"Hii-kun, today's lesson is practical combat training. Want to wait and join next time?"
Before class, the very Sand-looking teacher called Hii Kōri aside and asked.
Given Hii Kōri's awkward enrollment timing, beginners' physical growth was most significant in early training. If he were a second-year transfer, this teacher—Misawa—wouldn't have mentioned it.
Clearly, he worried a newly enrolled student couldn't keep up with classmates already trained two months. Even though Chiyo said no special treatment, he still reminded.
From this perspective, he was indeed a conscientious teacher.
"It's fine, Misawa-sensei. Actually, I'm looking forward to it."
Hii Kōri certainly wouldn't agree to sit out.
Over a month had passed since awakening in this world. During this time, he'd really been in contact with only two ninja for a long time.
Chiyo went without saying—elite jōnin, one of Sunagakure's top experts. Undoubtedly capable of spinning him like a basketball.
As for his cheap big brother Mataza—those years of practical experience didn't impress Hii Kōri. But he was still over a decade older; physical and chakra advantages were overwhelming.
If aiming for Mataza as a benchmark, Hii Kōri figured he needed more training. At least until mastering the Three Basic Techniques.
He could fight with barrier and sealing techniques—but chakra insufficient. Uzumaki child was still a child; undeveloped. His current chakra cap roughly thirty percent of Mataza's. In a real back-and-forth tug-of-war, he'd lose.
Now, an opportunity to beat up—correction, learn from peers? No way Hii Kōri refused.
"Ah... alright."
Teacher Misawa considered briefly. A child personally brought by Chiyo must have something special. Besides, with him—a chūnin—supervising, nothing should go wrong. He agreed.
Thus, PE class arrived as scheduled.
"Today's practical combat training: pairs as usual. Those not called can warm up, spar with classmates."
On the training ground, Misawa held a notebook recording student performance and announced routinely. Then he called two students forward to spar.
"Sparring" for first-years wasn't exciting. Throw all your shuriken, then devolve into small children pushing each other. Waste time.
Whoever fell first—Misawa would intervene and call next pair.
Other students scattered around were long accustomed. Some warmed up; others played in groups.
The real attraction was always Rasa and Pakura's spars.
Hii Kōri looked around, walked to the tool chest by the training ground, and rummaged casually.
"So light..."
Predictably—kunai, shuriken, all wooden training supplies, even edges rounded. Obviously first-years wouldn't use real metal ones.
But wooden ones couldn't match real weight. This buoyant feel killed his interest.
"Hey, transfer student! You think you're pretty tough?"
Just then, seeing Hii Kōri alone in the corner, that boy seized his opportunity. Calling several regular "playmates," he approached.
"Huh? Who're you?"
Glancing at the students surrounding him, Hii Kōri yawned, lacking interest.
Weak. Very weak.
Thin chakra. Mediocre physicals. Surrounding him yet leaving such a huge gap... Unwatchable.
"What—remember this! I'm the leader of the 'Super Invincible Gang'—Kitaro!"
Whether provoked by Hii Kōri's tone (genuinely unfamiliar) or contemptuous gaze (spacing out from boredom), Kitaro shouted, attracting warming-up students' attention.
"...Ah. And?"
Even the interest to complain about this outdated gang name couldn't be mustered. Hii Kōri scratched his hair, tone even more boring.
"I'm gonna 'spar' with you! Don't you dare refuse!"
Pointing at his "underlings," Kitaro's meaning was clear.
Hii Kōri finally understood.
Accustomed to his perception abilities, he'd forgotten kids this age couldn't accurately gauge strangers—especially peers—strength.
Earlier he'd wondered what these guys wanted. So that's it.
He'd seen this before. Clique bullying.
*Must-try list for District 11, as they say.*
"Ah... I believe I mentioned hating trouble, didn't I?"
Realization hit, Hii Kōri perked up immediately. Voice pretending to be deep—actually barely suppressing a grin.
Oho, not bad. Free delivery of sandbags to punch.
Who said this Academy was bad? This Academy's great!
Maybe his mind was affected by physical age. Hii Kōri didn't mind.
Youth should be full of spirit! Otherwise, what's the point?
"Hah? Who cares?!"
Not leaving room for refusal, Kitaro charged before finishing. From his mid-run twisted expression, probably fantasizing about beating Hii Kōri senseless while classmates cheered.
Such a straightforward charge posed zero threat. Hii Kōri lightly flicked a few pebbles with his toe, then kicked.
Even a trace of chakra strengthens enough to send stones flying like slingshot pellets.
Thud. Three stones slammed into Kitaro's shins and knee.
Shocked by pain, his leg gave out. He stumbled, pitching face-first toward Hii Kōri.
"I'm kindhearted—can't stand watching you fall so hard—"
Thus taunting, Hii Kōri stepped forward, reaching out toward face-planting Kitaro.
From below upward.