For a commoner shinobi, how far could one really rise?
Looking at legends like Orochimaru and Jiraiya, the answer became clear. Both hailed from humble origins yet rose to be counted among the legendary Sannin of Konoha. Another example stood before everyone now: Namikaze Minato.
Minato's parents had died when he was young. Neither of them were shinobi, and his first step into the Academy came by chance after passing an entrance test. Before then, Minato had no knowledge of ninjutsu, no clan heritage to guide him. He built his strength through relentless self-study and training.
As everyone knew, the Academy's official teachings were limited to the Three Basic Techniques—Transformation, Substitution, and Clone Jutsu—alongside theory lessons, basic taijutsu, shuriken handling, and physical conditioning. Advanced ninjutsu was rarely taught.
That naturally placed common-born students far below their peers from shinobi clans during their Academy years.
Yet, Minato was the one who shattered that expectation.
Within his class, only Uchiha Hayashi and Nawaki currently stood ahead of him. And now, standing across from him in the sparring match, was a boy from the Sarutobi clan.
Minato's right hand flicked, sending several shuriken at his opponent in sharp, unpredictable angles. At the same time, Minato dashed forward, throwing more projectiles mid-run.
"Bang!"
The Sarutobi's form burst into smoke, revealing a substitution log in mid-air.
But Minato didn't falter. He suddenly stopped mid-charge, spun, and drove a fist behind him—meeting the ambush head-on.
His punch whistled past the boy's cheek as the Sarutobi tilted his head to evade. Minato immediately capitalized, snapping a kunai from his grip and forcing his opponent backward.
The Sarutobi boy narrowed his eyes. He hadn't expected such pressure from a commoner-born shinobi.
"Huff…"
The clash reignited. The sound of kunai striking echoed as the two boys darted back and forth across the platform, neither yielding an inch.
Down below, Jiraiya watched with widened eyes. "This kid… not bad at all."
By the end, Minato limped from the stage battered and bloodied, but his opponent lay unconscious on the ground.
"Not bad, not bad. You're something special," Jiraiya praised, patting Minato on the shoulder. His tone held genuine approval.
"Go see Tsunade to patch yourself up. You can barely walk straight."
"Okay. Thank you, Jiraiya-sama."
The following matches passed without much excitement—until the fourth bout.
It was time for Uchiha Hayashi.
"Hayashi, do your best!" Mikoto cheered with a bright smile, fists clenched at her chest.
"I know."
Hayashi's easy grin spread across his face as he flicked the hem of his Uchiha-marked coat. The crowd erupted instantly.
"Hayashi, you're so handsome!"
"I love you, Hayashi!"
Shrill voices filled the arena.
Jiraiya frowned, his lips twitching. Tch, nowhere near the popularity I had back in the day…
Hayashi stepped onto the platform with casual grace. He raised his hand, snapped his fingers, and a feather appeared. His opponent froze the instant his eyes caught the falling plume, then collapsed onto the stage, snoring softly.
The crowd thundered with cheers.
Jiraiya's eyes widened. That was genjutsu… Feather Sleep. This kid's no joke.
Unlike the large-scale Nirvana Temple Technique, this was a single-target genjutsu. The longer the chakra input, the deeper the sleep. For an Academy second-year, it was more than enough.
Compared to Minato's hard-earned victory, Hayashi's triumph looked effortless.
"Hayashi, are you okay?" Mikoto hurried to his side, worry etched across her face.
"I'm fine, don't worry. That was nothing." He reached out and ruffled her hair.
Mikoto's blush deepened, drawing playful cheers from onlookers. Meanwhile, Jiraiya clutched his chest as if struck by an invisible kunai.
"Why… why?!" he wailed dramatically. "Even kids are showing affection, and I'm a full-fledged jōnin with no girlfriend! Why won't Tsunade accept me?!"
Hayashi smirked mischievously. His playful side emerged.
"Jiraiya-sama, Jiraiya-sama!" He waved the man closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Want to know how to win over Lady Tsunade?"
Jiraiya leaned in eagerly. "Tell me, quick!"
"Here's the trick," Hayashi said with mock seriousness. "Find her, grab her hand, push her against the wall, and kiss her. That's it."
Jiraiya's eyes bulged. "Won't she hit me!?"
"Are you really afraid of her?" Hayashi teased, tilting his head. "Honestly, you look like you are."
"Wrong! Absolutely wrong!" Jiraiya puffed his chest out. "Tsunade listens to me during missions. Ask Orochimaru if you don't believe it!"
"Then you've got nothing to fear," Hayashi said smoothly. "Take her first kiss. It's something she'll never forget. That'll change things between you."
Jiraiya nodded furiously. "Fine, I'll do it! If this works, kid, even if you don't make top three, I'll personally train you!"
Hayashi only grinned slyly.
"Hayashi, really… how can you talk about something like that?" Mikoto muttered, face crimson as she pushed him away and hurried onto the platform for her own match.
Meanwhile, Minato, freshly healed by Tsunade, rejoined them, bandages still taped across his cheeks.
"She said the band-aids would help attract girls," he explained sheepishly.
Hayashi rolled his eyes. Yeah right. She just didn't feel like healing the small stuff.
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