Chapter 12: Morikawa Naoki's Homeroom Career is Far from Ideal

"Alright, everyone is here."

Up on the podium, Morikawa Naoki placed his folder down on the desk, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote his name on the chalkboard. 

"My name is Morikawa Naoki, Chūnin. Starting today, I am your homeroom teacher."

The chalk scraped softly across the board, producing a faint, powdery scratching sound.

Finishing his name, Naoki turned around and swept his gaze across the youthful faces seated below.

"Meeting you all for the first time, let me start with a self-introduction. The food I like is saury, and I dislike overly sweet pastries. My dream..."

Naoki paused, locking his cold gaze with the students.

"My dream is to teach you well. To ensure every single one of you successfully graduates in six years and becomes a competent shinobi. Barring any unexpected circumstances, I will be spending the next six years of your ninja academy life alongside you. I hope we can get along well during these six years. I also hope that every single one of you can walk out of here and become truly useful shinobi."

Having said that, Naoki looked back out over the classroom.

Among this cohort of students, there were quite a few individuals who demanded his extra attention.

Nawaki, grandson of the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, and younger brother of Tsunade. Once he matured, the prestige and lingering protection left behind by the First and Second Hokages would likely all fall upon this child's shoulders. When he had walked through the door just moments earlier, this kid had clearly noticed him, yet remained seated, chattering endlessly with the person beside him. One could tell at a glance that he was not the settled, well-behaved type.

Nara Shikaku, Yamanaka Inoichi, Akimichi Chōza.

The next generation of the Ino-Shika-Chō trio, and future heads of their respective clans. The Nara, Yamanaka, and Akimichi clans had always stood together through thick and thin, remaining unswervingly loyal followers of the Hokage. In the future, these three would undoubtedly hold vital positions within Konohagakure.

And then, there were these two Uchiha girls.

Uchiha Ruri, younger sister of Uchiha Naori. Long black hair draped over her shoulders, dressed in simple, solid-colored garments with no ornaments or embellishments save for her clan crest.

This young girl was quite pretty, but she kept her head lowered the entire time, refusing to interact with any of her classmates. Sitting there quietly, she didn't give off a serene vibe; instead, she radiated an inexplicable, gloomy aura.

Uchiha Ami, younger sister of Uchiha Reto. Her style was the complete polar opposite of Uchiha Ruri's. Short hair, clean-cut facial features, a spirited air dancing across her brows and eyes; at first glance, she almost looked like a boy. She carried herself with vibrant energy and a heavy dose of arrogance.

One of them sat at the front left of the classroom, while the other sat at the back right. Neither looked at the other, as if desperately wishing they could stick another wall right down the middle of the room.

Before the two had even enrolled, the Uchiha clan had specifically sought out Morikawa Naoki, asking him to keep a close eye on them out of fear that their youth and impulsive nature might spark a conflict. To put it bluntly, they were afraid the two would start brawling right inside the classroom.

Aside from them, there was a child from the Sarutobi clan, two children from the Hyūga clan...

Naoki let out an internal sigh.

His class was certainly going to be a lively one. Even before the very first class had officially begun, he already had a vague premonition that his future teaching career would be far from peaceful.

Oh, right.

And there was this boy, Shingo.

Naoki's gaze finally settled on Shingo. For reasons unknown, Principal Sarutobi Toshiji had personally come over to brief him about this child, specifically asking him to provide a bit more care and supervision.

From the moment Naoki walked through the door, Shingo had been observing him.

He wore the standard black uniform issued to ninja academy instructors, his expression was stern and cold, and a very faint scar marked the right corner of his mouth. What drew Shingo's attention even more, however, was his left hand.

Shingo noticed that ever since entering the room, Morikawa Naoki performed almost every single action using his right hand. His right hand held the lesson plans, his right hand pushed the door open, and his right hand held the chalk to write. His left hand remained quietly tucked inside his sleeve, moving very little.

Using his Mind's Eye, Shingo peered over and sure enough, a ferocious scar extended all the way from Naoki's left forearm down to his palm.

