Time passed rather quickly, I thought, standing in front of the classroom and watching the crowd gathered outside the room. It seemed like just recently I had learned about the date of the Chūnin exam, and now I was already standing here, among dozens of young—and not so young—ninjas.
— Quite a few familiar faces, — I muttered to myself, letting my gaze wander across them. Asuma, Kurenai, Ebisu… and finally, once again, Obito appeared before me. Beside him—his eternal pain and inspiration, his unrequited love—Rin Nohara. A little further away stood Kakashi, his gaze hidden behind a mask of indifference…
Everyone was waiting to be let inside. The air felt heavy with tension. My team and I sat a little apart, observing how the crowd gradually turned into a chaotic mass of impatience and nervousness. Some shifted nervously from foot to foot, some stroked a kunai hidden in a sheath to calm themselves, and others just stared silently at a single point, trying to drive away unnecessary thoughts.
The exam was about to begin, and I found myself thinking, almost involuntarily, that I was looking at this improvised zoo with unexpected interest. "Future rivals," I repeated, as if trying to get used to the thought. There were already nearly a hundred of us. Ages ranged from very young Academy graduates to experienced genin who seemed capable of teaching themselves. It was hard to determine the exact age of some—chakra users' bodies could do strange things. Some looked older than they were, others younger.
Take Ibiki, for example. On paper, he was only a couple of years older than me, but nearly 1.7 meters tall, broad-shouldered, with a stern gaze, as if he had already fought dozens of battles. A ninja's body develops differently.
Finally, the doors creaked open. The murmur of voices died down, and the tension became almost tangible. As one, everyone stepped forward as if on command and poured into the room. There, at the very front by the board, stood five chūnin. One stepped forward, introduced himself, and briefly but clearly explained how the exam would proceed.
— Your task is simple, — he said in a cold voice. — Achieve a minimum of seventy percent out of a possible hundred points.
The chūnin placed chairs in the corners to observe us, like overseers watching prisoners. We were seated one per table, spaced apart to prevent any attempt at cheating. No gestures, notes, whispers. The exam sheets were handed out simultaneously.
But at that moment, I was interested in something else entirely: I found myself sitting just one chair away from Rin Nohara. I felt my heart quicken slightly. Meeting familiar anime characters up close was thrilling. There was still time, so now…
— Hi, — I said quietly, leaning slightly toward her so she could hear me.
She turned to me, a flicker of mild surprise in her eyes, then warmth. Her smile was genuine, soft, tinged with slight confusion, as if she hadn't expected anyone to speak.
— Hi. You…? — she asked softly, as if afraid to break the silence, yet loud enough for me to catch every word.
— Kotetsu… — I began, cautiously saying my name.
She nodded, acknowledging it, and continued with a smile:
— Rin Nohara. Nice to meet you.
We both smiled faintly at each other, and in that brief exchange there was something almost awkwardly pleasant, a momentary distraction from the tension of the exam.
I noticed Obito, sitting slightly behind, staring at me as if he could ignite me with Amaterasu if he could. Still, I decided to chat a little with Rin—not to impress her, but just to see his reaction. It was simply too amusing.
She really was beautiful—soft features, attentive eyes. But, I thought with a slight smirk, not enough to destroy the world for her, as Obito probably would. Though, we all know where a broken heart can lead a person…
At that moment, the exam began. Sheets with questions—mostly theoretical, but not simple—were placed on the tables. They covered everything: combat tactics, team strategies, medical and anatomical knowledge, the structure of the shinobi world, even political questions. But this was only the first part.
I took a pencil, and the silence of the room filled everything around. The first question asked how to act if the team leader gave an order that contradicted common sense but aligned with the mission. "Follow the order or act on your own?" — essentially, that was the choice. And it wasn't just a question—it was a test of character.
I glanced at Rin. She was already writing confidently. Kakashi, sitting in another corner, was like a statue—no unnecessary movements. And Obito… he bit the end of his pencil, frowning, clearly struggling with inner doubts.
Time passed. Every second seemed to stretch and simultaneously accelerate. The questions grew more complex, and the remaining time dwindled. The sheet in front of me gradually filled with my answers, but each new task required more focus, more effort than the previous one. I felt the tension slowly mounting, like an invisible weight pressing on my shoulders.
Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out across the room:
— Out!
Every head turned toward the source. One of the guys, sitting a few tables away from me, quickly stood up, looking frightened at the chūnin approaching him with a decisive expression.
— What… I didn't… — he began, desperately trying to explain.
— I gave you three chances, — the chūnin said coldly and firmly, escorting him out.
I couldn't help but linger on this moment, watching as two more of his teammates were escorted out. "Even if this isn't the large-scale Chūnin exam like in the anime, they still kick people out for cheating," I thought, feeling a mix of tension and curiosity. This was a strict test of honesty, even in miniature.
I myself didn't cheat—or help anyone else cheat. More than that, by my actions, I could unintentionally cause someone else to fail. This fact brought both pride and slight irritation. Another psychological question lay before me, and I tried to focus, keeping my thoughts from wandering.
— I hate them, honestly… — I muttered to myself, watching Kakashi leave the room…
A thought flashed through my mind like lightning: I had to act, time wasn't waiting.
What should I write… — crossed my mind.
I grabbed a pen and jotted down the easiest answer I could think of:
— "I will trust the head of my village!" — I muttered quietly, almost testing the words aloud.
I carefully placed the sheet on the table, making sure the writing was legible. My heart calmed slightly.
The first step was taken… now it was time to move forward.
I stood, gathered my things, and headed toward the classroom exit.