The morning sun painted Konoha in hues of gold and amber, stretching long shadows across the cobbled streets.
The air carried the scent of fresh-baked bread and sizzling skewers as merchants set up their stalls, their chatter mixing with the rhythmic footsteps of children heading in the same direction.
It was the day of the entrance exam.
The Academy stood tall ahead, its curved roof and wide wooden gates imposing yet familiar.
I had seen it from the outside many times with Grandma, watching older kids training in the yard.
Today, I was stepping inside, not as a spectator, but as a participant.
A large wooden board was mounted on the wall near the entrance, names scribbled in neat ink, assigning us to different rooms.
I ran my finger down the list.
Room 4B – Kazeo.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my breath to stay even. The moment I stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted—not into silence, but into awareness.
Dozens of eyes flicked toward me. Some curious, some indifferent, a few measuring.
Whispers curled through the air like drifting embers. Excited murmurs from children too young to grasp the weight of what lay ahead. For most, this was just another step in their expected journey. A rite of passage.
Some bore the insignias of Konoha's great clans—Uchiha, Hyūga, Nara. Their very presence radiated quiet confidence, their names carrying generations of power, prestige, and expectations.
And then, there was me.
A name with no weight. No history. No expectations except the ones I set for myself.
I chose a seat by the window, my gaze drifting to the training fields below. The grass swayed in the wind, undisturbed by the tension coiling in my muscles.
The boy beside me, a slightly chubby kid with wild brown hair, tapped his fingers against the desk nervously. He glanced at me, then at the front of the room.
"You nervous?" he muttered, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
I shrugged. "Not really."
He blinked. "Really? I mean, this is the first step to becoming a shinobi. You're not even a little worried?"
I glanced around. Some kids were bouncing their legs anxiously, others whispering to their friends, probably trying to distract themselves. A few clan kids sat with perfect posture, their expressions unreadable.
"Worrying won't change the outcome,right?" I said simply.
He let out a breath. "Yeah, guess you're right. Still, I heard the physical exam is brutal."
Before I could respond, another voice cut in.
"If you think this is brutal, you'll never make it past graduation."
We turned to see a boy with sharp features and an unmistakable Uchiha crest on his back. His expression was flat, but his eyes held that same quiet superiority all Uchihas seemed to have.
The chubby boy next to me frowned. "Yeah? And what makes you so sure?"
The Uchiha didn't even blink. "Because I trained for this. If you didn't, then you're already behind."
The air between them tensed, but I merely observed. It was the truth. Life wasn't fair. It never had been.
Before either of them could say more, a heavy presence filled the room.
At the front, Chūnin proctors stood like stone pillars, their expressions unreadable. One of them, a man with a jagged scar slicing down his cheek, stepped forward. His voice cut through the murmurs, steady and firm.
"Welcome to the Academy Entrance Exam. Today, we will assess your physical and mental abilities to determine if you have the potential to become shinobi."
A pause.
"The exam consists of two sections—written and physical."
"Any questions?"
Silence.
"Good. Let's begin."
The room stilled.
No one was surprised.
Not a single child in the room.
Everyone knew there would be a written exam.
The orphanages had made sure of it—drilling letters and numbers into our heads before we even lost our baby teeth. By the time we were six, reading and writing weren't just encouraged; they were mandatory.
Because even an orphan should know how to follow orders.
A shinobi who couldn't read mission directives was useless. A soldier who couldn't write reports was a liability.
So, as the proctor began handing out the exam papers, there were no gasps of shock, no wide-eyed panic.
But that didn't mean there was no fear.
Some kids gripped their pencils so tight their knuckles turned white. Others tapped their feet restlessly, their breathing uneven.
Some straightened their backs. Others clenched their fists.
I simply exhaled again, grounding myself.
Because today, I wasn't just another orphan from Konoha.
Today, I took my first step toward something greater.
////////
The Written Exam -
Scrolls of paper were placed in front of us, filled with questions ranging from history to chakra theory. I took a deep breath and focused.
Que.1 :- Who was the First Hokage?
Easy - Hashirama Senju.
Que.2 :- What are the five basic chakra natures?
Fire, Wind, Water, Earth, Lightning.
Que.3 :- What are.... ?
Que.4 :- Who was .... ?
The questions weren't difficult, but I could hear the frustrated scribbling of those struggling around me.
Some sighed heavily, erasing their answers repeatedly.
I finished early, setting my brush down and glancing around.
A boy two rows ahead gnawed at his lip, his teeth pressing so hard it looked like he might draw blood. His eyes flickered constantly, darting to his neighbor's paper in quick, desperate glances.
His hands twitched, fingers tightening around his pencil as if willing the answers to appear on his own sheet.
Another student sat frozen, his head buried in his hands. His shoulders trembled ever so slightly, his breaths coming too quick, too shallow.
From the way his fingers dug into his scalp, it was clear—panic had already sunk its claws into him.
The weight of the exam hung over the room like a storm cloud, silent yet suffocating. The scratching of pencils filled the space, broken only by the occasional shifting of nervous bodies.
I turned back to my own exam, tapping my fingers against the desk.
This is only the first part. The real challenge comes next.
///////////
The Physical Exam -
The sun had climbed higher by the time we stepped outside.
The Academy's training ground stretched before us—marked tracks for running, wooden dummies for accuracy tests, and sandbags for endurance drills.
"Alright, brats," one of the proctors called out. "Line up! We're testing speed and stamina first."
"The first phase of the physical exam will begin. You have to run 5 laps on the path marked in the training ground.
Each lap is around 500m.
That's 2.5 kilometers total.
Everyone will be monitored during this run."
Some students let out small sighs of relief—500 meters per lap didn't sound too bad.
But then the proctor's next words killed that hope.
