Two days passed quickly, and today marked the beginning of the academy again.


    Kazeo completed his morning workout, got ready, and made his way to the academy. Arriving a few minutes early, he entered the classroom, the familiar chatter of students filled the air. Some kids excitedly shared stories of their vacation, their voices bubbling with energy. Others stood in small groups, whispering in hushed tones, their expressions ranging from amused to serious. A few students sat alone, either lost in thought or simply uninterested in the noise around them.


    Kazeo walked to his usual seat at the back and settled in. His eyes scanned the room, immediately noticing changes—two unfamiliar faces among the crowd. One sat alone, their posture relaxed but observant, while the other engaged in quiet conversation with Ishikawa.


    ''New students?''


    Before he could dwell on it, the classroom door slid open and Okabe entered. Conversations died down as the students instinctively straightened in their seats. But the true shift happened when an older man stepped in behind him.


    The headmaster.


    Every student immediately stood up, their backs straight.


    The old man studied them, his gaze sharp, his posture commanding. Unlike Okabe, whose presence was strict but familiar, the headmaster’s presence carried weight—a quiet authority that demanded attention.


    "Sit down."


    The students obeyed without hesitation. His voice was calm, yet there was an edge to it, not harsh but the kind that made you listen.


    "I hope you all had a productive break," he said, his voice steady. "Because this year will be different than previous one."


    A flicker of unease passed through some students. His gaze swept across the room, pausing on a few students as if assessing them.


    "The things you will learn from now on… will not be easy. They will be the foundation of whether you survive in the real world or not."


    A few students swallowed nervously.


    "In normal classes, these things are taught in the fifth year. But you are not in normal classes. You are in the elite class and that means you must be prepared earlier than the others."


    His gaze settled on certain students, pausing slightly on Kazeo, Ishikawa, and a few others.


    ''Is he evaluating us?'' Kazeo wondered.


    "We also have two new students in your class," he said, glancing towards them. "One from the Uchiha clan and other from the Kurama clan."


    Murmurs spread across the room.


    "They were the top two in the normal first-year ranking," the headmaster explained. "They are taking the place of Daichi and Inuzuka Shibi who… failed."


    At that, the room tensed. Some students darted glances at each other. A few shifted in their seats.


    The unspoken message was clear to all students again.


    ''If you fall behind, you will be replaced.''


    "Let me make something very clear," the headmaster continued, his voice calm but firm. "Just because you made it here does not mean you will stay here. The academy does not carry dead weight."


    Some kids stiffened.


    "But those of you who work hard, those of you who prove yourselves… will be rewarded."


    His eyes glinted.


    "At the end of this year, different departments will come to this class. Intelligence Division, Sensory Division, Medical Corps and even the Hokage’s office. They will be watching you. The best of you will be chosen and trained by them."


    A mix of excitement and nervousness spread through the students.


    "Getting selected means access to knowledge beyond your current level. It means guidance from some of the strongest shinobi in the village. It means… a better chance at becoming a Jōnin—or at the very least, a Special Jōnin."


    He let his words hang in the air.


    A low murmur rippled through the room again.


    "And for the top student," the headmaster added, his voice carrying a slight edge of finality, "a personal award from the Hokage, as usual. The top ten will also receive prizes that will benefit them in the long run. So, train hard—this year, the theory exams will hold less weight."


    Kazeo felt a gaze on him.


    He glanced to the side—Ishikawa was looking at him, a smirk playing on his lips that was likely saying. "You ranked first because of theory. Let’s see if you can do it again."


    Kazeo didn’t react outwardly. He simply smiled slightly.


    Ishikawa’s smirk twitched, but he said nothing.


    The headmaster straightened, his expression darkening slightly. "Of course… there is also the matter of your training."


    A pause.


    "You must master the Transformation Jutsu by the end of this year. If you do not, you will be demoted. No matter how well you perform in other exams."


    A heavy silence followed.


    Some students paled. Others clenched their fists. One girl gritted her teeth, determination flashing in her eyes.