A veteran who suffered heavy injuries on the battlefield and stepped down to become an instructor?

With a hand injured like that, will it affect his ability to teach students?

Glancing at Nawaki, who was still pulling faces at him beside him, Shingo quickly pressed the thought down. Putting aside the fact that a Chūnin, even missing a hand, was more than qualified to teach fresh recruits like them, simply the fact that he had been assigned as Nawaki's homeroom teacher meant this Naoki undoubtedly had some real skill.

Naoki opened the attendance roll and spoke up:

"Next, I will call names according to the roster. When your name is called, please stand up and introduce yourselves. Tell everyone your name, your favorite things, your least favorite things, your dream, and what kind of shinobi you want to become. Listen closely, you'll all be classmates from here on out."

With that, he glanced at the first name on the list.

"Uchiyama Toshihiko."

In the second row, a boy with a bowl cut and slightly round cheeks stood up.

Shingo looked over.

Unfamiliar. Not a character who appeared in the plot.

"I... my name is Uchiyama Toshihiko. I like fried tofu and shuriken practice, and I hate cleaning the drainage ditch in front of my house. My dream is to become a shinobi who can earn enough money to support my family, so my mom and dad won't have to work so hard anymore."

As his voice trailed off, several children in the classroom snickered.

Uchiyama Toshihiko's face flushed red instantly.

Naoki nodded, affirming with a tone of approval:

"A very good dream. Sit down."

Following him, several other unfamiliar names were called. The self-introductions of these children were simple, filled with an innocent reverence for shinobi and bright expectations for the future.

What they didn't know was that by the time their generation graduated, the Second Great Ninja War would be breaking out in full force. Nor did they know how many of the people sitting here today would still be present if a class reunion were held ten years down the line.

"Nawaki."

Hearing his own name, Nawaki sprang to his feet with irrepressible eagerness, jerking his chair back with enough force that it almost tipped over.

"My name is Nawaki!"

The moment he spoke, his voice was a full notch louder than the preceding children.

"I like red bean rice, and I hate bitter melon, that stuff is impossible to make taste good no matter how you cook it! My dream is to become Hokage! To become a powerful shinobi just like my grandfather, Senju Hashirama, and protect the village!"

When Nawaki finished his introduction, a brief silence fell over the room.

Quite a few children turned to stare at him.

Good grief, the First Hokage's grandson.

Nawaki didn't seem to feel he had said anything earth-shattering. The moment he finished introducing himself, he sat right back down and nudged Shingo with his elbow, his face plastered with smug pride.

The look on his face seemed to say: Well? What'd you think, buddy? Wasn't that a pretty good speech?

A few more children whose names didn't feature in the original story followed.

Then came the turn of the Ino-Shika-Chō trio.

"Nara Shikaku. I like quiet places and shogi. I hate overly troublesome things. My dream... I suppose it's to become an outstanding shinobi."

Nara Shikaku moved with a slow, sluggish pace, looking thoroughly devoid of energy. That lazy demeanor was a 90% match for Shikamaru in Shingo's memories.

"My name is Yamanaka Inoichi. I like growing flowers, and I hate impolite people. My dream is to become a shinobi who can lend a helping hand whenever comrades are in need."

Yamanaka Inoichi stood up straight and proper, his voice hitting a moderate pitch, with a well-measured smile gracing his face.

"My name is Akimichi Chōza. I like grilled meat, and I hate wasting food. My dream is to become a shinobi who can stand ahead of his comrades."

The moment Akimichi Chōza finished his introduction, he dropped back into his seat, fished a small piece of dried meat out of his pack, and tossed it into his mouth to chew slowly. Even as some malicious chuckles drifted over from nearby, he paid them not the slightest heed.

A short while later, Naoki called out the name Uchiha Ruri.

"Uchiha Ruri."

Uchiha Ruri stood up, keeping her head lowered as before. She stated her name and immediately sat back down.

The classroom fell quiet for a moment. Naoki stared at her for quite a while. In the end, he could only let out a helpless sigh in his mind.

