Turns out, it was really in line with my expectations.
The admission exam would just need you to meet the first three requirements of loving the village, having an unyielding mind and to be healthy in both mind of body, like in the actual series.
...Frankly, it was a load of bullshit. That meant just about anyone could get into the Academy, right?
Wrong.
There would also be a physical aptitude exam, which I assumed existed to weed out those who weren't worth the effort to nurture, such as talentless civilians and orphans without any real potential.
Brutal, but not really surprising. I presume thousands of students attempt this exam a year, and only so many are worth the resources.
There was a reason the civilian to ninja ratio was so low in the series. I think it was around 1 out of 5 people that even turned into ninja, so around... 80% of the population consisted of ordinary people.
That didn't mean the end, though. There was obviously different careers, and that's exactly what the civilian academies are for—assuming they exist here. They probably do, right? Architecture and construction, gastronomy, merchant work, teaching, smithing, can't forget the medical field, research on technology, and the list keeps going on.
It is really amazing how we evolved so much as a species, and how effectively society had been structured. No matter what you were, you still could find a way or two to contribute to it, civilian or not.
...One small issue, though.
There's too much damn people!
"Aren't you excited, Amai?" Rei asked me, and I barely heard him because of how loud the crowd was.
"Yeah," I answered absentmindedly, not sure of what he said but just praying I answered right.
"I am."
Crowds were the absolute worst, especially for someone with social anxiety like me. Kids and their parents all crammed together, talking over each other nonstop, and everything was just so damn loud.
Out of the two hundred children in the orphanage, only me, my friends and around 14 others were sent, all ranging between the ages of 5 to 7.
I expected a bit more to go, but I guess it is what it is.
So much damn people.
Never thought I'd say this, but I want to go home.
"Attention!"
A familiar elderly, imposing voice reverberated through the crowd, causing most of the noise to die down instantly.
The Hokage stood at the front, surrounded by a dozen Chuunin—which I assumed were the proctors for this admission exam.
"Salutations to everyone present here on this important day," he began. "Today, we have been reunited for one reason. For us to plant the future seeds of Konohagakure, those who will one day become its protectors. That is to say, every youngling who stands before me today."
Just get to the actual good part already.
"Blah, blah, blah..."
I mentally shut out the noise by letting my mind just focus on the blue sky. I'm not about to listen to an old man blabbing on and on about the "Will of Fire" or whatever. Protect the village, it's dangerous, hardships, duty, all that gibberish.
It's not like anyone can see me anyway.
Eventually, after what felt like forever (even though the speech was probably just five minutes, which was still insane to me), the Hokage finally wrapped it up.
"Now, all of you will be divided into groups by the proctors. Parents, please step away from the candidates and allow us to proceed."
With that, every adult in the crowd stepped away, clearing the way for the proctors to take charge.
As he said, they went up one by one and began separating us into groups. The amount of people was almost insane, to say the least.
Every group had at least 100 children, which made the sheer scale of it all even more overwhelming. The saving grace of this is that I was placed with Rei, Daichi and Takuya in Group 5.
"There's so much people," Takuya exclaimed, mouth wide open.
"I know, right? It's crazy," Rei added, looking around with wide eyes. "There's a lot of us trying to enter the academy."
Indeed there are, Rei. Indeed there are.
It took a while for everyone to organize themselves, and the noise was honestly deafening. So much chatter, nervous voices, anxiousness, excitement, it was overwhelming.
Each group was lead to an open space, separate from one another—mine included.
"Is everyone here?" the proctor of our group asked, motioning for us to gather in closer
She was a young woman that looked to be in her early 20s, with short black hair tied into a messy ponytail, dressed in the Chuunin flak jacket (what I assumed it was) and a clipboard in hand. Her brown eyes looked at us, as if mentally counting our numbers.
"Good," she nodded. "Listen up, and listen well!"
"It will work like this. You'll all run at the bare minimum, one 750-meter lap. If you can do more than that, all the better. This will help us evaluate your physical condition, including stamina, your pace, and endurance. Any questions?"
There was silence for a moment, before a kid in the crowd raised his hand.
"What if we somehow don't manage? Do we just get disqualified?"
She thought for a moment, before giving him a smile.