    "Do not waste your time," he warned. "Your time here will determine your future. Use it well."


    Without another word, he turned and left.


    Okabe stepped forward. "You heard the headmaster," he said. "Try to be in the top 10. Train hard. Do not slack off."


    His gaze sharpened.


    "And most importantly… master the Transformation Jutsu. No exceptions."


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    His eyes lingered on a few students before he added, "The new subject teachers will give some demonstrations today. Pay attention."


    With that, the lesson began.


    But Kazeo barely heard it.


    His mind was already elsewhere.


    ''The top ten students will be awarded with something that will help them in the long run..''


    His fingers tapped lightly against his desk.


    ''Interesting. What exactly would it be? A weapon? A rare scroll? Access to an elite training session?''


    The possibilities sent a flicker of anticipation through him.


    After nearly an hour, the sound of the bell finally rang through the academy, signaling the end of the lesson.


    ------


    Next Class -


    The classroom buzzed with the chatter of young students, excitement filling the air.


    This was the first demo class—their first lesson in Fūinjutsu, the mysterious and often overlooked art of sealing. Some students had heard stories about how the Fourth Hokage used it to defeat the Nine-Tails, while others barely knew more than the fact that it involved strange symbols.


    The door slid open with a quiet ''shff'' and nearly all noise died down.


    A tall man with graying hair and a composed demeanor stepped in. His forehead protector rested on a white band, giving him the air of an experienced shinobi. He walked to the front of the room and tapped the board lightly, silencing the class.


    "Good morning, students. My name is Arata and I will be introducing you to the basics of Fūinjutsu today." His voice was calm yet firm, carrying a weight of knowledge.


    There was a brief silence before a boy in the back shot up his hand, his excitement barely contained. "Sensei! Isn’t Fūinjutsu just about writing weird symbols?"


    A few students giggled.


    Arata’s lips quirked in amusement. "That’s what most people think. But let me ask you this—what happens when a kunai is thrown at you?"


    "We dodge!" a girl replied.


    "We block it!" another boy added.


    "Good," Arata nodded. "Now, what if I told you that Fūinjutsu could make the kunai disappear before it even touched you?"


    A ripple of curiosity spread through the room.


    Before anyone could ask, Arata turned and picked up a blank scroll from his desk. With precise strokes, he began drawing symbols using a brush and ink, explaining as he worked.


    "Fūinjutsu is the art of sealing and unsealing. With the right symbols, we can store objects, trap enemies, enhance our abilities, or even control chakra flow. The symbols you see here are called Sealing Formula—they are like instructions for chakra, just like how hand signs guide ninjutsu."


    As he finished the last stroke, he placed a kunai on the scroll and pressed his hand against the symbols.


    Poof!


    The kunai vanished in a puff of smoke.


    The students who haven''t seen a storage scroll before gasped and their voices echoed through the room.


    "Whoa!"


    "Where did it go?!"


    Arata smiled and tapped the scroll again. Another puff of smoke, and the kunai reappeared.


    "This is a basic Storage Seal. It allows us to store weapons or items and retrieve them when needed. Shinobi use these to carry large weapons without the burden of weight."


    The students murmured excitedly, some already trying to copy his movements in the air.


    "Now, before you get ahead of yourselves, let me make something very clear—" Arata''s voice grew firm, and the class quieted down. "This year, you will NOT be making seals."


    A disappointed groan rippled through the students.


    "But sensei—!" one boy protested.


    Arata raised a hand, silencing them.


    "Fūinjutsu isn''t like throwing a kunai or making a hand sign. If you mess up a seal, it won’t just fail—it could explode in your face or destroy what you''re trying to store. That’s why the first step to learning Fūinjutsu is not making seals, it''s understanding signs and perfecting calligraphy."


    He turned back to the board and sketched several basic Fūinjutsu symbols.


    "This year, you will focus on recognizing and writing these symbols. Your calligraphy must be precise—because a single misplaced stroke can render a seal useless. Your chakra control must be stable—because too much or too little chakra can make a seal malfunction."