Ah, a problem student.

He didn't pressure her to give a proper introduction; if the child didn't want to speak, she didn't have to. Inwardly, Naoki raised this young girl's priority attention level yet another notch before scanning for the next name.

"Uchiha Ami."

Uchiha Ami rose at a leisurely pace. Lifting her chin, she swept an unmasked, disdainful gaze across the entire classroom from top to bottom.

"My name is Uchiha Ami. I like growing stronger, and I hate weaklings. Especially people who lack any real skill yet walk around wearing a stinking attitude all day long."

The moment those words left her mouth, quite a few students in the room couldn't help glancing over toward Uchiha Ruri on the other side.

Uchiha Ruri, however, showed zero reaction. She simply stared calmly down at her own desk, as if something fascinating were hidden right there on the wood.

Naoki felt his head swell to twice its size.

Wonderful, right on day one...

No, wait, I should say right in the very first class.

Seeing that Uchiha Ruri didn't react at all, Uchiha Ami let out a dissatisfied "Tch" before withdrawing her gaze and continuing.

"My dream is to become the strongest person in the Uchiha clan."

She sat down immediately after speaking, her face retaining that deeply arrogant expression.

The Uchiha really are overflowing with talent, aren't they?

Shingo thought with a touch of irony.

Good grief, a gloomy deadpan girl paired with a tomboyish brat, and the two of them clearly harbor a grudge against each other.

With a pair of archenemies like that in the class, there wouldn't be any shortage of good shows to watch in the future.

Shingo meant to check if everyone else looked as shocked as he felt. He turned his head toward Nawaki, only to find the boy staring straight at Uchiha Ami with glazed, unblinking eyes.

Unable to resist, Shingo poked Nawaki in the ribs with his finger.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Nawaki jumped in a start.

"Snap out of it. Keep staring like that and you're going to start drooling."

Realizing the teasing intent hidden in Shingo's words, Nawaki's face flared red.

"W-Who's drooling!"

He raised his voice, though it clearly lacked conviction.

Shingo didn't tease him any further.

After a few more students, it was finally Shingo's turn.

"Shingo."

Shingo stood up.

Before he even had a chance to open his mouth, a very faint "Tch" drifted from the front of the classroom.

In any other context, such a tiny sound wouldn't have drawn anyone's attention. But right then, Naoki had just finished calling Shingo's name, and everyone else had gone quiet, waiting for this classmate named Shingo to stand up and introduce himself.

Against that pin-drop background, Hyūga Yūji's instinctive reaction instantly pulled every eye in the room right toward him.

Realizing something was amiss, Hyūga Yūji immediately lowered his head and put on a facade as if nothing had happened.

Shingo naturally noticed it as well, yet the smile on his face remained completely unchanged.

"My name is Shingo. I like training in taijutsu, and I hate dilly-dallying. My dream is to become a powerful shinobi and protect the people around me."

This little speech was rather ordinary; most of these students' dreams revolved around making money, protecting their families, or protecting the village.

Naturally, this wasn't Shingo's true answer in his heart. Becoming a powerful shinobi and protecting those around him was indeed something he desired. But if we are talking about a true dream, it ought to be becoming the strongest in the ninja world and seizing control of his own destiny.

Still, there was no need to voice such thoughts to others, let alone within a classroom. Who knew if some old man who loved peeping with crystal balls was watching this place right now?

It was Nawaki's first day at school; Shingo refused to believe Hiruzen wouldn't spare a moment to drop in with a look.

That being the case, it was far better to utter the most direct, straightforward, unswerving, precise, and foolproof words possible.

In other words, words aligned with the Will of Fire.

Besides, Hiruzen would undoubtedly focus the vast majority of his attention on Nawaki anyway.

It was best for him to just act like an inconspicuous background character.

What Shingo didn't know was that his guess was correct.

Yet it wasn't entirely right either.

At that exact moment, a certain heavy smoker was indeed sitting in the Hokage's office, stealing a moment of leisure to watch them through his crystal ball.

