Konoha Ninja Academy, Transformation Technique class.
"Reiji Sakuhō." From the podium, Nakaryū Ōzora called his name while scanning the class roster.
"Here." Reiji answered lazily, then got up and walked to the front, standing before Ōzora.
He simply formed the Ram seal—thumbs aligned, left thumb on top.
"Poof!"
With a light puff, the white mist dispersed, revealing a figure that looked nearly identical to Nakaryū Ōzora.
Ōzora rubbed his chin thoughtfully and circled around Reiji.
"Other than being a bit short, not bad. Sixty points. Passing. Keep working on it."
"Poof!"
Another puff of smoke, and Reiji returned to his original form, then stepped down from the podium.
Before he could even sit back down, an annoyed voice came from beside him.
"Damn it, Reiji! We swore we'd fail together—why the hell are you getting sixties in every class?!"
Reiji didn't respond. He had his reasons, but Jiraiya wouldn't understand.
What was the point of competing in exams with a bunch of kids?
If failing didn't mean having to stay behind for remedial lessons, Reiji wouldn't even bother showing up for the tests.
As for why exactly sixty? Because sixty was perfect—it let him pass while avoiding unnecessary interactions and, more importantly, avoided extra classes.
The Transformation Technique was one of the simplest jutsu, one of the three basic ninja techniques. Beginners made obvious mistakes, but a skilled user could pull it off seamlessly.
For a proper infiltrator, this jutsu was even more valuable than raw combat strength.
And Reiji had mastered it.
The assessments continued, and soon it was Ryōta Uchiha's turn—the boy seated in front of Reiji.
"Perfect Transformation Technique, 100 points!"
Reiji smirked slightly from his seat.
These Academy exams really were a joke. Ryōta's technique had at least seven small flaws, yet Ōzora still gave him a perfect score. If it had been Mizukuma grading, the kid would've failed on the spot.
Konoha's strength came from its absurd arsenal of Kekkei Genkai and forbidden jutsu.
The Sharingan and Byakugan alone were enough to make other villages drool.
Throw in the Multiple Shadow Clone Technique, Flying Thunder God, Eight Inner Gates, Dead Demon Consuming Seal, and Spirit Transformation Technique, and the gap between their Jōnin and everyone else was like staring into an abyss.
And that's not even counting the freakishly strong Genin Konoha produced.
Ryōta returned to his seat under a wave of astonished gazes.
"Reiji Sakuhō, how many points did you get?"
Ryōta sneered, then answered his own question mockingly.
"Oh, that's right! You only got sixty. Talk about lucky! Just barely passed. Let's hope you stay that lucky."
Reiji rolled his eyes and said nothing, refusing to take the bait.
But Jiraiya wasn't having it. He slammed the desk with a thud and shouted.
"What's the big deal? So you got a perfect score! Reiji gets sixty every time! Can you say the same about getting a hundred?"
Reiji immediately covered his face.
Seriously? What kind of logic was that?! What's so impressive about always scoring sixty? Are you praising me or roasting me?
Ryōta scoffed.
"Heh, you two really are a perfect match—one a constant failure, the other just stupid lucky. What a pair."
"Ahh..." Reiji sighed, lifting his gaze to Ryōta, eyes full of exasperation.
I wasn't planning to mess with you... but you just had to open your mouth. Why make trouble for yourself? Wouldn't it be better to just live quietly?
"Got a clean pair of pants this time?" Reiji said coldly.
Ryōta's face turned bright red. The memory of wetting himself from fear last time came flooding back. A wave of shame hit him like a punch to the gut.
Laughter erupted across the classroom.
After that incident, Ryōta had taken an entire week off just to let things blow over.
And now Reiji had brought it up again, ripping the scab off and pouring salt straight into the wound.
"You bastard! So what if you're strong?! How dare you mock me, an Uchiha!"
Ryōta screamed, eyes burning with rage.
On the podium, Nakaryū Ōzora pressed his temples, sighing heavily. This class had to be the most exhausting one he'd ever taught.
An arrogant Uchiha. A chaos-loving Jiraiya. A stubborn-as-hell Reiji Sakuhō.
These three were a recipe for nonstop trouble.
The last incident still hadn't blown over—the playground was still under repair—and now Ryōta was back and already stirring things up again?
Just then, Reiji raised his hand with a look of pure innocence and pointed at Ryōta Uchiha.
"Ōzora-sensei, this guy's affecting my studies. Can I beat him up?"
The whole class immediately shrank back in their seats, each of them recalling the time Reiji smashed a hole in the playground with a single kick.
"No!" Nakaryū Ōzora blurted out instinctively, rushing like a gust of wind between Reiji and Ryōta Uchiha.
Ryōta's legs went weak as he stumbled back in fear.
Even though Reiji had phrased it as a question, the threat in his eyes was unmistakable.
"D-Don't come any closer! If you lay a hand on me, the Uchiha Clan will make you wish you were dead!"
