Autumn in Konoha had a way of turning the air crisp and heavy at the same time. The orange leaves of the great oaks surrounding the Academy drifted lazily onto the stone paths, a silent countdown to the end of an era. Inside the classroom, the atmosphere was far less serene.
Iruka Umino slammed the classroom door shut with a force that rattled the windowpanes. His expression was a dark, thunderous mask that silenced the whispers of the students instantly. Behind him, Naruto Uzumaki trailed in, his shoulders slumped so low they looked disjointed. His eyes were unfocused, staring at the floor as if searching for a way to phase through it.
"You. To the back," Iruka snapped, pointing a trembling finger at the rear wall. "Stand there for the rest of the day. Do not move. Do not speak. Do not breathe loudly."
Naruto opened his mouth, a familiar retort bubbling up, but one look at Iruka's face—flushed red and pulsating with a visible vein on his temple—told him that resistance was a death sentence. He trudged to the back and pressed his back against the cold plaster.
It wasn't entirely Naruto's fault, though he was the perfect catalyst for chaos. Ever since the Third Hokage had personally intervened in his upbringing, the boy had been under a microscope. Every minor infraction made twice the noise. Today, however, Naruto had outdone himself. He had managed to spill a gallon of red industrial paint in the equipment hall, missed three consecutive assignments, and "forgotten" his regulation kunai set during the morning drill.
Iruka had spent the better part of the afternoon bowing and apologizing to ANBU guards and Academy janitors who had to scrub the red stains out of the floorboards. When Naruto finally settled into his spot at the back, Iruka turned to the chalkboard, forcing his voice into a professional tone. But his patience was a fraying rope.
As his gaze swept across the desks, his blood pressure spiked again. The room felt... cavernous. Empty.
"Where," Iruka began, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "is Evan Kamiyo?"
Silence.
Iruka scanned the rows again. It wasn't just Evan. In a classroom this large, absences usually blurred into the background, but today they stood out like missing teeth. Especially since they all belonged to the same circle of influence.
Evan Kamiyo was gone. Shikamaru Nara was gone. Choji Akimichi, Shino Aburame—also gone. And Naruto, while technically present, was a shell.
The "Five Troublesome Names."
Iruka pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache blossoming behind his eyes. Sleeping in class, turning in blank papers, distracted stares at the clouds, chronic laziness, and high-tier pranks. Individually, they were a handful. Together, they were an administrative nightmare.
Just as Iruka was about to shout for the hallway monitor, Hinata Hyuga stood up. Her movement was so small and hesitant that it almost went unnoticed, but she spoke with a quiet sincerity that managed to cut through the tension.
"Sensei… Evan-kun and the others were… they were sent to practice their individual ninjutsu," she said, her fingers twisting together. "The graduation assessment is only days away. They said they needed the space to focus."
Iruka paused. He looked at Hinata, then at the empty seats. He knew she was likely covering for them, but he also knew she was right. Graduation was the ultimate deadline. The village needed new Genin, and the Academy couldn't afford any more delays.
"Fine," Iruka muttered, turning back to the board. "But they'll be taking the written portion twice as long tomorrow."
Naruto, still standing at the back, scowled. "Idiot," he whispered, though it wasn't clear if he was talking about Iruka or himself.
Sasuke Uchiha, seated in the front row with his arms crossed, snorted quietly. His eyes remained fixed on the front, but the slight twitch of his jaw showed he was listening. Sakura Haruno glanced back with a flicker of interest; she was always entertained when the "slackers" got into trouble, so long as it didn't involve Sasuke.
"Kamiyo and the others skipping class doesn't excuse you, Naruto," Iruka said coldly, without turning around. "If you want to wear that forehead protector, you still have to master the Three Body Techniques. No shortcuts."
Naruto clenched his fists, the fabric of his orange jacket creaking, but he stayed silent. He knew the pressure was real.