"Of course, but you can always try again next year. If you still can't manage by then, there's still many other paths you can take in life. Being a ninja isn't your only choice," she continued. "For today, just focus on giving it your all. Even if you fail, Konoha will take care of you, because that's our ninja way. This goes for everyone here, too."
...Nice way of indirectly telling him that he's hopeless. It's like feeding a homeless man for one day, and then never crossing paths with him again.
"Any other questions?" she asked, arms crossed.
Silence.
"Okay then," the proctor put the clipboard... down? No, it just disappeared. Storage seals? "Let's get started!"
I was still dumbfounded, trying to figure out what the hell happened with the clipboard. It vanished just like that... I'll just assume those are storage seals.
She stepped back, "You'll have 5 minutes to run each lap. Get past the first one, and you're guaranteed a spot within the academy. Like I said before, the more laps you do, the better. We'll keep this up until the 10th lap, but that doesn't mean I expect you guys to run that much, so no pressure. Give it your best!"
"Hai!" Several children shouted in unison.
The proctor nodded in approval, and the Chuunin beside her took out a timer.
"Ready?"
Everyone waited for the signal to start running, and then, the timer clicked.
"Go, go, go!" she shouted repeatedly, as if to encourage us.
Step, step, step, step, step.
Too damn loud.
It's not like this would be particularly hard. At my limit, I could manage 13 kilometers or so, because of all the consistent training I had done. The boys could very obviously do around 25% more than that, and the gap would only widen the more they grow.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. And honestly, I didn't even know if what we did could even be called 'training,' because all we did was run, and not much else. Maybe we could get a few push-ups in here and there, but that was about it.
A training plan is what I need, because I literally don't know anything about training my own physical condition. Something that's easy to be consistent with and still produces results.
Click!
"First lap over! Those who fell behind and couldn't finish in time, you're dismissed and free to try again next year," the proctor announced.
A few groans were heard, and around 13 kids reluctantly stepped aside, some panting heavily, others looking down in disappointment. A couple even had tears in their eyes, though they tried to hide it.
Poor things.
"Second lap starts now, keep moving!" She shouted, and the chuunin reset the timer.
My legs felt warm, but that was it. This was just a small warm-up, after all.
Some of the others were already looking winded and slowing slightly, and the footsteps continuously got more and more uneven.
This kept going on and on, kids tapping out lap after lap. I dropped out at around the 6th lap.
My three friends? They stopped at the 7th, likely because they just didn't want to keep going rather than being tired.
By then, only 27 kids remained.
After a while, the mini-sprint was over. The proctor got us back into formation, and made us spread out, before allowing us a 10-minute rest.
Then, they had made us do a few strength-related exercises, such as push-ups, squats and sit-ups. Y'know, the basic stuff.
Personally, I managed 24 push ups, 26 sit-ups and 69 squats before being done for.
Nice.
I took a glance around the place, and counted around... 87? 87 of us passed, and I assume that means we get into the academy?
"The physical portion is now done!" the proctor said in a happy-go-lucky voice, "You've all earned your spots in the academy, and now only one last thing remains."
Huh?
"How many of you have unlocked your chakra?"
Oh.
Fuck.
I nervously looked around, and only twelve hands rose into the air. Thank god, it isn't unusual. I thought it would look pretty weird for only a few to have unlocked their chakra already.
"I see," she brought a hand to her chin. "Step to the front, both me and my assistant shall personally help you unlock it."
"Stay still while we help you, and pay attention to what we say. You'll..."
She proceeded to explain what they would do, and it was kind of similar to what I had done to unlock mine. Didn't know Konoha was this desperate for soldiers—the Nine Tails incident must've hit them hard, along with Orochimaru's defection.
It takes time and effort from both parties, which means this usually isn't done on a whim. Of course, people need to have their chakra unlocked from a young age if they want any chance at succeeding in this world. A child who can't tap into their chakra has no hope of becoming a ninja, let alone rising through the ranks.
An hour of nothing but silence and the occasional conversation went by, and they were finally done with the task at hand.
"There you go," she patted the last kid's shoulder. "Go back with the others, okay?"
"'Kay," he replied, looking slightly dazed but grateful.
"With that done, I'm glad to announce," the proctor paused for a moment. "I welcome you all to the Ninja Academy of Konoha! Here's to a new, bright future!"
About time.