Suppressing an entire class with a legitimate reason was not an easy task.
Or rather—suppression itself wasn't difficult. Finding a justifiable excuse was.
After all, both the Ninja Academy and Konoha as a whole were places governed by rules. Small scuffles were acceptable, but one person beating down an entire class wasn't something that could just "happen."
This was a thirty-student Academy class, not a four-man mission cell.
One-versus-four was called genius.
One-versus-thirty was called a monster.
So Mirai—thoroughly trained by Hagoromo—knew how to wait for the right opportunity.
The early Academy curriculum focused on extremely basic theory. The very first thing taught to aspiring ninja was chakra extraction and control—the foundation of everything.
But these lessons posed no difficulty for Mirai.
In fact, even Naruto had no trouble keeping up.
For children from established ninja clans, chakra extraction and control were second nature. Thanks to family traditions, many of them could already do this before ever entering the Academy.
For civilian-born children, however, this process was far more difficult.
From first learning what chakra was, to extracting it, to controlling it, and eventually performing even the simplest techniques—this entire journey often took two to three years.
That gap was one of the many advantages clan ninja possessed.
By the time the Academy finished explaining chakra theory and began adding practical taijutsu classes, an entire spring had passed.
And during the third taijutsu lesson, the first trial sparring between students and instructor finally began.
"Wait, Iruka-sensei," Mirai suddenly spoke up before class began.
"I think it would be better for us to practice against classmates instead. A teacher puts too much pressure on everyone."
After all—he was a chūnin.
That was scary.
"Classmates?" Iruka was puzzled. The idea made sense, but where would he find experienced peers to act as practice partners?
"I can be the opponent," Mirai said calmly.
"I'm fairly confident in taijutsu."
Her true intention slipped out.
By default, Iruka was supposed to demonstrate and guide the students himself. But now someone had volunteered.
"I've trained in taijutsu systematically since I was young. I know how to hold back," Mirai added.
"And your build doesn't really match ours, Sensei."
"That's right!"
The students immediately agreed, noisily.
Between sparring with a tall chūnin and fighting a peer, the latter was far more appealing.
Of course, among them were also students with less wholesome intentions—those who wanted nothing more than to "teach Mirai a lesson."
In a class, not everyone liked her. At this age, liking or disliking someone didn't even require a reason.
Normally, Mirai was always flanked by two older, silent bodyguards.
But now?
She had walked straight into the arena herself.
A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
After all, reckless behavior requires cooperation from both sides.
This kind of one-by-one sparring was technically Iruka's responsibility. After some thought, however, he nodded and agreed.
From rumors alone, Iruka didn't doubt that Mirai was stronger than her peers. As for restraint—he wasn't worried. He'd be watching closely, and Mirai was usually well-behaved.
The naive teacher genuinely believed the Fourth Hokage's daughter would wholeheartedly help her classmates.
To be fair, Mirai was very restrained.
She wouldn't kill anyone.
She wouldn't cripple anyone.
She would just make them hurt.
Or rather—she struck precisely where it hurt the most.
What Iruka misjudged was one thing:
Mirai wasn't just Minato's daughter.
She was also Kushina's.
Thus, on a stifling, windless summer afternoon, a tragic tale unfolded—
one that would make witnesses grieve and listeners weep.
"First up—Nara Shikamaru," Iruka called out, starting with the laziest student.
As it turned out, truly smart people did exist.
Mirai's identity wasn't publicly announced, but it wasn't hidden either. Those who knew, knew.
Shikamaru instantly raised one hand, clutched his stomach with the other, and groaned convincingly.
"Sensei… my stomach suddenly hurts. I request to skip."
"Again?" Iruka was skeptical at first.
But Shikamaru was sweating, and this time it didn't look fake.
Iruka believed him.
After all, basic trust between people was important.
Shikamaru had gone all in—this was an elite-level performance.
Ironically, he worried for nothing.
Mirai didn't beat everyone senseless.
With certain classmates, she genuinely guided and corrected them, feeding moves and acting like a miniature instructor.
Iruka was thoroughly deceived.
Her true principle was simple:
When it's time to strike—don't hold back.
By the time Iruka realized something was wrong, nearly half the class had already been brutally defeated.
He was stunned.
Someone using only taijutsu had knocked out this many students in such a short time?
Naruto was among the fallen.
Logically, he should have been part of Mirai's "inner circle."
Unfortunately, his stubborn competitiveness and goldfish-level memory made him formally challenge her.
So he was formally defeated.
That day left the class with deep, irreparable psychological trauma.
And from that day forward, miraculously—
No one ever bullied Mirai again.
Taijutsu class turned into an afternoon of misery.
After school, Mirai returned home in an exceptionally good mood.
Unexpectedly, Hagoromo was waiting outside.
"Where's Naruto?" he asked.
"Probably training on his own," Mirai replied.
They didn't need to be together all the time—Naruto was actually very diligent.
"Never mind," Hagoromo said after a moment.
"Kimimaru, Haku—you two go home first. Mirai, come with me."
He sent the two back without explanation and took Mirai away.
After all that "healthy physical activity," Mirai was actually hungry.
But she followed him without complaint.
"Hagoromo… is something about to happen?"
His expression hadn't changed much—but Mirai could sense the subtle difference.
"If I had to put it into words," Hagoromo said slowly,
"something very big is about to happen. After tonight, the question of who Konoha's greatest clan is… will finally be settled."
Mirai didn't fully understand.
In Konoha, there were two great dōjutsu clans, long at odds with each other.
Both claimed to be the strongest.
One excelled in individual combat.
The other in perception and coordination, with an exceptionally high rate of dōjutsu activation.
Which was stronger had always been debatable.
What Hagoromo meant was simple:
After tonight, it would no longer be a choice between two.
There would only be one left.
"What are we going to do?" Mirai asked.
"To see something," Hagoromo replied.
"Something that will help you understand what Konoha truly is.
What a ninja truly is.
What is real, and what is false.
What is gentle… and what is cruel."
Reality, witnessed firsthand, was the most powerful lesson.
Even if it was far too cruel for a child of her age.
Still, Hagoromo decided she should see it.
Only then would she learn which words were truth, which were lies—
And how much of the so-called Will of Fire was truly worth believing.
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