Chapter 121: Pakura Passes the Graduation Exam
As Souta pushed open the solid door made of compacted sand, a faint yet heavy scraping sound echoed, as though countless grains of sand were grinding against one another.
The dry morning air immediately greeted Souta, carrying with it the faint, distinctive scent of the desert that clung to his nose. At the same time, the door of the neighboring room creaked open, and from behind it emerged the figure of Pakura.
"Yo! Pakura!" Souta called out as he turned his head, his hand swiftly twisting the key to lock his own apartment door. A faint smile appeared on his lips—simple, yet sincere.
"Yes." Pakura nodded, a light smile curving her lips. With calm, deliberate movements, she locked her door as well. Her greenish-brown hair swayed gently, tousled by the warm breeze drifting through the open-air corridor of the apartment, with a few strands occasionally brushing against her cheeks.
Pakura, too, had passed the interview test yesterday and was now officially a ninja. The forehead protector of Sunagakure was tied neatly across her brow, the polished metal plate gleaming as it caught the desert's morning light. That glimmer was not merely a reflection—it was the mark of pride and the weight of new responsibility now entrusted to her.
"Well then, shall we go to the Ninja Academy together?" Souta suggested with a smile. His tone sounded casual, as though the invitation were a small thing, yet his eyes revealed a fiery eagerness, like an arrow ready to be loosed.
"Of course." Pakura nodded once more, her smile widening slightly, radiating both relief and anticipation.
Together, the two descended the stairs. The apartment steps, built from hardened earth, felt cool beneath their feet, amplifying the stillness of the young morning.
Their footsteps echoed softly between the earthen walls, blending with the whisper of the desert wind that slipped in through the open gaps.
Once they stepped outside, the rising sunlight greeted them warmly. Streaks of golden light spread across the rooftops of Sunagakure's distinctive houses, casting long shadows upon the sandy streets. Without exchanging many words, the two began walking along the village roads.
The village was already awakening. The main street that cut through the settlement was bustling with merchants. Some were opening small stalls, propping up wooden boards, while others neatly arranged goods—rolls of fabric, fragrant spices, and desert-crafted wares.
The scent of pungent spices mingled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, filling the air. Fine dust swirled about, carried aloft by the warm desert breeze, making the shafts of sunlight sparkle as if scattered with golden motes. Children played cheerfully nearby, while mothers busied themselves bargaining for foodstuffs.
The atmosphere radiated vibrant life, as though the entire village moved in unison to welcome the new day. Souta and Pakura strode steadily through the lively crowd, the two of them carrying an aura unlike ordinary villagers—no longer mere citizens of Sunagakure, but shinobi prepared to tread the long and arduous path of trials ahead.
The sky was clear, and the desert sun rose higher, gradually dispelling the lingering chill of the night. Its golden rays poured down upon the clay rooftops of Sunagakure, painting them in warm hues.
A gentle breeze swept through, carrying glimmers of dust that shimmered as they danced in the air. On the village's main street, the sound of Souta and Pakura's synchronized footsteps mingled with the clamor of morning—the merchants calling, wooden crates shifting, and the rustle of goods being laid out.
As they walked side by side, the two exchanged light conversation. They reminisced about the interview the day before, recalling the difficult questions and the nervous expressions on the faces of the other students.
Souta raised an eyebrow when he heard the latest news. Apparently, Makima had also passed the interview. Still, he had already suspected as much from the beginning.
"Not surprising, is it," Souta remarked with a faint smile. "Makima always looked confident from the start."
...
Chapter 122: Awaiting the Arrival of the Mentor
Pakura responded with a slight nod, her eyes narrowing as if reassessing Makima's abilities once more.
On their way to the Ninja Academy, they encountered Makima. The girl walked with calm yet commanding steps, her gaze sharp yet never stripped of gentleness. Her long hair was neatly tied, swaying lightly in rhythm with her movements. Across her forehead gleamed the Sunagakure headband, catching the sunlight with a glint that seemed to highlight her presence.
The moment their eyes met, Makima offered a faint smile. Without further words or unnecessary chatter, the three of them naturally fell into stride together, heading toward the Academy.
Along the same road leading to the Ninja Academy, other academy students who had passed yesterday's interviews could also be seen. Some faces looked tense, their expressions stiff with the weight of expectation, while others brimmed with enthusiasm, already whispering among themselves about who their potential teammates might be.
The streets—normally bustling with merchants and traders—were now dominated by young students proudly wearing their brand-new forehead protectors. Those headbands marked the beginning of their journey as shinobi. Every one of them moved toward a single destination—the Ninja Academy—eager to learn who would stand alongside them as comrades in their very first team.
After walking for some time, they finally arrived at the Academy building. The structure stood firm, its walls formed from densely packed sand, solid and enduring. A pair of large wooden doors loomed at the entrance, carved with the emblem of Sunagakure in precise strokes.
In the front courtyard, clusters of students had already gathered. Their faces reflected a mixture of curiosity and nervous anticipation as they awaited the long-expected announcement of team assignments.
Souta and the others made their way into their classroom. The room was spacious, its wide windows letting in shafts of sunlight that illuminated the slightly dusty wooden floor.
What surprised Souta most was the number of students present. To his astonishment, only a handful had successfully passed. At most, perhaps enough to form five teams? Souta couldn't be certain of the total number, but one thing was clear—the actual count was far fewer than he had expected.
Realizing this, Souta directed his attention toward the podium at the front, silently waiting for their teacher—or perhaps their future team leader—to appear. He held his breath for a moment, trying to calm the restless thoughts spinning in his mind.
Together with Pakura and Makima, Souta waited in silence for several moments. The atmosphere inside the classroom gradually grew noisier as other teachers began to enter, one by one calling out names and escorting their chosen students outside, introducing themselves as the leaders of each newly formed squad.
From their seats, Souta and his companions watched as their classmates were taken away one after another, guided by their mentors—their newly appointed team leaders.
The sound of sandals scraping against the hardened floor echoed repeatedly. And then, before long, the classroom grew quiet again. All that remained inside were Souta, Makima, and Pakura.
The three exchanged glances. The same question lingered unspoken between them. Who would their team leader be?
Souta leaned back against his chair, gazing up at the ceiling. Pakura folded her arms across her chest, her expression sharp and serious. Makima, meanwhile, remained calm, but the way her eyes swept across the room betrayed her curiosity.
As Souta, Pakura, and Makima continued speculating about their mentor while trading light conversation, the sound of footsteps reached their ears.
The steps were heavy yet steady, each strike of the boots against the corridor floor resounding with a sense of presence. Then, the classroom door creaked open slowly, revealing the silhouette of a man.
The instant Souta laid eyes on the man, his entire perception nearly shattered. His breath caught sharply in his throat, and his pupils widened in disbelief.
How could it be? The man standing right before them wasn't from this world. He was a character from an entirely different anime—Jujutsu Kaisen—while this world belonged to Naruto.
The man strode forward with a firm posture, his aura filling the room in an instant. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "My name is Masamichi Yaga. From this moment on, I will be your mentor as well as the leader of Squad Thirteen. I expect you to follow my orders diligently."
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