Naruto: Power in Play

Chapter 21

The academy's training grounds buzzed with anticipation. The cool morning air carried the chatter of eager students and the occasional clang of metal as instructors prepared the tournament rings. Rows of spectators—parents, older students, and even some clan members—gathered around the arena, their curious eyes fixed on the field below.

The biannual academy tournament was finally here, and for the youngest students, it marked a day they'd been preparing for since their first lesson.

At the heart of it all stood Shimamoto Kin, the academy chairman. His silver hair gleamed under the sunlight, and his sharp, calm features radiated both authority and warmth. He raised a hand, silencing the murmurs that rippled through the crowd.

"Welcome," he began, his voice carrying across the grounds. "Today marks the beginning of our academy tournament—a tradition that stands as a testament to your growth, determination, and potential. This event is more than a test of skill. It is a chance to earn resources, academy points, and valuable items, yes, but above all, it is a stage to push your limits, learn from one another, and celebrate your progress."

He paused, letting his words sink in to the ears of the young group of students gathered on the field. "The low-level tournament is yours to claim, first years. Show us what you've learned. Show us your resolve. Step forward, and let the games begin!"

With that, a cheer erupted from the crowd, and the low-level tournament officially began. Parents watched with quiet anticipation, their expressions a blend of mild concern and pride as they hoped to see their children's efforts shine. Older students, many of whom had once stood on the same field, observed with a mix of nostalgia and amusement, occasionally exchanging whispered bets. Some clan members studied the young competitors with sharp, calculating eyes, assessing potential recruits or future rivals. Meanwhile, a few village civilians, drawn by the promise of an exciting spectacle, chatted animatedly about the matchups, eager to glimpse the raw talent and potential of the academy's next generation.

Standing among the first years, Ando appeared calm, unfazed by the hum of chatter from the spectators or the charged tension that rippled through his peers. He had grown accustomed to the watchful gazes and quiet murmurs, the kind that followed him daily at the academy.

A confident grin tugged at his lips as he stepped forward to draw his lot. The tournament followed a straightforward format: eight divisions, each functioning as its own self-contained bracket. A container held shuffled slips of paper, each bearing a unique number from 1 to 15, and students drew their numbers to determine their placement. The division system ensured a manageable and fair competition, avoiding chaos and allowing students to progress methodically.

After drawing his number, Ando glanced at the slip—7—and handed it to the supervising instructor without a word. He then retreated into the cluster of participants, his brown eyes scanning the crowd as he quietly sized up his potential opponents.

It didn't take long for the matchups to be posted and the rings to come alive with action. Four matches ran concurrently, their intensity drawing gasps and murmurs from the gathered crowd. Ando's attention, however, lingered on the stark disparity in skill levels among the participants.

The eldest students in the tournament were no more than 9 years old, so everyone should have been in a similar developmental stage. Yet, the gap between the fighters was glaringly wide. Ando's gaze fell on the orphans, many of whom barely lasted beyond the first exchange of moves. They were dismantled with almost casual ease by their opponents, who executed techniques with a precision and confidence that spoke of superior training and resources.

For the orphans, the matches weren't just losses—they were humiliations. Each defeat was a clear indication of the vast gap between them and the clan-born students, whose superior training and resources made them nearly unbeatable.