"Minato?" Tsunade was momentarily taken aback, then quickly realized. "You're the jōnin instructor leading this year's class?"
"Yes, senpai." Minato smiled and nodded. "I'm the instructor of this year's Team Seven. And you, senpai?"
"What a coincidence. I am as well," Tsunade replied frankly.
"Oh?" A trace of surprise flickered across Minato's face, though his smile remained unchanged. "I didn't expect senpai to personally lead a team as well. This truly is…"
He seemed unable to find the right word for a moment, but the astonishment in his eyes was unmistakable. For this legendary kunoichi, who had kept a low profile in recent years, Tsunade-hime, to step forward again and serve as a jōnin instructor—among this year's students, there was likely someone quite extraordinary.
"Enough. It's a hassle." Tsunade waved her hand, cutting off whatever polite remark he might have made. Her gaze swept across the empty training ground. "You chose this place—planning to test your students here later?"
"Yes, senpai." Minato nodded. "I just didn't expect senpai to choose this location as well. Since senpai arrived first, I can take my students elsewhere later."
Under normal circumstances, the assignment of jōnin instructors and the arrangement of their initial testing grounds would have been coordinated in advance during routine meetings at the Hokage Office to avoid conflicts.
But Tsunade's situation was special. She had not attended any jōnin meetings at all. In fact, she had only learned a week earlier that the Academy was holding graduation exams and had gone directly to the Third Hokage to firmly demand becoming a jōnin instructor.
As a result, she had no knowledge of the other jōnin's testing arrangements. By sheer coincidence, she and Minato had chosen the same location.
"No need to make it that troublesome," Tsunade said casually. "The place is big enough. You conduct your test, I'll conduct mine."
Minato pondered slightly, then broke into a bright smile and complied readily. "If senpai doesn't mind, then I'll gratefully accept."
Tsunade nodded, as if recalling something, and asked casually, "By the way, what method are you planning to use to test those newly graduated brats?"
Minato took out two bells tied with red cords from his ninja tool pouch and answered, "I plan to use these. The traditional bell test—within a limited time, the three of them must cooperate to take the bells from me. It allows for an initial assessment of their individual strength and tactical thinking, but more importantly, it tests whether they can quickly form effective teamwork under pressure."
"The bell test, huh…" Tsunade looked at the pair of familiar iron bells, her gaze momentarily unfocused, as if traveling through time to see the sly grin of a certain old man from many years ago.
She quickly snapped back to her senses, curled her lip, and her tone carried undisguised disdain. "This again. The same old trick passed down from that old man. It's been decades and they still won't change it up—boring."
Hearing this, Minato not only didn't get upset—he laughed out loud instead. "Senpai is right. The test isn't exactly novel. But the reason classics become classics is precisely because, under simple rules, they often expose the most fundamental problems: teamwork, trust, and trade-offs. For rookies who've only just been formed into a team and are still carrying the Academy mindset, it might be exactly appropriate."
"As you like." She waved her hand, her tone still casual.
"Then what method do you plan to use to test them, senpai?" Minato asked with curiosity.
Tsunade pondered for a moment, her gaze sweeping across the empty training ground, as if she were genuinely thinking it over. "I haven't fully decided yet. I'll first take a look at what those brats are made of, and then we'll see."
At the same time, on another road leading to Training Ground Nine—
Shinichi walked at an unhurried pace. The morning streets were sparsely populated.
"Shinichi-kun?"
Shinichi turned his head and saw Kurenai coming from another fork in the road.
Today she had changed into a dark training outfit that made movement easy. At her waist, she wore a standard-issue straight sword neatly in place. Her jet-black long hair was tied into a crisp ponytail, revealing a smooth forehead and those calm red eyes.
"Kurenai-san, morning." Shinichi nodded in greeting, slowing his steps to walk alongside her.
"Morning." Kurenai drew closer, her steps light.
Glancing at the sword at Kurenai's waist, Shinichi said casually, "When did Kurenai-san start practicing the sword?"
In his impression, this future genjutsu jōnin didn't seem to have much to do with swordsmanship.
Kurenai tilted her head slightly, and a faint, understated smile appeared on her face. "About three years ago, I think."
She paused, as if recalling something amusing, and the smile deepened a little. "Shinichi-kun, you might not have noticed yourself, but back when you were at the Academy, every day at noon—without fail, rain or shine—you practiced swordsmanship on the field. It actually sparked a lot of classmates' interest in kenjutsu. Quite a few people later signed up at some swordsmanship dōjō in the village, or started practicing on their own in private."
What she said was true—though it wasn't the whole story.
More than three years ago, during the end-of-term practical combat assessment, Shinichi had cleanly and decisively defeated the widely acknowledged prodigy Kakashi with powerful swordsmanship.
That scene gave Kurenai—who had been present as a first-year spectator at the time—a tremendous shock.
From then on, she unconsciously began paying more attention to that same-year student named Higashino Shinichi.
Watching him single-mindedly pouring out sweat every morning and noon. Watching him interact with others—gentle and polite, yet never awkward. Watching him grow stronger again and again through each assessment and the rumors that spread about him—some subtle influence quietly took root.
She began training more diligently. Not only practicing the clan genjutsu passed down in her family, but also starting to try gripping swords she had not been familiar with before, experiencing that focus of gathering spirit and strength into a single point.
Imitation is perhaps the earliest form of admiration. She admired that diligence and discipline, and longed for that clear and resolute sense of purpose.
This attention and quiet learning gradually made her more composed and hardworking as well. Even her father, Yūhi Shinku, was surprised by his daughter's sudden surge of enthusiasm for basic physical training and sword practice.
Of course, these deeper and subtler psychological traces were not things Kurenai would easily speak of to others.
She simply summarized it as a natural change brought about by the positive influence of an outstanding classmate.
After hearing this, Shinichi showed slight realization. He truly had never thought that his routine training could have such an effect on others.
"So that's how it is."
He nodded and said, "Sword training really can temper the will and improve bodily control. It's helpful for a ninja's overall abilities. If you're interested in it, Kurenai-san, that's a good thing."
Kurenai gave a soft "mm," then suddenly said, "Shinichi-kun… since everyone in the class is now a teammate." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "From now on… you can just call me Kurenai."
Hearing this, Shinichi tilted his head and glanced at her, then nodded readily. "Alright. Then you can just call me Shinichi as well."
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---