Chapter 229: Kakashi Is Like a Proud Peacock
Konohagakure.
Two months after the academy doors first opened for the new semester, a sweeping reorganization tore through the student body. The objective was simple: forge the definitive Elite Class.
The academy hosted far more than just Kakashi's immediate peer group, but when the dust of the reshuffling finally settled, the heirs of Konoha's prominent ninja clans found themselves neatly consolidated into a single room. The Elite Class was essentially handpicked from this prestigious demographic.
Those with weaker foundations—the civilian children and orphans who dragged their feet in practical combat or stared blankly at their written exams—were swiftly filtered out into the Ordinary Class for a slower, more forgiving curriculum.
Even the proud Uchiha clan wasn't exempt from the purge; two of their own were demoted.
Naturally, Obito was not among the rejects. Though he carried the unfortunate moniker of 'dead last,' a six-year-old who had already awakened a single-tomoe Sharingan could hardly be classified as actual trash. He only looked incompetent because he was constantly measured against Kakashi's overwhelming shadow. Failing to beat the absolute best in the generation did not make one the worst.
To the shock of the entire student body, Stelle wasn't moved out either.
Operating under the unassuming alias of 'A-Mu,' she was a notoriously abysmal student. She couldn't hit a stationary wooden log with a shuriken to save her life, and she bothered to refine barely enough chakra to fill a teacup. Her absolute only saving grace was her flawless, perfect scores in theoretical knowledge.
Obito had spent the entire morning loudly protesting the reshuffle, crossing his arms and declaring he would refuse his Elite Class seat just to stay behind with her. The moment the instructor called out the name he had been desperately praying to hear, his rebellious shouting ceased instantly.
As Stelle followed Kakashi and the rest of the chosen few toward their new designated classroom, the demoted students glared daggers into her back. One of the ousted Uchiha children actually pointed a trembling finger at her, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Why does someone who can't even throw a basic shuriken get to go to the Elite Class?! I refuse to accept this!"
The students weren't the only ones harboring doubts. Instructor Senju Naoto scratched his head, thoroughly bewildered by the roster. A-Mu's theoretical knowledge was certainly unmatched, but her practical combat skills were practically non-existent. Could she genuinely survive the rigorous pacing of the Elite Class?
If nothing else, simply walking through the front door of their new classroom was going to be a monumental challenge for her.
But the principal had issued the final decree, and Naoto could only bite his tongue and follow orders.
The Elite Class was located in the secluded building at the very back of the academy grounds. To even reach the heavy wooden door, the students first had to survive a specialized Dodgeball Trap rigged throughout the narrow hallway—a brutal preliminary test designed to evaluate raw reaction speed.
Thirty high-velocity rubber balls. Five consecutive waves. In such a confined, suffocating space, slipping through untouched required genuine spatial awareness and agility.
To make matters worse, every single ball was heavily coated in fine white ash. If a student failed to dodge, the impact would leave a glaring, humiliating white circle stamped right onto their clothes. As the semester progressed and the students adapted, the sheer volume of projectiles would only increase.
Anyone who failed this entry exam would be forced to stand at the very back of the classroom for the entire duration of the day's lectures.
Principal Uchiha Kaito stood with his arms folded at the far end of the corridor, his sharp gaze sweeping over the fresh batch of elites as he calmly explained the rules of entry.
Kakashi stepped up first.
The moment Kaito yanked the heavy iron switch, hidden panels in the walls snapped open. A barrage of ash-coated spheres shot out into the corridor, whistling through the air straight toward the silver-haired boy.
Kakashi didn't even blink. His footwork was a masterclass in economy of motion. He ducked, pivoted, and wove through the chaotic crossfire with infuriating ease. When his sandals finally tapped against the floorboards just outside the classroom door, his dark clothes remained immaculate. Not a single speck of white ash marred his outfit.
A wave of applause broke out from the remaining students. Asuma Sarutobi's eye twitched as he noticed Kurenai staring at Kakashi's back, her crimson eyes practically sparkling with admiration.
Driven by a sudden spike of competitive jealousy, Asuma gritted his teeth and charged into the hallway second. Unfortunately for the young Sarutobi, he was a brawler, not an evasion-type assassin. His reaction speed was decidedly average. He stumbled out the other side panting heavily, his shoulders, arms, and shins completely covered in embarrassing white polka dots.
"You protected your vital spots well enough. Your instincts are decent," Uchiha Kaito offered, his tone perfectly neutral.
The rest of the class took their turns, filtering through the gauntlet one by one. Almost everyone took at least a few hits.
Obito fared the worst. Refusing to activate his Sharingan for a 'simple school test,' he flailed wildly through the corridor. He emerged looking like he had rolled through a flour mill, yelping loudly as the final ball bounced directly off the center of his forehead.
He rubbed his stinging brow, his usual clumsy aura on full display. But the moment Stelle stepped forward and quietly handed him a clean handkerchief, his pain vanished, replaced by a massive, foolish grin.
