Not long after, Akira received word from his academy instructor, Teacher Ito, that his application for early graduation had been officially approved. In just two days, he would join the senior class in taking the final graduation exam.
Of course, this news wasn't surprising to Akira. Orochimaru had already let it slip during their earlier encounter that the approval was guaranteed. Still, hearing it from his teacher made the moment feel more real, and there was a strange sense of finality to it.
The graduation exam, as expected, posed no real challenge to Akira. His mastery of the fundamental techniques, combined with his sharp instincts and overwhelming strength, made the test feel more like a formality than a hurdle. When the exam results were announced, his name sat comfortably at the top of the list, just as he'd anticipated. The only thing left was the team assignment.
Akira was fully aware that Orochimaru would be his Jonin instructor. That much was clear the moment the Sannin himself had approached him. What did intrigue Akira, however, was the question of who his teammates would be.
He speculated that Mitarashi Anko, better known as Red Bean, was likely to be one of them. After all, she was graduating this year too. But as for the third member, he could only guess. The original timeline only ever mentioned Anko under Orochimaru's tutelage, so this part of the story was entirely unfamiliar territory.
On the day of the team announcement, Akira stood silently as his classmates were one by one paired off with their new Jonin leaders. Finally, his name was called—alongside two others he immediately recognized: Mitarashi Anko, just as he'd predicted, and to his mild surprise, Moonlight Hayate.
Hayate? The name rang clear in Akira's memory. He remembered the solemn-faced, perpetually coughing swordsman from the original timeline, but there had never been any indication that Hayate had trained under Orochimaru. Perhaps Akira's very existence had caused ripples in the sequence of events. Or perhaps Hayate had always been there, his presence simply overlooked. Either way, the future was no longer the one Akira had once memorized.
The three of them were summoned to the training grounds by Orochimaru. Standing there, the pale Sannin introduced himself with his usual eerie poise, golden eyes glimmering in the light like a snake ready to strike. After his brief introduction, Orochimaru instructed them to introduce themselves in turn.
Anko went first, speaking casually while munching on two skewers of dango. "I'm Mitarashi Anko, 10 years old. I like dango, obviously." She waved one of the half-eaten skewers. "I'm good at snake summons and ninjutsu."
Akira's lips twitched slightly at the sight. "So this gluttony started young," he thought to himself, recalling the older Anko from Boruto who had let herself go.
Next was Moonlight Hayate. The boy was smaller in stature but had a sharpness about him, as if he were cut from the same steel as the blade he trained with. "Moonlight Hayate, 8 years old. I specialize in Konoha-style kenjutsu," he said, his voice calm and clear, yet tinged with a quiet seriousness.
Akira raised an eyebrow slightly. In the original world, Hayate had struggled with health issues that had held him back, but here, he'd graduated at only 8. That fact alone hinted at something Akira already suspected—his mere presence in this world had subtly shifted the course of events. Perhaps his advancements in medical techniques had enabled Hayate to overcome his lung condition earlier.
Finally, it was Akira's turn. He cleared his throat, meeting everyone's gaze without a shred of nervousness.
"Uchiha Akira. Six years old. I specialize in ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, and medical ninjutsu," he said evenly, his tone both modest and matter-of-fact. "I suppose you could say I'm something of an all-rounder."
The statement, simple as it was, left Anko and Hayate momentarily stunned. Six years old? Their minds scrambled to process the information. At that age, most children were still stumbling their way through the academy's first lessons, and here stood Akira, a freshly graduated Genin, claiming mastery over nearly every core discipline a shinobi could hope for.
Orochimaru, observing their reactions, stepped in to elaborate. "Akira is no ordinary child. He's a prodigy of the Uchiha clan, possessing the Sharingan and an extraordinary capacity for learning."
The weight of the Uchiha name alone gave Akira's claim some credibility, but even so, Anko and Hayate surrounded him immediately after, bombarding him with questions. "How do you train? Do you sleep at all? Are you secretly an old man in disguise?" they joked, half in awe and half in disbelief.
Akira responded with a sheepish smile. "No secret techniques. Just luck, I guess. Some things just come naturally."
Before the conversation could stretch further, Orochimaru's voice cut through the air. "That will do for introductions. Now prepare yourselves. In a few moments, the three of you will face me in a combat exercise."
A charged silence settled over the group.
Orochimaru's method of evaluating students was far removed from the traditional bell-test beloved by the other Jonin instructors. He already knew who he wanted. This was no test to decide their worth, only an opportunity to assess their actual abilities before leading them into battle.
For Akira, the prospect was electrifying. A true combat test against Orochimaru—the same man who, in the original story, stood at the summit of power alongside the likes of Jiraiya and Tsunade. This would be the first real measure of the distance he still had to climb.
His heart raced with anticipation, but his mind remained razor-sharp. He already knew which tools he would leave out of his arsenal. His Mangekyo Sharingan, for one, and even his three-tomoe Sharingan Genjutsu.
He couldn't afford to let Orochimaru glimpse his full potential. In the original story, Orochimaru's obsession with the Sharingan had been ignited after his defeat at the hands of Itachi. Akira had no desire to trigger that curiosity prematurely.
The last thing he needed was for Orochimaru to start seeing him as a potential vessel.
"This time," Akira thought, tightening his gloves, "I'll test myself with pure skill. Let's see how I measure up against a legend."
The moment Orochimaru's calm, cold voice signaled the start of the spar, the three young Genin instinctively vanished into the surrounding terrain, their figures melting away into the scattered shade of the training ground.