In a secluded, shaded corner of the Academy grounds—far behind the tool sheds where the grass grew long and the instructors rarely ventured—five figures were enjoying a very different kind of afternoon.
Evan Kamiyo lay back casually against the gnarled roots of an old cherry tree, his hands folded behind his head. Beside him, Shikamaru Nara was flat on his back, eyes tracking the slow, rhythmic drift of white clouds.
Choji Akimichi sat nearby, the rhythmic crunch-crunch of a bag of sour cream and onion chips the only consistent sound in the clearing. Shino Aburame sat perfectly still on a nearby rock, his insects performing a low-altitude patrol beneath the shade of his coat.
"You actually thought of sealing a collapsible chair into a storage scroll just for lunch breaks," Shikamaru said, not moving a muscle. "That's kind of genius, Evan. Painful to set up, but genius."
"Too much work to stand up every time Iruka walks by," Evan replied lazily. "Efficiency is just organized laziness."
Choji nodded, his mouth half-full. "Chairs are overrated. As long as there's shade and a snack, I'm good."
Naruto, who had managed to slip away from his "standing" punishment through a Shadow Clone that was currently boring Iruka to death in the classroom, paced restlessly in the center of the clearing.
"Why does Iruka-sensei always single me out?" Naruto kicked at a loose stone. "Evan skips three days a week and nobody says a word! Shikamaru sleeps during the exams and still passes! It's not fair!"
Shikamaru sighed, a long, weary sound. "It's because you stand out, Naruto. You wear bright orange, you scream about being Hokage, and you have the subtlety of a falling brick. Evan? Evan moves like he isn't even there. People only notice him when he wants to be noticed."
"That's not helpful!" Naruto yelled.
"It's accurate," Shino added, his voice a low drone. "Visibility is the enemy of the shinobi. You invite the gaze, so you suffer the consequences."
Evan opened one eye, looking at the frustrated blonde boy. "Naruto, yelling at the wind won't change the weather. Just survive a few more days. Once we graduate, Iruka stops being your warden. Graduation solves most of these petty problems."
Naruto stopped pacing. He looked at the four of them, then looked up at the sky. He let out a long, deflated sigh and sat down next to Choji. Without a word, Choji offered him a chip. Naruto took it, the salt stinging his tongue.
Silence settled over the group. It wasn't an awkward silence, but the heavy, contemplative quiet of people who knew they were standing on the edge of a cliff.
"In the blink of an eye," Shikamaru murmured, his voice sounding older than his years, "we'll be Genin. No more naps in the yard. No more free lunches. Just missions and dirt."
Choji stopped chewing for a second. Shino's insects stirred, a faint buzzing vibration coming from his sleeve. Even Naruto went quiet, his usual bravado momentarily quelled by the reality of the situation.
The Academy days—boring, repetitive, and annoying as they were—represented the last of their childhood. After this, the world wouldn't care if they were "just kids."
Later that evening, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and deep oranges. Evan walked alone through the village, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Kuro, his ninja dog, trotted silently at his side, his ears swiveling to catch the sounds of the evening market.
Graduation Season was here. To the civilians, it was a time of celebration and festivals. To Evan, it was the calm before a monumental storm.
He knew what the next few months held. Team assignments would be made. Roles would be cast. Real missions would take them beyond the safety of the stone walls. For the first time, the kunai they carried wouldn't be for practice targets.
He lifted his gaze toward the Hokage Monument, where the stone faces of the past leaders stared out over the village. Three years. In three years, the peace of Konoha would be shattered. The Chunin exams, the invasion, the defection of Sasuke—all of it was lurking in the future like a predator in the tall grass.
The world wasn't going to stay peaceful much longer. The balance of the Great Nations was a brittle thing, and the cracks were already starting to show.
Evan felt a spark of lightning chakra dance across his fingertips. He wasn't the same boy who had entered the Academy years ago. He was faster, smarter, and far more lethal than his classmates could imagine.
Whether the village was ready for the coming chaos or not—he was.