The morning of the Academy entrance arrived faster than I expected.
It wasn't like I hadn't prepared—I had.
Three years of training, reading, meditating, and learning everything I could about chakra and the shinobi system had all led to this moment.
Yet, as I stood at the orphanage gates with a handful of other kids, some familiar faces among them, I couldn't ignore the buzz of anticipation in my chest.
"Alright, alright! Let's get moving before Mura-chi decides to start another speech about the importance of punctuality," Kazu said, his signature grin in place as he stretched his arms behind his head.
"I do not give speeches," I shot back. Rude. Kids and their lack of understanding. Don't they understand it's a necessity for a future boss such as myself?
"You definitely do," Aiko muttered, adjusting the strap of her small satchel. "And they're long."
Renji snorted. "And kind of annoying."
I rolled my eyes. "You're all still here, though."
The group of us, seven in total, set off toward the Academy.
There was Kazu, the mischievous troublemaker who somehow always found himself at the center of whatever mess we had to clean up. Aiko, the skeptic, whose sharp tongue kept most of us in check. Renji, the food thief who had (mostly) cleaned up his act since getting caught one too many times.
The others were Tsubaki, a quiet girl who preferred actions over words, Daisuke, a lanky kid who seemed to always worry about something, and Sota, a boy with big dreams but little confidence.
Unlike myself and a few other who were fortunate to have notable parents still retain our surname but a few other who were probably picked up or abandoned by their parents were given only a single name.
And while that was a pity, there was nothing I could do about it.
This world is just that fucked up to the weak.
…
The Academy wasn't too far from the orphanage, just a twenty-minute walk if you weren't dragging your feet. The streets of Konoha were alive with activity with vendors opening their shops, shinobi moving with purpose, and civilians starting their daily routines.
It was a sight I had grown used to, but today, it felt different. Today, I was one step closer to being part of it.
The Academy itself was an imposing sight considering the village at the time, a large building with a traditional tiled roof, surrounded by training grounds and classrooms.
Other children, most from civilian families but a handful from shinobi clans, were already gathering at the entrance. Some looked as nervous as Sota, others as cocky as Kazu.
"So, uh… are we supposed to just walk in?" Daisuke asked, shifting from foot to foot.
"We're supposed to gather in the courtyard," Tsubaki said simply. She had been reading the notice boards around the village as we walked. Didn't think she was that observant. Maybe I should keep an eye on her. She could prove to be useful if trained properly.
I led the way toward the courtyard, where a group of instructors stood in front of the assembled children.
A few minutes passed and as soon as the time clocked 8 am, one of them, a middle-aged man with a scar across his chin and sharp eyes, stepped forward.
"Welcome to the Konoha Shinobi Academy," he began, his voice carrying across the space. "Today, you take the first step toward becoming a shinobi. Some of you are here because of family tradition, some because you wish to serve the village, and others simply because you want to see how far you can go. Regardless of your reasons, understand this, being a shinobi is not a game. It is a responsibility."
I watched the reactions around me. Some kids straightened up, others fidgeted. A few, like me, remained still, waiting for him to continue.
"To enroll, you must first pass the entrance test," the instructor continued. "It consists of three parts: basic physical conditioning, chakra aptitude, and general knowledge."
Renji groaned. "A test? Seriously?"
"What did you think, that they'd just let anyone in?" Aiko muttered.
"...Kinda, yeah."
I ignored their bickering as we were soon split into groups and taken to different areas of the Academy grounds.
The first part of the exam was straightforward—running laps, climbing a rope, push-ups, and a simple agility course. Basic tests designed to weed out the completely unfit.
"Alright, listen up," one of the instructors called out. "We're not expecting you to be prodigies, but you should at least show some effort. You'll run a lap around the training field, complete the course, then do as many push-ups as you can in one minute. Your performance will be noted."
I nodded to myself. Simple enough. My training over the past three years has more than prepared me for this.
When it was my turn, I pushed off the starting line and ran with steady, measured steps. Some kids bolted ahead at full speed, only to slow down halfway through. I kept my pace even, focusing on efficiency over bursts of energy.
By the time I finished, I was in the upper half of the group—not the fastest, but definitely not struggling.
The rope climb was a breeze, considering I had practiced grip strength and coordination extensively. The agility course was trickier, with balance beams and hurdles, but I navigated it without issue.
Push-ups? I had done thousands over the years. One minute was barely a warm-up.
When I finished, I glanced around to check on the others.
Kazu was grinning like an idiot, panting but satisfied. "Not bad, huh?"
Aiko was glaring at the dirt on her palm like it had personally offended her. "...This is stupid."
Renji? Well, let's just say the food thief needed to work on his endurance.
The second test was designed to check if we could mold chakra at all. Each of us was given a leaf and instructed to make it move using only our chakra.
Simple, right?
Well, for me, yes. For others? Not so much.
I placed the leaf on my palm, focused, and let my chakra flow through it. The leaf trembled before lifting slightly.
Some kids stared in frustration at their unmoving leaves, while others managed tiny wobbles.
Kazu smirked when he got his leaf to roll over. "Ha! Natural talent."
Aiko glared at hers. "This test is rigged."
Renji... well, his leaf sat there like a rock.
I noticed the instructors nodding as they observed, clearly marking down notes.
The final part was a written test—questions about Konoha's history, basic tactics, and problem-solving scenarios.
I had spent years reading. This was the easiest part for me.
Kazu, on the other hand, was chewing on his pencil like it had the answers embedded in it.
