Although Kushina already deserved the rank of jōnin, she was still forced to attend one last year at the Ninja Academy. That was the will of the Third Hokage. She'd tried countless tis to graduate early; every ti, she was refused. Hiruzen always gave the sa vague explanation about "developnt" and "social maturity," but Kushina knew better. It wasn't about her skills.
In content, this final year wasn't any different from the last two. Most students had already reached passable standards in the three basic jutsu- Clone, Transformation, and Substitution. Those who t the bare minimum were allowed to graduate.
But for her, this year felt like a punishnt.
Kushina already knew everything they taught. Not just theory, she could do things most of her instructors couldn't even begin to understand. The worst part wasn't the boredom, but the loneliness. Minato and Nono had graduated the year before, the only people she tolerated in this dull Academy. Without them, it was just her… and everyone else.
She hadn't realized how much lighter the days felt with Minato's warmth or Nono's quiet presence beside her. Their absence cut sharper than she expected. You never truly understand the weight others carry for you until you're left to bear it all alone.
Still… Kurama was with her, and that made all the difference.
She took her written and practical exams the day before. Aced them effortlessly. Even the written portion, which used to give her headaches, was no match for Kurama's guidance. His voice in her mind fed her answers in perfect clarity.
Now, she stood at the finish line. Four long years of useless lectures, ornantal flower arrangents, and beating down cocky classmates, and it was finally over.
"Kushina Uzumaki!" called Instructor Iroh from the raised platform, holding out a forehead protector.
She walked forward with the crowd watching. The other students sat in neat rows, while their families waited off to the side, clapping and cheering as nas were called. Kushina stepped onto the wooden platform and accepted the headband without a word.
"Congratulations," Iroh said, giving her a tight-lipped smile. She couldn't tell if it was genuine or simply relief that she was finally leaving his classroom.
Kushina didn't smile back. As she stepped off the stage, she stared at the forehead protector in her hands. The symbol of Konoha: a leaf, encircling a swirl.
The swirl was ant to honor the Uzumaki Clan. She ran her thumb over it, slowly.
'Tch… took them long enough.'
The tal felt cold, but the weight in her hands was real. Whatever her feelings for the village, this ant sothing. A little accomplishnt filled her upon receiving it.
Then she looked over to where the families were gathered. Mothers and fathers congratulate their children, sisters and brothers excitedly chattering. The sight still sends a pang through her chest, but now that Kurama is by her side, it's not as bad as it once was.
'I got it… just to put a strike through the middle one day,' she thought, lips twitching into a quiet smirk.
Her gaze wandered over to the families clustered together. Parents hugging children, siblings squealing in excitent, proud tears from the older generation. Even after all this ti, the sight sent a sharp pang through her chest.
But it didn't affect her like it used to. Kurama's presence wrapped around her like a warm, steady current in her soul. She was no longer alone.
"All right, graduates, listen up!" Iroh called, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Everyone returned to attention, lining up in front of him once more.
"The Third Hokage has arranged a special opportunity for all of you today," he announced, motioning toward a group of older students standing at the edge of the field.
They were all in chunin flak jackets, clearly a few years older than the graduates. Among them, she spotted a young man with spiky black hair and sharp eyes. Another stood with long, dark hair and pale, pupilless eyes. She rembered them both vaguely from her earlier Academy years. There were others: one with a pineapple-shaped haircut, a chubby boy with a round face, and a pale blonde with blue eyes.
"If you can defeat one of these new chunin in combat... you'll be granted early promotion to chunin," Iroh said.
The crowd of graduates erupted into chatter. Gasps, hopeful laughter, and whispered strategy. Kushina didn't react outwardly, but inwardly, her lips curled in disgust.
She, and so of the more clever people in the crowd saw this for what it was. The Third Hokage needed more bodies for the front.
The Second Shinobi War was eating through manpower, and this was just another way to speed up the supply chain. A few impressive students would pass. The rest would leave the field bruised, bloodied, and broken of their illusions.
Although Konoha is doing well, all things considered, war is a bloody affair and needs a lot of manpower. After the other four nations bled them dry, they needed a transfusion of new blood.
'Weren't villages ford to stop children from fighting in the first place?' She thought bitterly.
She didn't necessarily bla Konoha. Not entirely. This was a world built on flawed foundations. But she did bla this system. The First Hokage was a strong and honorable man, but he was clueless in politics.
Still… this worked in her favor. A higher rank ant more freedom, even if it's only a little.
"Who would like to try?" Iroh asked.
Hands shot up, Kushina's among them. Predictably, the instructor picked the brown-haired boy she'd punched years ago, Takashi. Sohow, even after all these years of being humiliated by her in spars, he still clung to his arrogance. Kushina couldn't decide if it was admirable or just pathetic.
