Hikaru looked at Jiraiya's sly grin and instantly saw through him.
With a chuckle, he shook his head and said,
"Jiraiya, you really think I'd remove your seal over something so trivial? You're too naïve."
Jiraiya's smile stiffened as disappointment flashed across his face—but he didn't give up.
Grinning playfully, he continued,
"Aw, come on, Hikaru. You're a generous guy, right? No way you'd hold a grudge over a little thing like this."
"I haven't done any field research in ages… I'm going stir-crazy here. Have a heart and just remove the seal, yeah?"
Hikaru stared at Jiraiya's pitiful expression and couldn't help but laugh inwardly.
He knew full well that Jiraiya wasn't truly remorseful. He was just trying to find a loophole.
So, with a dry chuckle, Hikaru simply ignored him.
Seeing his plea met with silence, Jiraiya grew anxious.
He opened his mouth to protest again—only for a cold snort to cut him off.
He turned—and froze.
Uchiha Madara had appeared without a sound and was now glaring daggers at him.
Madara's pride and arrogance were infamous. In his eyes, peeping was beneath contempt.
And now, this man who dared call himself a shinobi—and worse, a teacher at the academy—was standing on the same level as him?
Unacceptable.
In Madara's view, the best way to deal with an eyesore… was to eliminate the problem at the source.
His gaze toward Jiraiya brimmed with icy contempt. Decades of battlefield killing intent seeped into the air.
Jiraiya's back went cold, sweat beading across his brow.
Just when the tension reached its peak, Hashirama arrived—his cheerful voice cutting through the pressure like sunlight through fog.
"Hahaha! Looks like I'm not late after all," he said, clapping Madara on the shoulder.
Just like that, the tension dissolved.
Madara withdrew his killing intent with a scoff and shot one last frosty look at Jiraiya—his glare silently saying: Watch yourself.
Then he turned to Hashirama.
"Not late. Let's go."
Hashirama nodded, strode to the graduation classroom, and knocked on the door.
As the two legendary figures entered, a wave of excitement swept through the classroom.
Even if they couldn't match the current Fifth Hokage, Hikaru, in fame, the presence of the God of Shinobi, Hashirama, and the Demon of the Battlefield, Madara was awe-inspiring.
To be chosen by them? It was every student's dream.
Outside, Jiraiya exhaled a huge sigh of relief.
Hikaru, watching his face, found it hard not to laugh.
Shaking his head, he too stepped into the classroom.
And when he did, the atmosphere exploded.
The entire class erupted in gasps and whispers.
What's going on? Why are Madara Uchiha, Hashirama Senju, and the Fifth Hokage all here together?!
But soon, their shock gave way to silent awe.
As the three men stood at the podium, every pair of eyes turned toward them—burning with admiration and hope.
Even if they knew the odds, every student silently wished to be chosen by one of them.
Hikaru, Hashirama, and Madara stood side by side, observing the eager faces before them.
For Hikaru and Hashirama, this warmth was familiar.
But for Madara, it was something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.
He was momentarily lost in memory—of his early years as clan leader, when people had looked at him the same way.
But after Konoha was founded, all that admiration had slowly shifted to Hashirama.
Madara had faded into the shadows, watching his friend become Hokage, watching the village choose someone else.
His expression darkened for a moment.
Then—he smiled.
Being looked at with such hope… didn't feel bad at all.
Hashirama, ever perceptive, caught the change in his friend's demeanor.
Though he didn't fully understand it, he was genuinely happy.
Aside from Izuna and himself, Madara had always kept others at arm's length.
But now… perhaps he was finally beginning to let go of that burden—and accept the village.
And maybe… just maybe… the village would accept him back.
Then Hikaru stepped forward.
Smiling, he swept his gaze across the room and announced clearly:
"As you all probably know, we're here to assign squads. So I'll keep it short—Minato Namikaze, Pakura, Kushina Uzumaki—you three, come with me."
At the sound of their names, the trio lit up with joy.
They stood immediately and followed Hikaru with excitement and pride.
Hikaru gave a satisfied nod and led them toward the exit.
Just before stepping through the door, he paused, turned back to Madara and Hashirama, and said:
"Oh—one more thing. After you've split into squads, meet me at Training Field One. I've prepared a special test that all three squads will need to complete together."
Both men raised their brows at the surprise announcement but offered no objections.
They nodded.
Only then did Hikaru turn and walk out, his new team following closely behind.
***
Hikaru led Minato, Pakura, and Kushina across the village until they arrived at a wide, empty field.
Training Field One.
No one else was here—it felt as if the entire space had been reserved just for them.
Standing at its edge, Hikaru felt nostalgia well up inside him.
This place had once been his haven—his escape from class, his battleground for trial and growth.
Here, he and his friends had sweated and sparred, slowly forging themselves into real shinobi.
And it was here that he had stepped onto the path… that would one day make him Hokage.
After rising to that title, Hikaru had quietly repurposed this field into his private training ground.
Though technically open to the public, most villagers understood the unspoken rule and stayed clear—leaving the place to their Hokage.
Of course, if the women had known he was getting all sentimental again, they would've teased him with a smirk:
"Sweat? That was all us. You were just sunbathing."