to keep my distance.
I put my pen down on the desk. Ten minutes. The test was done. I'd written just a bit more than what was needed to pass—no point stressing and writing more.
With my sphere-sight, I glanced at Hinata's paper. Attagirl, she's handling it.
Took a look at Sakura's sheet. Oh, I had no doubts about her either.
I raised my eyes and met Iruka's gaze.
I smiled, and he rolled his eyes and looked away.
After that I deliberately put my head down on my crossed arms and closed my eyes. Let the others sweat. I was going to catch a nap.
After crashing during the written part, I was dragged along with my classmates out to the Academy training ground. Why they even bothered hauling me out there wasn't exactly clear. But the air was fresher, which I liked. My classmates, full of nerves and anticipation, weren't in the mood to enjoy little things like that.
For them, this was the most important part—the demonstration of real skills. For me, it was just another formality. I felt like yawning and lying down somewhere.
First up was ninjutsu. One by one, we were called to the center of the field. Transformation Technique… Without much enthusiasm, I turned into an exact copy of Hiruzen, down to the wrinkles around his eyes and that faint fruity smell he sometimes carried. That got a surprised cough out of Iruka-sensei and a top score.
Next—the Illusionary Clone Technique. I watched as some of the non-clan kids huffed and puffed, creating pale, half-transparent copies that could barely stay on their feet.
When my turn came, I did it by the book—well, by the scroll, technically. I formed the seal and, putting in the bare minimum of chakra, created three perfect illusionary clones next to me. They were indistinguishable from me, without a single flaw.
"Excellent, Uzumaki-san! Full marks!" Iruka noted, scribbling something on his clipboard.
I nodded, dispelled the clones and went back to contemplating the weather. I only watched closely when it was the turn of people I knew well—or not so well—to see how they did. Every one of them passed.
And finally, taijutsu. The last spars. Iruka, just like I expected, left the most interesting for the end.
"Final match! Uzumaki Naruto! Uchiha Sasuke! To the center!"
A ripple of excited noise ran through the crowd of students. Judging by the reaction, this was what pretty much everyone had been waiting for. Our unspoken duel for the title of strongest in the class had been going on for more than a year. Well, "going on." The Uchiha had always—like, seriously, always—lost to me. So the picture never really changed.
But now, apparently, the brats around me were thinking something might be different.
Sasuke stepped into the circle, his face a stone mask. As always. But there was a grim resolve burning in his black eyes. For him, this wasn't just an exam. It was a chance to prove something to himself after a string of humiliating defeats in our rare but brutal training spars.
We stood facing each other.
"Begin!" Iruka commanded.
Sasuke launched himself forward. His speed was… not great. In my opinion, he was using his potential pretty damn poorly. But compared to the rest of our age group—impressive. Each of his strikes, basically, was sharp, polished and packed with aggression. He was showing off a perfect academy style, boosted by Uchiha talent.
A series of punches, a feint, a sudden kick…
I just moved. Calm, economical, almost lazy. I dodged, shifted, redirected his blows with light taps, using his own momentum so he'd keep swinging into thin air. Sasuke attacked, I defended. From the outside it probably looked like an even fight, but I saw every one of his mistakes, every gap in his guard he left in the heat of attacking.
He got angrier, his movements faster, but more and more desperate. And there it was—the moment. The Uchiha put everything into a powerful straight right, hoping to smash through my defense.
I made a short, almost invisible sidestep. His fist whistled past a centimeter from my ear. In that same instant, before he could recover his balance, I stepped in, right into his "dead zone." My hand didn't clench into a fist. Instead, with an open palm, I landed a short, whipping strike right under his floating ribs.
"Hhhk!" came out of Sasuke.
The sound was almost inaudible, but the effect was instant.
Sasuke's body froze. His eyes, until then burning with rage, went wide with shock and pain.
The air wheezed out of his lungs. He tried to inhale but couldn't—his paralyzed diaphragm just wouldn't cooperate.