Shingo could never have imagined that Hiruzen's attention toward him far exceeded anything he anticipated.

Watching Shingo calmly finish those words, Hiruzen puffed on his pipe, slowly exhaling a plume of white smoke.

"That boy Shingo is truly exceptional. A fine child with the Will of Fire burning in his heart."

Beside him, Danzō glanced up at the crystal ball and remarked dismissively:

"Hiruzen, since when did you become so naive? The kid has been through so much yet acts this calm, do you honestly think everything he's displaying right now is real? The more he looks like he embodies the Will of Fire, the more it shows he's hiding something inside, and the more vigilant we ought to be."

Hiruzen didn't take offense at the words. He knew Danzō's analysis was entirely objective. If one didn't bother to understand the child and only looked at Shingo's self-introduction while linking it to his past experiences, anyone might generate similar suspicions.

What Danzō didn't know, however, was that Hiruzen had kept a close eye on Shingo throughout this past period. He always felt that because of his own past indulgence, allowing the Hyūga clan to handle the theft of the Byakugan on their own terms, Shingo had been forced to endure hardships he never should have faced.

Therefore, once the uproar surrounding the Uchiha faction temporarily subsided, he had instructed the Anbu to monitor Shingo's situation. He also harbored the thought of offering the child some assistance if an appropriate opportunity arose.

Over this past month, a good number of the C-rank and D-rank missions executed by Shingo and Might Duy had been specifically routed to the pair because he had quietly dropped a word to the mission desk's supervisor. Those missions were ideal for training taijutsu, lacked overly complicated entanglements, and offered quite generous rewards for low-tier jobs.

In the reports submitted by the Anbu, everything regarding how Shingo interacted with those around him had fallen into his field of vision. Whether it was his neighbors on Kitaki Street, Might Duy, or his behavior toward villagers while out on missions...

Piecing all those fragmented details together was enough to show that Shingo was not the sort of person whose heart was cloaked in darkness, consumed by hatred for the entire world.

In fact, Hiruzen was utterly convinced that the Will of Fire burning within Shingo's heart surpassed that of many people residing in Konoha.

"After suffering through an ordeal like that, holding a bit of resentment in your heart is the most normal thing in the world. Being able to lock away words best left unsaid and learn to mask your emotions is just part of growing up."

Hiruzen tapped the ash out of his pipe, retrieved a fresh pinch of tobacco to pack into the bowl, and let his appreciation for Shingo show plainly in his tone.

Instead of hurrying to light his pipe, he leaned closer to the crystal ball, watching the small interactions passing between Shingo and Nawaki, a faint smile unconsciously tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Besides, this child is still willing to keep looking forward. As long as his heart isn't consumed solely by hatred, that is more than enough."

Watching Hiruzen practically climb inside the crystal ball, Danzō silently twitched the corner of his mouth.

While he felt Hiruzen was making far too big a deal out of this brat, he had to admit that Hiruzen's words were not entirely devoid of reason. If Shingo, after undergoing the extraction of his eyes, removal from the registry, and expulsion from the clan compound, had run around venting his grievances like some clueless, reckless brute, then the question wouldn't be whether he had the Will of Fire, it would be whether he had a brain at all.

To endure and to conceal, that was what made a true ninja.

Decent talent, decent mindset, and genuine darkness lurking within his heart.

Yet Danzō felt very little interest in Shingo. He lacked a Kekkei Genkai, lacked clan secret techniques, and hadn't displayed any specialized talents in research, espionage, intelligence, or sealing arts. A taijutsu specialist of this caliber was a wretched fit for the Root.

If Shingo still had his Byakugan, it would be a different story.

The Hyūga, the Byakugan...

X-ray vision, long-range reconnaissance, such abilities were simply too perfect for the Root. It was just a pity the Hyūga main house would never allow anyone to join the Root, and he dared not absorb branch members controlled by the Caged Bird seal into his ranks.

Sighing inwardly, and ignoring Hiruzen, who was still clucking in fascination over the crystal ball, Danzō lowered his head and resumed processing the documents stacked before him.