Throwing weapons was one of the first skills taught in the Academy — basic, in theory.
But in practice, freshly graduated genin rarely had the reflexes to use them in real combat.
Only true prodigies — like Kakashi or Uchiha Itachi — had mastered the art at six or seven years old.
Moments ago, Kimoto Tōichi had launched a full-strength barrage of kunai and shuriken.
Even an average chūnin would've struggled to block them all.
Yet Arata not only blocked the attack — he tracked every projectile's path in real time.
It wasn't luck.
It was proof.
His coordination, his perception, and his body's responsiveness were on a completely different level.
Even Tōichi himself hadn't possessed that level of control at twelve.
Arata, of course, had no idea what was going through his teacher's mind.
He was still annoyed — but that was all. Anger, not rebellion.
At his current strength, there wasn't much he could do about it.
Tōichi finally approached the three students.
"Enough for now," he said flatly. "Today, we're taking on our first mission."
At those words, Tanako and Itsuki's fear instantly vanished, replaced by pure excitement.
"Really, Sensei? We can already take missions?"
Tōichi nodded with his usual expressionless calm.
"Of course. For now, you're limited to C-rank or below. During missions, I'll continue your training."
His tone cooled, a faint smile twisting his lips.
"Be prepared — my training methods aren't exactly gentle."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Arata.
"But I imagine you're looking forward to that."
Arata frowned.
"Sensei, we just graduated. Wasn't that little 'test' just now… a bit much?"
Tōichi clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"For them, perhaps. For you, it's an opportunity."
Arata understood what he meant — Tōichi intended to polish him harder than the others.
He didn't protest. He did want to learn whatever jutsu Tōichi could teach.
Still, he glanced toward Tanako and Itsuki.
They weren't prodigies, and an Anbu-level regimen might break them before it made them stronger.
Seeing Arata's silence, Tōichi chuckled softly.
"Let's go. Time to visit the Hokage's office."
Tanako and Itsuki, oblivious to the tension between their teacher and Arata, bounced with excitement at the thought of their first real assignment.
High above the training ground, hidden among the branches, Kakashi had been watching the entire exchange.
A small orange book rested loosely in his hand — unopened, unread.
He'd seen everything.
"So it's not just his chakra," Kakashi murmured.
"His reflexes… his vision… they're already beyond most jōnin."
The kunai Tōichi had thrown weren't random. Each had been aimed from different angles, trajectories designed to overwhelm. Even a trained chūnin would've failed to react in time.
Yet Arata had moved before thought — anticipating the attack, intercepting every strike with surgical precision.
Kakashi's gaze deepened.
"That kind of perception… almost like a Sharingan user."
He wondered, fleetingly—
Could he even learn Chidori?
Arata's reflexes, his sharpness, his stability — everything about him was perfect for it.
But Chidori wasn't just a jutsu. It was an A-rank forbidden technique.
Teaching it to an outsider would be reckless.
Besides, even Kakashi himself had required a month of special training — and his Sharingan to control the tunnel-vision effect. Without the Sharingan, Chidori's blinding speed could just as easily get its user killed.
He sighed softly.
"Still… if that boy ever truly applies himself, he might rival even the Fourth someday."
Watching Arata's angry reaction when Tōichi endangered his teammates had changed Kakashi's mind.
That emotion had been real.
Protectiveness, not ego.
The same drive Minato once had — the same heart Kakashi once lost.
"At least he values his comrades," Kakashi said quietly. "More than I did at his age."
A small, wistful smile crossed his face.
"That guy Tōichi's lucky — finding a kid like that."
He vanished into the trees, leaving the field silent again.
Later that morning, Team 11 reached the Hokage's office inside the towering red-roofed building.
The Third Hokage listened to their formal introductions with grandfatherly patience, his eyes half-smiling through the haze of pipe smoke.
Nothing in Arata's presence struck him as unusual.
Neither Asuma, nor Kakashi, nor Tōichi had mentioned what they'd discovered.
From the office balcony, the Hokage watched as the young team filed out — three bright new leaves on the great tree of Konoha.
Outside, they happened to cross paths with another trio — Team 7.
"Hey! Arata!" Naruto called out, waving enthusiastically. "What mission did you guys get?"
Arata smiled faintly. "Just a D-rank. Our first, so nothing fancy."
Naruto grinned proudly. "Ha! We're probably getting a C-rank this time!"
Arata raised an eyebrow. "Then good luck with that," he said lightly.
Kakashi, standing behind Naruto, observed quietly. His single visible eye softened in approval.
Arata's composure, his quiet confidence — it was the kind of steadiness he wished his own team had.
Beside him, Sasuke frowned slightly.
The name "Arata" stirred no clear memory. He couldn't even recall if they'd been in the same class.
Sakura, meanwhile, was studying Arata with a surprised look.
He's… actually kind of handsome.
Her eyes flicked briefly to Sasuke, then back to Arata.
He's calm, polite… and somehow familiar with Naruto? How does someone like that even get along with him?
For the first time, Arata had begun to draw the eyes of others — quietly, without trying.
And though the day's mission was nothing but a routine D-rank, something in the air had shifted.
The shadows had started to notice him.
And the village, though it didn't yet know it, had already begun to whisper the name Arata.
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