Aiko worked through it methodically, muttering under her breath about dumb questions.
Renji? Well, let's just say if this were a test about food, he'd ace it.
By the end of it all, we were called back into the courtyard. The instructors stood before us again, their expressions unreadable.
"If your name is called, you have been accepted into the Academy," the lead instructor announced.
One by one, names were read. I waited, listening.
Then—
"Haruki Murakami."
I exhaled. Not that I had doubted, but still.
Kazu and Aiko were called next. Renji barely made it, but he grinned when his name was read.
Surprisingly, Daisuke, Tsubaki and Sota also all made It. Seems like the orphanage is gonna be having some strong support in the future.
As we stood there, officially Academy students, I couldn't help but feel that this was only the beginning.
Three years of preparation had led to this.
Now, the real work would begin.
…
Normal POV
Few Hours Ago
The Academy courtyard was filled with the energy of young hopeful children eager to take their first step into the shinobi world.
For the instructors watching from the side, however, this was just another entrance exam.
A middle-aged instructor with a sharp chin scar, Hirose, stood with his arms crossed, scanning the participants as they gathered. Beside him, two others, Akimoto, a lean man with graying hair, and Shiba, a burly man with a constant frown, observed in silence.
"Same as always," Akimoto murmured, eyes flicking over the crowd. "Some clan kids standing around like they own the place, some nervous civilians, and a handful of orphans."
Shiba grunted. "The orphans always have something to prove. Some break under it, some thrive."
Hirose didn't comment. He was too busy watching one particular boy in the crowd, a dark-haired child standing calmly amid the chatter. No nervous fidgeting, no arrogant boasting. Just stillness.
"Haruki Murakami, from the orphanage," Hirose noted. "That one's interesting."
Akimoto followed his gaze. "What about him?"
"Most kids his age are either excited or anxious. He's neither. He's measuring everything. Look at his eyes—he's analyzing everyone around him."
Shiba snorted. "Confidence or arrogance?"
"We'll see," Hirose replied. "Let's begin."
Physical Conditioning Test
The children were split into groups, each taking turns running laps, climbing the rope, and completing the agility course. Hirose, Akimoto, and Shiba watched from the side, taking notes.
"Some decent ones in this batch," Akimoto mused, watching a clan kid complete the course with ease. "That Uchiha boy is fast."
Shiba grunted in agreement. "They always are."
Then, Murakami started his run. Unlike some of the kids who bolted forward recklessly, he maintained a steady, even pace.
"Smart," Hirose murmured.
"Not the fastest," Akimoto noted, watching another boy pull ahead.
"But he's not wasting energy," Hirose countered. "That's an endurance runner's pace. He's not burning himself out early like the others."
The rope climb came next. Murakami reached up, grasped the rope, and scaled it with smooth, practiced movements. No wasted effort, no unnecessary struggling.
Shiba's frown deepened. "That's not natural for a seven-year-old."
Akimoto glanced at him. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying he's trained. Not just playing around like most kids. Those movements are efficient."
Hirose nodded. "Agreed. Look at his grip; strong, controlled. He knew exactly how to pace himself through this course."
Then came the push-ups.
Most kids managed between ten and twenty before collapsing. Murakami? He kept going, arms moving steadily, expression calm.
"…Forty-three, forty-four, forty-fi—time," the instructor called out.
A moment later, Murakami pushed himself up effortlessly, not even breathing hard.
The three instructors exchanged glances.
"Well," Akimoto muttered. "That was unexpected."
…
The next test had the children attempt to move a leaf using chakra. Most struggled, many of them had barely begun any chakra training.
Hirose observed Murakami closely.
The boy sat, placed the leaf on his palm, and after only a few seconds, it lifted slightly.
"…Controlled flow," Akimoto noted. "Not accidental."
Shiba let out a low hum. "So, he understands chakra control already? That's not something most civilian kids pick up this quickly."
"Not unless they're trained," Hirose added. "And he wasn't raised in a shinobi family."
Nearby, another child, Kazu, grinned as his leaf wobbled in place.
Aiko, on the other hand, scowled at hers, as if sheer willpower alone would move it.
"That girl has potential," Shiba said, amused. "She doesn't give up easily."
Akimoto chuckled. "The other one, Kazu, he's got a mischievous streak. He won't be a front-line fighter, but he'll be useful in tricky situations."
Hirose nodded, but his focus remained on Murakami.
"Three years," he muttered.
Akimoto raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"He's been at the orphanage for three years. Whatever he's been doing in that time, it's clear he hasn't wasted a second of it."
…
The final test was a written exam covering history, tactics, and problem-solving.
Hirose watched Murakami as he worked. No hesitation. His pencil moved smoothly, answers coming without pause.
When he glanced at other kids, the difference was obvious. Kazu was chewing his pencil. Aiko was methodically filling in answers, pausing only to roll her eyes. Renji? Well… Renji looked like he wanted to disappear.
By the time Murakami finished, Hirose had already made his decision.
Once the tests ended, the instructors gathered to compare notes.
"So," Akimoto said, flipping through his papers. "Any standouts?"
Hirose set his own papers down. "Murakami."
Akimoto sighed. "I figured you'd say that. He's not the fastest, strongest, or smartest, but he's the most well-rounded."
Shiba nodded. "And he's been training. That much is clear. If he keeps this up, he'll be ahead of most of his classmates in a few years."
Hirose smirked. "Then let's see what he does with this opportunity."
With that, the decision was made.