With Team Seven settled, Hiruzen's eyes moved to the remaining student files.
He'd planned these assignments carefully, balancing clan politics with individual potential. His fingers traced across the next grouping. "Yamanaka Ino, Nara Shikamaru, Akimichi Choji. The Ino-Shika-Cho formation." He nodded to himself. "Asuma will take them."
The next trio was equally obvious. "Hyūga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Aburame Shino. Tracking and reconnaissance specialists. They go to Kurenai Yuhi."
Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, smoke curling from his pipe. "Asuma, this is all I can do for you. Try not to disappoint me this time."
His thoughts drifted to his second son's perpetually stubborn attitude. Asuma would probably see right through the political maneuvering and throw a fit about being manipulated. The boy had never made things easy.
Then, unbidden, memories of his eldest son surfaced. Shinnosuke. Dead too young, too suddenly.
Pain lanced through Hiruzen's chest. One son lost to duty. Another who refused to cooperate. A grandson too young to understand the weight he'd inherit. And himself, growing older every day, struggling to hold everything together.
He shook his head and returned his attention to the documents before him.
In the Academy classroom, Iruka and Mizuki sat at the instructor's desk, reviewing the graduation assessment roster.
Mizuki's hand rested on the desk surface, fingers drumming an unconscious rhythm. Five years of rehabilitation had finally restored function to his shattered palm. Five years of pain, of exercises, of watching other instructors work while he recovered.
And he blamed two people for those five years: Iruka, for introducing him to Naruto. And Naruto, for turning his hand into gravel.
The hatred simmered beneath his pleasant instructor facade.
"Alright," Iruka called out, standing. "When I call your name, come forward for assessment."
He glanced at his list. "Akimichi Choji."
Choji stood, a bag of chips in one hand, and ambled to the open space before the podium. He continued eating, completely unbothered by the attention.
The assessment covered four basic skills: Transformation Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, Clone Jutsu, and kunai throwing.
"Whenever you're ready," Iruka said.
"Transformation!"
Choji formed the seal. Smoke burst around him, and when it cleared, a perfect copy of Iruka stood in his place. Not just the face, but the posture, the slight slouch, even the expression of mild concern Iruka always wore.
Iruka blinked. He remembered when Choji had first attempted this technique years ago. The result had been a grotesquely fat version of Iruka that had sent the entire class into hysterics.
The improvement was remarkable.
Substitution, Clone, and kunai throwing followed smoothly. Every technique executed properly.
"Well done." Iruka retrieved a Konoha forehead protector from the table and held it out. "Congratulations. You're officially a ninja of the Hidden Leaf."
This was the moment every Academy student dreamed of. The symbol of graduation, of entering the adult world of shinobi.
Choji carefully pocketed his chips and stepped forward. He accepted the forehead protector with both hands, treating it with uncharacteristic reverence. After tying it around his head, he turned to face his classmates, chest puffed with pride.
"Next. Uchiha Sasuke."
The Uchiha rose from his seat and walked forward with measured steps, expression neutral.
Three years of brutal training with Naruto had pushed Sasuke's abilities to extraordinary levels. He was approaching jonin-level chakra reserves at twelve years old. These basic Academy techniques were child's play.
"Go ahead," Iruka prompted.
"You've got this, Sasuke-kun!" Ino whispered, hands clasped together.
"Do your best!" Sakura added in an equally hushed voice.
Naruto simply watched calmly. He knew exactly what Sasuke was capable of. There was no doubt in his mind.
Sasuke completed the entire assessment in record time. Each technique was textbook perfect, executed with the kind of precision that came from natural talent honed by relentless practice.
Iruka couldn't help but smile. "Excellent work, Sasuke. You've always been a model student." He extended the forehead protector. "Congratulations."
Sasuke tied the metal plate across his forehead, the cloth pushing his long dark hair back. The effect was striking—he looked every inch the young prodigy everyone claimed he was.
"Uzumaki Naruto."
Iruka's expression remained professional, but his thoughts raced. Please, Naruto. Just get through this normally.
Naruto stood and walked to the front. At 1.8 meters tall, he practically towered over both instructors. His gaze was sharp, electric, and when it swept across Mizuki's face, the scarred instructor visibly tensed.
This kid, Mizuki thought, jaw clenching. Jealousy coiled in his gut like a snake. Look at him. Taller than Kakashi, more handsome than any Uchiha. That golden hair looks like he uses expensive imported products. And those eyes—like sapphires.
Mizuki's hand unconsciously curled into a fist. If I had those genetics, I wouldn't need any special techniques at all. Natural talent would carry me to the top.
His mind drifted to countless hours of grueling practice. Balancing coins on his tongue against a wall until his jaw went numb, training the muscle control needed for subtle genjutsu work. Years of effort that someone like Naruto would never need.
The unfairness burned.
