The rest of the day dragged on, but not in the way I expected.
I had assumed we'd move on to another lecture, more theory, more discussion on the intricacies of ninjutsu, maybe even a deeper dive into what Saito-sensei had meant about "bending the system." Instead, after a brief break, we were shuffled into another classroom for what should have been our actual first lesson of the day: homeroom.
I resisted the urge to rub my temples.
So why exactly did we have ninjutsu first instead of this?
The answer came soon enough, as a new instructor entered the room. He was younger than Saito-sensei, probably in his late twenties.
His hair was dark brown, tied into a loose ponytail, and his flak jacket was worn over a navy-blue yukata-style top. His forehead protector was strapped tightly around his arm rather than his head.
His expression was neutral, but his eyes were half-lidded, which reminded me of a Nara who hadn't quite decided whether he wanted to be asleep or actually do his job.
"Alright," he said, letting his gaze sweep across the room. "I am your homeroom instructor, Daigo-sensei. I was supposed to handle introductions first thing in the morning, but I was caught up in something. My bad."
He didn't elaborate, and nobody questioned it. It was rare for a teacher to actually admit when they screwed up, though.
"Anyway, we'll get this over with now. Everyone, stand up one by one, state your name, likes, dislikes, and your dream for the future."
I blinked.
Shouldn't this have come before Saito-sensei's lecture? Would've been nice to have some context on my classmates before diving into ninjutsu theory.
I glanced at Daigo-sensei. He probably didn't care about minor inconveniences like "proper scheduling."
One by one, students stood up and introduced themselves.
Soon it was Aiko's turn and of course, she bounced to her feet like she'd been waiting for this moment all day.
"I'm Aiko! I like sweets, winning, and talking to interesting people! I dislike rude people and bitter food. My dream is to be strong enough to do whatever I want!"
That was… oddly fitting.
It was soon Ryuji Inuzuka's turn, his puppy shifted slightly inside his jacket as he stood to his feet.
"I'm Inuzuka Ryuji. I like my partner, Kiba, and running. I don't like being indoors for too long. My dream is to surpass my clan's strongest ninja."
Damn. Don't tell me future Kiba was named after a dog…It can't be…right?
Right?
The next few students were mostly normal responses.
Some wanted to be strong, some wanted to be respected, others wanted to make their families proud. A few were more ambitious, one kid actually said he wanted to be Hokage.
That earned a few chuckles.
Then the Uchiha spoke.
The boy had sharp facial features and too-calm an expression as stood up.
Classic Uchiha.
"My name is Rensuke Uchiha. I like training and improving myself. I dislike arrogance without skill. My dream… is to prove that the Uchiha are the strongest in the village."
I saw a few other students shift in their seats at that, some impressed, others annoyed. The Hyūga girl, Hana, narrowed her eyes slightly, but said nothing.
The introductions continued, but my attention lingered on the Hyūga girl, Hana.
She sat with perfect posture, hands resting neatly on her lap. Her pale lavender eyes, the hallmark of her clan, remained calm, but there was something else beneath them.
A flicker of sharpness.
How familiar.
When her turn came, she rose gracefully, her expression carefully neutral.
"My name is Hana Hyūga," she said, her voice even and composed. "I like morning training, quiet places, and tea."
She paused for a fraction of a second before continuing.
"I dislike those who assume strength is their birthright rather than something earned."
That earned a few glances, some amused, some knowing. My gaze flickered to Rensuke, but the Uchiha remained silent, watching her with an unreadable look.
"As for my dream..."
Hana exhaled softly, as if weighing her next words.
"My dream is to see the Hyūga rise beyond outdated traditions, to make my clan strong, not through blind obedience, but through true understanding of our potential."
Her voice never wavered, but there was something fierce in her eyes now.
A few students murmured. Even Daigo-sensei raised an eyebrow, though he said nothing.
I studied her carefully. That wasn't the answer of someone merely upholding family pride. That was someone who saw cracks in the foundation, someone who wanted to fix them.
Interesting. Although from what I know about the future, her dream will remain just that. A dream. Well until after the fourth Shinobi war.
That's in the future though. Nothing to concern myself over. Though, I think she could be of potential help to me.
Thoughts for later.
Eventually, it was my turn.
I stood up slowly, keeping my expression blank.
"Haruki Murakami," I said. "I like reading, training, and challenging myself. I dislike people who waste my time."
I paused for a moment.
"As for my dream… I have none."
The room went silent for a moment.
Some students looked confused. Others, like Rensuke, looked at me with mild curiosity. Daigo-sensei simply sighed inaudibly if his lip movement were anything to go by before shaking his head.
He had probably been expecting that answer from me.
I was, after all, the black sheep of the Academy.
The outlier.
Some kids aimed for greatness, whether through family prestige, personal ambition, or sheer determination. Others just wanted to get by.
Me?
I simply wanted to figure things out as I went. No lofty goals. No grand declarations.
Just progress.
Once introductions were done, Daigo-sensei stretched and clapped his hands.
"Good. Now that we know a bit about each other, we're moving on to combat practice. Meet me at the training field."
A ripple of excitement passed through the class. I exhaled quietly, already mentally preparing myself.
This was going to be a long day.
…
The area of the Academy's training field we were privy to now was a wide, open area with patches of dirt and grass, lined with wooden training posts and scattered obstacles.
