"Hmph! They're just a little more handsome than me. Why is everyone making such a big deal about it?" he grumbled, crossing his arms in frustration.
Inoiki, hearing Naruto's complaint, turned to him with a smirk. "What can I say? I guess I'm just that handsome," he replied, his voice dripping with playful arrogance.
Naruto's teeth clenched, his face twisting in irritation, but before he could retort, Inoiki burst out laughing. The sound was contagious, and soon some of the other students joined in, filling the classroom with laughter.
"Settle down!" Iruka's voice cut in again, restoring order to the room. "Let's continue the introductions."
One by one, the rest of the students followed, introducing themselves until finally, the last person had spoken. Iruka smiled, satisfied that the ice had been broken.
"Good," he said, his tone softening. "Now that we know a little more about each other, let's get started. Welcome to the Ninja Academy."
Iruka stood at the front of the classroom, beginning his lecture on the basics of being a ninja, outlining the fundamental tools and accessories every shinobi must master. Some students, like Sakura and Ino, leaned forward with rapt attention, diligently taking notes at every opportunity. Their pens scratched against the paper as they jotted down every word Iruka spoke, determined to absorb as much knowledge as possible.
Others, however, listened passively, hearing but not bothering to write anything down—Sasuke and Inoiki among them. Their confidence was palpable. They didn't need notes; they felt they already understood much of what was being taught, and what they didn't would come naturally in time.
And then there were the students who barely listened at all. Naruto slouched in his seat, his head resting lazily on his arms, eyes half-closed. Shikamaru, seated nearby, looked equally uninterested, his gaze wandering out the window, lost in thought or simply bored.
For an hour, Iruka's voice filled the room, though his frustration grew evident each time he glanced at the disengaged students. Shikamaru received the brunt of his reprimands. "Shikamaru, sit up! Pay attention!" Iruka snapped more than once. Shikamaru complied each time, though reluctantly, muttering something about how troublesome it all was.
Naruto, on the other hand, was spared the scolding. Iruka had long since made a quiet peace with Naruto's antics, as long as he wasn't causing outright chaos. If Naruto stayed quiet and didn't disturb the class, Iruka figured he wasn't worth the extra effort. Naruto sensed this, too. It wasn't the first time he'd been met with indifference, and by now, he was almost used to it.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to some of the students, the lecture came to an end. Iruka closed his book with a decisive thud.
"Now that we're done with the theory, it's time for the practical part of today's lesson," he announced, instantly waking Naruto and Shikamaru from their stupor. "We'll be heading to the training ground for our next class. Line up properly, and don't break formation—if anyone does, there will be consequences."
The students quickly scrambled into line, eager to stretch their legs and engage in something more exciting. They followed Iruka out of the classroom, marching in a neat row toward the training grounds. Upon arrival, they found themselves standing before an area designed for practicing the art of kunai and shuriken throwing.
Iruka turned to face his students, a row of targets set up behind him. "As you all know, throwing kunai and shuriken is a basic skill every ninja must master. Even the most powerful shinobi rely on these tools in critical moments."
He picked up four kunai from a nearby rack. "Watch closely and pay attention to my form."
Without missing a beat, Iruka hurled the kunai one by one toward the targets. Each struck dead center, hitting the bullseye with perfect precision. The students watched in awe, but Iruka wasn't done. He grabbed four more kunai, this time holding them all in one hand. With a single, fluid motion, he threw them simultaneously, each hitting its mark in the exact same spot.
The students gasped, impressed by his flawless technique.
"Now it's your turn," Iruka said, turning back to the class. "I want each of you to come up and throw the kunai. This will give me a good idea of where you stand and how much more you have to learn."
The students took turns stepping forward, one by one. Most struggled. Those without any ninja family background, many of whom had never even touched a kunai before, fumbled awkwardly as they tried to mimic Iruka's throw. The kunai wobbled in the air, falling far from the targets. Naruto was among these students, his throws wild and uncoordinated, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment creeping onto his face.
Then came the students with some prior training. They had an advantage, their family backgrounds giving them a head start. While their form wasn't perfect, they managed to hit the targets with some degree of accuracy.
Sasuke, however, stood out among the rest. His movements were fluid, his throws sharp and precise. Each kunai he threw landed almost exactly where Iruka's had, his bullseyes drawing murmurs of admiration from the other students. It was no surprise to anyone. Coming from the prestigious Uchiha Clan, Sasuke had been trained in the art of kunai and shuriken throwing from a young age.
Inoiki followed, performing nearly as well. His friends expected no less from him—after all, he had been practicing these skills since he was five. His kunai hit the targets with satisfying thuds, just shy of Sasuke's precision, but still far ahead of most of his classmates.
As the session came to an end, the difference in skill levels was clear. Those from ninja families had a considerable advantage, and it showed in their results.
Iruka, holding a clipboard, began reading out the scores. "Sasuke, 95 points. Inoiki, 90 points. Shikamaru, 88 points. Ino, 86. Shino, 85. Choji, 82…and last, Naruto 0 points."
Naruto shifted uncomfortably as Iruka continued down the list, his own score far below what he had hoped. He glanced over at Sasuke, the Uchiha's calm expression making his frustration burn even hotter. But Naruto clenched his fists, determined not to let it get to him—he had a long way to go, but he'd get there, no matter what.
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