The Uchiha folded in half, clutching his side, and dropped to one knee.
The fight was over.
A dead silence hung over the crowd of students. I calmly lowered my hand and looked at my fallen opponent with a neutral expression.
Quick and clean. Let the opponent show what he could do and finished it without lasting damage.
"The winner—Uzumaki Naruto!" Iruka finally announced, with a bit of a delay, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.
That same day, literally fifteen minutes after the spars ended, Iruka came back to our classroom and read out the list of students who passed, telling them to come forward right away to receive their headbands.
While Iruka was handling the ninjutsu checks and spars, the other teachers were grading our written tests and updating the records as the numbers came in. That way, graduation day was basically on a conveyor belt and got organized pretty efficiently—in a single day.
All the people I knew passed, along with nine others I barely talked to. Seven were sent to repeat the course.
The mood was strange. We moved to another classroom. The tension bled away once the ones who hadn't passed were gone.
"The top graduate, who showed the best combined results across all years of study, is… Uchiha Sasuke!"
Iruka handed Sasuke a brand-new forehead protector with the Konoha symbol. He took it silently and, yup, with that stone face, tied it around his head.
For the Uchiha, this announcement was an empty formality. In the eyes of the whole class, he'd lost. And Sasuke knew it.
A full-on fallen-hero drama was playing out right in front of me.
He threw a quick, complicated look my way, with old anger, stubborn rivalry and, unless I imagined it, a shadow of reluctant acknowledgment all mixed together.
I got my headband one of the next. I couldn't care less about rankings and combined subject scores. Why bother when they're going to hand it to you anyway? Perfect numbers are nice and all, but not when they cost serious effort.
I smirked a little as I took the protector, drawing yet another heavy sigh from Iruka. My strength couldn't be measured by the grades in his scroll. Umino, who'd marked me absent more times than he could count, didn't like that much. But we both knew I didn't really belong in this building, and that those grades were clearly not being given to someone unworthy of them. So he swallowed it and barely complained.
After we got the headbands, they took us up to the roof of the Hokage's Residence to take ID photos. I wasn't feeling particularly energetic today, but I scraped together enough effort to make the picture come out a bit better.
Then they cut us loose until the next day, when the team assignments were going to happen.
Later. One floor below. Hokage's Office
The old man—definitely old, if you asked most people—was, as usual, shuffling through papers at his desk.
A knock sounded, and the Hokage chuckled.
The guest he'd summoned was behind the door.
At his permission, Hatake Kakashi stepped into the office. In one piece, in a fresh, equally intact uniform.
"Long time no see, Kakashi. How've you been?"
The silver-haired man's shoulders twitched as he remembered something.
"I've been better," he replied, then added in a pained tone, "Is it that time again?"
"Yes, time to take on a new genin team," Hiruzen nodded calmly and set one of the folders in front of him. "But first. How did the spar with Naruto-kun go? I heard you ended up in the hospital."
"M-mm." Kakashi chewed his lip and averted his single visible eye. "I'd prefer not to run into him again."
"Really? You did figure out who his parents are? Or rather, remembered?"
"M-hm." Hatake looked even more uncomfortable. "I did… But I think he's better off living the way he has been. I'd only get in the way."
"That's too harsh on yourself. You blame yourself too much sometimes, Kakashi. It's not healthy and it does no good, neither for you nor for those still trying to drag you out of your depression."
Kakashi pulled another face, unable to say anything back.
Gai, Kurenai, Asuma, some of the ANBU he often worked with—he couldn't really call them friends.
Or rather, he barely admitted it to himself, but he didn't want to. Because the people he called friends or anything close to it had a habit of dying way too fast…
"But I can also see you've become a bit more alive," Hiruzen went on. "That spar definitely did you some good."
"Maybe," Kakashi admitted with a sigh, his shoulders slumping. "But please, don't set something like that up for me again, Hokage-sama."
