Some lessons were taught with books. Others were taught with blood—and Konoha preferred the second.
This was a time of war.
The academy's training wasn't shaped by comfort or patience—it was shaped by necessity. Konoha didn't nurture seedlings gently anymore. It forced them to grow, fast.
Survival of the fittest.
If you couldn't keep up, the battlefield would "teach" you.
It wasn't like decades later, when a twelve-year-old like Naruto could barely handle the Three Basic Techniques and still graduate.
In this era, even a dead-last student like Obito had already learned tree-walking and water-walking chakra control. He could use Fire Style. He'd graduate at nine and make chūnin by eleven.
The competition was ruthless.
Soon, the first round of the practical exam ended.
Adrian, Rin, Kurenai, and Shizune advanced to the second round. Obito had nearly made it too—if he hadn't run into Adrian.
People mocked Obito for his poor Three Basic Techniques and his grades, calling him dead last, but his taijutsu wasn't bad. And the truth was, just his Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu alone was more than most of the class could handle.
"The second round begins now," the chūnin instructor announced. "First match: Asuma Sarutobi versus Hyūga Haruto."
Adrian watched with mild interest.
Asuma was the Third Hokage's son, but his talent was… average. Even in the original timeline, with Hiruzen's resources, Asuma only became a jōnin—and among jōnin, he wasn't particularly strong. Comparing him to Kakashi or Might Guy was a joke, and surpassing the Third Hokage was impossible.
Hyūga Haruto, on the other hand, was something else.
Adrian didn't know whether the boy would ever awaken something extraordinary in the future, but at nine years old, Kagami already had the Byakugan active and fought with Gentle Fist like a natural.
For most of the match, Kagami pressured Asuma hard—Byakugan vision and Gentle Fist were a terrible pairing for anyone who couldn't keep distance.
And then—
Kagami made a mistake.
A single opening.
And Asuma took it, winning the match.
Adrian blinked once.
Byakugan vision was nearly all-seeing—360 degrees, no blind spots. Branch family limitations might reduce that perfection slightly, but there was no world where someone like Asuma should've "found" an opening so cleanly.
And yet the result stood.
Asuma won.
Afterward, Asuma glanced at Adrian and lifted his chin in smug challenge—especially because Kurenai clearly liked Adrian, and Asuma clearly liked Kurenai.
Adrian kept his pleasant smile, but inside, his patience rolled its eyes.
Idiot. If you didn't have a good father, someone would've beaten you so badly your mother wouldn't recognize you.
He couldn't help it.
It really was different for those born into major clans.
Sometimes effort mattered less than lineage.
Asuma's little show meant nothing to Adrian, but Kurenai's reaction was immediate.
"Asuma Sarutobi—what was that supposed to mean?" she snapped, cheeks puffing in anger.
At this age, Kurenai was pure and straightforward. She didn't care about status or politics. If she liked someone, she liked them. If she disliked someone, she disliked them.
Asuma wilted instantly under her glare, then shot Adrian one last resentful look before returning to the line.
The instructor had watched everything—including Kagami's "opening."
As a loyal member of the Hokage's faction, he was very satisfied with Kagami's "restraint."
And because the instructor wanted Asuma—the Hokage's son—to have the spotlight, Adrian's existence annoyed him even more.
Then the instructor called out, voice flat:
"Next match: Adrian Voss versus Kurenai Yuhi."
Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly.
He remembered the bracket.
By order, his opponent should've been Shizune… or Yuanhai.
So why Kurenai?
Adrian's gaze flicked briefly to Asuma—then to the instructor.
He understood immediately.
Petty.
Kids were competitive. They cared about pride.
Putting Adrian against Kurenai was a simple move: whether Adrian won or lost, it would leave an emotional mark. It would complicate Kurenai's feelings. It would also give Asuma something to cling to.
Adrian felt a quiet disgust.
This is your level?
He wanted to forfeit. He almost always found a reason to avoid fighting girls. And even against boys, once he felt he'd secured a "safe" result, he would often take a loss on purpose.
Strong, not arrogant.
Willing to yield.
It was one of the reasons he stayed popular—and stayed low profile.
But before Adrian could speak, Kurenai turned to him. Her ruby-red eyes were bright, serious, and oddly sincere.
"Adrian," she said, voice soft but firm, "please don't refuse. I want to fight you. I want to see how big the gap really is."
Adrian looked at her for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"…Alright. Please go easy on me, Kurenai."
"Begin!" the instructor barked.
They formed the opposing hand sign, signaling the start.
Kurenai tightened her grip on a kunai and stared him down. "Adrian… I want you to use your real strength."
Adrian didn't want to crush her confidence.
But respecting an opponent meant not treating them like glass.
He nodded once. "Okay."
Kurenai had already seen Adrian counter Obito's shuriken and overwhelm his Fireball Jutsu. She knew throwing weapons at Adrian was pointless.
So she chose close combat.
She lunged.
