The second week back at the academy brought the much-anticipated yearly test—a comprehensive evaluation of everything the students had learned the previous year. For most students, it was nerve-wracking, but for Haruto, it was an opportunity. With his Tier 2 Cognitive Ability and relentless training, he felt more than ready. In his mind, this test was foundational, something every aspiring ninja should master with ease. It was time to show his teachers just how far he had come.
As Haruto sat down and began the written portion of the test, he moved through the questions quickly. Chakra control, basic ninjutsu techniques, shinobi history—it was all familiar ground for him. His enhanced mind processed the information with ease, and he felt confident in each answer he wrote down.
But when he reached a question about the Clone Jutsu, he paused.
The question was simple enough:
"In which situation would the Clone Jutsu be most effectively used during a combat scenario?"
The typical answer was obvious. The Clone Jutsu was taught as a distraction tool, best used to confuse enemies and create openings for attack. But Haruto saw more than that. He had spent time thinking about how to use techniques in ways that went beyond the basics. His mind began to form a different response, one based on advanced strategy. He wrote about using clones not just for distraction, but to simulate chakra-infused techniques that could trick an opponent into making critical errors—facing attacks that weren't real but felt real enough to force costly reactions.
He paused for a moment before finishing the answer, considering whether he was overcomplicating it. But in his mind, the basics felt too simple. He had already mastered them, or at least that's how he saw it. There was no need to give the conventional answer when he could offer something more insightful.
Haruto didn't bother seeking advice from anyone else about the test. He believed that his training, his hours in the library, and his unique approach were enough. Besides, he had never felt the need to ask for help—why would he, when he always managed to figure things out on his own?
Satisfied with his advanced response, he handed in the paper, certain he had aced the test.
A few days later, the students gathered to receive their results. Haruto sat near the front, his confidence still intact. One by one, the teacher, Rika Toriyama, handed out the graded papers. When she reached Haruto's name, she paused slightly, a brief flicker of something in her eyes.
"Haruto Takeda," she called, her voice steady.
Haruto walked to the front and took his paper, noticing the neutral expression on her face.
"You did well," she said quietly. "But we need to talk after class."
Haruto nodded, returning to his seat. There was a weight in her words that he hadn't expected.
After class, Haruto stayed behind, approaching Rika's desk. She didn't look up immediately, instead thumbing through his test paper one last time before speaking.
"Your answers," she began, her voice thoughtful, "were interesting."
Haruto remained silent, unsure of where this was going.
"You did well overall," she continued, "but some of your answers were… unconventional."
She held up his test, pointing to his response on the Clone Jutsu. "For example, your suggestion that clones could simulate chakra-infused techniques to manipulate an opponent's responses is an advanced application. In fact, it's a brilliant strategy."
Haruto felt a spark of pride at her words.
"But," she added, her tone shifting, "this was a foundational test. We were testing your understanding of the basics, and while your theory is sound, you skipped over the most important part—mastering the fundamentals."
Haruto frowned slightly, but remained silent.
Rika continued, her gaze sharp but not unkind. "The basics are the building blocks of everything we do as shinobi. No matter how advanced your thinking gets, ignoring them can be dangerous. It's good to think outside the box, but you can't lose sight of the foundation. Sometimes, the simplest answer is the best one."
Haruto felt a mix of frustration and understanding. He knew she was right. He had allowed his confidence—maybe even his arrogance—to push him beyond what the test required. He often dismissed the basics, feeling that he had already mastered them, but he now realized that his eagerness to stand out had clouded his judgment.
"I understand," he said quietly, his voice measured. "I'll keep that in mind."
Rika gave a small nod, her expression softening. "Good. You have potential, Haruto. Just remember, even the most brilliant shinobi don't ignore the basics."
As Haruto left the classroom, Rika watched him go, her eyes narrowing in thought. Haruto Takeda—there was something special about him. His answer to the Clone Jutsu question had impressed her far more than she let on. It wasn't just his ability to think beyond the standard teachings; it was the depth of his understanding and the creativity in his application of the technique. He had the potential to be great, but she had seen this before—brilliance mixed with arrogance. And she knew all too well where that path could lead.
She picked up his test again, rereading his unorthodox answer. Haruto was right, in a way. His theory on using clones to simulate chakra-infused techniques wasn't just correct—it was better than what most students could conceive of at this stage. But he had missed the point of the test. He had been so focused on proving his advanced thinking that he had overlooked the importance of mastering the basics.
Rika had seen talented shinobi who let their arrogance get the better of them. They believed their intelligence or skill made them immune to the fundamentals, only to falter when they ignored the very foundation of what made a shinobi strong. She didn't want Haruto to make that mistake. Potential could be a double-edged sword, and unchecked arrogance could undo even the most promising ninja.
Rika set the test aside, her mind made up. She would keep an eye on Haruto, guiding him where necessary. He had the makings of a future shinobi who could do great things, but only if he learned to balance his brilliance with humility.
As she looked at the classroom door where Haruto had just exited, she allowed herself a small smile. With the right guidance, Haruto Takeda could become something extraordinary.
But if he didn't learn to temper his arrogance, it could just as easily undo all his potential.