The sky was clear without a cloud in sight.
It was a perfect day.
Today was the opening ceremony at the Konoha Ninja Academy.
Akira got up early, washed up carefully, styled his hair into a neat, refreshing look, and changed into clean clothes.
Standing beneath the morning sun, he almost seemed to be wrapped in a halo.
Combined with the boundless energy of childhood, he looked absolutely unbeatable.
After checking himself in the mirror and confirming everything looked fine, he happily skipped out the door.
Having just gained the extraordinary power known as chakra, each step carrying him four or five meters was an exhilarating feeling.
His home wasn’t far from the Academy.
Leaping over several rooftops, Akira darted across the buildings with ease before arriving beneath the large tree outside the school gates.
He plopped down onto the swing hanging from one of its branches and leisurely amused himself by swinging back and forth.
It was only a little after seven in the morning, so there was still plenty of time.
Students gradually began arriving.
Some children had come alone.
Spotting Akira sitting on the swing, they walked over and naturally formed a small group around him.
The children who arrived with their parents were another story.
Their mothers and fathers held their hands while chatting casually with other adults they knew.
After watching for a while, Akira noticed an interesting pattern.
Most of the children who came by themselves were civilians.
None of them wore the crests of shinobi clans.
Those accompanied by their parents, on the other hand, mostly came from famous clans—the Uchiha, Hyuga, Sarutobi, and others.
The civilian children and the clan children existed in clearly separate circles, almost as if an invisible line divided them.
Each group kept to itself, yet the overall atmosphere remained lively, resembling a bustling festival.
It was strangely surreal.
At exactly eight o’clock, once nearly everyone had arrived and a sea of people crowded the entrance, the gates of the Ninja Academy finally opened.
Holding their admission letters, the children filed inside in orderly lines while the parents gradually departed.
A simple stage had been set up in the training yard.
Several hundred students lined up by height, forming neat rows.
Standing at the front of the platform was the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama.
Three young guards stood on each side of him.
Akira knew exactly who they were.
The six young men beside Tobirama were his six disciples.
In the future, one would die in battle, one would disappear without a trace, two would become Konoha’s elders, one would become the Third Hokage, and the last would become the infamous Lord of the Pot.
Together, they would shape Konoha’s fate for the next forty years.
Tobirama always wore a cold expression.
His personality was naturally aloof, and smiles were exceedingly rare.
Even when addressing Academy students, his face remained expressionless as he solemnly preached the Will of Fire passed down by the First Hokage.
The Will of Fire…
Everyone knew the routine.
First came stories of the First Hokage’s great achievements in ending the Warring States Era, inspiring admiration in impressionable children.
Then came the message that everyone in the village was one family, downplaying the importance of clans while emphasizing collectivism.
Finally, everyone was encouraged to fight for the sake of the village.
Although Tobirama wasn’t particularly approachable, his commanding presence made him convincing.
People couldn’t help believing every word he said.
No matter what world you lived in, leaders never gave short speeches.
A few sentences meant half an hour.
A little extra enthusiasm meant two or three hours disappeared before you knew it.
Akira grew drowsy from listening.
His feet ached from standing still, and his spirits were nearly drained.
Finally…
Tobirama finished speaking.
Akira instantly snapped awake and began applauding.
It was the subconscious reflex of a veteran office worker.
The surrounding students saw him clapping and quickly joined in.
Sparse applause gradually grew into thunderous cheers that echoed across the training yard.
Tobirama glanced at Akira before looking away without another thought.
Sarutobi Hiruzen, however, gave him several extra looks, as though pondering something.
With the ceremony over, the teachers began assigning students to their classes.
The classes had actually been decided long ago during the entrance evaluations.
Calling names now was simply going through the motions.
One by one, the teachers read from their rosters.
Akira was assigned to First Year, Class A.
Following his classmates, he entered Classroom 101.
The classroom was arranged in a tiered layout, lower in the front and higher in the back.
Each desk seated three students, and stacks of textbooks had already been neatly prepared.
As soon as he entered, Akira headed straight toward the back.
He took a seat beside the window in the second-to-last row.
The view was excellent.
It was quiet without being isolated, and from there he could overlook the entire classroom.
As the saying went: “The back row by the window, the homeland of kings.” ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ [The More You Know] “Back row by the window, the homeland of kings” is a Chinese anime-fandom joke about the classroom seat often given to main characters in Japanese anime.
Because protagonists frequently sit in the back row beside the window, the spot is humorously treated as the natural “throne” of powerful, mysterious, or important characters.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Akira liked sitting up high and surveying everything below.
It gave him the illusion that everything was under his control.
Just then, a blonde-haired little girl walked into the classroom with an air of effortless confidence.
Her beautiful face and self-assured presence immediately drew everyone’s attention.
As she walked, heads turned to follow her.
The classroom quickly filled with whispers.
“Who’s that?
She’s so pretty!” “No idea.
I’ve never seen her before.” The chatter grew louder.
The blonde girl paid no attention whatsoever.
Her gaze swept across the classroom before quickly locking onto a target.
The back row.
By the window.
Good lighting.
Far enough back to avoid unnecessary attention.
A perfect vantage point overlooking the whole room.
She walked directly toward it.
Several classmates who knew her greeted her along the way.
She simply smiled and nodded in response, as though she were already accustomed to this kind of attention.
Without hesitation, she stopped in front of Akira, pulled out the chair beside him, and sat down.
She tossed her small ninja pouch onto the desk with practiced ease.
Her movements were so natural that it almost seemed like the seat had always belonged to her.
As soon as she sat down, Akira introduced himself first.
“Hello.
My name is Akira.
I look forward to studying with you.” The girl turned her head.
A trace of surprise flashed across her delicate, adorable face.
A civilian-born child actually had the courage to speak to her first.
Her brown eyes met Akira’s.
She found none of the timidity common among children from ordinary families.
A bright smile immediately bloomed across her face.
“Hello, Akira.
My name is Tsunade.
It’s nice to meet you.” So it really was Tsunade.
The legendary gambling addict.
Akira raised an eyebrow in surprise.
He had assumed she was a girl from the Yamanaka Clan.
Instead, it turned out to be her.
After exchanging greetings and introducing themselves, both fell silent.
Having just made a new friend, neither knew what to say next, and an awkward silence settled between them.
While waiting for the teacher to arrive, Akira glanced around at the students seated below.
He spotted a pale-skinned boy who looked suspiciously like Orochimaru.
But he couldn’t find the white, spiky-haired Jiraiya anywhere.
Weren’t the Legendary Sannin supposed to be in the same class?