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Chapter 3 - 3- Ninja academy

The Academy was… functional.

Big, boring building. Grey and red walls. Generic layout. A few banners with the Fire Nation's symbol here and there to remind us we're part of something important, even if this felt like some pyramid scheme.

I got there early. Didn't want to deal with anyone on day one if I could help it. A chunin with a clipboard checked my name, handed me a classroom assignment, and pointed me toward a hallway with all the enthusiasm of a man who hated his job.

Class 1-A.

Figures. Guess I'm at least side character level, not mob level.

I stepped in.

The classroom was already half full. Not loud, but not quiet either. Some kids were laughing. Others were yawning. The clan brats had already picked their seats and grouped together like it was instinct. Senju, Uchiha, Sarutobi — all sitting like they owned the place.

I didn't bother with them. Not like I could afford picking on them now. Picked a seat two rows from the back, by the window. Neutral territory. Out of the spotlight, but close enough to observe.

Then I started to observe the class and noticed a few recognizable ones — the Sannin of the future.

Tsunade was obvious. Loud. Confident. She had that casual arrogance of someone who knew she'd be top of the class without trying. And with the fact of her being the granddaughter of the First Hokage and the heiress of the Senju clan, there were many trying to get close to her — making her the center of attention.

Jiraiya was already cracking jokes with some random Inuzuka kid. He laughed too loudly at his own punchlines. Definitely the kind of guy who'd fail a stealth mission before it even started. He was carefree, unafraid — the kind of guy who would end up bullied or dead if he didn't have the luck he had.

And Orochimaru… yeah, he was an edgelord.

Alone. Quiet. Hands on his desk, posture perfect. Eyes watching everyone, not saying a word. No family name to fall back on, no smug aura. Just stillness. Civilian, like me. But there was something sharp about him. Though I don't know if that's eyeliner or if his natural eyes are like that, but that snake sure looked a bit creepy.

I made a mental note. Try to get close to Tsunade and Orochimaru.

Class started without much ceremony.

Our instructor, Haneda-sensei, looked like he'd seen some things and didn't care to relive any of them. Scar on his chin. Tired eyes. Probably thought this gig was punishment duty — or was simply trying to act cool or intimidate us with this act.

We got the usual introduction speech: expectations, rules, year structure. Then, after an hour of pointless filler, we finally got to the first real topic — chakra.

Haneda stepped in front of the board and wrote two words in big kanji: "Chakra Extraction."

"Most of you already know what chakra is," he said, voice flat. "Physical energy from the body. Spiritual energy from the mind. Combine them, and you get chakra. In theory."

He looked around the room.

"In practice, most of you won't extract any today. And that's fine."

A few of the clan kids already looked bored. They'd probably done this years ago at home. I saw the Uchiha kid in the third row roll his eyes. Another one whispered something about already practicing elemental transformations. Flexing early, huh?

Still, Haneda didn't care.

"Those who have already extracted chakra, you can leave this class if you wish to. Those who haven't — you'll sit. Focus. Try to feel the energy moving inside. We're not looking for control or shaping yet — just awareness. If you feel something real, report it. Don't fake it. I'll know."

And many students left the class, including Tsunade. Almost no one from the major clans remained. And to the remaining twelve students, he gave a short nod.

"Start."

We sat cross-legged.

I closed my eyes, took a breath, and tried not to think too much.

This wasn't complicated. I already knew the theory. It was just about execution now.

Inhale.

Focus.

Feel.

At first, there was nothing. Just my breath and the sounds of kids fidgeting. Then, after a few minutes, I felt it — faint, but real. A slow, warm buzz in my gut. Like a gentle current flowing just beneath the skin.

Not overwhelming. Not flashy. But unmistakable.

'There you are.'

I kept my face blank, opened my eyes, and raised my hand.

Haneda looked over. "Yes?"

"I've extracted chakra."

A few heads turned.

Haneda's expression didn't change, but he walked over. "Stand."

I did.

He placed a hand lightly on my shoulder. Probably had some minor chakra sensing technique.

After a moment, he nodded. "Confirmed."

Then, surprisingly, he turned to the class.

"This student has successfully extracted chakra. First one of the day."

Some of the kids stared. A few raised eyebrows, looking doubtful.

Haneda kept going. "Name?"

"Inaba Shinkurou," I said simply.

He nodded again. "Well done. That puts you ahead of schedule. Sit down."

I sat.

A few minutes passed.

Still no one else.

Eventually, another hand went up. I turned my head slightly.

Orochimaru.

Haneda repeated the process. Confirmed it. Gave the same short praise.

That was it.

No one else raised their hand for the rest of the class.

So.

Out of a room filled with twelve students — full of civilians, or lower clan children — only two people managed to extract chakra on day one.

Me.

And Orochimaru.

We didn't talk. Didn't nod. Didn't smile.

But after class ended, as I packed my stuff and walked toward the door, I caught him glancing my way.

I met his eyes briefly.

Neutral. Measuring.

He gave a small nod. Not friendly. Not hostile. Just… acknowledgment, I guess.

I returned it.

Nothing more needed to be said.

The rest of the day was nothing worth mentioning. The clan kids who had left the class returned, and what followed was a boring lecture on Fire Country geography, a half-assed taijutsu theory class with zero practicals, and a lunch break I spent alone under a tree outside the building.

No dramatic rivals. No jealous glares. No fanfare.

Though, there were occasional stares from the students, it wasn't much — because it was just chakra extraction. Sure, I was the first in class, but actually, I was nineteenth. Eighteen students had already left the class, having done that before.

But I'd made one thing clear.

I wasn't just another civilian.

I was the most talented one amongst them.

 

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