Konoha, Founding Year 32.
It was another sunny day in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, but recent skirmishes along the border had cast a shadow over the village. Despite the clear skies, a heavy tension lingered in the air, weighing on the hearts of its people.
The Two Great Stone Faces overlooked the whole village, bringing a sense of security to those worrying about the possible upcoming war.
Ninja Academy.
The only place where the possibility of war didn't seem to have affected was the ninja academy—children unaware of the terrors of war, living in their own little world without worry.
Class 1-A.
Students were divided into different classes based on their future potential and performance in the entrance exam. Class 1-A held all the elite kids with great potential, most of them from prestigious clans.
Currently, in the absence of their homeroom teacher, the class was in chaos. Children made noise as they pleased, with only a few sitting still and reading books—like the pale-skinned boy with long black hair and yellow snake-like eyes.
He appeared to be around six and sat in the front seat, eyes focused on a book before him that explained the time before the foundation of shinobi villages—when children even younger than them were forced to fight on battlefields.
"Hahaha! The moment that big snake laid eyes on me, he knew he was in trouble—lowering his head immediately to surrender before the great Jiraiya."
"....."
"And next..."
Another kid of similar age with white hair and two red shadows under his eyes was the biggest source of noise in the class, bragging about his strength to girls who didn't pay him any attention. But he was absurdly thick-skinned—not feeling embarrassed and continuing to speak.
There was also a blonde girl, admired by almost every other girl in the class. Most surrounded her, asking all sorts of questions—mostly revolving around her being the late First Hokage's daughter and the current Hokage's niece.
There were quite a few other eye-catching kids in the class as well—a boy with black hair tied into a ponytail lying on the desk, radiating immense lazy aura; a boy with a stern face and white eyes; and a few with fan emblems on the back of their attire, all of them wearing expressions as if someone owed them money.
Thud!
At that moment, the classroom door slid open and the noise ceased immediately. A man in a chunin jacket entered, holding a clipboard.
He looked quite young and tall, probably around 18, standing at 185 cm with sharp and handsome facial features. Fair-skinned, he had short black hair and black eyes. The Konoha headband was coiled around his upper left arm.
Under the green chunin jacket, he wore a plain blue shirt with matching trousers that had white stripes around the upper right thigh, shinobi sandals, and a black ninja pouch around his waist.
The young teacher had a gentle look on his face and a matching sunny smile, but deep in his black eyes hid some frustration and helplessness.
After the mandatory roll call, he began teaching about different hand signs and how each controlled the flow of chakra differently. Some listened attentively—others not, like Jiraiya who made paper balls and secretly aimed them at the group with the fan emblems. The ponytail kid was in deep sleep.
The teacher seemed used to such behavior and continued the lecture, but the frustrated look in his eyes revealed that something was weighing on his mind.
"Probably a few months at most and war will start. I really hope teachers aren't conscripted—otherwise, my carefully planned life might take a sharp and dangerous turn," thought Hojo Isamu.
The rumors of the upcoming war affected him—a traverser—a lot as well.
Eighteen years ago, Isamu found himself reborn from Earth into this shinobi world that used to be a comic he knew very well. He was lucky to be born during peaceful times—early years of Konoha's foundation—and a strong figure like Hashirama Senju, who had died a few years ago, was ruling the village, deterring most enemies.
Shortly after his birth, Isamu lost his mother, who couldn't survive postpartum complications. At age eight, his father died on a mission. But having a mature mind allowed him to live alone in the house he inherited.
Despite it being peaceful, Isamu never slacked off in his training. Knowing the future, he understood a cruel cycle of wars and killings would begin after Hashirama's death—and strength would be the only thing keeping him alive.
But in this world, where bloodlines meant everything, his ordinary background and lack of clan blood ensured he could never reach heights that would make him truly safe. He trained as much as he could but even so, in eighteen years he only reached strength a bit better than an ordinary chunin or equal to a special jonin.
Knowing he had reached his limit and further progress was near impossible, Isamu applied for a teaching job at the ninja school—steady pay and no dangerous missions. His plan was to teach at school, get a stable income, occasionally do safe missions to save money, marry a not-so-beautiful but not-so-ugly girl, have two kids, retire in his late thirties, and live a calm life.
But the recent war rumors, with all four Great Shinobi Villages testing Konoha by causing border chaos, showed the First Shinobi War might be far more intense than he expected. He overheard some staff saying that depending on the situation, even a few teachers might be sent to the front lines.
With these thoughts occupying his mind, Isamu went through most of his day's lectures and clocked out when the sun began to set. He bought some fish on the way back and, after a ten-minute walk, arrived at his house.
His house was near the village entrance, on the outskirts where land was cheaper. It was a two-story Japanese-style house with a small courtyard. Pushing open the door, Isamu stepped in, placing his shoes on the rack by the entrance.
After a quick shower and changing into comfortable home clothes—a black t-shirt and black shorts—Isamu grilled the fish and paired it with boiled rice and miso soup for a nutritious dinner.
Later, he walked to his room on the second floor—still staying in the same room even after his parents' deaths. The shinobi world, unlike Earth, had very few entertainment sources, and Isamu immersed himself in a recently popular novel: A story about a king from the Land of Snow and his daughter, who aimed to become the first-ever female ruler—conspiring even against her own father to do so.
It was well written. By the time Isamu finished it, three hours had passed and it was 11 PM. He put the book away, brushed his teeth, and went to bed—the lights off, room in darkness.
Unlike before, the moment Isamu laid down on the bed and closed his eyes, he felt as if his very brain was submerged into something cold, a numb feeling coming and going very quickly and he opened his eyes immediately.
"Huh….?"
But what came in his vision was not his familiar dark room but a beautiful blue sky and wind mixed with sand rustling by his nose. The sound of waves reaching his ears.
Read advanced chapters on my [email protected]/Snape777.