But isn't life like this? There is no motivation without pressure.
Watching the meat slowly turn golden over the flame, Saitama carefully sprinkled spices little by little. As the heat intensified, a rich aroma began to rise, carried by the sizzling fat. But even in moments like this—surrounded by warmth and good food—Saitama didn't allow himself to relax.
The new semester had just begun, and Saitama was already preparing to apply for early graduation. Though he was confident in his abilities, he knew preparation was essential.
Bringing a portion of freshly grilled meat to Granny Kaka, Saitama gathered his gear and made his way toward the training woods.
Snow blanketed the treetops, and the chill in the air bit at his skin, but it didn't deter him. If anything, this kind of climate was ideal for building endurance and mental toughness.
In this harsh environment, Saitama practiced diligently—kunai, shuriken, kenjutsu, ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu. Chakra coursed steadily through his body, his stamina and focus seemingly endless. Every motion, every repetition was a step forward.
A burning desire to grow stronger fueled him. That desire drove him to push past his limits.
In this world, reality is cruel. Without strength, life becomes hollow—dominated by fear and regret.
Saitama refused to give in. He couldn't afford to.
"Sharingan!"
Two tomoe swirled into existence within his eyes.
Gripping several kunai, Saitama dashed toward a tall tree and ran straight up its trunk, chakra-focused soles defying gravity with practiced control. With a sharp kick, he launched himself into the air.
Spinning midair, Saitama descended headfirst—like an inverted spear—and hurled a barrage of shuriken that screamed through the cold air.
Even as they flew, his hands didn't rest. Drawing more blades from his pouch, he sent another volley with pinpoint precision.
Scarlet eyes scanned his surroundings with swift calculation.
Clang! Clang!
Clang! Clang!
The sound of steel striking steel echoed through the woods.
As he landed, Saitama twisted his body, absorbing the impact with both feet in a textbook-perfect landing.
Boom!
All the shuriken had struck their designated targets with flawless accuracy.
His Sharingan faded, returning to its black-and-white state, but Saitama didn't need to look. He already knew he'd hit every mark. His ninja tool proficiency had reached a peak—both in power and finesse.
Brushing nonexistent dust from his clothes, Saitama gathered his tools. Today's training was complete.
---
Later...
"So, you two are applying for early graduation?"
The bald-headed headmaster of the Ninja Academy looked bewildered.
He stared at the two Uchiha boys standing before him. Was the world really teeming with so many geniuses now?
Was he the one out of touch?
After confirming they were serious, the headmaster realized this was something he couldn't decide alone.
"I'll need to consult with the Hokage on this matter. Return to class for now—I'll let you know as soon as I have an answer."
With a forced smile, he dismissed them.
"Thank you, sir," said Shisui politely.
Saitama gave a respectful nod.
---
Back in the classroom, Iruka raised an eyebrow as the two returned.
"Saitama, Shisui—where did you guys go just now?"
Saitama didn't see a reason to lie to his first real friend at the Academy.
"Shisui and I applied for early graduation. We went to speak with the headmaster."
"What?!"
Iruka covered his mouth in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief.
But then his expression softened into something more resigned.
"Well… you're both from the Uchiha clan. I guess early graduation makes sense for you."
His voice dropped slightly, eyes downcast.
Though Iruka trained diligently, he lacked the natural talent of some of his classmates. Despite his efforts, he struggled to keep pace. Deep down, he admired and envied the genius of students like Saitama and Shisui—even if he rarely voiced it.
Saitama quietly patted Iruka on the shoulder. Without saying anything more, he returned to his seat, while Shisui headed toward the back of the room.
---
At that moment, in the Hokage's office...
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," said Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage.
Kawashima, the balding headmaster of the Ninja Academy, entered with a conflicted expression.
"Oh? Kawashima, what brings you here?"
The Hokage looked surprised. The Academy year had only just begun—surely there was still plenty to manage on-site?
Setting aside his documents, the Hokage lit his pipe and gave Kawashima his full attention.
Kawashima cleared his throat.
"Today… two Uchiha children submitted applications for early graduation exams."