Chapter 12: Shifting the Goalposts
Uchiha Fusa's expression shifted from frustrated disbelief to one of calculated dismissal. He steepled his fingers, adopting the air of a bureaucrat forced to make a difficult but necessary ruling.
"Very well, Hyūga Reitō," he began, his voice taking on a tone of false regret. "While you have indeed awakened a dōjutsu, the fact that it is fundamentally flawed—lacking the core functionality of the Byakugan—means you have not fully inherited the bloodline limit. Therefore, you do not meet the strict criteria for automatic admission without examination. A pity, but rules are rules."
He paused, watching Reitō's face. The boy's brief look of confusion was satisfying. He glanced at the other two examiners; they looked uneasy but remained silent, unwilling to challenge his interpretation of the obscure regulation. A thin smile touched Fusa's lips. He had regained control of the narrative.
"Consequently," he continued, his voice firmer now, "I must judge you by the standard metrics. And based on your performance, while sufficient for admission, it only merits placement in… Class B."
Class B. The words hung in the air. Reitō's mind reeled. Hizashi had been clear: mastery of a single C-rank technique like the Body Replacement was the benchmark for Class A. This was a blatant, targeted demotion.
"That's not fair," Reitō stated, his voice flat, cutting through the officious atmosphere. "The known standard for Class A qualification is the successful performance of a C-rank ninjutsu. I have done that. Why am I being placed in Class B?"
Insolent brat, Fusa thought, his anger simmering anew. Even allowing you into Class B is a mercy you don't deserve. He forced his expression into one of patient, almost paternal disappointment.
"You misunderstand," Fusa said, shaking his head slowly. "While you performed the shape of the technique, the execution was… lacking. The casting speed was far too slow. The Body Replacement, to be tactically viable, requires a certain minimum velocity. Your performance, while technically correct, does not meet the operational standard required for the accelerated curriculum of Class A. Therefore, Class B is the appropriate placement."
Casting speed. Reitō almost laughed at the transparent excuse. So, this was the new hurdle. Uchiha Fusa would simply keep moving the goalpost until he fell.
"If that is the case," Reitō said, his tone dangerously calm, "then I would ask the examiner to demonstrate this 'operational standard.' Please, show me the speed required for Class A."
A flicker of surprise, then delight, crossed Fusa's features. "Oh? You wish to see it? Are you certain?" This was better than he'd hoped. The fool was walking straight into the trap. "Let me be clear: the standard is quite high. For a new student, it is essentially unattainable."
Seeing Reitō's unwavering nod, Fusa's internal triumph grew. If the boy wanted a contest of speed, he would be humiliated utterly. No untrained child could match the refined chakra control and muscle memory of a seasoned chūnin.
"Hmph. Very well. A lesson in humility, then." Fusa rose from his seat, the other examiners watching with a mixture of apprehension and pity. They understood what was happening: Fusa was about to set a bar so high that Reitō's earlier success would seem like a child's fumbling.
"In a true shinobi engagement," Fusa declared, "hesitation is death. The Body Replacement must be instinctual." He took a ready stance. Then, his hands became a blur—not the clear, separate seals Reitō had used, but a fluid, near-instantaneous sequence that was more a single gesture than three distinct movements.
Bam!
The sound of displaced air was sharp, percussive. One moment Uchiha Fusa stood by the examiners' table; the next, he was leaning casually against the far wall, over fifteen meters away. The entire process, from stillness to completion, took less than a second. It was a demonstration of polished, effortless skill meant to showcase an insurmountable gap.
The two junior chūnin exchanged a glance and gave slight, resigned shakes of their heads. It was overkill. They had seen enough candidates to know that Fusa had just performed at a level expected of a field-operational chūnin, not an Academy entrant. This wasn't setting a standard; it was building a wall.
Returning to his seat with a smug, measured pace, Fusa looked down at Reitō. "There. That is the minimum speed required for Class A consideration. If you can achieve this level of proficiency, I will personally approve your placement."
He saw Reitō standing motionless, simply staring at him. Good, Fusa thought, the cold satisfaction settling in his chest. He's realized the futility. He's been put in his place.
"You see the difference," Fusa said, his voice dripping with condescension. "If you cannot replicate this, do not waste our time further. We have many other candidates to evaluate. You must understand—"
He never finished the sentence.
Reitō's Byakugan flared to life around his eyes, the veins pulsing once. There was no blur of hands. No seal sequence. No gathering of visible chakra.
He simply wasn't there anymore.
Bam!
A softer, tighter sound of air displacement, directly beside Uchiha Fusa's chair. Reitō stood there, his posture relaxed, his flawed white eyes fixed on the chūnin's now-startled face.
"Is this speed," Reitō asked, his voice quiet but piercing in the stunned silence of the room, "sufficient to meet the operational standard for the Body Replacement Technique?"
"Wha—?!" The exclamation was ripped from Uchiha Fusa's throat, his eyes wide with pure, uncomprehending shock.
The other two examiners jolted to their feet, their chairs scraping loudly against the floor. The veteran chūnin by the door, Morita, who had watched the entire proceeding with detached boredom, now stood straight, his eyes sharp and focused on Reitō.
In the dead quiet of the room, the truth was undeniable. Not only had Reitō matched the speed, he had surpassed it in one critical, impossible aspect: he had done it without any hand seals at all. The speed of his execution was not just fast; it was instantaneous, breaking the fundamental paradigm of how ninjutsu was performed. The barrier Fusa had built wasn't just cleared; it had been rendered irrelevant.