The morning broke with a biting cold, typical of late autumn in Konoha. The main courtyard of the Ninja Academy, normally a bustling chaos of running children and shurikens hitting wooden targets, was plunged into an expectant and tense silence.
A circular area fifteen meters in diameter, made of packed dirt, had been cordoned off by stakes and thick ropes. The air exuded the moisture of the night frost. At the windows of the academic building and squeezed against the metal fence, dozens of senior students held their breath. The news that the "masked civilian boy" would take an early graduation practical test against the feared Kakashi of the Sharingan had paralyzed the school.
In the front row of spectators, Naruto Uzumaki gripped the fence wires so tightly his knuckles turned white. The Jinchūriki's face was pressed against the metal. "This is completely unfair!" the blond grumbled aloud, kicking the base of the fence.
Inside, however, Naruto's indignation was pure frustration. He swallowed hard, feeling a bitter pang in his chest. How did he do it? he thought, his blue eyes fixed on the solitary figure in the center of the courtyard. He barely speaks in class, has no clan, sits in the corner, and just reads... How is he going to become a real ninja before me? I'm the future Hokage! I can't be left behind!
A few steps away from Naruto, Sakura Haruno and Ino Yamanaka whispered tensely. "I knew his theoretical grades were perfect, and everyone knew about that weird internship at the hospital..." Sakura murmured, perplexed, adjusting her hair. "But facing an elite Jōnin? He's going to get crushed." "It's suicide," Ino agreed, shaking her head. "They should have just found a team for him. Kakashi-sensei won't show mercy just because he's a kid."
But the most dense and heavy reaction that morning didn't come from the loud blond or the girls. It came from the most isolated corner of the fence.
Sasuke Uchiha kept his arms crossed, his posture rigid as an ice statue. On the outside, his black eyes showed only calculated indifference and coldness. Inside, however, his clan's pride burned like acid poured on an open wound.
Sasuke vividly remembered the day, years ago, when Matsuri had thrown him to the grass after Shisui's death. Without throwing a single punch, merely redirecting his fury. And now, watching the pink-haired boy breathing calmly in the center of the courtyard, Sasuke analyzed his posture. He has no clan. He has no bloodline. He has no absurd chakra reserves, the Uchiha heir rationalized, grinding his teeth. But there isn't a single opening in his stance. His feet are perfectly grounded... If this guy, a random civilian, passes this test today, it means I'm being left behind in the dust. I won't accept that.
In the center of the arena, indifferent to the piercing stares and whispers, Matsuri waited.
Kakashi was late, as expected. For Matsuri, those long minutes of waiting in the cold wind were not an annoyance, but an opportunity to align his mind. Closing his eyes, he stabilized his Nature Breathing, feeling the oxygen fill his lungs and nourish his chakra network.
His twenty-nine-year-old mind reviewed the main reason he had demanded this early graduation, beyond pure survival. There was an unavoidable logistical factor: money and independence.
Until now, Matsuri had lived under the Haruno family's roof. But his training was becoming increasingly dangerous, and the tactical secrets he was about to develop required thick walls and isolation. His plan was clear: to buy his own house.
The internship at the Konoha Hospital over the last twelve months already provided him with a reasonable income, which he obsessively saved, living on the absolute minimum. Joining the Genin Corps meant entering the official shinobi payroll. Completing D-Rank and C-Rank missions would give him regular payouts far superior to a civilian salary, and most importantly, it would give him the legal right to loot battle spoils (weapons, enemy scrolls, rare materials) and sell them on the black market or in the village's tool shops. Every Ryo saved was a brick for his autonomy. He needed his own lair.
A puff of smoke and the rustling of dry leaves snapped Matsuri out of his financial thoughts.
Ten paces away, Kakashi Hatake materialized in the center of the courtyard. The Jōnin was slouching lazily, his body weight resting on one leg. One hand rested in his pants pocket; the other held the inseparable Icha Icha Paradise.
With his free hand, Kakashi took two small silver bells and casually tied them to the belt loop of his tactical vest. The metallic sound echoed through the silent courtyard.
"Sorry I'm late, a black cat crossed my path so I had to take the long way," Kakashi lied, his voice monotone and drawling, without even taking his eyes off the page of his book. "Iruka-sensei must have already gone over the rules, but I'll repeat them to make sure there are no misunderstandings."
Kakashi turned a page.
"You have ten minutes to take one of these bells from my waist, Matsuri. You can use whatever weapons you want, whatever tricks you know. But I'm warning you now: come with the true intent to kill, or you won't even scratch the hem of my pants. If you fail, you go back to the study desk until next year."
The crowd swallowed hard. The pressure emanating from Kakashi, even while pretending to read an adult book, was crushing. He clearly underestimated an Academy student's ability to even make him sweat.
Matsuri didn't answer Kakashi. The time for talking had been left behind.
The boy reached behind his back and drew the solid wood replica of his Chakra Sword. The movement was smooth, silent. He slid his right foot back, slightly bending his knees, assuming the low, fluid stance of the Interception Katas.
The micro-flow of chakra instantly isolated the sound of his sandals against the dirt. Matsuri merged with the silence of the courtyard, his dark, cold eyes locked on the pocket of Kakashi's vest. No emotion. No ego. Only the pure calculation of a predator waiting for inertia to break.
The cold wind blew harder, tearing a dry leaf from the branch of the large oak tree near the fence. The leaf twirled in the air, slowly descending between the genin and the veteran.
"Whenever you're ready," Kakashi murmured, without blinking.
The leaf touched the ground. The wind stopped.
In the exact millisecond of impact, inertia was broken, and Matsuri vanished from everyone's sight.
[Author's Note] Hello everyone, I hope you are enjoying Matsuri's journey! Writing and planning each chapter takes a lot of time, dedication, and effort (even more so dealing with hand pain from the keyboard!). If you like my work, believe in the potential of this story, and want to encourage me to keep posting frequently, please consider supporting me with any amount. Every bit of help makes a huge difference and motivates me a lot! ☕ To support (PIX[Mercado Pago] or PayPal): [email protected] Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and for all the support! ❤️