Chapter 2
He didn't know why, but suddenly, he felt quite nervous. Iruka had had a few weeks to prepare for this day, but somehow, standing before the doors to his classroom, he didn't know what to do. What should his first words be? How should he introduce himself? And other shit like that.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to wing it. Standing out here wasn't going to do much. Sliding the doors open, he entered the classroom with his head held high. He faced his students, only for a blackboard eraser to fall on his head, dusting his brown hair with white chalk.
"Hahaha, he fell for it." An obnoxious laugh rang through the classroom before others joined in. "I got him! Hahaha!"
Iruka turned to the loudest voice and recognized the blonde hair. His gaze drifted across the room. Some of the kids tried to hide it, but even then, they snickered, while others burst into laughter without shame. Only one boy didn't let out a sound—his dark hair made him just as recognizable.
"Nice to meet you," Iruka said with a friendly smile as he walked to the desk. The moment he placed a hand on it, it collapsed beneath his touch.
"Hahaha!" Again, that same obnoxious laughter echoed across the room.
"My name is Iruka Umino." He ignored the noise and calmly wrote on the blackboard. "I'll be your homeroom teacher and combat instructor from today onward. I hope we can get along well."
Just as he finished writing his name, the blackboard toppled forward and crashed onto him. Laughter erupted, even louder this time. No one even tried to hide it now, except that same boy, still staring out the window with bored disinterest at everything around him.
Dusting himself off and righting the board, Iruka met their eyes with a serene smile before locking eyes with the blonde troublemaker. He let them laugh their asses off and waited—calm, patient—until it all died down.
"Now, usually, I'd ask each of you to introduce yourselves," Iruka began. "But I already know every single one of you. And not just your names, but everything. What you have eaten today, what your dynamics with your families are, who are and aren't your friends. Things that your parents haven't yet told you."
He paused.
"Like Naruto Uzumaki—the prankster—who drank expired milk this morning. That'll catch up with him in about half an hour."
"…What?" The blonde boy stopped laughing.
"Or Sakura Haruno," Iruka turned to the pink-haired girl, trying to stifle her laughter and act all proper. "You're insecure about your forehead, and even though you're best friends with Ino Yamanaka, you hate her. Because deep down, you think you're stuck living in her shadow."
"Hey! Who are you to say that!?"
"Sit down, Ino Yamanaka," Iruka said as he turned to the girl who stood up. "That friendship wouldn't have lasted long anyway, not with both of you crushing on Sasuke Uchiha."
"How dare you—!"
"Let it go, Ino."
"Shikamaru Nara," Iruka continued, shifting to the boy slouching at his desk. "I know how much you like to sleep and laze off. So, here's the deal: forget about it. On my watch, you won't even get the chance to lower your head."
"Choji Akimichi," Iruka turned to the chubby boy next to Shikamaru. "No eating in my class. Not during lessons, not even during breaks. You'll eat lunch like everyone else, nothing more and nothing less.
"Kiba Inuzuka—don't even think about skipping class again. The consequences will be far worse than you can imagine."
He let the silence hang.
"Should I continue?" Iruka asked, scanning the room. "I will repeat myself. I know everything there is to know about each of you. Other teachers might consider your circumstances or your clan's status. That's why you never respected them. But I don't care about any of that. I don't care about your names or your bloodlines. While I'm in this classroom, I'm your sensei. That means my word is final—and always correct."
"I'm not scared of you." Naruto stuck out his tongue with a childish scowl.
"And why would you be?" Iruka smiled kindly. "After all, I am here to teach you, not to scare you. But you shall learn, or you shall not even be here. All I care about is your skills and dedication. If you listen to me, I shall teach you how to get stronger, how to achieve your goals, and most importantly, how not to make mistakes and survive on the battlefield. All I ask you in return is to wake up to the reality. You are no longer a civilian but a shinobi in training. And you shall act like one, or you shall leave this academy and stop wasting everyone's time and resources."
He still smiled, but by now, they all realized it never reached his eyes. Nobody dared meet his gaze anymore—not even Naruto. He gave them the first taste of a shinobi world, and from now he will watch how they react to it. As the first days passed, Iruka thought it was going quite well.
…
"Threatening children? Are you out of your mind?"
The principal's voice boomed as he slammed his palm onto the desk. The fat, middle-aged man was sweating heavily as he ranted. Wiping his forehead with a silk handkerchief matching his gold-trimmed clothes.
"Do you realize that one complaint from them, and you're finished? You don't even need to worry about the clans anymore—civilian families have as much power as any of them. Your only job is to supervise, follow the curriculum, and keep things quiet."
Iruka stood still as the man continued. He'd stopped listening after the first sentence. He was far more interested in the oversized office than the oversized man shouting at him.
He noticed a golden pocket watch on the table. Several other expensive trinkets, too. Things most average people wouldn't be able to afford. Especially not a principal of the academy. One only had to compare this place to the Hokage's office to know what was going on.
