Ninja Academy.
Uchiha Seiji scanned the test paper in front of him. A quick glance at the questions, and he smirked with confidence, twirling his pen like he owned the place.
This was the last subject of the finals—"Introduction and Summary of the Will of Fire."
Seiji leaned back, whispering slyly to the white-haired ghost only he could see."So, Tobirama… interested in taking the test yourself? Can't be that hard for the guy who invented half of this doctrine. Would be pretty embarrassing if the first principal of the Academy couldn't score full marks."
Tobirama snorted."Brat, don't look down on me. That monkey's version of the Will of Fire? He only knows it because I drilled it into him. You think some schoolkid essay question would stump me?"He narrowed his eyes. "If you want me to help you cheat, just say it outright."
Seiji raised a brow. This old man really rated himself way too highly.
The exam questions were as follows:
Briefly describe the deeds of the Third Hokage and share your personal opinion.
From your own background, discuss the differences between clan-born shinobi and commoner shinobi, and outline your future plans as a ninja.
"A ninja must obey rules, with mission completion as the top priority." Discuss the importance of discipline.
Explain your understanding of the Will of Fire.
Four long-answer questions. Sandaime, the Will of Fire, the thorny issue of clan vs. commoner shinobi, and the problem of discipline—something every greenhorn student lacked compared to full-fledged shinobi.
Seiji squinted. This test had bite. The framing, the intent—high-level stuff, not the kind of fluff those mediocre Academy instructors usually tossed out. Every question looked simple but poked at Konoha's most sensitive issues.
In the past, these exams would ask garbage like: "Who is the strongest Hokage? Explain why."What was that even supposed to test? It was basically propaganda to boost Hiruzen's approval ratings, but to any clan kid who grew up on bedtime stories about Hashirama and Madara leveling mountains? Yeah, good luck with that. Half the room would fail just out of spite.
Meanwhile, Tobirama was frowning. His sharp eyes mirrored Seiji's as he thought, Monkey, what are you doing? Making kids answer questions this deep? Even my brother would've failed half of these.
But Seiji didn't hesitate. After a short pause, his pen began scratching confidently across the page.
"Shhhk—shhhk—"
Tobirama smirked coldly."An Uchiha, writing an essay on the Will of Fire? That'll be the day. Even if this brat acts a little like me with his Water Style and swordplay, theory was never their strong suit. They were born for action, not reflection."
Yet as the lines on the page multiplied, his mocking smile faded. Slowly, Tobirama's expression hardened into something else entirely.
…Was this kid seriously nailing every answer?Whose student was he again? Because this felt way too familiar.
Then it clicked."Oh. He's Kagami's descendant. …Hmph. Makes sense. That was my student's student, after all."
On the final essay, Seiji closed with a flourish:"Wherever leaves dance, the fire will burn. The fire's light will shine on the village, and new leaves will always grow."
Borrowed straight from Sarutobi Hiruzen's dying words, repurposed as his own. But it struck Tobirama like a blade. He froze, uneasy.
The kid's delivery was too real. Too heartfelt. Did this brat actually… get it? Was he born with a talent for grasping the Will of Fire?
Seiji, meanwhile, was muttering to himself while checking his work."Autumn leaves fall, returning to the soil, becoming nourishment for the next spring's buds. The Will of Fire really does mirror the cycles of nature… profound stuff."
Tobirama found himself repeating the poem under his breath. The more he thought about it, the deeper it dug in. Damn brat. Not just clever, but actually poetic.
And then came the kicker.
For the "discipline" question, Seiji had written:"Discipline is vital for shinobi. To achieve peace, unnecessary emotions must be suppressed. The village should create strict, effective rules—and when everyone follows them, most conflicts can be avoided."
Tobirama's hand clenched.Those were almost word-for-word the same things he'd told Hashirama when they were kids, dreaming of ending the Warring States. Things he'd never shared with anyone else—not even his disciples.
And now, thirty years after his death, those exact words came out of the mouth of an Uchiha brat named Uchiha Seiji.
It was eerie. Familiar. Too familiar.
Water Style, swordsmanship, even his temperament… and now this.Tobirama realized something that none of his actual disciples had ever made him feel. A sense of likeness.A reflection of himself.
In the old days, this was the highest compliment one could give a student—the mark of a successor.
The system chimed:
[Target: Tobirama Senju – Special Talent Acquired: "Power of Tobirama"!]
Power of Tobirama – You can borrow strength from the soul of Tobirama within you. The amount depends on his willingness.
Seiji blinked at the notification."…What the hell kind of skill is this? Ghost Grandpa Mode?!"He groaned. "System, I'm Uchiha, not Senju. At least give me Indra, or Madara! Anyone but this guy! …Ugh, fine. Better than nothing, I guess."
Meanwhile, oblivious to Seiji's grumbling, Tobirama cleared his throat with a very performative cough."Ahem. Brat… not bad. Your answers were… acceptable."
Then he added smugly, "Of course, compared to me, you're still leagues away. Tell you what—find a way for me to take this exam too. I'll show you what a perfect paper looks like."
Seiji's lips twitched. Perfect Saturday, huh? Wúhū.