Konoha organized its freshly minted genin into groups of three, each of which was then assigned to a jonin instructor to form a classic four-man team. In the academy, we were taught all about the supposed advantages of this system—teamwork, camaraderie, and fluffy nothings of that sort—but I secretly harbored great disdain for it.
Now, I was not the least bit concerned about Konoha's military efficiency per se . For all the village's supposed might, Uchiha Itachi was still at large. The administration claimed that Itachi was such a dangerous individual that any attempts to apprehend or eliminate him would be far too costly, likely resulting in the loss of many elite ninja. I was immediately skeptical, but I could not gather enough reliable data to confirm or falsify the claims. Information on elite ninja was, in general, highly restricted. I could have probably gotten away with mucking around on a peaceful job in the cryptography or medical department. I couldn't have cared less about the stigma. What I did care about was information, "know thy enemy" and all that, and I didn't need wave functions realize that field work would be much more conducive to gathering data on high-level combatants.
That was how I got in the genin clown car, and now that I was in it, I was not happy about the system's glaring problems. For starters, each jonin instructor faced no competition for his or her students, which logically leads to a reduced quality and quantity of instruction. The unchanging composition of the teams also meant natural inefficiencies arising inevitably in certain scenarios. With so many issues evident a priori , I was sure experience would only reveal more problems. I was damn right.
My genin team comprised Haruno Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto, and myself. Hatake Kakashi was assigned as the instructor.
I was not impressed by Sakura. She was obviously intelligent, but her practical skills were nothing to speak of, and they did not seem liable to improvement anytime soon, seeing as she had an inexplicable infatuation with me—a common affliction among the girls of the academy, in those days.
I was, in a way, impressed by Naruto. Indeed, his loud mouth, foul habits, and general imbecility left a deep impression on me during our academy years. He also had an obsession with me. More precisely, he was obsessed with defeating me in single combat, even though I had made no secret of my distaste for sparring. Clearly, my inclinations did not matter. Even at a young age, Naruto displayed significant war-mongering tendencies. To put it lightly, I had some misgivings about his inclusion in the team.
These misgivings soon took a back seat to my apprehensions about the instructor. From my reading, Hatake Kakashi was, by all accounts, an elite even among Konoha jonin. However, as the time for our first rendezvous passed, and no Kakashi was to be seen, I began to have unpleasant thoughts. Perhaps, Kakashi's literary representation had more to do with state censorship than with meritorious accomplishments. Perhaps, Kakashi was just a crony of the establishment, arrogant enough to entirely disregard his associates, but in reality, incompetent and indolent.
As per usual, my predictions were damn right, and I wouldn't have celebrated either way.