"Hm." Sarutobi leaned back in his chair. "Alright, I won't set anything like that up again."
Then he tapped the folder with his fingertips, hinting for the jonin to look it over.
Stepping closer, Kakashi opened it. Inside, just as he'd thought, were the files of his future genin.
"Oh, an Uchiha," Hatake murmured, reading through the profile and nodding, impressed. "Good potential."
Right under the Uchiha's file was the file of some pink-haired kunoichi. Kakashi lifted it to read as well—but as soon as that sheet left the folder, his eye caught on the page beneath…
There was a file with a photo of a very memorable blond, who, striking some rocker pose with his hand under his chin, was staring into the camera with a grin and his tongue sticking out.
"N-no," Kakashi quickly shook his head.
"From now on, arranging those kinds of spars will be your job," Hiruzen said, his smile spreading. "This team isn't going to fail your test, heh."
"N-no!" The realization finally hit Kakashi fully.
"Just, you know, make sure you survive," Hiruzen added, and waved his hand, signaling the conversation was over.
Shinobi Academy. Uzumaki Naruto's POV
The next day, the atmosphere in the classroom was completely different. The emotional fever had been replaced by a trembling anticipation. Today decided our future lives as shinobi. Team assignments.
I sat in my usual seat next to Hinata and lazily watched the commotion.
Iruka-sensei stood in front of us with his clipboard, his face serious, but there were sparks in his eyes—he was clearly enjoying the moment.
"Alright, graduates, congratulations once again!" he began. "Today you stop being just students and become genin teams under the leadership of experienced jonin. I'll read out the team lineups. Listen carefully."
He started reading. Team Three… Team Five… I let the names go in one ear and out the other, running potential combinations in my head. Who would I be effective with? No, what a dumb thought… Obviously, with a tight-knit squad of elite jonin. But there aren't any of those here.
Given the options we had: Shikamaru is smart but lazy. Shino is reliable but secretive. Sasuke… Sasuke is a problem case, and in my opinion, sometimes just plain not right in the head.
"…Team Ten: Yamanaka Ino, Nara Shikamaru, Akimichi Choji!"
An indignant huff from Ino and a tired groan from Shikamaru sounded. Choji, predictably, just crunched his chips, unbothered. Classic. And their sensei is classic too—Sarutobi Asuma. Hiruzen's prodigal son came back, made peace with daddy and is now in the Leaf again.
"…Team Eight: Hyuga Hinata…"
I felt the girl next to me tense up. Me too.
Our eyes met for half a second.
There was hope in hers; something similar flickered in mine, along with curiosity.
But when Iruka went on, it became clear it wasn't meant to be.
"…Inuzuka Kiba, Aburame Shino!"
Hinata and I exchanged another look, this time with clear disappointment in her eyes, and I felt a faint pang of annoyance.
Real shame. It's comfortable being around her, and… sigh…
But at least she'll be with familiar faces. Kiba's loud, but overall not a bad guy. Shino's quiet and, again, reliable. Not a bad lineup for her—a tracker team.
"Your commander," Iruka continued, "will be the jonin-tracker, Yamashiro Aoba."
My eyebrows climbed up. Not Kurenai? Well, damn. Interesting… So my influence is already changing the layout of power and fates.
Probably should've seen that coming.
Though it's kind of depressing that this is reality and not some story in a book. If it were, maybe I could've dug up all the dirt. As it is, I don't know canon completely, I don't have all the facts, which makes building any kind of theory way harder—and pointless. A fleeting bout of curiosity isn't worth hours of clone labor.
"And lastly, Team Seven…" Iruka made a dramatic pause. "Uchiha Sasuke."
I saw Sasuke, who'd been sitting there with a stone face, tense up slightly. His back instantly straightened, and there was hope in his eyes—for strong teammates who wouldn't hold him back.
"…Uzumaki Naruto."
