Standing at the Academy's rooftop Raijin checked the place around him. His stomach tightened with confusion. Kaiyo had said 10 PM, hadn't he? Because, the empty rooftop offered no answers, only the gentle whisper of wind and distant sounds of the village below.
The top floor of the Academy was eerily quiet. Students and teachers were absent for the Graduation Exam. Raijin settled against a wall, cross-legged, trying to make sense of the situation. He was 10 minutes ahead of the scheduled time, i.e., he was at the Academy's rooftop at 9:50 a.m.
After five minutes of solitude, the murmurs and whispered voices broke through the eerie silence.
"I told you he can't even perform the simplest technique."
"I thought he could… He showed me his Kenjutsu."
Raijin turned toward the stairwell as five children emerged—two girls and three boys, all dressed in the standard Academy training gear. One of the boys, tall with dark hair, shot Raijin a questioning glance, but before he could speak, a commanding voice rang out, cutting through the quiet.
"Gather here!"
Raijin immediately recognized the instructor—the same one who had overseen his entrance examination two years ago. The long scar across his face seemed more pronounced in the morning light, creating shadows that made his stern expression even more intimidating.
The five students quickly snapped into line, and Raijin joined them without hesitation.
The five students displayed subtle reactions to Raijin's presence—an almost imperceptible shift in posture, a slight widening of the eyes, or a barely noticeable jerk of surprise. Despite the age gap, none of them dared comment on it. Because there were many cases of early graduation for different students. Also, the quiet recognition of the scarred face instructor as well as his presence and authority kept their words in check.
More students filed onto the rooftop over the next few minutes, their movements quiet and purposeful.
The scarred instructor's eyes moved methodically, counting each arrival. Once the flow of students finally stopped, he cleared his throat. "First, you will all take a written test," he announced, making each word feel like a command. "Time limit: 60 minutes. You will be examined individually, with a Chūnin as your invigilator."
At his signal, a handful of Chūnins emerged from the shadows of the doorway, their flak jackets unmistakably marking their rank. Their movements were swift, precise, and efficient as they began ushering students into different classrooms, their instructions sharp and clear.
Raijin followed his assigned invigilator—a kunoichi with short brown hair—down to an empty classroom on the third floor.
When they entered the room, Raijin's eyes immediately fell on the desks. The test papers were already laid out, face-down, each sheet meticulously placed in front of an empty chair. He sat, the old wooden chair creaking under his weight as he settled. The air in the room felt still, the anticipation of the exam almost tangible. At the invigilator's subtle signal, Raijin turned the paper over and began.
The history section was straightforward; questions about the founding of Konoha, the First Shinobi World War, and the establishment of the Academy system. The answers flowed easily, each coming as second nature to him, his mind clear and focused.
Physics and chemistry followed naturally. He easily answered questions on the trajectory of throwing weapons, the composition of smoke bombs, and the basic principles of nature transformation.
Geography posed no challenge either, having memorized the topographical maps of the Five Great Nations months ago.
But then came the Art of War section, and Raijin's hand paused for a moment. The questions here were more intricate, demanding a deeper understanding and a thoughtful approach. One question stood out: A three-man team encounters an enemy force of unknown size in hostile territory. The mission is time-sensitive, but engaging the enemy could risk the entire operation. What factors should be considered in the decision-making process?
Raijin's pencil moved steadily across the paper as he broke down the scenario. He considered the mission parameters, the need for precision, risk assessment, the capabilities of his team, and the potential outcomes. It wasn't about having perfect answers—he understood the principles at play, the balance between risk and reward, and the importance of making decisions based on logic, not emotion.
Finishing ahead of schedule, Raijin reviewed his answers one final time, checking for any mistakes or missed details. Satisfied with his work, he raised his hand, signaling the invigilator.
The kunoichi approached with a graceful smile, gathering his paper without a word. She gestured for him to follow her, and as they walked toward another room, she glanced over at him.
"You seem to be the youngest among the examinees," she remarked, her smile warm and friendly.
"I am?" Raijin asked, his expression remaining neutral, though his curiosity was piqued.
"Yeah!" she responded with a bright smile. "Best of luck on the next exam. I really hope you pass."
Raijin nodded, returning her smile with one of his own. "Thank you."
They reached the next room, which was sparsely furnished with only a single desk at the back against the wall. Raijin's gaze immediately fell on the lone figure sitting behind it. It was none other than the same scarred instructor.
The instructor sat quietly, flipping through files with methodical precision, his sharp eyes scanning each document with quiet intensity. In the stillness of the room, the weight of his presence seemed to fill every corner, making the atmosphere even more intense.
The instructor was already reading through what appeared to be Raijin's file when he finally looked up. The scar across his face caught the light from the window, adding a harsh, angular contrast to his otherwise stoic expression. His eyes locked onto Raijin, and in that instant, the atmosphere shifted again.
