'Huff… good, made it in time…
Tch, this year I was so rushed I even had to run across rooftops. And judging by the looks of it, if I'd been even a minute or two later, I might not have had a chance to register at all.'
As Naruto immersed most of his consciousness into the seal, playfully bickering with Kurama, Uchiha Fugaku scanned the area. Having once accompanied Itachi through this very registration process and personally endured the whimsical nature of his alma mater, he quickly noticed something off about the crowd size at the registration site.
It didn't look like they were lining up to register. Instead, they were just… standing around awkwardly on the field?
'Don't tell me… the school's up to some nonsense again?'
Peering around, he noticed not only were there more applicants this year, but the teachers in charge weren't following the usual procedure of dividing the students into testing groups right away. It had only been about half an hour since official registration started, and already the number of people rivaled—if not surpassed—the peak attendance of previous years.
Clearly, the school had made some major changes to the exam format again.
Fugaku couldn't help but mutter to himself with a puzzled frown.
'I just hope… whatever this change is, it turns out to be good for Naruto and Sasuke… Please don't let it surpass the hell we went through in our generation.'
That's right—Fugaku was one of the infamous few who had endured what many still called the most brutal curriculum in the academy's history.
He had enrolled during a tense cold war period, when villages were secretly sending spies to sabotage each other. With the Hidden Leaf Village desperate to train elite shinobi to reinforce its forces, Fugaku's cohort—clueless and excited upon entry—ended up suffering dearly.
But that same hellish experience gave birth to a generation of unmatched strength. Those who managed to graduate in one go went on to achieve truly remarkable feats.
Take Minato Namikaze, for example. He had no family or background—just an ordinary orphan who shared a desk with Fugaku.
After graduation, Minato displayed extraordinary talent in creating and refining jutsu. With nothing but his own effort and skill, he dominated the battlefield and earned the awe-inspiring title "The Yellow Flash of the Leaf" from his enemies. Eventually, the villagers' admiration led him to ascend to the honored seat of Fourth Hokage.
It's thanks to that intense, almost impossible curriculum that the academy became known for its unrivaled educational quality—and it laid the unshakable foundation for that generation's future.
That's why people like Fugaku, who had endured the grueling years but also reaped the benefits, had such mixed feelings toward their alma mater—equal parts pride and resentment.
Now, seeing his school preparing to pull another stunt, Fugaku couldn't help but feel a storm of emotion brewing in his chest.
On the one hand, based on his experience and the changes he'd observed over the years, whenever the academy went off-script like this, the training quality shot up by at least two or three levels.
But that was also what worried him.
Because higher quality training usually meant a level of difficulty far beyond what the average child could handle. It often resulted in students falling behind, repeating years, or even dropping out altogether.
Of course, Naruto and Sasuke weren't just any kids—they had just returned from a year of special training under one of the Legendary Sannin, Jiraiya. Fugaku had little doubt they could handle whatever the academy threw at them.
What he was worried about was the intent behind this sudden boost in training.
In the entire history of the academy, there had only been two other instances of this happening.
One was during Fugaku and Minato's generation, which would later become the village's core strength.
The other was during the aftermath of the Third Great Ninja War, when a new wave of elite Jōnin—like Kakashi Hatake and Might Guy—rose to prominence.
In both cases, the upgraded curriculum came right before a crisis.
After graduation, the students weren't just asked to pass exams—they were sent straight to the frontlines to become part of historical events written in blood.
'Could it be… the village, having just recovered from its wounds, is once again on the brink of war…?'
From the academy's highly unusual actions, Fugaku sensed an ominous storm on the horizon. His brow furrowed deeper. Doubts filled his heart, and he began to reconsider everything.
Because if his suspicions were correct… then no matter what was coming, Naruto and Sasuke—this year's fresh enrollees—would be right in the thick of it.
And if anything happened to either of them…
That was something Fugaku could never accept.
'Maybe… maybe I should have them start school a little later…'
He tilted his head slightly, eyes moving between the contemplative Naruto and the curious Sasuke. His arms slowly folded tighter across his chest, his fists clenching in conflicted silence.
'They're not in any rush to enroll anyway. And with their strength, it's not like they need to hurry…'
Between two drastically different choices—registering now and risking the future for glory, or pulling back and giving them a chance at a peaceful life—Fugaku, now acting as their guardian, found himself leaning more and more toward the latter.
'...Yeah. That's the best option.'
One of them was his beloved son. The other, the last surviving bloodline of his dear friend.
Taking a deep breath, Fugaku made up his mind. He would take them home and forget about registration. He turned to speak to Naruto.
But of course—plans never survive contact with reality.
A shy, timid little girl suddenly appeared, utterly throwing everything off course.
"Na…"
"Um… uh… h-hi…"
'…I regret this. I regret everything!'
Note: Hidden exam rules have always existed at the academy, but they usually involve just one layer—meant to filter out excessive applicants.
What tipped Fugaku off this time was the inaction of the academy instructors—the unexpected sign that the second stage of the exam had already begun.