The first week of classes at the Academy hit Haruto harder than he had expected. He had known from the moment he set foot in this world that things wouldn't be exactly like the anime he remembered. But now, experiencing it firsthand, he realized that life in this world was far more intense than anything a screen could convey.
Konoha was not a cartoonish land of exaggerated power-ups and flashy jutsu. No, it was a place of grit, discipline, and the ever-present threat of violence. The Academy was not simply a school for hopeful children playing at becoming ninjas. It was a crucible, designed to turn those who could endure into weapons for the village. That harshness settled over Haruto as the days passed, each lesson and drill pushing him further than he had imagined.
Reality Hits Hard
The first day had started with Rika Toriyama's harsh but motivational speech. But as the week went on, it became clear that her words weren't just bluster. The Academy didn't shy away from the realities of what it meant to be a shinobi.
On the surface, the schedule looked straightforward—classes on ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, shinobi history, and strategy. But there was something about the way the teachers spoke, the way they taught, that carried a weight beyond the simple lessons. Each session was imbued with the underlying truth that failure, as a shinobi, wasn't just embarrassing or frustrating—it could mean death.
During taijutsu training, Haruto had expected the basics. The anime had made it look almost playful at times—kids sparring in open fields, learning forms and techniques like an after-school activity. But here, when he stepped onto the mat, the training was merciless. Rika paired students up, forcing them to spar without hesitation. Every strike mattered.
He had been paired with a quieter boy named Takeshi, who seemed unassuming at first. But the moment the sparring session began, Takeshi moved with the kind of speed and aggression Haruto hadn't anticipated. A punch hit him square in the ribs before he could block it properly, knocking the wind out of him. Pain lanced through his side, not the kind of dull pain he had expected from a practice punch but the sharp, breath-stealing kind that left him momentarily stunned.
"Focus!" Rika had barked from the sidelines. "You're not here to play. You're here to learn how to fight."
Haruto had nodded, gritting his teeth and pushing through the discomfort. He had barely had time to recover before Takeshi came at him again. He blocked a punch, then another, but a sharp elbow strike nearly knocked him off his feet. Takeshi wasn't pulling his hits, and neither were any of the other students. It became clear very quickly that the Academy wasn't about sparing feelings. They were preparing you for combat.
The anime didn't show this, Haruto thought as he dodged another strike, his ribs still aching. It didn't show the intensity.
Ninjutsu Training
In ninjutsu classes, the intensity was no different. While Haruto had worked on his chakra control before entering the Academy, he quickly realized that the Academy wasn't just about learning flashy techniques like the Clone Jutsu or Transformation Jutsu. They drilled the fundamentals of chakra control into their heads, repeating exercises that were far more exhausting than he had anticipated.
One afternoon, they had spent hours working on the Leaf Concentration Exercise—a deceptively simple task that involved keeping a leaf suspended on your forehead using chakra alone. Haruto had thought it would be easy, given his previous practice, but Rika's standards were far beyond what he had expected.
"It's not just about keeping the leaf in place," Rika had said, watching them with sharp eyes. "It's about control. If your chakra fluctuates, even slightly, the leaf falls. And when you're in combat, even the smallest fluctuation in your chakra could cost you your life."
By the end of the exercise, Haruto's head ached from the concentration. His chakra reserves were depleted, and his focus was fraying. When the session was over, many of the students had barely managed to keep their leaves in place. It was a far cry from the casual training montages he had remembered watching. The stakes were higher here, the consequences more real.
The Weight of Genjutsu
Even Genjutsu training was more intense than he had expected. The Academy started with the basics—recognizing illusions and learning to break out of them. But the instructors didn't hold back. Haruto had found himself trapped in a low-level illusion, his body frozen while his mind tried to process the unfamiliar sensations.
It wasn't anything like what he had imagined from the anime. In the show, Genjutsu often looked straightforward—obvious illusions that could be dispelled with a simple burst of chakra. But here, it was disorienting, unsettling. His body felt real, the illusion convincing enough that for a brief moment, he had forgotten where he was. The feeling of powerlessness as his mind struggled to separate reality from illusion was jarring.
"You will face shinobi who can trap you in an illusion without you even realizing it," Rika had said after the exercise. "If you can't break out of Genjutsu, you might as well be dead."
The severity of her words was not lost on Haruto. Each lesson was laced with the truth of what being a shinobi really meant.
Haruto's Reflection
By the end of the week, Haruto sat on the edge of his bed in his small apartment, staring out the window at the darkening sky. His muscles ached from the relentless physical training. His mind felt like it was in a constant state of overdrive from the ninjutsu, taijutsu, and Genjutsu lessons. And yet, he felt more focused than ever.
This world was more dangerous, more grueling, than he had imagined. The anime had glossed over the harsh realities of what it meant to train as a shinobi. The hits hurt, the training was exhausting, and the lessons came with the constant reminder that failure wasn't an option.
Haruto's gaze drifted to the horizon, where the Hokage Monument stood, the faces of the First, Second, and Third Hokage looking down over the village. The world he had been thrust into was intense, but that only fueled his determination. He wasn't here to enjoy the fantasy of becoming a shinobi. He was here to become one.
"This world is harsher than I thought," Haruto reflected, his fists clenching in quiet resolve. "But that just means I'll have to work harder. I'll have to surpass them all."
With that, Haruto lay back on his bed, the exhaustion from the week catching up with him. But even as his body demanded rest, his mind was already planning his next steps. The world of shinobi was far more real than he had imagined, but Haruto was ready.
He had to be.
This chapter explores Haruto's realization of how the reality of the shinobi world is much more intense than the anime portrayed, and how this fuels his growing determination to survive and thrive in this unforgiving world.