“Eat up!
Why aren’t you eating?
This meal’s on me!”
Kushina Uzumaki laughed heartily as she patted her flat chest.
Yakumo stared helplessly at the bowl of tonkotsu miso ramen in front of him, not daring to touch it.
He was trapped, and the whole mess had started just a few minutes earlier.
The moment his mission was completed, Yakumo’s first instinct had been to get out of there as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately, the speed of a Jonin was no joke.
Before he could even react, Kushina Uzumaki had appeared right in front of him.
“Little boy, you’ve looked me over twice in the past ten seconds.
And that thing you shouted just now—you deliberately said it for me to hear, didn’t you?”
Kushina smiled as she placed her right hand on Yakumo’s shoulder.
With just that one touch, he lost the ability to react.
Even though she meant him no harm, the immense chakra she possessed instinctively overwhelmed and suppressed him.
“Of course not!” Yakumo replied, though his voice lacked conviction.
So this was the perception that came with the Nine-Tails’ buff!
She’d even noticed his brief glances.
“Since you have such excellent taste, I’ll treat you to my favorite food!”
Kushina declared cheerfully.
Is she happy because I complimented her hair color?
Yakumo wondered.
He wasn’t particularly willing to accept the invitation, but he couldn’t resist Kushina’s strength.
Before he knew it, she was practically dragging him toward the ramen stand.
“Uncle Ichiraku!
Two bowls of tonkotsu miso ramen!”
Yakumo stole a glance at Mori Yasuko, who stood nearby looking completely at a loss.
Meanwhile, the rich aroma of the pork-bone broth filled the air.
“Eat…”
A few minutes later, staring at his empty bowl, Yakumo couldn’t help recalling the famous words:
Damn, this is delicious!
“Why were you sneaking glances at me?”
Kushina wiped the grease from the corner of her mouth and questioned him.
It had to be admitted that Kushina Uzumaki was beautiful.
Her slender figure was perfectly proportioned without lacking strength, and her long, flawless legs were particularly striking.
“Well, um…”
“I get it!
You’re not telling me you’ve fallen in love with me at first sight, are you?
Too bad for you, little brother.
Your big sister already has a boyfriend!”
Kushina continued talking as though she’d figured everything out.
“NO!!!
We’re going to be late for class!
Goodbye, big sister!”
Yakumo grabbed Mori Yasuko by the wrist and dashed toward the Academy, looking exactly like a boy whose secret crush had just been exposed.
Watching Yakumo flee, the corners of Kushina’s lips curled into a charming smile.
This was the second time someone had sincerely praised her red hair.
The first had been her current boyfriend, Minato Namikaze.
Whoosh!
A blond-haired young man appeared behind Kushina.
He had handsome, gentle features and a warm smile.
“Looks like you’re in a pretty good mood today, Kushina.”
“I just met a rather interesting boy.”
…
“Huff…
huff…”
After running several hundred meters and confirming that Kushina wasn’t chasing them, Yakumo finally stopped.
Being late for class had merely been an excuse.
I hope she doesn’t start paying attention to me.
“Submit mission.”
That familiar sensation surged from deep within his body.
Yakumo was becoming deeply addicted to the feeling of growing stronger, and a faint smile involuntarily appeared on his face.
“So, Yakumo…
do you really like girls like her?”
Mori Yasuko spoke softly.
For some reason, Yakumo detected a hint of icy sternness in her voice.
“Of course not!” Yakumo replied earnestly, his tone brimming with such convincing sincerity that anyone would have believed him.
…
The instructor responsible for the first-year class was a man named Keisuke Shimizu.
He was a rather strict, middle-aged shinobi with eyes as sharp as an eagle’s.
Yakumo suspected that he had only recently returned from the battlefield and was suffering from severe post-traumatic stress.
All four morning classes covered basic subjects, including geography, history, and the distribution of power among the various factions.
There were also the usual indoctrination lessons emphasizing absolute loyalty to Konoha and the Hokage.
Yakumo took his notes seriously.
After all, even these lessons might save his life someday.
Take the lesson analyzing different types of ninjutsu, for example.
