The atmosphere around the Ninja Academy was buzzing with excitement. A large banner stretched above the main gate, reading: "Ninja Academy Opening Ceremony." Groups of five- and six-year-old children gathered at the entrance, their chatter filling the air.
It was easy to tell the clan children apart from the commoners. The commoner children huddled together, curious and nervous about everything. For them, becoming a shinobi was a path to rise above their station—a chance at respect, security, and a future beyond ordinary life. Most of them were war orphans who had never received any training. To these children, the dangers of the shinobi world were still just stories.
The harsh truth, however, was that after graduation, many of them would serve as expendable soldiers on the battlefield. Only a handful would ever rise to become legends like Jiraiya, Orochimaru, or the Fourth Hokage.
By contrast, the clan heirs stood scattered, usually sticking only to their closest friends. For them, this entrance exam was little more than a formality. Their futures were already guaranteed. Many had received basic taijutsu training, with some already possessing skills above the average child.
After a while, a stern-looking chunin wearing the Konoha forehead protector stepped forward. He began leading the group of children toward the training grounds.
The Ninja Academy accepted all eligible children, clan-born or commoner alike. However, not just anyone could enter. Even cannon fodder had to meet a certain standard.
The entrance exam was simple: run two hundred laps around the training field.
Though the number sounded harsh, it was not impossible in a world where chakra enhanced physical growth. By this age, most children already had the stamina to endure such a challenge.
For Hayashi, two hundred laps were nothing more than a warm-up.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, scattering across the faces of the eager children. Everyone was running for their own dreams, but for Hayashi, today's goal was simple—finish first.
What's the difference between second place and last place? Hayashi thought. Only victory shows true talent.
The moment the exam started, Hayashi sprinted forward, immediately claiming the lead. His sharp black eyes locked on a boy running beside him—a boy with light-brown hair and the Senju crest on his clothes.
Senju Nawaki.
Hayashi immediately recognized him. Though his face was still childish, Nawaki carried the same energy and presence as his legendary grandfather, the First Hokage.
To think I'd be in the same class as Nawaki…
Hayashi smirked. This was his chance.
As a child ostracized within the Uchiha clan, he had no intention of being placed under an Uchiha jonin after graduation. His path lay with the Hokage faction, like his father before him. That meant he needed to prove his worth early.
And what better way than to defeat the grandson of the First Hokage in front of everyone?
Nawaki wasn't an easy opponent. Even without inheriting the full might of Hashirama's Sage Body, his natural stamina and chakra reserves were monstrous. Moreover, he wasn't alone—he had the guidance of Tsunade, Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and even his grandmother Uzumaki Mito.
By comparison, Hayashi had no one. He trained alone, with no clan mentors to rely on. That was precisely why he had to shine brighter than anyone else.
The two boys ran neck-and-neck in the opening laps. Nawaki relied on his enormous chakra reserves to keep up, but soon, fatigue began to set in. Hayashi's refined taijutsu—already at a level beyond most children—allowed him to conserve energy and push forward with greater speed.
Slowly but surely, the gap widened. Nawaki grit his teeth, refusing to yield, but no matter how much he pushed himself, Hayashi only ran faster. The Uchiha boy's pace seemed untouchable.
The other clan heirs, unwilling to be humiliated by falling too far behind, began picking up their own pace. The entire field surged with effort, yet Hayashi continued to extend his lead.
For him, every stride was proof of his resolve. His speed was unmatched. His stamina held firm. His determination burned brighter than anyone else's.
Hayashi glanced back over his shoulder, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at the struggling faces behind him.
My foolish classmates… if you wish to catch up to me, then curse me, hate me, and keep running. One day, when you finally reach this speed, come find me again.
With that thought, he pushed forward, running as though he were born to leave the world behind.
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