"Bukijutsu?" The question came abruptly.
"U-Uh... pardon?" Raijin stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry.
"Are you proficient in any weapons?" The instructor repeated, his voice remained professional.
Raijin straightened his posture with confidence. "Yes, Shurikenjutsu and Kenjutsu..."
"Hmm..." The instructor made a note in the file. "Can you perform the Clone Jutsu, Transformation Jutsu, and Substitution Jutsu?"
"Yes."
"Okay, Demonstrate the Clone Jutsu."
Raijin paused for a split second, deciding whether to perform instantly or with a more deliberate pace. Instead of rushing, he chose to proceed with deliberate slowness, allowing each hand seal to flow smoothly into the next. His hands moved through the seals with practiced precision: Ram → Snake → Tiger.
His chakra flowed smoothly, and in a puff of smoke, three perfect clones materialized beside him. Each copy stood at attention, matching his posture to the subtle rise and fall of their chests.
The scarred instructor's eyes narrowed slightly. He analyzed the clone and said, "Dispel them."
Raijin complied, releasing a pulse of chakra. The clones vanished in an instant, leaving only a faint trace of smoke in the air. The instructor made another note, his expression still unreadable, before glancing up at Raijin again.
"Transformation Jutsu. Transform into…" His gaze landed on a potted plant near the window. "That. Can you?" He glanced back at Raijin. It was unusual to ask a student to transform into an inanimate object, but seeing Raijin's confidence and proper three Clones, the scarred face decided to ask anyway. If Raijin couldn't he could ask Raijin to transform into himself. But…
Raijin formed the necessary hand seals, channeling his chakra with careful precision. He focused intently, feeling the energy course through him, before releasing it in a burst of controlled power. In a swirl of smoke, he transformed into a perfect replica of the potted plant, capturing every minute detail—from the texture of the leaves to the subtle wilting of one in particular.
The scarred face studied him carefully, clearly impressed. He spoke instantly, "Release and perform the Substitution Jutsu."
Raijin took a slow breath, feeling the drain of chakra from maintaining such an intricate transformation. He let the plant form dissolve in a puff of smoke, returning to his normal self. Without hesitation, he moved seamlessly into the next technique. His hands blurred with the speed of his motion as the hand seals flowed effortlessly from one to the next.
In the blink of an eye, Raijin vanished from his spot, only to reappear across the room—his body now occupying the position of a sturdy wooden chair. The transition was smooth, the motion fluid, and the action completely devoid of any stumbles or hesitation. Raijin remained motionless for a moment, standing tall as the calm focus that had carried him through the previous techniques still radiated from his every movement.
The instructor nodded slowly, a faint hint of approval in his eyes. His pen moved more deliberately as he took more detailed notes, though there was a hint of something else in his expression. After a pause, he gave a barely perceptible nod. "Impressive. You mentioned proficiency in Shurikenjutsu. Follow me."
They made their way to the indoor training ground, where various targets had been set up at different distances and angles. Some were partially obscured by obstacles, while others were mounted on moving mechanisms, designed to test precision and timing.
The instructor handed Raijin eight Shurikens, their weight noticeably different from the ones he was accustomed to—slightly heavier but still familiar. "Hit as many targets as you can with these," the instructor said, his tone crisp and no-nonsense. "You have one attempt."
Raijin tested the weight of the shuriken, gauging the subtle shift in balance as he held them. Without hesitation, he leaped into the air, twisting his body as he released the shuriken in rapid succession. Each throw was calculated with laser-like precision, the shuriken spinning through the air toward their targets. Some of the Shurikens ricocheted off one another, colliding with the obstacles in their path and finding their marks in ways that would seem impossible to an untrained eye.
When he landed, the final impact of the last shuriken still echoed in the air. Raijin straightened up, his chest rising and falling steadily, his focus unbroken. All eight shuriken had found their targets, each one dead center in the bullseye. Even the most difficult moving target had been struck with flawless precision.
The instructor's expression remained neutral, though his pen moved more slowly as he took detailed notes. The silence lingered for a moment before he gave a barely perceptible nod. "Impressive. Let's continue."
A wooden practice sword appeared in the instructor's hands, its surface worn but sturdy. "Show me the basic forms."
Raijin nodded and, without hesitation, stepped into position. He moved through the traditional kata with fluid precision, each stance flowing seamlessly into the next. His movements were precise and deliberate, each cut and block executed with the kind of ease that only came from years of dedicated practice. The wooden sword seemed to become an extension of his body as if it were part of his being.
The instructor watched closely, his gaze sharp as Raijin flowed through the forms, clearly impressed by the fluidity and control.
