The first official week at the Ninja Academy began with a sense of excitement and curiosity. For many, this was the first step toward their dream of becoming shinobi. For others—especially those from established clans—it was merely a formality, a structured environment to refine skills they had already begun learning at home.
Indra, Asahi, and the other clan children had little to gain from basic lessons, but they attended nonetheless. It was a chance to observe, analyze, and, most importantly, understand the minds of their future comrades and rivals.
Their first lesson took place in a standard classroom, where thirty students sat at wooden desks, their eyes drawn to the front as a chūnin instructor walked in. He was an older man with visible scars on his forearms, a clear sign of experience on the battlefield. His sharp gaze swept across the classroom before he spoke.
"Konoha was not always the great village you see today," he began, his voice firm. "Once, the world was ruled by constant war—clans fighting over territory, over resources, over power. Children like you were not students. You were soldiers. You fought, killed, and died before you even had the chance to grow."
Many students, particularly the civilians, stiffened at his words. Even among clan children, there was a clear shift in the atmosphere.
"But that changed," the instructor continued. "Two men changed it—Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha."
A large diagram was unrolled across the front of the classroom, depicting the two legendary figures.
"Together, they founded this village, uniting their clans and bringing others under one banner. The First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, dreamed of peace—a place where children could grow before stepping onto the battlefield."
Indra listened carefully, noting how much emphasis was placed on Hashirama. Madara was mentioned, but only as an afterthought—a bitter reminder of betrayal.
"And yet, peace is never simple," the instructor went on. "Even after Konoha was founded, war came again. That is why shinobi must always be prepared. You are not here to play. You are here to learn how to survive."
The lesson continued, covering the Will of Fire and Konoha's rapid growth. Some students took notes diligently, while others—mostly the clan heirs—listened with mild interest.
Indra observed the lesson on Konoha's history with an impassive expression. The glorification of Hashirama Senju was predictable, but the way Madara's legacy was downplayed irritated him. He had no particular admiration for Madara, but he recognized the pattern—history was written by the victors. Would his own achievements one day be reduced to mere footnotes if he failed?
The next lesson was on chakra fundamentals, primarily aimed at the civilian-born students. A different instructor, a younger chūnin with dark green hair, stood before them.
"Chakra is the essence of all ninjutsu, genjutsu, and even taijutsu. It is a combination of your physical and spiritual energy, allowing you to perform techniques beyond normal human capability."
She held up a leaf between her fingers.
"To use chakra effectively, you must control it. That begins with meditation and the Leaf Exercise. Those of you from clans have likely already practiced this, but for the rest, this will be your first step."
Each student was given a small green leaf. The task was simple—channel chakra into the leaf and make it stick to their forehead.
As expected, the civilian-born students struggled. Many either released too much chakra, making the leaf shoot off, or too little, causing it to fall.
Indra glanced at his fiancée. Asahi sat calmly, the leaf stuck perfectly on her forehead. Tsunade had succeeded, though she looked slightly annoyed by the simplicity of the task. Jiraiya, as expected, was failing spectacularly.
"Why do we even need to do this?" Jiraiya grumbled. "Can't we just move on to the cool stuff like fireballs and shadow clones?"
Tsunade rolled her eyes. "You can't even make a leaf stick, and you want to do ninjutsu?"
Indra smirked. "Perhaps you should focus less on complaining and more on controlling your chakra."
Jiraiya pouted but tried again, only for the leaf to slip off once more.
Orochimaru, meanwhile, performed the exercise flawlessly, his eyes flickering with curiosity as he studied the reactions of his classmates.
The next few days introduced survival training. The students were taken outside to a training ground surrounded by thick trees and uneven terrain.
"Surviving in the wild is just as important as knowing how to fight," their instructor explained. "A shinobi who cannot endure hunger, navigate terrain, or avoid traps is as good as dead."
The lessons were split into two parts—one covering the theory of survival, and the other involving practical exercises.
They learned about identifying edible plants, finding water sources, and setting up basic shelters. The practical portion included avoiding tripwires, recognizing pressure plates, and even setting up simple traps.
"This is an explosive tag," the instructor said, holding up a small paper tag with black ink inscriptions. "One wrong step, and you're either dead or crippled."
Most of the civilian students were visibly unnerved. The clan students remained calm, though some, like Jiraiya, eyed the tag with poorly hidden curiosity.
"Jiraiya, do not touch that!" Tsunade barked as he reached for the tag. He quickly withdrew his hand, grinning sheepishly.
Orochimaru, as always, was intensely focused, making detailed observations. Indra saw this as an opportunity. He had no interest in being the best at survival, but knowing how to counter traps was invaluable. The Hyuga's Byakugan could see through most deceptions, but that didn't mean he would rely on it blindly.
On some days, the class focused on weapon training. Wooden targets were set up, and students were handed dull kunai and shuriken.
"Throwing weapons requires precision, not strength," the instructor explained. "Control your breathing, steady your grip, and release at the right moment."
Tsunade had a strong throw, but her accuracy was inconsistent. Orochimaru, on the other hand, displayed almost unnatural precision, his shuriken striking the same spot multiple times.
Indra took his turn, flicking the kunai forward. It flew, but not straight—it curved off course, missing the target by a significant margin. He frowned.
"Hmph," Tsunade smirked. "Not so perfect, huh?"
Indra ignored her and adjusted his grip. He threw again. The kunai hit the target this time, but off-center.
Asahi stepped up beside him. "You're gripping it too tightly. Try relaxing your fingers before you release."
He took her advice, throwing the next shuriken with a bit more ease. It landed closer to the center, but it was still clear—this wasn't his forte.
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As the weeks passed, the academy routine became clear. Clan students grew closer, while the civilian students worked hard to catch up.
One thing was clear—this class would define the future of Konoha.
And Indra would ensure that when the time came, he would be at the top.