If Asuma Sarutobi had paid closer attention in class, he might not have failed to recognize Hidan’s Curse Technique: Death Controlling Possessed Blood in the future—a forbidden ritual technique used for cursing and killing opponents.
Thinking about this, Yakumo began paying even closer attention to the lecture.
He also sneaked a few glances at Asuma Sarutobi, who was whispering to Kurenai Yuhi.
Hidan, you did a great job.
To Yakumo’s surprise, on the very first day of the Academy term, their homeroom teacher, Keisuke Shimizu, arranged an in-class assessment involving one-on-one combat between students.
The rules were simple:
No weapons were allowed.
Being knocked down counted as a defeat.
And surrendering without fighting was strictly forbidden!
At least, that was how Keisuke Shimizu put it:
“Konohagakure’s shinobi have no need for cowards!”
Yakumo maintained as neutral an expression as possible while eating the lovingly prepared bento Mori Yasuko had made for him.
According to the original owner’s memories, losing both parents had caused him to become extremely withdrawn.
He had treated everyone with cold indifference ever since.
Yakumo headed to the training ground outside the classroom and examined the list of scheduled matchups posted on the wall.
Among the names were:
Kakashi Hatake versus Asuma SarutobiUchiha Hengyan versus Hyuga ShinkawaHyuga Masami versus Uchiha Asuka
Near the bottom of the list, Yakumo found his own name.
His opponent was Genta Koyamoto, another student from a civilian background.
Asuma Sarutobi usually acted like a carefree slacker.
But when he clashed with Kakashi Hatake, Yakumo finally understood what people meant by the advantages of a prestigious shinobi clan.
Both boys must have had Agility scores above seven.
Their Strength might have been somewhat lower, but certainly no less than five.
In other words, at his current level, both were insurmountable mountains that Yakumo couldn’t hope to overcome.
Asuma was certainly talented, but Kakashi Hatake was unquestionably the greater prodigy.
After only a dozen or so exchanges, Kakashi sent Asuma flying, slamming him hard into the ground.
The two then formed the Seal of Reconciliation.
Several more rounds of assessments followed one after another.
They opened Yakumo’s eyes to the world of shinobi combat and helped him understand the differences between the great clans and ordinary civilians.
Of course, much of that difference came down to physical ability.
“Next pair of students!”
“Genta Koyamoto and Iori Yakumo!”
“Good luck.
If things get too difficult, just surrender.
It’s okay to lose…
you’ve never been good at fighting, anyway.”
Mori Yasuko spoke softly.
“All right, I understand.”
According to the original owner’s memories, he really hadn’t been good at fighting.
It seemed he had no choice but to forfeit this match.
After all, changing one’s personality so drastically would take time.
“Form the Seal of Opposition.”
“Please go easy on me.”
The two exchanged glances, their eyes meeting in midair.
Genta Koyamoto had dark skin and looked physically stronger than Yakumo’s current body.
As soon as the fight began, Yakumo suddenly clenched his fist and swung toward Genta’s shoulder.
To his surprise, his opponent dodged with ease and immediately countered by driving his body toward Yakumo’s chest.
Yakumo threw a hurried punch, which missed as well, and the impact sent him stumbling off balance.
Genta seized the opportunity.
Taking advantage of Yakumo’s unstable footing, he exerted his strength and shoved him to the ground.
As Yakumo fell, however, he moved with lightning speed and grabbed Genta with his left hand.
As expected, he hasn’t successfully extracted any chakra yet.
Although the chakra cultivation manual had already been distributed, civilian students rarely managed to extract chakra overnight because they lacked anyone experienced enough to guide them.
That was one of the reasons Yakumo had chosen to conceal his abilities.
After all, during the entrance assessment two days earlier, there hadn’t been even a trace of chakra inside his body.
The spectators burst into laughter, clearly mocking how easily Yakumo had been defeated.
The outcome was exactly what he had intended.
The image of a civilian-born genius might sound appealing, but the most likely destinations for someone like that were Root or ANBU.
Neither option was acceptable to Yakumo.
After forming the Seal of Reconciliation with a suitably frustrated expression, he returned to the sidelines to watch the remaining matches.
There were still several pairs left to fight, and a few students performed even worse than Yakumo had.