Within minutes, the entire roster had cleared the hallway. Stelle was the only one left standing at the starting line.
She stared blankly down the corridor, eyeing the hidden mechanisms in the walls. A deep, heavy sigh threatened to escape her lips. She had personally designed this exact trap during her previous alias to artificially inflate the difficulty for the academy's elites. Now, the boomerang of her own sadistic teaching methods had swung back through time to smack her right in the face.
Whatever. If she had to stand at the back of the class all day, so be it. She had lived through far worse indignities.
Just as she was debating whether to cover her head and simply sprint blindly through the bruising barrage, a figure stepped out from the classroom doorway.
Kakashi walked back to the edge of the trap, extending a gloved hand toward her.
"Come on. I'll take you through."
"Hey, Kakashi! Can you really handle that alone?!" Obito hollered from the safety of the classroom, planting his hands firmly on his hips. "Should I activate my Sharingan and come help you?!"
"You should probably count how many white marks are on your own face first," Kakashi shot back without missing a beat.
Even at this young age, the silver-haired boy exuded an aura of absolute reliability. He looked back at Stelle, his visible eye curving slightly.
"Follow my lead."
He grasped Stelle's wrist firmly and pulled her into the kill zone.
Uchiha Kaito's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the two of them step up. After a brief, calculating pause, he slammed the switch down.
The walls erupted. Rubber balls shot out from every conceivable angle, crisscrossing the narrow hallway in a deadly, unpredictable web.
Kakashi's movements were entirely devoid of wasted energy. His reactions were razor-sharp, his pulls and pushes on Stelle's wrist perfectly timed. He led her through the chaotic storm of projectiles in a fluid, almost rhythmic dance. It was as if he had memorized the exact trajectory and velocity of every single mechanism in the walls.
They slipped through the dense barrage, the ash-coated spheres missing them by mere inches.
Suddenly, a hidden launcher snapped open from a blind spot near the ceiling. A ball plummeted down at a vicious, tricky angle, aiming directly for the center of Stelle's back.
Without even turning his head, Kakashi's wrist snapped. He yanked Stelle forward with a sharp burst of strength. She stumbled, her shoulder bumping hard against his chest just as the ball whistled violently through the empty space where her head had been a fraction of a second prior.
"Jump!" he barked over the mechanical clatter.
They cleared the final wave, landing safely on the polished floorboards at the end of the hallway. Neither of them bore a single trace of white ash.
Kakashi released her wrist, casually stuffed both hands deep into his pockets, and strolled into the classroom with his chin held high.
He maintained his usual composed, expressionless facade, but Stelle could practically see the invisible feathers fanning out behind him. At this exact moment, Hatake Kakashi was strutting like a ridiculously proud peacock.
Still, she had to admit—he looked incredibly cool doing it.
"Kakashi, that was insane!" Shiranui Genma cheered, entirely abandoning his usual laid-back demeanor.
"He really is a monster. We were all scrambling just to survive it on our own, and he casually dragged A-Mu through a two-person handicap without taking a single hit," Aoba Yamashiro muttered, adjusting his dark glasses in awe.
Watching the display, Asuma let out a boisterous, overcompensating laugh. "Hey, Kurenai! Next time, I'll carry you through the trap too, alright? I swear on my life I won't let a single ball touch you!"
Kurenai didn't say a word. She slowly looked at the dozen white circles stamped across Asuma's clothes, then glanced down at the three minor marks on her own sleeves. She simply shook her head and sighed, making a mental note to double her evasion training.
"Over here! A-Mu, you don't have to stand up today! I saved you a spot!"
Obito waved frantically from the back of the room. He had claimed the absolute best real estate in the entire classroom: the desk tucked into the far back corner, right next to the window, completely out of the instructor's direct line of sight. It was the holy grail of seating arrangements—perfect for sleeping, staring at the clouds, covertly eating snacks, and ignoring lectures entirely.
The Elite Class operated on an entirely different wavelength. Even the textbooks distributed to their desks were freshly printed, heavy tomes, and the teaching pace promised to be relentless.
Stelle flipped open her new textbook.
The entire first page was a massive, glowing summary of the Fourth Hokage's life, detailing her glorious military achievements, her revolutionary educational reforms, and a complete list of the legendary genius ninja produced by the very Elite Class she had personally founded.
Principal Uchiha Kaito took the podium. For the entire duration of the morning session, he did absolutely nothing but glaze the Fourth Hokage. He spoke of her with religious reverence—how she was untouchable in combat, a visionary leader, a flawless tactician, and the greatest, most glorious, most morally correct Hokage to ever grace the village.
Sitting in the back corner, Stelle slowly sank lower and lower into her chair. She raised the heavy textbook, desperately trying to hide her burning face behind the pages.
An overwhelming, suffocating wave of pure cringe threatened to crush her soul.
Who in their right mind spends three straight hours aggressively praising someone like this?!
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