"Good." the instructor said, holding up a hand to signal Raijin to stop.
Raijin lowered the sword and stood at attention, his body still radiating the calm intensity of a warrior. The instructor made another note in the file, and for a moment, the silence between them seemed almost contemplative.
Then, without warning, the instructor stood from behind the desk, his expression shifting from detached professionalism to one of quiet, almost palpable intensity and maybe some flicker of excitement.
"Now that I have seen your skill, let's see how you perform under pressure," the scarred-face instructor said, his voice suddenly colder. "We'll spar."
A spar? With him?
The instructor took a few steps back, cracking his neck as he took a ready stance. Raijin quickly adjusted his footing, preparing for the fight. His mind raced as he analyzed the situation—he would need to be strategic, and precise, and maintain his composure.
"Ready?" The instructor's eyes narrowed as he assessed Raijin.
Raijin nodded once, his heart beating in a steady rhythm. "Ready."
The instructor's voice was almost growling now. "Begin."
Before Raijin could fully react, the instructor surged forward, his movements swift and powerful, an explosion of force. Raijin sidestepped the punch just in time, feeling the rush of air as the instructor's fist whizzed past his head, narrowly missing its target.
The instructor didn't give him a moment to breathe, following up with a series of rapid strikes aimed at Raijin's torso. Raijin blocked with his forearms, remaining calm, his focus unwavering. He was far from flustered, but he knew he needed to stay defensive.
Each exchange felt like a blur, with the instructor's attacks becoming faster and more precise. But Raijin adapted, his body shifting effortlessly between blocks and dodges, his every movement honed and reactive.
After what felt like an eternity, the instructor finally stepped back, his breathing steady but still filled with a hint of exertion. The instructor said, "We're done here. You passed. Return to the classroom and wait until called."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Raijin stood still.
…
The next hour was perhaps the most challenging part of the examination—the waiting. Other students came and went, some exuding confidence, others clearly deflated.
Raijin sat in silence, his mind replaying every spar detail, analyzing his performance from different angles. Sparring against a Jōnin wasn't new to him; he had been on the receiving end of plenty of tough lessons before. Haruko had wiped the floor with him on numerous occasions. And yet, there were times when he had managed to avoid a complete defeat.
This time, however, it felt different. There was a sense of freedom in his movements, a certain ease he hadn't experienced when facing Haruko's relentless pressure and barrage of strikes.
Finally, his name was called. Raijin stood and entered a different room, where three instructors sat behind a long desk. Among them was the scarred instructor who had evaluated him earlier. On the desk in front of them lay several forehead protectors, their metal plates gleaming in the afternoon light.
The scarred instructor spoke first. "Raijin, your performance today has been evaluated across multiple criteria: academic knowledge, practical skills, chakra control, and combat techniques. Your written test scores were among the highest we've seen this year. Your execution of the basic Academy Jutsu was flawless, and your weapons proficiency is exceptional for your age."
The instructor seated beside the scarred face spoke up. "You even managed to pique his interest and spar," he said, pointing at the scarred instructor. "That's impressive."
Another instructor, a woman with gray-streaked hair, stepped forward holding a forehead protector. "Congratulations, Raijin," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You have earned the rank of Genin of Konohagakure." The metal plate caught the light, and the leaf symbol of Konoha reflected on its surface.
"We'll report to the Academy and your class instructor tomorrow," the scarred-faced instructor said. "You're dismissed until the official graduation ceremony."
Stepping out into the afternoon sun, Raijin looked down at the forehead protector in his hands as he muttered, "Marigold and Pomegranate"
***
Blooper:
Finishing ahead of schedule, Raijin reviewed his answers one final time, checking for any mistakes or missed details. Satisfied with his work, he raised his hand, signaling the invigilator.
The kunoichi approached with a graceful smile, gathering his paper without a word. She gestured for him to follow her, and as they walked toward another room, she glanced over at him.
"You seem to be the youngest among the examinees," she remarked, her smile warm and friendly.
Raijin glanced at her, a mischievous thought crossing his mind. 'Is she hitting on me?' He quickly shook it off, trying to stay focused. 'Focus, Raijin. Stay professional.'
"I am?" Raijin asked, his expression remaining neutral, though his curiosity was piqued.
"Yeah!" she responded with a bright smile. "Best of luck on the next exam. I really hope you pass."
Raijin gave her a smirk and leaned in slightly. "No, I'll Smash," he said, his tone suggesting something much less innocent than the exam.
The kunoichi blinked at him, clearly caught off guard, her eyes widening slightly.
"I mean—uh, I meant pass!" he stammered, trying to backpedal as quickly as possible.
The kunoichi gave him a slow, knowing smile. "Uh-huh," she said, her voice dripping with amusement as she raised an eyebrow. "Sure, you will."
***