Two years passed in the blink of an eye.
Today was the entrance examination for the Konoha Ninja Academy.
Tanya walked toward the Academy grounds with a blank expression, accompanied by Orochimaru and Tsunade.
Over those two years, she had gained a thorough understanding of Tsunade’s true personality.
The image of the dignified, world-famous medical ninja had long since shattered.
The reality was far more terrifying.
She drank heavily.
Gambled obsessively.
Lost almost every time.
Frequently borrowed money.
And whenever she ran out of money, she would shamelessly appear at Orochimaru’s residence to freeload.
In Tanya’s eyes, Tsunade violated nearly every principle expected of an Imperial officer.
Yet somehow, nobody could stop her.
Even Orochimaru had gradually given up trying.
The Sannin himself felt similarly troubled.
Two years ago, he had only intended to ask Tsunade for advice on raising a disciple.
Instead, Tsunade had practically moved into his daily life.
Even worse, Tanya had somehow become the one taking care of both of them.
The situation had completely escaped his control.
The consequences extended beyond simple inconvenience.
During those two years, Orochimaru had originally planned to deepen his cooperation with Danzo and continue researching Hashirama Senju’s cells.
However, Tsunade’s constant presence had created a serious problem.
As the greatest medical ninja in Konoha, her senses were exceptionally sharp.
More importantly, after Nawaki and Dan’s deaths, she had developed hemophobia.
She was extraordinarily sensitive to the scent of blood.
Even the slightest mistake during an experiment risked exposing everything.
At present, Orochimaru still retained hopes of eventually becoming Hokage.
Though not an obsession, it remained an ambition.
He had no intention of allowing forbidden experiments to destroy his reputation before he even had a chance.
As a result, much of his attention shifted toward conventional ninjutsu research.
Ironically, Tanya became the biggest beneficiary.
Over the past two years, Orochimaru had taught her a large number of C-rank and B-rank techniques.
With the assistance of the Nine-Five Jewel and her extraordinary talent, she mastered most of them almost immediately.
Her knowledge of ninjutsu already far exceeded that of ordinary Academy students.
As for A-rank and S-rank techniques, Konoha maintained strict regulations.
Even Orochimaru couldn’t casually pass them on.
The Academy entrance examination itself was straightforward.
The first section tested basic physical fitness.
Running.
Jumping.
Strength.
Endurance.
Nothing particularly difficult.
The second section tested basic ninjutsu aptitude.
Applicants merely needed to successfully perform a simple Academy-level technique such as the Transformation Technique, Clone Technique, or Substitution Technique.
The standards were intentionally low.
After all, this was an entrance examination, not a graduation exam.
Tanya completed both portions without difficulty.
“Why did I fail?!”
The voice was unmistakable.
Might Guy.
He stood before an examiner with his face flushed red.
A thick rope hung from his hands.
The rope had clearly been untied through brute force.
The examiner looked exhausted.
“I already explained it.”
“The test requires ninjutsu.”
“But I escaped!”
Guy stubbornly held up the rope.
“I successfully got free!”
The examiner rubbed his forehead.
His patience was visibly reaching its limit.
Nearby, Tanya sighed.
She had already expected this outcome.
About a year earlier, she had specifically asked Tsunade and Orochimaru about Guy’s condition.
The answer had been harsh.
Might Guy possessed chakra.
His chakra control wasn’t poor.
In fact, he could already use chakra effectively to enhance his physical abilities.
Yet for reasons nobody fully understood, he struggled immensely with conventional ninjutsu.
Even the simplest Academy techniques seemed almost impossible for him.
It was an absurd situation.
One that had puzzled Tanya for quite some time.
She walked forward.
Then gently patted Guy’s shoulder.
“Guy.”
He immediately turned toward her.
“Tanya!”
The frustration in his eyes was obvious.
“They failed me!”
“I know.”
Her voice remained calm.
“But the examiner isn’t wrong.”
Guy froze.
Tanya pointed toward the rope.
“The assessment requires ninjutsu.”
“You escaped through physical strength.”
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
Guy clenched his fists.
His expression darkened.
Even so, he didn’t argue.
Because deep down, he knew she was right.
Fortunately, Tanya wasn’t particularly worried.
She had already spoken with Orochimaru.
And Orochimaru had spoken with Hiruzen Sarutobi.
If necessary, Guy’s admission would be handled personally.
Allowing a taijutsu talent of this caliber to be excluded from the Academy simply because he couldn’t perform standard ninjutsu would be ridiculous.
From Tanya’s perspective, Guy was an invaluable future asset.
A specialist capable of accomplishing things that ordinary shinobi couldn’t.
Nearby, Tsunade lazily cracked her knuckles.
“Hmph.”
“If that old man refuses, I’ll go talk to him myself.”
Her smile looked slightly dangerous.
Several nearby examiners instinctively looked away.
Nobody particularly wanted to imagine Tsunade “talking” to the Hokage.
Guy lowered his head.
Then slowly clenched his fists.
Determination gradually returned to his eyes.
“Tanya.”
His voice became firm.
“I won’t give up.”
“I’ll prove that my efforts weren’t meaningless.”
Tanya nodded.
That answer sounded much more like the Guy she knew.
The examiner secretly released a breath he had been holding.
Cold sweat covered his back.
He had already noticed who was observing from the nearby shade.
Orochimaru.
Tsunade.
And Sakumo Hatake.
Three figures whose reputations alone were enough to make ordinary shinobi nervous.
The pressure was overwhelming.
Fortunately, Tanya seemed intent on calming the situation rather than escalating it.
The examiner silently thanked every deity he could think of.
Then a new voice suddenly entered the conversation.
Cold.
Flat.
And utterly lacking in tact.
“Honestly.”
“Wanting to enter the Academy without being able to perform even basic ninjutsu is pretty ridiculous.”
Everyone turned.
A silver-haired boy stood several meters away.
His arms were folded across his chest.
His expression remained completely indifferent.
Hatake Kakashi.
Unlike most children his age, Kakashi had already demonstrated extraordinary talent.
His progress in ninjutsu bordered on absurd.
As a result, he genuinely struggled to understand Guy’s situation.
From his perspective, possessing chakra yet being unable to perform basic techniques simply made no sense.
His dark eyes remained fixed on Guy.
Without the slightest hint of malice.
Without the slightest hint of sympathy.
Merely stating what he believed to be an obvious fact.
And somehow, that made the words sting even more.