Chapter 14: The Echo of a Vanish
And today, in the very discipline where they were said to excel, an Uchiha chūnin had been matched—no, outmaneuvered—by a child of the Hyūga in a contest of ninjutsu speed.
The moment he heard Reitō's voice behind him, something primal in Uchiha Fusa's shinobi instincts screamed. His body reacted before his pride could protest, executing another Body Replacement in a desperate, reflexive attempt to regain control, to put distance between himself and that unnerving presence.
Bam!
He appeared on the opposite side of the room, the world snapping back into focus. But the focus included a silhouette materializing directly in his new periphery. Almost simultaneously, as if his own displacement had cast a shadow that solidified into flesh, Reitō appeared a half-step behind him once more.
The timing was so precise it felt less like a sequence and more like a mirrored echo.
This time, the silence in the room wasn't stunned; it was frozen solid. Even the dust motes in the shafts of light seemed suspended.
This was no longer about speed alone. Reitō had performed two consecutive Body Replacements, the second of which required him to first perceive Fusa's chosen endpoint, then initiate and complete his own technique. Logically, this should have introduced a fatal delay. Yet the result was a near-perfect simultaneity. The complexity was geometrically higher, the demonstration of control so absolute it bordered on the preternatural.
Reitō didn't wait for a reaction. With another soft bam of displaced air, he was back at his original starting position before the examiners' table, as if the entire dizzying display had been a brief, localized ripple in reality.
His voice, when it came, was a study in calm inquiry. "I trust this satisfactorily demonstrates the requisite proficiency for Class A placement?"
The question, posed so mildly after such a staggering exhibition, left the adults in the room momentarily bereft of speech. It was unbelievable. Was this truly the clan's "tail feather"? The notion was now a laughable absurdity.
If this was mediocrity, then what child in all of Konoha could rightfully be called a genius? Even the much-vaunted prodigies of the Uchiha clan, with their hereditary advantages, would find their light dimmed in the shadow of such effortless, seal-less mastery.
The silence stretched, longer and more profound than any before.
"Examiners," Reitō prompted, his tone still polite but now carrying an undeniable, unyielding weight. "I await your verdict."
"Ah—yes! Of course!" The chūnin named Ino blurted out, jolted from his stupor.
"Pass! You have absolutely passed!" the other examiner affirmed, his voice firm with a conviction that had been absent moments ago. "Class A. Without question."
Their gazes upon Reitō had undergone a sea change. Awe had replaced pity, and a sharp, professional assessment had overridden any earlier bias. Flawed Byakugan or not, they were witnessing a raw, tactical talent of a caliber that appeared perhaps once in a generation.
Just as they moved to formalize the decision, Uchiha Fusa's voice cut through the room, ragged with suppressed fury. "No! He will not enter Class A!"
"On what grounds?" Reitō demanded, his own anger finally breaking through his calm veneer, his voice turning to ice.
"Grounds?" Fusa spat, his face a mask of vindictive triumph. "Your insubordination! Your blatant provocation of an examiner! A character so rebellious, so disrespectful of hierarchy, has an unacceptably high probability of becoming a rogue ninja! You should not only be barred from Class A—you should be denied admission to the Academy entirely!"
The accusation was so transparently petty, so divorced from the demonstration of skill they had all witnessed, that it crossed a line.
This time, the other two examiners did not remain silent. The one named Ino slammed a hand on the table, his own face flushed with anger. "Uchiha Fusa-senpai! You will mind your words! This candidate's performance has been evaluated and deemed exceptional by a majority of this panel. Our decision stands. If you wish to formally contest it, we will be forced to escalate the matter directly to the Third Hokage for final arbitration!"
The invocation of the Hokage's authority made Fusa flinch, a flicker of genuine fear in his Sharingan-bright eyes. The political fallout of such a dispute, rooted in such obvious personal bias, would be catastrophic for him.
"Fine," he hissed through clenched teeth, the word a concession that cost him dearly. "If you are so determined. But this boy… his arrogance is a sickness. Since his own clan has failed to teach him humility, I will provide the lesson. Let him understand the gap between a child's tricks and a true shinobi's power!"
As he spoke, his killing intent solidified, a chilling pressure that filled the room. His decision was made. He could not kill the boy here, but he could "accidentally" maim him during a "demonstration," crippling that terrifying potential before it could ever threaten the Uchiha's standing.
"I think you'll find that more difficult than you imagine," Reitō replied, his voice steady. His internal vision was already active, mapping the flow of Fusa's chakra, anticipating the surge. Outwardly, he seemed to glance almost imperceptibly toward the veteran chūnin Morita, still standing motionless by the door.
His fearless composure in the face of a chūnin's unveiled hostility was, in itself, a kind of defiance that baffled Uchiha Fusa. What is his play? Is it the Body Replacement again? Fusa's mind raced. No. A child his size, after three high-speed displacements in quick succession… his chakra reserves must be scraping the bottom. He has no cards left. It's just empty bravado.
Secure in this assumption, Fusa's expression hardened into one of cold resolution.
Seeing the clear intent in Fusa's posture, the two other examiners finally moved from protest to intervention, their voices rising in alarm. "Fusa-senpai! Stand down!"
But Fusa was already in motion, a blur of dark intent aimed straight at Reitō, his hand shaped not for a seal, but for a crippling strike to the boy's chakra network. The lesson, he had decided, would be written in ruptured meridians.