Unlike Naruto's brash, untrained courage in the original story, these three understood the significance of the gap between themselves and a seasoned Jonin—especially one of Orochimaru's infamy. To charge forward recklessly would have been nothing short of suicidal. The only logical choice was stealth, patience, and an opportunity.
From his vantage, Orochimaru observed their initial decision with mild approval. "At least," he thought, "they know what it means to be a shinobi."
But even as his pale yellow eyes lazily traced the wind-bent grasses and the shifting dapple of sunlight on the forest floor, Orochimaru already knew where they were. For all their effort, Anko and Hayate's concealment was crude, the rawness of new graduates betrayed by shallow breathing and twitching leaves.
Akira, however, was another story entirely.
Inheriting the stealth techniques from Kaha—an intelligence agent whose skills in concealment neared Jonin-level precision—Akira's presence all but disappeared. Even for Orochimaru, seasoned predator that he was, it was not something to dismiss lightly.
"Interesting," Orochimaru mused inwardly, his curiosity sharpening like the blade of a kunai. "Just how much experience does this child carry, to already understand the art of suppressing one's existence so thoroughly?"
Suppressing the rare flicker of intrigue, Orochimaru decided to set the stage in motion. Without a sound, he flickered away using the Body Flicker Technique and appeared behind Anko in the blink of an eye. His pale hand clasped the back of her head, almost gently, before unceremoniously tossing her into the open clearing like discarded prey.
Before the dull thud of her landing had fully echoed through the air, he was already on the move. Hayate's Clear Release had masked him well against average opponents, but not against Orochimaru's ruthless eye. Within a heartbeat, the boy's attempt at concealment crumbled as Orochimaru closed in, driving a sharp punch into his gut, nearly folding the young swordsman in half. Another flick of his wrist sent Hayate tumbling beside Anko, groaning but alive.
Two down, almost effortlessly. Orochimaru's gaze lifted, settling on the last piece of this little puzzle: Akira.
In the quiet, Akira stepped out from his hiding place. He didn't flinch under Orochimaru's gaze. Instead, his dark eyes, now shimmering with the unmistakable glow of the fully matured Three-Tomoe Sharingan, stared directly into Orochimaru's.
Anko and Hayate staggered to their feet, joining Akira at his side, unwilling to retreat despite their earlier defeat. Orochimaru, ever the snake, offered them a thin, cold smile.
"Not bad," he said, voice like silk over steel. "You understand concealment. But against me, that's hardly enough. Show me what else you have. Attack me together. Let me see the full extent of your strength."
Akira's lips curled into the faintest smile. "As you wish."
Without another word, he moved first, weaving hand signs in the blink of an eye and releasing a blazing sphere of flame.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
The enormous fireball rushed toward Orochimaru, but the seasoned Sannin was already forming his own signs.
"Water Release: Water Formation Wall."
A surge of water spiraled up in front of him, quenching the inferno on impact. Steam hissed and billowed across the field, shrouding everything in a thick fog—and in that moment of obscured sight, Akira's true attack began.
Shurikens sliced through the fog at impossible angles, bending midair as if guided by an unseen force—the mark of the Uchiha clan's shuriken mastery.
But Orochimaru, with a flick of his wrist and the effortless twirl of a single kunai, deflected each one, the ringing metallic notes echoing through the mist.
The next strike came from Hayate, who darted in with his sword raised, slashing at Orochimaru's side. The attempt was brave, but his movements were still green, lacking the deadly precision required to pierce such a seasoned shinobi's guard. With two quick motions, Orochimaru parried the blade and disarmed him, sending Hayate sprawling backward.
Anko moved next, summoning serpents from her sleeves in a desperate Hidden Shadow Snake Hands assault. Orochimaru, watching his former student's signature move, countered with his own. His snakes burst forth, larger and more vicious, effortlessly overpowering hers. Anko had no choice but to retreat.
The attack sequence had been executed perfectly by Genin standards, and yet Orochimaru hadn't moved a single step from his original spot. The difference in strength was clear, and the reality was sobering for the three young ninja.
And now it was Orochimaru's turn.
His form blurred, the Body Flicker Technique propelling him like a phantom. Anko and Hayate had no time to defend. The Sannin's strikes were precise and unrelenting, sending them crashing back, too bruised to rejoin the fight.
Only Akira remained, Sharingan whirling, reading every movement, predicting each subtle shift in muscle and chakra. Their exchange unfolded like a lethal dance, the boy matching the speed and flow of a shinobi decades his senior.
Anko and Hayate could only watch in astonishment, the gap between their talents and Akira's becoming painfully clear.
Orochimaru, too, was intrigued, his interest bordering on amusement. "For a six-year-old, you're exceptional," he murmured. "But do you really believe you can threaten me?"
Akira's expression remained unreadable.
"Orochimaru-sensei," he said calmly, "you're very powerful. But I haven't shown you everything yet. If I use my next move, even you might lose, if you're not careful."
The Sannin's lips curled into a sharp, mocking smile. "Oh? Such confidence." But his eyes narrowed, a flicker of caution rippling beneath the surface. He'd underestimated Akira once already.
Turning to Anko and Hayate, Akira spoke softly: "The two of you should step back. You won't be able to help in the next part. I don't want you to get hurt."
Neither protested. There was something about the calm certainty in his voice that silenced them more effectively than any order.
Orochimaru's smirk lingered as he watched the exchange. "Fascinating," he thought. "Is it arrogance, or something more?"
Either way, the real test was about to begin.