    Kazeo felt a twinge of impatience, but he kept his expression neutral. He understood the importance of control, but waiting an entire year just to write symbols felt slow.


    A few students still looked disappointed, but others, especially the smarter ones, nodded in understanding.


    Arata’s eyes swept across the room, reading their expressions. "Patience," he said, folding his arms. "That’s the first rule of Fūinjutsu. If you can’t handle that, you’re not meant for it."


    And with that, the real lesson began.


    The lesson continued, with Arata breaking down the origins of sealing techniques and their uses.


    Kazeo finally raised his hand. "Sensei, what if we don’t want to wait until next year? What if we want to learn how to make seals now?"


    A few heads turned toward him, clearly curious.


    Arata gave him a knowing smile. "Eager, aren’t we? That’s good, but Fūinjutsu is not like learning Fireball Jutsu from a scroll. You can’t just practice it in your backyard and hope for the best."


    "But… what if we find a scroll? Where can we learn more?" another student asked.


    Arata’s expression turned serious. "Most Fūinjutsu knowledge is restricted and they aren’t sold in regular shops like kunai or shuriken"


    He tapped the board lightly, as if emphasizing his next words. "If you truly want to study seals beyond this class, you have only two options:


    One—get recommended by a Chūnin or higher-ranked instructor to join the Fūinjutsu Department.


    Two—become a Genin. After that, you can apply for limited access to beginner-level Fūinjutsu scrolls."


    The classroom buzzed with murmurs again. Some students looked disappointed, some seemed deep in thought.


    "Why is it so restricted?" another student asked.


    Arata’s smile was calm, but his eyes held a sharp glint. "Because seals aren’t just tools—they’re weapons. If you don’t understand what you’re doing, you could end up sealing your own chakra, destroying your gear, or worse—setting off an unstable explosion. Fūinjutsu is a double-edged sword, and the village doesn’t allow just anyone to wield it."


    Kazeo tapped his fingers against his desk, his mind already working. ''So that meant if I wanted to go deeper into Fūinjutsu, I’d either need a recommendation… or I had to become a Genin first.''


    The class for Fuinjutsu passed that way and it was time for next class.


    -------


    The next class felt different . Instead of the usual sparring mats, chakra control exercises or theory classes, the students found themselves in a dimly lit room with a single candle at the center. The air smelled faintly of ink and sandalwood.


    Kazeo and his classmates exchanged confused glances. This wasn’t a normal lesson.


    At the front of the room, their instructor leaned against the desk with a relaxed posture. Unlike their usual battle-worn teachers, he was too well-dressed—a silk-lined vest, a confident smirk, and eyes that held a glint of amusement.


    "Good morning, little ninjas" he greeted, his voice smooth like flowing water. "Welcome to a class that doesn’t teach you how to throw a kunai, but how to make sure you never have to. Today, we begin your lessons in Deception and Seduction."


    Some students chuckled. Kazeo simply narrowed his eyes, waiting for the real lesson to begin.


    The instructor stepped forward, casually flicking a kunai into the air and catching it without looking. "Let’s get something straight—this isn’t about ‘flirting’ or ‘looking pretty.’ Deception and seduction are tools, just like ninjutsu and taijutsu. The ability to lie convincingly, manipulate expectations, and control emotions is what separates good shinobi from dead ones."


    The room grew silent.


    "Everything you do, everything you wear, everything you say—creates an image in people’s minds." The instructor tapped his head. "Make people see what you want them to see, and you control how they react to you."


    He walked toward one of the students—an average-looking boy with an uncertain expression. "What’s your name?"


    "Uh… I-I’m Daiki."


    "Alright, Daiki." The instructor snapped his fingers. "From now on, you’re not Daiki. You’re Daiki the Noble’s Son—rich, arrogant, untouchable."


    Daiki blinked. "But I’m not—"


    "Doesn’t matter." The instructor grinned. "Stand up straight. Tilt your chin up slightly. Look down at everyone like they owe you something."