"Naruto-kun!" Hinata's soft voice broke through the tension. She pressed her index fingers together, face flushed. "Do your best!"
"You've got this, Naruto!" Choji called.
"Don't mess up," Shikamaru added in his usual lazy drawl, though his eyes showed genuine support.
The other friends joined in with quiet encouragement.
Naruto turned and flashed them a confident grin, giving a casual thumbs up.
Iruka felt his chest tighten with emotion. He remembered the lonely boy who'd shared his dream over ramen five years ago. That same kid now stood surrounded by genuine friends—the entire class, even. And Iruka himself counted among them.
Pride warmed him. Then he remembered his outstanding debt to Ichiraku and winced.
"Alright, Naruto. Show us what you've got."
Naruto drew on the tiny reserves of chakra in his body. He'd refined just enough this morning to perform basic techniques. The Transformation, Substitution, and Clone Jutsu flowed smoothly, executed with casual ease.
Then came kunai throwing.
Naruto drew the weapon, aimed at the target board, and threw.
The kunai shot forward like a bullet. It missed the board entirely, punched clean through the wall behind it, and exited the building in an explosion of shattered wood and plaster.
Silence descended on the classroom.
A perfect, kunai-sized hole remained in the wall, dust drifting lazily through the sunlight streaming in from outside.
Iruka stared at the destruction, his face cycling through several emotions before settling on weary resignation. I'm going to have to pay for that repair. And I still owe Ichiraku thousands of ryō.
"Ahaha..." Naruto scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Iruka-sensei. I'll cover the repairs, don't worry."
Relief flooded through Iruka so powerfully he nearly sagged. "That... that would be appreciated, yes."
Behind them, Mizuki watched the hole in the wall with growing horror. His earlier thoughts of approaching Naruto, of maybe attempting to become his friend despite everything—those thoughts evaporated like morning mist.
I'm not harder than a wall, he thought, pale-faced. If his "accidental" kunai throw did that to solid wood, what would an intentional punch do to my face?
He decided friendship with Naruto Uzumaki was not worth the risk.
The assessments continued. Every student passed successfully.
When the last name had been called, Iruka addressed the class. "Everyone did excellent work today. You're all officially genin now." He paused, letting them absorb that. "Return this afternoon for team assignments. Don't be late."
Students began filing out, chattering excitedly.
Naruto caught up with his friends in the hallway, all of them discussing possibilities for their team placements. The energy was infectious, faces bright with anticipation.
Mizuki remained at the instructor's desk, watching them leave. His eyes tracked Naruto specifically.
Part of him still wanted to try. Wanted to bridge that gap, become one of Naruto's circle. After all, if getting beaten once earned you his friendship...
But then he remembered the wall. The perfect hole punched through solid wood by a "training accident."
No, Mizuki decided. Absolutely not. I value my remaining bones too much.
That afternoon, the classroom filled with newly minted genin, all buzzing with nervous excitement.
Iruka stood before them with his assignment list. "Alright, everyone. Team placements are as follows."
He cleared his throat. "Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura. You three are Team Seven."
"YES!" Sakura practically exploded from her seat, pumping both fists in the air. "Sasuke-kun and I are on the same team! This is the best day of my life!"
Across the room, Ino slumped dramatically over her desk, practically radiating despair.
"Hyūga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Aburame Shino. Team Eight."
Kiba grinned and gave Akamaru an enthusiastic scratch behind the ears. Shino adjusted his thin glasses with quiet satisfaction. Hinata's gaze drifted to Naruto, a small, wistful smile on her lips.
"Nara Shikamaru, Akimichi Choji, Yamanaka Ino. Team Ten."
"How troublesome," Shikamaru muttered, though he looked pleased.
Iruka continued through the remaining assignments until every student had been placed. "Congratulations again, everyone. You've taken your first real step as shinobi of the Hidden Leaf." His smile was genuine, warm. "Now head outside and find your jonin instructors. They're waiting for you."
Naruto and Sasuke exchanged glances, then stood simultaneously.
Sakura practically bounced after them, barely containing her excitement.
The three stepped outside into the afternoon sunshine. Leaning against one of the support pillars stood a tall ninja with gravity-defying silver hair. A black cloth mask covered the lower half of his face. His left eye was hidden beneath his hitai-ate, leaving only one dark eye visible. That eye was currently fixed on a small orange book held in his right hand.
He radiated an aura of profound laziness, like someone who'd rather be literally anywhere else.
When Naruto and his teammates approached, the silver-haired ninja's visible eye finally lifted from his book. For just a moment, something flickered in that dark gaze—recognition, maybe, or surprise. But it vanished so quickly it might have been imagined.
"Yo," he said, voice carrying the flat affect of someone perpetually bored. "Name's Hatake Kakashi. I'll be your Team Seven instructor from now on."
"Hello, Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura chirped, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
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