Ryōta tried to sound fierce, but his voice cracked with panic.
Hearing that, several classmates frowned. They were all part of Konoha—saying something like that was going too far. What, did he think this was still the Warring States period?
Even Ōzora, still standing between them, shot Ryōta a disapproving glare.
Kids from major clans always had the edge in ninjutsu and taijutsu, but their personalities... those were deeply shaped by their families.
Some didn't even show a hint of the Will of Fire in their eyes.
Reiji narrowed his eyes, noting how the class reacted—and a wicked grin tugged at his lips.
Perfect. If I could bring about the Uchiha Clan's downfall early, that'd be incredible. Who knows? Maybe I could even snag a pair of Sharingan~
Now, where would I put them? No way I'm swapping out my own eyes... Belly button? Or... butt?
Strip down, activate Amaterasu... then start bleeding out?
People would think my hemorrhoids popped!
Damn it, that image is too cursed to think about!
"Ahem." A light cough pulled Reiji out of his imagination.
"Uh, Tsunade, why don't you swap seats with Ryōta Uchiha?" Ōzora said in a gentle, coaxing tone.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Reiji felt Jiraiya beside him perk up, eyes locked eagerly on the blonde girl with the high ponytail sitting in the middle of the room.
"Okay, Ōzora-sensei," came the crisp, high-pitched reply. Tsunade stood up and nodded.
She quickly gathered her books and left her seat.
Up front, Ryōta packed up his things while glaring cautiously at Reiji, watching his every move.
Suddenly, Reiji raised his right hand.
"Ah! Ōzora-sensei, he's gonna hit me!" Ryōta yelped, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor, kicking and scrambling like a panicked turtle.
"Oops, my bad. My head was itchy," Reiji said with a bright smile, scratching his head.
Ōzora's face darkened immediately. These kids were all a handful.
This time—for real—once I finish teaching this class, I'm applying to be a Jōnin. No more academy work. I'm done.
Ryōta realized he'd been played again and trembled with rage.
"You just wait!" he growled, hugging his books and stomping off without looking back.
Once it seemed like the situation had settled, Ōzora gave the class a half-hearted lecture about "getting along with your classmates" before heading back to the podium.
The moment the blonde girl sat down, Jiraiya leaned over to Reiji, grinning.
"Dude, that was the smoothest tattletale move I've ever seen. Seriously, it was satisfying as hell!"
Seeing him fumble for conversation, Reiji suddenly grinned.
"Jiraiya... don't tell me you like Tsunade?"
His voice was quiet, just loud enough for Jiraiya to hear.
"Wha—?! N-No way!" Jiraiya stammered, flailing his arms and shaking his head violently.
He hadn't graduated yet—his skin wasn't nearly thick enough to handle getting called out like that. Especially not when the girl was right there. Jiraiya was a mess.
Though he denied it again and again, Reiji had all the confirmation he needed just from the way Jiraiya's face turned redder than a monkey's butt.
Reiji honestly didn't get it—why did so many people in the original story fall for Tsunade?
Was Konan not adorable? Was Guren not attractive? Was Terumi not drop-dead gorgeous?
Konan was cute, made explosive tags, and was obedient—way better than some violent musclehead like Tsunade.
Guren had Crystal Release, could casually rake in money, had that little tsundere charm—way better than a spendthrift like Tsunade.
And Terumi? Don't even get him started—he needed to wipe his nosebleed just thinking about her!
All in all, Reiji didn't see the appeal. Tsunade might have a great figure, sure—but in real life? Violent and wasteful? Straight-up terrifying.
Of course, what Reiji didn't realize was that the more you fear something... the more it finds you. But that's another story.
Watching Jiraiya squirm was too much fun. Reiji burst out laughing.
"Jiraiya, get ready to treat me. Otherwise, I'm telling the whole village about your crush on Tsunade."
Instantly flustered, Jiraiya lunged and grabbed Reiji by the neck.
"Don't say that! I don't like that flat-chested, super ironing-board princess!"
"Heh, not my problem. If you don't pay up, I'm spreading the word."
Seeing that Reiji had no shame at all, Jiraiya finally caved.
He dug into his pockets—just two coins, barely 200 ryo.
After a long pause, he braced himself. "What do you want to eat?"
Reiji gave a mysterious smile and raised one finger.
"One skewer of takoyaki is the only way to shut me up."
Hearing that, Jiraiya let out a massive sigh of relief. Takoyaki was a Konoha specialty—just ten ryo per skewer. Cheap and delicious.
"Deal."
"Deal."
Up front, Tsunade clenched her fists, trying her best to suppress her rage.
That bastard Jiraiya... calling me a flat-chested, super ironing-board princess?! He's dead next time we spar!
And Reiji Sakuhō—he's even worse! Blackmailing that idiot using me as leverage?!
And the worst part—he let him off with just one skewer of takoyaki!
You two bastards... just wait!