Inside the classroom, Iruka stood at the podium as he always did, surveying the students in their seats. His voice was warm.
"Starting today, you're all third-year students. And I'll officially begin teaching you ninjutsu."
He paused, picking up a stack of papers. "But first, let's hand back your end-of-semester exam results. Yukinoshita, would you mind distributing these?"
Yukino rose without hesitation and walked to the podium to collect the report cards.
Two years had passed since their arrival, and she'd long since taken on the role of class academic representative. It only made sense. In the entire class, she was the only one who could match Sakura Haruno in written exams.
Iruka had actually wavered between the two of them at first. But Sakura's head was so full of Sasuke these days that class duties barely registered.
After some deliberation, he'd handed the position to the more disciplined Yukino.
The report cards went out one by one.
Sasuke, who had yet to sacrifice his entire clan for a power-up and was still stuck with a single-tomoe Sharingan, wore a look of undisguised satisfaction. His overall scores were first in class. Again.
Makoto couldn't have cared less about grades on paper. He didn't even glance at his.
Airi, on the other hand, clutched his report card with shining eyes. "Makoto, you're second! That's amazing!"
He pressed a hand gently onto the top of her head, signaling her to sit down and be quiet.
Grades meant nothing.
The only thing on his mind was the approaching Night of the Massacre, and whether he could walk away from it with a Sharingan.
He'd already drawn up a plan.
The risk, though, was just a tiny bit catastrophic.
Once the last report card was handed out, Iruka clapped his hands and pulled everyone's attention back to the front.
"Today is your first day as third-years. I'm going to give you a formal demonstration of ninjutsu. We'll start with the Three Basic Jutsu. Everyone, head to the training grounds."
At the word "ninjutsu," a subtle shift passed through the transmigrators: Yukino, Hachiman, Eriri. Their expressions tightened just slightly.
After more than two years in this world, they understood. The ninja here were nothing like the shadowy assassins they'd imagined. These people wielded genuine supernatural power.
Thirty-odd students filed out to the grounds in short order.
Iruka took his position at the front and began his explanation. "Gather your Chakra, form the correct hand seals, then release the Chakra at a steady rhythm. That's how ninjutsu takes shape. The timing of your seals and the ratio of Chakra output are critical. Even a slight deviation will cause the technique to fail."
Before the words had fully left his mouth, a certain spiky-haired blond was already yelling.
"Iruka-sensei! Enough talking, just show us already!"
Iruka rolled his eyes. "Naruto, you are the last person in this class who should be skipping the lecture."
His hands were already moving even as he complained.
Transformation, Clone, Substitution. The Three Basic Jutsu flowed from him in seamless succession, and every pair of eyes in the yard went wide.
Even Eriri, privileged upbringing and all, couldn't help staring.
Beside her, Yukino was no different.
If I master this kind of power and bring it back to reality, Mother and my sister might finally look at me differently.
The reason she'd insisted on moving out and living alone in the first place was the suffocating pressure at home. A domineering mother. A sister who outshone her at every turn. The refrain she'd heard her entire life: "Why can't you be more like your sister?"
In a way, her situation wasn't so different from Sasuke's, living under the long shadow of a certain weasel.
Nearby, Chizuru's eyes gleamed with equal intensity.
Before being transported to this world, she'd been planning to start her part-time gig as a rental girlfriend. She'd even prepared a disguise and a fake name: Mizuhara Chizuru.
But if she could learn the Transformation jutsu, all of that would become trivially easy. She wouldn't even need makeup.
Iruka dropped his stance and addressed the class. "Now it's your turn. Start with the most basic Transformation jutsu and try to take on my appearance.
At your current Chakra levels, you'll manage two or three attempts at most. Don't push yourselves. Forcing a jutsu when your Chakra is depleted is extremely dangerous."
The entire morning was spent on the training grounds, attempt after attempt.
The standout, predictably, was Sasuke Uchiha. His transformation was nearly flawless, an almost perfect replica.
No one needed to guess. This clearly wasn't his first time using ninjutsu. He'd probably learned the basics at home long before enrolling at the Academy. Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique included, for all anyone knew.
Close behind him were Sakura Haruno and Yukino, the two academic powerhouses, both holding steady at over eighty percent accuracy. And unlike Sasuke, they were clearly performing ninjutsu for the very first time.
"Yukinoshita, that's incredible!" Chizuru said, genuine admiration in her voice.
Eriri stood nearby in silence, but her mind churned with unease.
She remembered the notification the Reincarnation Game's system had shown them upon arrival: everything learned in this world could be brought back to reality.
Her gaze drifted to Hachiman, then to Yukino, and finally settled on Makoto.
Among all the transmigrators, the one who worried her most was always this training-obsessed Grindlord.
She wasn't alone in looking his way. Several others had turned to watch him too. After two years, Makoto's reputation as a maniac who never stopped training was firmly cemented.
His hand seals were clumsy, visibly stiff. A soft poof, and the transformation took shape.
Standing in his place was a bloated, lumpy version of Iruka that looked less like a teacher and more like someone from the Akimichi clan.
"Bahahaha! Makoto, you're terrible!" Naruto howled without a shred of restraint.
Over the past two years, the two of them had gotten along well enough, frequently running into each other at Ichiraku Ramen to 'group-buy' cheap meals.
Yukino fought to keep her composure. The faintest curve tugged at the corner of her lips despite her best efforts.
Just as I thought. Nothing but a muscle-brained idiot.
Airi rushed over to console him. "It's okay! For a first time, this is really good!"
Hearing this slightly ambiguous comfort, Makoto rolled his eyes inwardly.
Naruto's laughter, the faint condescension from the others... none of it touched him.
The truth was, he'd mastered the Transformation jutsu a full year ago.
Back when he first met Rock Lee, the boy had shared the complete hand seal sequences for all Three Basic Jutsu without hesitation.
Lee had no talent for ninjutsu himself, but he paid fierce attention in class and had every bit of theory memorized cold.
For the sake of the plan to take the Sharingan, though, Makoto could not afford to reveal that he'd already mastered Transformation. Not even a hint.
A week slipped by in a blink.
After the afternoon's shuriken training wrapped up, the final bell rang on schedule. Iruka raised his hand for quiet. "Alright, pack up your things in the classroom and head home. The village is conducting a crisis response drill tonight. Everyone get home early and stay off the streets. If you're caught wandering around after dark, the Uchiha Military Police will pick you up."
Then his gaze shifted to the boy in the corner. "Oh, and Sasuke? Stay behind. Your shuriken form was a bit off today. I want you to put in some extra practice."
The instant those words landed, Makoto's eyes went sharp.
There it is.
The Night of the Massacre.