Some teachers were already present, overseeing the other classes that were finishing up their own drills.
Daigo-sensei called us to attention.
"For today's exercise, you will be paired up for sparring. The goal is to test your skills, observe weaknesses, and get used to actual combat. These are not matches to determine a winner, so don't waste my time trying to show off."
His eyes landed on a few students who had already looked way too eager.
Then, he started assigning partners.
When my name was called, I was paired with—
"Murakami. Rensuke. Step forward."
Ah.
Of course.
The Uchiha. Just my luck.
I let out a slow breath and moved to stand across from him.
Rensuke met my gaze with an unreadable expression. There was no arrogance, just quiet confidence. He was analyzing me already.
Good. I appreciated that.
The other students gave us space, forming a loose circle. Some were whispering.
An Uchiha against him?
I ignored them.
"Start," Daigo-sensei said, stepping back.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then, without warning, Rensuke dashed forward.
Fast.
His hands blurred through hand seals—Tiger, then Ram.
Fire Release? No, feint.
I shifted my stance, already anticipating a switch-up.
Sure enough, he dropped the seals mid-motion, closing the distance with a sudden kick aimed at my ribs.
I twisted while deflecting his strike with a forearm block. The force sent a sharp vibration through my bones, but I adjusted quickly.
Rensuke didn't pause though. He flowed into the next attack, a quick jab toward my gut. I stepped back, letting the punch graze past, then retaliated with a sweeping kick.
He leapt over it, flipping backward into a safe position.
Our eyes locked.
There was a beat of silence, then—
Rensuke smirked.
"Not bad," he murmured. "For someone without a clan."
I didn't respond.
I kept my footwork sharp, measured. Rensuke shifted with me, his stance fluid, honed.
The whispers around us faded as we clashed again.
I could feel the weight of eyes on me.
They didn't expect much, did they? A clanless kid, an orphan nonetheless, against an Uchiha. The outcome should've been obvious. But here I was, matching him blow for blow.
A question lingered in my mind.
Should I win?
Defeating an Uchiha in front of everyone?
That wouldn't just set a precedent, it would put a spotlight on me, one I wasn't sure I wanted just yet. I had no desire to be the talk of the Academy, no reason to stand out more than I already did.
But if I lost, if I let myself be defeated, then what?
Would that keep me in the shadows, make things easier for me? Or would it just cement the idea that without a clan, I'd always be second-best?
Tch.
No time for that now.
Rensuke moved again, fast, nearing a blur as he closed the distance. His left hand shot out—a feint, I realized a second too late. His right fist came in, landing against my ribs.
Pain flared, but I didn't hesitate. I twisted with the blow, rolling with the impact instead of resisting it. My foot lashed out, catching him just above the hip.
He stumbled, but only for a fraction of a second.
A second was all I needed.
I stepped forward, planting my elbow into his chest. Not enough to seriously injure, but enough to knock the wind out of him. His body bent slightly with the force, but he recovered faster than I anticipated, grabbing my wrist and twisting.
I gritted my teeth as my arm was yanked, but instead of resisting, I let my body move with it, flipping mid-air and breaking free before landing a few feet away.
A brief pause.
The class had gone silent.
I didn't need to look to know they were staring. This wasn't a fluke. This wasn't luck. I wasn't supposed to be able to keep up.
But I was.
Rensuke exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulder. There was no frustration in his expression, no anger. If anything, he looked...intrigued.
"You're better than I expected," he admitted.
I didn't answer. Words weren't needed here.
He lunged again, this time his strikes sharper, more precise. I blocked the first punch, deflected the second, but his speed was increasing, his movements more refined.
My own strikes landed too, he wasn't untouchable. But neither was I.
A solid hit to my stomach nearly knocked the breath from me. My knee found his side in retaliation. A sharp jab from him nearly caught my jaw, but I twisted, barely avoiding it.
We moved like that, back and forth, two opposing forces crashing into one another, neither fully dominating, neither fully yielding.
Until—
Something changed.
Rensuke's breath hitched. His body tensed ever so slightly.
Then his eyes—
A flicker of red.
Sharingan.
A single tomoe spun within his irises, and I immediately recognized what that meant. His perception, his reaction time—it had just gone up, hasn't it?
I exhaled through my nose. This just became more annoying.
His next strike came, and I saw the difference immediately.
Where before I could anticipate and react, now he was reading my movements faster than I could adjust. His fist slipped through my defenses, striking clean against my shoulder. My counterattack missed by inches.
Another hit, another near-dodge.
He was adapting in real time, his movements sharpening.
So this is what it means to fight an Uchiha.
I braced myself, shifting my stance.
And then—
"Enough!"
Daigo-sensei's voice cut through the air like a blade.
Rensuke froze. I pulled back immediately, stepping away.
The tension in the field lingered, but the fight was over.
I watched as Rensuke blinked, his Sharingan fading back to black. He looked at me, expression unreadable. Then, he exhaled, straightening.
"That was a good fight," he admitted.
I nodded once.
Daigo-sensei walked over, eyes scanning both of us. "That's enough for today. You two pushed it further than necessary." His gaze flickered to Rensuke's face, then mine. "No injuries, but I'd rather not have anyone leaving bruised and battered on the first day."
A beat of silence.
Then, a murmur from the watching students.
Somewhere in the crowd, I heard someone whisper, "That was insane."
I bet it was.