"Listen well," the principal grumbled. "You've got another class today—combat training. Follow the curriculum, and I'll overlook what happened this morning. If you can't handle it, I strongly suggest transferring departments before you cause trouble for others."
"Of course, sir." Iruka smiled politely. "It won't happen again."
"Good. Good. You can leave."
Iruka gave a shallow bow before turning toward the door. He gave the office one last glance. People who had so much were always the easiest to control. How convenient for Iruka.
…
As he walked through the Academy halls, he was greeted by other teachers. Most were middle-aged nobodies who barely understood the content they taught—slaves to textbooks. Others were young, bright-eyed, and passionate, but had already learned to keep their heads down if they didn't want to get crushed.
Iruka smiled at everyone and bowed in greeting like a good junior should. It didn't take long before he reached the Academy's backyard, where the training area was.
It was… basic.
He examined the weapons laid out for the students: kunai and shuriken, dull and off-balance, cheap, and overused. The targets were just plain wooden boards, which was fine, but their setup was poor. They were too close, all at the same angle and height—the same setup he remembered from eight years ago. He knew from experience that this kind of training only built bad habits, ones that were hard to break.
He'd have to change it. But for now, he had a class to teach.
Iruka looked at the curriculum. He read through the list of prescribed drills and training objectives, then crumpled the paper and tossed it into the trash can at the edge of the training grounds. He didn't want to be one of these kinds of people, but he had to admit that in his time, it was far better.
And just in time.
The students began filing in, and three of them immediately caught his eye.
The first: a boy with a long ponytail, who kept some distance from the others.
The second: a girl surrounded by friends, her hair tied in two neat buns.
The third: a boy at the front of the group with long, straight black hair and blank, white eyes.
"Hello, students." Iruka greeted them with a warm smile. "I'm Iruka Umino, your new combat instructor. Let's get along well."
"Nice to meet you." The class bowed politely.
"Now, normally," Iruka said, "I'd have each of you introduce yourselves and then test your combat ability. But I already know everything I need to know. And in my opinion? All of you are pathetic. You're weak. You're useless. And at this point, if nothing is changed now, you will not survive your first mission outside this village."
"That's rich coming from someone who chose the path of a teacher."
"Neji Hyuga," Iruka looked at the boy who spoke. "The so-called genius of this class. Top scores in theory and practice. People say you're the best. But what does that matter when people like Kakashi Hatake exist? He graduated from the Academy the same year he entered, and was a Chunin the next. Compared to him, your mediocre talent means nothing."
"And who are you to judge me?"
"Yeah! Don't talk about Neji like that!"
"Tell him, Tenten!"
Others quickly rallied behind the girl who spoke up.
Iruka only smiled.
He picked up a pebble and threw it at Neji, who caught it without effort. He looked at the pebble with a confused look before he took a foot to the face and went flying.
"Respect is something you earn," Iruka said to the stunned class. "None of you has earned it yet. Not from me. Not from anyone in this village. And do you know why?"
He scanned their faces.
No one answered.
"Because you've all bought into this bullshit about 'genius' and 'failure.' You've already divided yourselves by labels. But here's the truth: a weed growing among shit is still a weed. It just smells a little better."
He turned back to Neji, who was slowly getting up with a bleeding nose.
"Neji Hyuga, do you think you can fight me on equal footing?"
"…No."
"Maybe there's hope for you after all," Iruka replied with a smile. "I'm not like any other teacher you've had. I'll teach you how to fight. How to survive. How to beat someone faster, stronger, and more talented than you. I'll teach you to fight. To crawl, bite, and scrape your way out of death. To use everything, every weapon, even the dirt beneath your foot, and how to mobilize the pain you will feel. This won't be pretty. But it'll be real."
He paused.
"If you can't handle that, drop out of the Academy now."
The students stayed quiet. Some swallowed hard. Others didn't quite understand what Iruka had in mind. But a few—Rock Lee, Neji Hyuga—looked intrigued.
Rock Lee looked determined. Like he wanted to prove himself to whom? Iruka had no idea, nor did he care. Neju Hyuga, on the other hand, looked at Iruka with a challenging look, like he had finally found a goal.
Iruka smiled.
He might have something to work with after all. He was concerned that even these two wouldn't meet his expectations. As he thought, the academy had let down its students. The principal and the teachers cared more about their standings than teaching, while students were taking it easy.
Maybe it was a result of an era of peace. The village wasn't desperate to produce shinobi and didn't put too much pressure on the academy. The talented people would blossom either way. But Iruka wasn't satisfied with that. He wanted not only for the talented to be prepared, but also to give a chance for the others to learn something useful that would serve them in the future.
A.N. Thanks for all the support. I didn't expect so many to like it, as I thought it would only be interesting to a few. It shows how little I know. And as always, thanks for reading and supporting me, so I can continue writing without any worries. If you want more, up to seven advanced chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852.