Running past the guard, I burst into the Academy — the clock already showed 8:55. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. Everything had gone wrong from the very start this morning: first, I accidentally knocked the alarm clock off the nightstand, and then it turned out it hadn't gone off at all. As a result, I overslept by almost two hours.
"Phew…" I exhaled, leaping up the final flight of stairs and dashing into the corridor. Voices could already be heard behind the classroom door. Judging by them, almost everyone was already inside.
Pushing the door open, I practically flew in, trying to force something between a cheerful smile and a "I-was-totally-not-late" expression onto my face. Teacher Kiharu's gaze flicked toward me, but he said nothing — it seemed I wasn't the only one who made it just in time. I quickly slipped into my seat, doing my best to avoid drawing attention.
"Oh, the hero arrives," Guy whispered with a smirk, leaning over my shoulder. "What, were you wrestling your pillow to the bitter end?"
"Pretty much," I muttered, wiping sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. "It turned out to be a worthy opponent…"
I had barely caught my breath when Kiharu Satoro clapped his palm loudly on the desk, drawing the class's attention.
"Attention! Everyone is here, good," he began, scanning us with a stern look. "First — the exam results."
He unrolled a scroll and glanced over the list.
"I'll read out the names. If you passed — come forward and take your forehead protector. Then return to your seats — I'll announce the team assignments."
A tense silence fell over the room. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation — even the dust in the air felt like it was holding its breath.
"Hihoki Shimura."
A boy from the last row quickly got up, ran forward, and solemnly accepted the protector from Kiharu. Then others followed — one after another, without pause.
"Asei Sarutobi."
"Akimichi Shitoo."
"Ishin Yamanaka."
"Daen Nara..."
I flinched when I heard my name. I rose from the bench and walked to the teacher's desk, trying to appear calm. Receiving the protector, I clutched it tightly in my hand — I had worked toward this moment the entire time. I had become a genin. A real ninja. I don't even know how to describe the joy — it was overwhelming.
A few minutes later, the entire class sat wearing their protectors — some with pride on their foreheads, others with sheer relief on their faces.
Kiharu put the scroll with the results aside and raised his head:
"Congratulations to everyone. This year, everyone passed the exam. But now — the next step. Team formation."
He opened a second scroll and, with much greater ceremony, began to read:
"Now — team assignments. Listen carefully. I'll read the names — stay in your seats, your instructors will come for you shortly."
Team 1
— Hihoki Shimura
— Tsubaki
— Yamamoto Sena
Team 2
— Asei Sarutobi
— Hattori Mei
— Rokushou
Team 3
— Akimichi Shitoo
— Ishin Yamanaka
— Daen Nara
Team 4
— Maito Guy
— Shiranui Genma
— Hogane Kotetsu
For a split second, the entire classroom seemed to disappear — noise, glances, even breathing stopped. A wave of realization hit me: finally. Everything I'd worked for all year — sleepless nights, exhausting training, studying theory and practicing techniques not even part of the Academy's core program — all of it had one goal:
To get into Guy's team.
For that, I had to prove myself in all aspects of shinobi skills — especially ninjutsu. I'd focused deliberately on that area, knowing Guy's team needed someone versatile, but with a leaning toward ninjutsu.
But still... I don't think it was just about the techniques. This felt too precise to be a coincidence.
Yes, I'd mentioned it a couple of times to Teacher Kohoshi. I'd asked, hinted, even said it outright — but he always gave vague answers, saying the committee handled assignments and his word wasn't decisive.
Maybe someone had heard me? Or maybe there were other reasons — something I wasn't aware of.
While I tried to figure out what had influenced the decision, names and team numbers continued to echo through the room. But to me, it had all faded into background noise — distant and unimportant.
"Wait... my second teammate is Shiranui Genma?.." I mumbled to myself.
Of course, I knew who he was. We'd crossed paths — first in the forest when I was attacked, then a few times during joint training, and once at the training field when our cohort trained alongside the senior group. Genma was from a different group, maybe even a bit older. And definitely not from my stream.
So why was he in my team now?
My gaze shifted to the examiners, to Kiharu, but he was already reading the next list, paying no mind to the students' reactions. I tried to figure it out: maybe this was normal? Or maybe... not?
Could it be that the committee wasn't forming random trios but assembling balanced teams?
If you looked closely... many of the teams really did seem well-matched. Strong students paired with other strong ones, and those who were weaker grouped together too.
Could it be… they were deliberately forming high-power units to deploy them to the front as fast as possible???
I hope not!
Maybe such groups are easier and more effective to train. Or, on the contrary — maybe more will be expected of them.
The thought that this wasn't just assignment, but selection, planted itself deep inside me.
Too many coincidences. Too much logic.
But my mind was a mess.
"Too complicated…" I muttered, rubbing my temple hard.
No time to get lost in theories. If I ended up in this team — then I need to focus. Because from this moment on, the stakes just got much higher.
"In a few minutes, your instructors will come for you. Wait until you're called. And congratulations — you are now true genin of Konoha. Your journey has just begun."
"Are you finished?" — a woman with short hair peeked into the classroom, her voice calm but firm.
"Yes, yes..." Takaruki, the examiner, responded quickly.
His expression shifted instantly to something more official — like he'd flipped on a hidden "bureaucrat-on-duty" mode. He rose from his seat:
"You may collect your teams."
One by one, six people entered the classroom behind her.
Four of them were clearly chunin — their uniforms and protectors made that obvious. They stood straight, confidently, but without unnecessary strictness.
After them — two jonin. One immediately stood out: tall, blondish hair, a few scars on his face, and a look that said "no time for nonsense." He swept his eyes across the classroom quickly and positioned himself near the board.
And... the last one.
He entered slowly, as if it was hard for him to move. Samurai-style armor, a purple rope belt, and instead of the standard forehead protector — a hachimaki.
He was rather chubby — clearly from the Akimichi clan…
"Now that's a type…" I thought, leaning slightly forward. "Out of all of them, he definitely stands out the most."
I strained my memory — who was Guy's commander again? — but I couldn't remember, no matter how hard I tried.
That only added to the intrigue.
Then the blond-haired jonin stepped forward. His voice was sharp and to the point:
"Team One. Get your gear. We're leaving."
No introductions. No small talk. All business.
"Team Two…" — the next instructor began, stepping forward.
Slowly, one by one, the roll call began for the teams, and with each spoken phrase, the tension in my chest only grew stronger.
"Team Four," came the voice from the chubby one.
He gave our row a glance, as if bored.
"Team Four," he repeated, yawning slightly. "Grab your stuff and head out."
Not a shred of drama.