"Taijutsu?" Adrian thought, calm enough to critique even while defending. That's risky. When there's a strength gap, meeting an enemy head-on isn't smart. You're a genjutsu type, Kurenai.
Kurenai came in without hesitation, kunai slashing toward Adrian's chest.
Clink!
Adrian drew his own kunai and caught the strike cleanly.
The rebound force traveled through the metal—and Kurenai's wrist.
Her grip nearly broke.
"Your strength is decent," Adrian said honestly. "But your speed is a little slow."
Kurenai's cheeks tightened, clearly annoyed by the evaluation. She attacked again.
And again.
Several exchanges later, her hand was numb, her arm aching, and her kunai felt like it weighed twice as much.
She backed off.
Even though Kurenai would eventually become a master of genjutsu, her taijutsu foundation was not weak. Her father, Shinku Yuhi, understood exactly how fragile genjutsu specialists could be on a battlefield. Unless you were some once-in-a-generation exception, your weakest area decided whether you lived or died.
So he trained her properly.
Kurenai shook out her stinging fingers, eyes sharpening as she recognized Adrian had been holding back.
"If you were serious," she admitted, voice steady, "I'd already be down."
Then she lifted her chin.
"But now, be careful. I'm going to use my strongest genjutsu."
Adrian simply nodded. "Alright."
This was her only real path to victory.
Weapons didn't work.
Taijutsu didn't work.
So it had to be illusion.
Her hands blurred.
"Ninja Art: Demonic Illusion—Tree Binding Death!"
A B-rank genjutsu.
In the future, Itachi would reflect it with a Sharingan like it was nothing—but for academy students, this technique was lethal. Even the chūnin instructor might not fully resist it if he got caught off guard.
To Adrian's senses, Kurenai's body warped and vanished like an erased drawing.
Then a massive tree erupted behind him in total silence.
Branches snapped out, wrapping around his limbs, binding him tightly until he couldn't move.
In the stands, the girls panicked.
"Why isn't Adrian moving?!"
"He's caught—genjutsu!"
Obito, still bruised from earlier humiliation, seized the moment like it was his own victory.
"Hahahaha! That's what you get! When I awaken the Sharingan, I'll make that bastard pay!"
He barely finished laughing before the girls destroyed him with glares and insults.
"Adrian would never lose to you!"
"As if you'll awaken anything, dead last!"
Even Rin looked annoyed, and Obito's confidence collapsed into outrage.
"Stop looking down on me! I will awaken the Sharingan!"
Shizune, among the crowd, stayed calm. She knew Adrian better than any of them.
On the field, Kurenai approached carefully, a small smile forming. She lifted her kunai toward Adrian's throat, preparing to declare victory—
—and Adrian's hand snapped out and seized her wrist.
Kurenai froze, eyes wide.
The Adrian in front of her wasn't blank or dazed.
He was smiling.
Calm.
Completely awake.
"Your genjutsu is very good," Adrian said gently. "But your follow-up was reckless."
He tightened his hold slightly—not to hurt her, only to make the point.
"After using genjutsu, you shouldn't walk up casually. Whether the target is truly caught or not, the safest choice is to disable them from a distance—explosive tags, thrown weapons, anything that removes their ability to act."
His tone softened.
"Even against me… you shouldn't lower your guard."
Then, lightly—
He tapped her forehead.
Kurenai's face turned red instantly.
Not just because he'd broken her technique.
Because the gesture felt… intimate.
The crowd reacted in an instant—girls buzzing, jealous, flustered, excited.
Asuma's face twisted with fury.
The instructor let out a long, resigned breath and declared, "Match over. Winner: Adrian Voss. Form the reconciliation sign."
Kurenai, still bright red, hurried back into the crowd without looking anyone in the eye.
The instructor stared at Adrian, frustrated and deeply confused.
Kurenai had used a B-rank genjutsu. If the instructor himself got caught, breaking free wouldn't be easy.
So how had Adrian done it?
The answer was simple.
Genjutsu worked by disrupting chakra in the brain and interfering with the five senses.
But when Adrian was caught, that strange "breath" he cultivated every day circulated through his body once—smoothing every disturbance, settling the chaos like water calming ripples.
The genjutsu unraveled.
And even without that… Adrian's mental strength was in a different league. If he truly refused to be caught, Kurenai's illusion wouldn't hold.
The exam continued.
Most non-clan students didn't make the second round. At this age, many didn't even know real jutsu yet, so the later matches weren't particularly exciting.
And truthfully, the victories didn't matter as much as people thought.
These exams existed to measure readiness.
To see who could be pushed onto the next stage.
Just as Adrian expected, even Obito—who lost to him early—still graduated.
Konoha wasn't waiting anymore.
With the Third Shinobi World War looming, the village was forcing this generation to mature early.
Graduate early.
Adapt early.
And prepare to bleed early.
Because that was the shinobi world.
And it didn't care how old you were.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
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