"I will run ahead. You will follow. Keep up, or get left behind."
He didn't wait for a response—just took off, his strides steady and powerful.
I moved instantly.
The air filled with the sound of pounding feet, heavy breaths, and the occasional curse as someone nearly tripped. A few overeager kids from strong clans surged ahead, their pride pushing them to take the lead. Uchiha. Hyūga. Nara. Even some Akimichi, who relied on their larger builds to carry momentum.
I didn't bother matching their pace. I knew how this would end.
One lap.
Two.
The initial energy started fading. Some were already slowing, their breathing ragged. I maintained my pace—controlled, efficient. My heart pumped steadily, my lungs expanding and contracting in rhythm.
Three laps.
The first ones started dropping out, clutching their sides or gasping for air. But I kept going.
Four laps.
Five.
The ache started. Not exhaustion—I could run this distance. It was something deeper, a strain in my muscles, a heaviness in my limbs that shouldn't have been there. My body was reaching its limit, but I didn't stop because it was my new normal in this life.
Six laps.
Murmurs rose from those who had finished, their tired forms slumped near the edges.
"He's still running?"
Seven laps.
A few of the clan kids—those too proud to accept defeat—gritted their teeth and forced themselves to keep up. The Uchiha boy from earlier was still going, sweat dripping down his face. A Hyūga pushed forward, his breathing uneven.
Twelve laps.
One by one, they started falling back. The Uchiha stumbled slightly, his legs barely responding. The Hyūga came to a sudden stop, hands on his knees.
Fifteen laps
Eighteen laps.
I felt every step now. My muscles screamed, my body burned, but I didn't stop.
Twenty laps.
Silence.
The few still standing just stared as I came to a halt, my breathing heavy but controlled.
I had done it.
10 kilometers.
Because I had to come first.
Because I had to meet him.
////////
Next was strength and endurance—
push-ups, sit-ups, and a sandbag lift .
My arms burned, sweat trickling down my forehead, but I kept going because it was a regular day for me and my exhaustion .
And I was also the last one standing in this exam.
Whoever passed this exam was said to go with a proctor for the next assessment.
/////////
Before next exam, those who passed the earlier physical exam were said to be divided into two groups: one for those who had their chakra unlocked, and another for those whose chakra was still locked.
Proctors stepped forward and helped unlock the chakra of students whose chakra was still locked.
I was a little astonished at first, but it made sense when I thought about it.
They had lost so many shinobi during the Third Great Ninja War and the Kyūbi's rampage.
It was clear they were trying to cultivate as many ninjas as possible, to rebuild their strength.
Obviously, not everyone would rise to the rank of Jōnin but even those who didn't could still serve in other capacities—used as reserve Genin or Chūnin, much like reserved private in an army.
////////
The final test: shuriken and kunai accuracy -
The wooden targets stood ahead, painted with rings like bullseyes.
I picked up a shuriken, feeling its cool metal between my fingers.
Breathe in. Focus . Breathe out.
I flicked my wrist. The shuriken sliced through the air, embedding itself in the central ring. Not perfect, but decent. The kunai throw landed closer to the center.
A few students gasped when an Uchiha kid hit the bullseye every time.
He smirked, basking in the attention.
I ignored him. There was always someone better than you , I already learnt it hard way in my previous life.
Some passed. Some failed. And just like that, the exam was over.
///////
Results -
The next morning, the list was posted. A crowd had already gathered, jostling to see their names.
I squeezed through, scanning the parchment.
There.
Kazeo – Passed .
I stared for a moment, letting the words sink in. A hand clapped my shoulder.
"You made it, huh?" My both roommates and few other orphans grinned. "Guess we'll be classmates now."
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah. I guess we will."
For the first time in a long while, something settled in my chest. Not quite warmth, not quite excitement—just a quiet certainty.
I had taken my first step toward becoming a shinobi.
//////////
Same day -
We stood in the training yard, lined up neatly under the watchful eyes of the proctors.
The sun hung high in the sky, its warmth settling over us, but no one paid attention to the heat.
Not today.
Because today, the Hokage was coming.
The murmurs among the students had turned into full-blown excitement.
Some kids bounced on their heels, others whispered animatedly, wondering what he'd say.
Even the clan kids—usually too proud to show emotions— wore barely concealed anticipation on their faces.
Me? I stood still, hands curled into fists at my sides. My heart wasn't pounding from excitement .
It was pounding from nervousness.
Because unlike others, I knew the Hokage had specifically told me something yesterday—something that still weighed on my mind.
"Take the first place and meet me for the reward."
I had tried my best, but was it enough to secure first place ?
'Did he know something?'
'Can he see my chakra level ?'
I barely noticed when the chattering stopped, an almost unnatural silence falling over the courtyard. Then, the proctors straightened, stepping aside as an elderly figure approached.
Sarutobi Hiruzen. The Third Hokage.
Despite his old age, he carried himself with an air of quiet authority.
His robes, embroidered with the kanji for 'Fire,' swayed gently as he walked.
His kind yet sharp eyes swept over us, assessing.
A hush spread over the crowd, every child standing a little taller.
The Hokage smiled. "Congratulations to all of you for passing the entrance exam. Today marks the beginning of your journey as shinobi of Konoha."
A strange thrill coursed through me as I prepared to experience the legendary Third Hokage's speech on the Will of Fire.
I had seen its effects before—how those carefully crafted words had pushed Naruto to strive for the Hokage title,
Even after all the disdain thrown his way.
It had been easy for him to manipulate Naruto, to feed him that ideal.
And now, I was about to witness the same speech, knowing full well he could do the same with everyone here—plant the seed of the Will of Fire in them, just as he had done with Naruto.
The thought was both unsettling and exhilarating.
( To be continued)...
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Next chapter --> Will of Fire and Suspicion
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