Takashi stepped into the ring. Opposite him, the spiky black haired young man in a chunin vest moved forward, calm and expressionless.
Kushina shook her head. She could see the ending from a mile away: an elite Uchiha vs a diocre fresh graduate; the outco is obvious.
"Takashi Shinsato versus Fugaku Uchiha. Begin."
It ended almost imdiately.
Fugaku's shuriken flew in perfect arcs, their trajectory altered mid-air with textbook Sharingan precision. The cuts they left behind were shallow, but deliberate. Just enough to cause pain and break the illusion of glory.
Takashi's screams filled the air- echoing through the field. The excited crowd fell silent.
"That's enough," Iroh said at last. "Fugaku wins. Takashi fails."
Fugaku turned without a word and returned to the line of chunin.
Iroh looked up again. "Who's next?"
This ti, fewer hands went up. Most of the students had the fear of reality bleeding down their backs now. But Kushina's hand stayed raised.
This ti, she was called.
"Kushina Uzumaki versus Hiashi Hyuga," Iroh announced.
The tension in the air thickened as Kushina stepped into the sparring ring. Opposite her stood Hiashi Hyuga, regal, composed, with the distinct poise of soone raised as the heir to a major clan. His pale eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto hers with quiet scrutiny. She rembered seeing him around the Academy once or twice. Even then, he moved like a boy pretending to be a man.
Kushina adjusted her stance, letting the cool weight of her scythe settle in her hands. Even though it was a practice match, she didn't intend to hold back.
Her fingers clenched around the handle. 'Lets show these bastards the power of the Uzumaki!'
"Begin."
Hiashi slid forward with sharp, graceful steps, Byakugan already flaring, veins around his temples bulging with chakra. In a flash, he closed the distance and thrust his palm toward her heart. Gentle Fist, the Hyuga clan's signature style: precise strikes to the chakra network, ant to cripple without leaving visible damage.
She sidestepped easily, with fluid motion, hair whipping behind her like a red banner.
He's fast, she admitted inwardly. But not fast enough.
The mont he missed, she moved behind him, spinning her scythe in an arc that would have torn into his shoulder if he hadn't leapt out of range.
The crowd gasped.
"Too slow," she said aloud, taunting, and her eyes glead.
Hiashi's gaze narrowed. He shifted again, striking out with two more rapid palm thrusts. Kushina ducked under one, blocked the other with the shaft of her scythe, and retaliated with a sweeping kick that caught him in the side and sent him skidding.
Inside her mind, Kurama stirred.
"You're holding back."
Just a little, she thought. He's a kid, like .
"He's a soldier, and now, you're one too."
She didn't answer. She knew Kurama was right.
Hiashi's jaw clenched as he righted himself. He was breathing harder now. He launched forward again, his hands a blur with the Eight Trigrams techniques. Most of the graduates would've been overwheld in seconds. Even most chunin might've had trouble.
But Kushina? She danced around him easily.
One palm aid for her neck, and she dropped low. Another to her abdon, she rolled and ca up behind him. He pivoted sharply to et her strike, but not fast enough. Her scythe swung in a deliberate arc, stopping a hair's breadth from his throat.
"Dead," she said, eyes eting his.
He froze.
For a long second, no one moved.
"That's enough!" Iroh barked from the sidelines. "Kushina Uzumaki wins."
The spectators, already silent after the first blow, now stared with a mix of awe and unease. One of their own, a child like them, had just taken down the Hyuga heir with such ease.
Kushina stepped back and twirled the scythe once before resting it across her shoulders. Her breathing was even and unlabored.
Hiashi bowed stiffly, the corners of his mouth tight. "You're strong," he said, and for a mont, she saw a flicker of humility behind the white of his eyes.
"You too," she replied, and ant it. Just not strong enough.
As she walked back toward the others, she realized just how far she had surpassed them. Even those raised in ancient traditions and trained from birth were no match for her.
Inside her, Kurama rumbled with vague approval.
"That was satisfying to watch."
You're just happy I beat a Hyuga.
"Hmph. If only you were up against that inherently evil Uchiha brat- now that would've been entertaining."
You're pretty confident in .
"Obviously, I trained you."
She smiled softly, barely visible.
As the final matches continued, she tuned them out. Her fight was already over. The rest didn't matter much to her.
Afterward, while the remaining graduates were being dismissed, Kushina stood to the side, her new forehead protector still clutched in one hand. She didn't wear it yet; it represented sothing she didn't believe in.
But still…
She looked down at the tal plate. The leaf symbol was etched cleanly in its center, bold and unapologetic.
'A leaf with a swirl,' she thought again. 'A leaf… strangling the last trace of Uzushio.'
Kurama's voice lowered, more thoughtful this ti.
"... you did well today, Kushina."
She smiled again.
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