The day of the exam arrived faster than Shanks expected. The Academy was buzzing with excitement; students whispered nervously, some reviewing scrolls for the last time. Shanks, meanwhile, sat by the window, yawning.
'Study? Yeah, I forgot,' he admitted to himself, stretching lazily. 'Honestly, for a free spirit like me, it's already a miracle I'm even attending this place willingly. Expecting me to study regularly? That's just cruel.'
The written exam began. Sheets were passed around, the room went quiet. Minato, sitting one desk ahead, was already scribbling away confidently.
Shanks leaned back, hand on his chin, staring at the ceiling as if deep in thought. In truth, his Observation Haki was at work. His eyes remained calm, but within that silence, he could feel the faint rhythm of movement — the strokes of Minato's pen, the pace of his breathing, even the subtle pattern of his hand as he wrote each answer.
'That's right… left, long word… short pause… easy,' Shanks thought, moving his hand in near perfect sync. Copying Minato's answers wasn't difficult — the boy was sharp, a prodigy, someone who already had a reputation among the instructors. Shanks had spent the past month watching him.
'He's what this world calls a genius… knows everything before it's even taught. Might as well borrow some of that brilliance today.'
By the time the bell rang, Shanks had finished without breaking a sweat. Minato turned slightly and smiled.
"You looked pretty relaxed back there."
Shanks smirked. "I'm confident in my... observational skills."
Minato chuckled, not quite getting the hidden meaning.
The ninjutsu test came next. Students gathered around the training field, each tasked with demonstrating one of the three basic techniques — Clone, Transformation, or Substitution.
Being of the Sarutobi clan, even if Shanks didn't use their name, he was naturally expected to perform well. His uncle, the Hokage, had made sure he learned the essentials. Besides, he had received extra training from a certain gray-haired swordsman who had a sharp eye and an even sharper blade.
At first, Shanks had planned to help Minato train, thinking he might give the boy a few tips. That plan didn't last long. When he showed up the next day, Minato was flickering across the training field at blinding speed.
'Heh, prodigy indeed,' Shanks thought, watching him with amusement. 'And here I thought I'd be the mentor.'
Shanks took a week to master all three techniques flawlessly. So when his turn came, he breezed through the test effortlessly — perfect clone, seamless transformation, and substitution that fooled even the instructor.
The results were immediate.
"Full marks," the teacher announced.
A murmur rippled through the class. Shanks and Minato both scored perfect results.
'As expected,' Shanks thought smugly. 'Though I still think this exam is a little too easy.'
Then came the final test — the combat evaluation. Matches were called one by one. Excitement filled the air as students watched their classmates fight.
When Shanks' name was announced, his opponent was none other than the bully from before.
The boy froze when he first saw Shanks walk into the ring, memories of that day flashing in his mind — the invisible pressure that had pinned him down, the cold gaze that had made him tremble. But surrounded by his friends, his fear turned into arrogance.
"Hah, so you're my opponent? Don't think your cheap tricks will work this time!" the bully sneered.
Shanks sighed. 'Children.'
He stood still, arms crossed, not even taking a stance. The bully charged, throwing a punch straight at his face. Shanks didn't dodge. The hit landed — weak, clumsy.
'This again?'
With a flick of his finger, Shanks released a pulse of Conqueror's Haki. It was faint, invisible, but powerful enough. The bully's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed instantly, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The crowd went silent.
Whispers spread like wildfire. "What was that?" "He didn't even move!" "Did he use genjutsu?"
Minato, watching from the sidelines, smiled faintly. He knew his friend well. "He always acts so carefree, but he's hiding something... something big."
Next, Minato's match was called — against Fugaku Uchiha. The crowd buzzed with excitement. It was a duel between two of the most promising students in the class.
When the fight began, Fugaku showed the trademark confidence of his clan. His stance was sharp, his movements precise. He unleashed a flurry of shuriken followed by a fireball jutsu — the control behind it was impressive for someone his age, even without the Sharingan. The air crackled with heat.
But Minato moved like lightning. His agility was astonishing — each dodge seemed almost premeditated, as if he knew where the attacks would land before Fugaku even launched them.
'That's Observation Haki-level movement,' Shanks thought, leaning forward with genuine interest. 'No, not Haki… just incredible reaction time. This kid… is fast.'
Fugaku charged again, weaving hand seals rapidly, but Minato blurred out of sight. A heartbeat later, he appeared behind Fugaku and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Tag. You're it," he said calmly.
The teacher raised his hand. "Winner — Minato Namikaze!"
The crowd erupted in cheers. Even Fugaku, catching his breath, gave a short nod. "I lost. Fair and square."
Shanks smiled slightly. 'For an Uchiha, that's surprisingly humble.'
The matches continued through the afternoon. One fight after another — students clashing, showing off their limited skills, some impressive, most mediocre. Shanks yawned his way through most of it, chatting casually with Minato between rounds.
When the sun began to set and the final match of the day was announced, the atmosphere shifted.
"The last fight of the tournament — Shanks Sarutobi versus Minato Namikaze!"
The crowd exploded with excitement. Even the instructors leaned forward, curious.
Shanks stood up, cracking his neck and smiling lazily.
'Well, this should be fun.'
Minato met his gaze, eyes filled with quiet determination.
"I won't go easy on you, Shanks."
Shanks chuckled. "I'd be offended if you did."
They both stepped into the ring — the prodigy and the pirate.
The crowd fell silent, the air thick with anticipation.
And just like that… the true fight began.