After two opponents had already fallen, the third student from the first-year group stepped forward. To no one's surprise, it was another girl.
Although most shinobi were men, kunoichi still accounted for a significant share of the ninja world. Many were often guided toward medical ninjutsu, but those who sought front-line combat had to push themselves even harder.
This particular first-year was no exception. Barely five years old, she carried herself with a seriousness that didn't match her age. Her dark eyes studied Uchiha Hayashi with a sharp, almost suspicious vigilance, as if expecting him to play some hidden trick.
Her hair was tied in the distinct braid favored by the Nara clan. Hayashi immediately thought of Nara Shikaku. He knew Shikaku well—lazy, constantly complaining that everything was troublesome, often skipping class to nap on the Academy roof.
But the girl before him was nothing like that. Despite the family resemblance in her appearance, her eyes burned with focus and determination that could never be faked.
Confirmed the look, Hayashi thought. She's a different kind of Nara.
"Nara Akimichi, please show mercy, senpai," she said respectfully.
Hayashi blinked. Both of her teammates had said the same thing earlier. It was becoming almost embarrassing. Of course, he had gone easy on them—none of his opponents had been hurt, only knocked out instantly.
Still, her seriousness tugged at his attention.
Nara Akimichi pulled a kunai from the pouch on her thigh, crouched slightly, and fixed her gaze on Hayashi.
"Hm?" Hayashi raised a brow, then formed the hand seal for genjutsu as naturally as breathing.
…And nothing happened.
His genjutsu had failed.
Impossible, he thought. My sound-based genjutsu should have caught her instantly. Unless…
Then he noticed the faint white stuffing in her ears. Cotton. Earplugs.
Clever girl. She must have learned by observing my fight with Minato earlier.
With a sharp cry, she charged forward, closing the distance with surprising speed for her size. Her small frame twisted, fist lashing out in a punch aimed at his chest.
Hayashi sighed. "I've been underestimated."
Genjutsu was considered the hardest discipline to defend against, yet they thought earplugs alone would save them? Naïve.
He slipped aside with a graceful sidestep, easily dodging her punch. The girl followed with a spinning kick, but he bent just out of range, his movements smooth and unhurried.
A kunai flashed into Hayashi's hand. Steel clashed as her weapon met his, the shrill sound of friction echoing across the stage.
And then, as though carried by the wind, a single white feather drifted down.
"Genjutsu: Temple of Nirvana," Hayashi murmured.
Nara Akimichi's eyes widened, then grew heavy. Her body slumped as she collapsed to the ground, fast asleep, kunai still clutched loosely in her hand.
"When did he even form the hand seal?" Minato whispered from below the stage, frowning. "His hands were full… I didn't see it at all."
Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed with interest. "Single-handed seals. Very impressive."
Indeed, Hayashi's mastery of genjutsu at his age was nothing short of extraordinary. He had studied tirelessly, practicing until he could weave illusions with one hand, no wasted motion, no gaps in flow. His sound-based illusions, when blocked, could shift seamlessly to sight-based ones. Against Academy-level opponents, it was an overwhelming advantage.
As Hayashi walked calmly off the platform, the young Nara girl lay asleep, breathing evenly.
"Troublesome," muttered a voice from the crowd.
Nara Shikaku sighed, dragging himself to his feet. Reluctantly, he trudged toward the stage to retrieve his clanmate. "Guess I've got to carry another one home… She's heavy. Maybe I'll ask Choji to help later."
Somewhere in a classroom far away, young Akimichi Choji shivered mid-bite, his chips suddenly less enjoyable.
With that, Hayashi had defeated three first-years in a row, not a single one injured, every battle ended by genjutsu alone.
"Not bad at all," Tsunade muttered from the platform, her irritation momentarily replaced by surprise. "This kid saved us a lot of effort. Are juniors these days really so talented?"
Orochimaru smirked. "Strange. Weren't you just calling him a brat earlier? Now he's suddenly your excellent junior?"
"Hmph. Don't bring up that idiot Jiraiya. And don't pretend you're here out of noble duty. You didn't even want to come at first."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed. "I came not only because the Hokage requested it, but also to evaluate talent. The village looks peaceful, but beneath the surface, dangers grow. Unlike you, I take this seriously."
"Yeah, yeah," Tsunade yawned, waving a hand dismissively. "Keep telling yourself that. You say you're scouting for talent, but really, you're just a creep."
"…That's Jiraiya, not me," Orochimaru replied coolly, deciding she wasn't worth further energy.
He stepped forward again, his voice cutting across the murmuring crowd. "The matches between the first and second years are finished. Next, the third-years will face the fourth-years. Teams, prepare yourselves."
From Hayashi's perspective, the Academy's true strength still lay mostly with his second year, along with the fifth and sixth. The fathers of Konoha's future Twelve were mostly around his grade. Fugaku Uchiha, another of their clan's geniuses, had already graduated.
The most renowned student now was a fifth-year from the Hyūga clan. Even at her age, she carried herself with confidence. And of course, the twins, Hiashi and Hizashi, had already completed their Academy years.
Among the third-years, most were average—except one. A boy from the Aburame clan: Aburame Shibi. Quiet, composed, already commanding respect with his mastery of insects.
As expected, the third-years dominated their matches. The fourth-years were quickly swept aside, leaving Shibi and his peers victorious.
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