"Where the tree leaves dance, one shall find flames. The fire's shadow will illuminate the village, and once again, tree leaves shall bud anew!"
At the Hidden Leaf Ninja Academy, batch after batch—group after group—of new students listened to the speech delivered by the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. Many of the fresh faces were alight with expressions of adoration, even fanatical excitement.
Among the newcomers, Minato Namikaze wore a similar smile of excitement. After reigning in his emotions, he turned to Tatsuma beside him. "Tatsuma, do you think we'll be placed in the same class?"
Tatsuma shook his head. "How would I know? But if we perform well enough, we should be placed in an elite track. If that happens, we'll definitely be together."
"An elite track? Does such a thing exist?"
Minato blinked, puzzled. He hadn't heard anything about an "elite track," and the Hokage hadn't mentioned it either. Tatsuma simply shrugged and said nothing more.
Strictly speaking, there was no official "Elite Class" at the Academy. However, Tatsuma had already noticed that the children wearing clothes adorned with clan crests were all clustered in the seats closest to the Third Hokage.
Further out were more children with clan crests, along with those who were fully equipped with high-quality gear. The latter might not have come from prestigious clans, but their parents were likely active-duty shinobi.
The third "layer" consisted of civilians. Their clothes lacked crests and their gear was sparse, but their tools, pouches, and footwear were all brand new. Their families were clearly well-off.
Tatsuma and Minato… were on the absolute periphery. They were surrounded by children who looked sallow and thin, wearing faded or ill-fitting clothes. Their tool pouches were heavily worn—likely bought second-hand, just like Tatsuma's. Unsurprisingly, these were the orphans.
Despite being war orphans themselves, Tatsuma and Minato didn't look malnourished like the others. It wasn't because the village played favorites—the stipend for all war orphans was identical—it was because the two of them had a clear plan for every ryo they received each month.
Tatsuma had the benefit of two lifetimes of experience; he understood the importance of resource management. As for Minato… he was likely just naturally precocious.
Looking at this clearly stratified seating arrangement, Tatsuma couldn't help but suspect that class assignments were already being determined. Minato might innocently believe the teachers had assigned seats at random, but Tatsuma couldn't afford to be so naive.
"Alright, this way. We're moving on to your entrance testing."
Shortly after Hiruzen Sarutobi concluded his speech, several Konoha shinobi wearing Chunin flak jackets led the students toward the training field.
Tatsuma scanned the area. He saw rows of targets set up in the distance. Five meters away from the targets, a long table had been set up, laden with standard ninja tools: kunai, shuriken, and senbon.
Seeing this, Tatsuma instinctively looked at Minato. Minato met his gaze with a look of silent understanding and a grateful smile. Yesterday's "ambush training" had taught him the fundamentals of how to actually throw a weapon.
Though his skill level was still basic, he had memorized the form. He could hit the target now without worrying about lack of power or the blade flying off in the wrong direction.
Tatsuma smiled. "Good luck. With your talent and yesterday's practice, you should get a decent score. Why don't we see who does better?"
Faced with his friend's relentless competitive streak, Minato didn't feel the helplessness he had yesterday after being repeatedly crushed. Instead, he nodded decisively.
Last night, Minato had reflected on his day spent with Tatsuma. He realized that every time they made a "competition" of something, he felt more motivated. Having a clear goal pushed him to complete his training with much more energy.
Maybe… that's why he likes making bets so much! Minato thought.
"Pick the tool you prefer. You only need to throw five times at the target in front of you," a teacher said to the passing groups. "Don't feel pressured; it's just a simple diagnostic test."
After several groups had finished, it was finally Tatsuma and Minato's turn. The Academy teacher smiled at them, and Tatsuma responded with a polite bow.
"Could we trouble you to tell us our scores afterward? Thank you very much, sir."
Tatsuma didn't mind using honorifics, especially when he wanted something. The teacher was taken briefly aback, looking at these two children whose spirits seemed entirely different from the other war orphans, before nodding.
Tatsuma looked at Minato and smiled. Minato nodded back and reached for a kunai. Tatsuma didn't hesitate and did the same.
The teacher was surprised to see both boys reach for kunai. For five or six-year-old children, kunai were relatively heavy and large.
While adult shinobi found no difference in difficulty between throwing kunai, shuriken, or senbon, shuriken were objectively better for children. Kunai were often too heavy and senbon too light for a child's grip to stabilize.
Yet, the way these two held the kunai didn't look like they were just playing around. The teacher, who had previously expected nothing from the orphans, fixed his gaze on the targets to see how they would perform.
Thud-thud-thud!
Thud-thud-thud!
There was almost no pause for adjustment. Both Tatsuma and Minato threw their first weapon and immediately grabbed the next. All five kunai were released in a rapid-fire sequence, and all ten weapons—five from each boy—slammed into the targets five meters away.
A five-meter distance was negligible for a shinobi—no ninja would waste time practicing at such a short range. But for an un-enrolled child, simply hitting the board was an achievement. However…
The teacher blinked, looking at the targets again, then stared at the boys in astonishment. "Have you practiced before?"
"We usually go to the training grounds to learn," Tatsuma answered with a smile.
The teacher nodded, impressed. "Very good. It seems you're both cut out to be ninja. You got a 50, and your friend got a 45. Give me your admission letters. Sakamoto Tatsuma… Namikaze Minato…"
The teacher made a few marks on their papers and handed them back. "Alright, head over there for the next part of the test."
The teacher recorded their scores. As for the rest of their group… he hadn't heard a single other "thud" of a weapon hitting wood.
Tatsuma and Minato bowed politely before leaving. Tatsuma looked at Minato and said, "Your talent really is amazing. If you had started training a month ago like I did, you probably would have won."
[Ding! PHY +2]
Minato scratched his blonde hair. "I wouldn't have today's score at all if you hadn't taught me. And even if I performed perfectly, I only would have tied your score."
Minato paused, then looked at Tatsuma knowingly. "Tatsuma, if I'm not mistaken, a five-meter target doesn't even let you show your real skill, does it?"
Tatsuma laughed but didn't answer. He knew that if he hadn't "harvested" Minato's talent yesterday, he would currently be praying for a lucky break today.
"Let's go. The next test is waiting. If we want to be in the same class, one good performance isn't enough. Keep it up!"
"Yeah! Let's do this."