"Sigh… Tobirama, just look at what you wrote. You made the poor kid cry."
The whole class turned to stare at Inada Kojiro, whose wails echoed through the room.
The Will of Fire exam was tough to ace, sure. But failing it? That took real talent. As long as you didn't outright insult the Hokage, even a mediocre essay could scrape a passing grade.
Hell, even Obito's rebellious rant had earned him a sixty thanks to Hiruzen's leniency.
The only two to hit rock bottom—literal zeros—were Asuma Sarutobi and Inada Kojiro, a pair of tragic brothers-in-failure.
Tobirama's gut told him the truth, but his pride wouldn't let go. Impossible. Maybe my answers were too brilliant. The kid was just… overwhelmed by my genius, that's all.
Seiji shrugged, ambled over, and crouched beside Kojiro, murmuring words of comfort. At the same time, he snagged the exam paper—
—and nearly burst out laughing right in the poor boy's face.
Because staring back at him was a glorious, oversized ZERO, circled in thick red ink, punctuated with an explosive exclamation mark.
Beneath it? A scathing comment, longer than the one on Seiji's perfect paper:
"Arrogant and impatient. The Will of Fire isn't theory on paper. Learn how to be a ninja first."
Seiji cracked. His Uchiha bloodline technique kicked in—Uchiha Howl-Laugh—and he doubled over, laughing so hard he sounded like a pig choking. He forgot all about keeping his cool façade; mocking Tobirama was worth it.
The lofty tone of the remark, paired with the oddly tough exam questions, told Seiji everything he needed to know: from test design to grading, this had Hiruzen Sarutobi's fingerprints all over it.
Tobirama stared at the handwriting. His face reddened fast, steam practically threatening to whistle out the top of his skull.
He didn't need to analyze. He recognized the penmanship.
That damned monkey wrote this.
"Good… good… very good!" Tobirama muttered through clenched teeth. "You'd better pray I never get the chance, Hiruzen…"
The way he said it, fists twitching, was a mirror image of Hiruzen about to whip Asuma with a belt. Maybe this was the true meaning of "teacher–student inheritance."
Seiji grinned wide. "Let's see, what was it you said before? Something about your answers being too perfect? Or that if your score wasn't higher than mine, they'd have to replace your face on the Hokage Monument with mine?"
He tapped his chin mockingly. "Want me to keep going, or do you remember your own words, old man?"
"And hey—zero isn't nothing. That's like… the reverse of a perfect score. Call it an 'anti-100.'"
Tobirama's jaw worked furiously. If he weren't dead already, he'd have stormed into the Hokage's office with a belt in hand, ready to show Hiruzen exactly who the teacher was.
Brat! If I hadn't given my life holding the line back then, you wouldn't even be Hokage. And now you dare lecture me on the Will of Fire?
[Duel Target: Tobirama Senju – You gained Body Technique: Senju Monster Strength!]
Seiji chuckled. Fitting. Perfect skill drop for someone who clearly wants to smash his student's skull in.
"Relax, Tobirama. Hiruzen had no idea it was you. Your answers just… came off a little too blunt."
"Blunt?!" Tobirama thundered. "Those were piercing truths, words worth engraving in stone! And he dares score me like this?"
His voice dropped, dark and cold. "Monkey… you'd better govern this village flawlessly. Otherwise, pray you never stand before me again."
Seiji sighed. Honestly, Tobirama might just get that chance one day. If he wanted to use Seiji's body to discipline his so-called disciples, Seiji wouldn't mind lending it out for a while. Teacher thrashes unworthy student? Seiji would happily stand on the sidelines and cheer.
"Kid," Tobirama finally muttered, his anger simmering down, "help me out. Kojiro doesn't know the truth, and even if this were from a teacher, the remark was too harsh. Comfort him. That much is on me."
Seiji nodded. At least the old man had a conscience. Still, he didn't move. Instead, he jerked his chin expectantly.
Tobirama groaned. "…Fine. I'll teach you some ninjutsu. But don't misunderstand—it's casual instruction, nothing more. No teacher–student bond."
Seiji snorted. "Please. I'm a Konoha shinobi. You ever heard of a Konoha ninja apprenticing under some washed-up ghost who scored a big fat zero on the Will of Fire? You're full of yourself, Tobirama."
The Second Hokage froze. He didn't know what "full of yourself" meant, exactly, but the insult landed hard.
Seiji just spread his arms, smirking. What can you do about it? With a hearty laugh, he turned and strolled off.
"Seiji-kun, what do I do now?" Kojiro sobbed, grabbing his sleeve. "If I can't become a ninja, how will I make money? And if I can't make money, my dream will be crushed!"
Seiji blinked. "Dream?"
Kojiro's eyes overflowed. "My dream… is to inherit my grandfather's secret recipe for dango, and open a Three-Color Dango shop someday!"
The tears flowed harder. "Why… why did I write such a terrible exam?"
Seiji paused, surprised. So this crybaby is the future owner of the Three-Color Dango shop?
"…That's your dream, huh, Kojiro." Seiji glanced again at his atrocious exam. Yeah, this kid wasn't cut out for the ninja life.
"In that case… don't be a ninja."
Kojiro bawled even louder. If even Seiji said it, then it had to be true—he was doomed.
But Seiji clapped him on the shoulder. "Open your dango shop. The store next to Ichiraku Ramen is my family's property. You can use it rent-free until you're grown. We'll talk profit-sharing once you're up and running. Focus on making the best damn dango you can."
Kojiro froze. His tears stopped. His hands trembled. "R-really, Seiji-kun?"
In the back row, Asuma rubbed his sore backside, staring blankly at the scene. His mind was mush.