    Daiki hesitated, then adjusted his posture. The change was immediate. He still looked like himself, but the way he carried himself suddenly screamed ‘privileged brat.’


    "Now," the instructor continued, "if a bandit were to see you in the streets, they’d think twice before touching you. Why? Because you look like someone who has connections. Someone dangerous."


    The students muttered among themselves, realization dawning on them.


    "This is your first lesson," the instructor said, voice calm but sharp. "Learn to control how others see you. If they see what you want them to see, you’ve already won half the battle."


    "Now, deception isn’t just about looking strong," the instructor continued. "Sometimes, the best way to win… is to look weak."


    He gestured to Kazeo. "Come here."


    Kazeo stood up, cautious. The instructor suddenly slumped his shoulders, lowered his gaze, and made his voice tremble.


    "P-please, don’t hurt me," he whimpered, taking a step back like a frightened villager. His entire body language changed—gone was the confident shinobi; now he looked like a helpless merchant.


    Then, in a flash—he moved. His hand struck out, grabbing Kazeo’s wrist in a sudden lock, twisting it with a painful jerk. Kazeo barely managed to counter, pulling away in time, but the message was clear.


    The students froze.


    The instructor straightened up, his smirk returning. "Lesson two—never underestimate a weak-looking opponent. And when needed, become one yourself."


    The tension in the room was thick, the students now hanging onto his every word.


    "This year, you’ll be working on two things. First, you’ll train in calligraphy—because the way you write, even the way you hold a brush, can tell people about you. And second, you’ll learn to control your body language. If you can walk, talk, and act the way you want others to see you, you can start shaping how they react to you."


    A student raised a hand. "Sensei, what if we want to learn more than that?"


    The instructor smiled, but his eyes held something sharp. "Deception techniques beyond the Academy are restricted."


    "Why?" another student asked.


    The instructor’s voice lowered. "Because some shinobi have lied so well, even their own comrades never knew who they really were. Some changed their faces, infiltrated enemy villages, and became ghosts—forgotten by history."


    The students shivered.


    "If you truly wish to master deception beyond what’s taught here…" The instructor’s grin returned, almost playful. "You’ll need a recommendation to join the Intelligence Department. Or, if you survive long enough, the ANBU."


    Kazeo felt a small thrill. ''So there were secrets beyond this class.''


    "Now, some of you might be thinking—‘If deception is so useful, why isn’t every ninja a master of it?’" He gave them a knowing look.


    The class remained silent. That was exactly what some of them had been wondering.


    "It’s because deception is a skill, just like any other. Some people have a knack for it—they lie without effort, control their emotions naturally, and can fool even skilled shinobi. Others…" He smirked, eyeing one student who had completely failed at looking noble boy earlier. "Well, let’s just say they’d die trying to play an undercover role."


    Some students laughed nervously.


    "In the end, your talent in deception will depend on a few things:


    Your natural acting ability – Can you lie with a straight face? Can you make people believe your words?


    Your emotional control – Can you hide your true feelings when under pressure?


    Your intelligence and adaptability – Can you think fast and adjust when things don’t go as planned?


    Your training – Even those without natural talent can get better with practice. But only a few will ever reach the level of true masters."


    A student raised a hand. "Sensei, does that mean some of us will never be good at deception?"


    The instructor grinned. "Let me put it this way—some of you will be great actors, others will be terrible liars, but everyone can at least learn to hide their weaknesses so they don’t get exploited. Even if you never become a master of deception, you should at least learn to not be fooled easily."


    "Now," the instructor clapped his hands, breaking the tension, "for today’s first real exercise—walk across the room. But try to make yourself look as weak or as strong as possible while doing it."


    As the students stood and tried, Kazeo’s mind was already racing.


    The class continued with more examples and practical exercises, each revelation making Kazeo more and more aware of how much he didn’t know.


    By the end of it, he took a deep breath, feeling more centered than before.


    "This class… was definitely worth my time."


    Similarly, the rest of the day passed with new lessons like—flexibility training and yoga sessions.