Sasuke's shoulders slumped. He slowly tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling with a look that screamed he was asking all the gods at once, "Why? What did I do wrong?"
"…and Haruno Sakura!"
Right then, Sakura's joyful, almost hysterical shriek tore through the classroom, followed by, "I'm on the same team as Sasuke-ku-u-un!"
Sasuke, hearing that, hunched over sharply, like the weight of the whole world had just been dumped on him. I could practically read his thoughts: "Guess my last five reincarnations were total sinners. And I'm the one stuck paying for all of them," the Uchiha was thinking.
A heavy sigh escaped me.
An emotionally unstable avenger and his fangirl, who's going through rehab under my supervision.
"Thanks, fate, if you even exist," flashed through my head, dripping sarcasm.
Well, at least it probably won't be boring.
I caught Iruka's eye, and he seemed to get everything without a word, just shook his head sympathetically. Lately we'd gotten pretty good at understanding each other. Shame we wouldn't be seeing each other much anymore.
As the teams started leaving with their new instructors, I walked over to the girl who'd basically become a good friend.
"Good luck, Hinata," I said and, before she could react, pulled her into a short but tight hug. She froze for a moment, then hesitantly hugged me back. "We'll definitely keep in touch and see each other. Practice my 'move.'"
I stepped back, gave her a wink, and after getting a similar, if more awkward, line from her, I went back to my new "team."
The rest of my ex-classmates were pretty quickly picked up by their instructors. We said some slightly sad goodbyes and split up.
In the end, only our trio was left in the room.
Sakura was trying to say something to Sasuke; he grimly ignored her, staring at the wall. I just sat on top of a desk and waited.
Five minutes passed. Ten.
Sakura started pacing nervously around the room. Sasuke sank into even darker silence. I was getting frankly bored.
Fifteen minutes.
That was it. My patience was gone.
I jumped off the desk.
"Naruto-kun, where are you going?" Sakura asked in surprise. "Our sensei could show up any minute!"
"Home," I tossed over my shoulder, heading for the door. "My time's worth more than his punctuality. Tell sensei I waited exactly fifteen minutes. And that he's going to have to pay for that…"
Without waiting for an answer, I slid the door open and walked out, leaving behind a stunned Sakura and, unless I was seeing things, a faintly smirking Sasuke, who apparently appreciated my attitude.
A note from your kind author-san.
I want to briefly explain for readers why events aren't lining up exactly with canon. It'd be hard and not really necessary to spell this out inside the story itself, but if there are canon super-nerds among you, this note is for you.
In the original story: Hinata was very soft and weak for an heiress. Her father, Hiashi, was disappointed in her. The turning point was a fight where Hinata lost to her younger sister, Hanabi. After that, Hiashi basically "handed" her over to Kurenai, seeing his daughter as feeble and seeing no future clan head in her.
In this story: Because of Naruto's constant influence (his support, his example of confidence, and his "lectures"), Hinata started to change. Slowly—but over the years, water wears down stone. She began training harder and gained more confidence, which you saw in the incident with the elder. That incident didn't just show it to you, it also showed it to Hiashi—he found out about it.
As a result, by the time a fight with Hanabi could have happened, Hinata had become much stronger. Hiashi, being a pragmatist, understood that the outcome was obvious—this time Hanabi would lose. So a showy "duel for the inheritance" wasn't even considered; it would've been pointless. On top of that, Hiashi could see his heiress changing, becoming more resilient, so he couldn't write her off as completely incapable of being a leader.
So Hiashi had no reason to "get rid of" Hinata by passing her off to Kurenai. Without that close bond between them that formed in canon, Kurenai never became Team 8's instructor. Instead, a jonin more suited to a sensor-type squad was assigned. The synergy's pretty clear: the Inuzuka's dog nose, the Aburame's chakra-tracking bugs, and Hinata's Byakugan, which already sees pretty far—and will only see farther, plus through obstacles, in the future.
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