Chapter 28: Foundations and Rivalries
Sai-sensei's smile remained benign, but his eyes held a glint of cold appraisal. "A simple test of practical application," he elaborated, his voice smooth. "One that rewards competence and… filters out inadequacy. The ninja world has no use for those who cannot perform under pressure."
"A test, you say?" Uno-sensei grunted, his stern face considering. He disliked politics and pampering, but he respected results. "Rewarding the capable and weeding out the weak… that aligns with my philosophy. Very well. We'll see what this crop is truly made of."
The next morning, an air of heightened expectation hung over Class A. The two teachers were already present when the students filed in, their silent scrutiny more intimidating than any shouted order.
"What are you waiting for? Sit!" Uno-sensei's bark was a command, not a greeting.
The students scrambled to their seats. The morning passed in a rigorous review of theory—chakra control exercises, elemental affinity basics, and tactical deployment of standard tools. For Reitō, much of it was a re-contextualization of knowledge he'd absorbed from his inherited memories, but hearing it structured, formalized, was different. It gave the chaotic power within him a framework.
Afternoon meant the training grounds. As Class A, they had privileges: dedicated, well-maintained fields and unrestricted access to training equipment like kunai, shuriken, and log posts. There was no waiting, no rationing. It was a tangible symbol of the expectations placed upon them.
On the field, Uno-sensei stood before a line of wooden targets. In his hand, a standard kunai gleamed dully.
"You were taught the mechanics this morning," he began, his voice carrying easily over the open space. "Now, you learn the art." His arm blurred. Swish-thunk! The kunai buried itself dead-center in the bullseye of a target ten meters away. The motion was effortless, economic, lethal.
"Kunai are not just pointed metal," Uno continued, walking along the line of students. "They are an extension of your will. A ranged threat, a melee weapon, a tool for distraction, for breaking an enemy's rhythm, for creating openings. Mastery of the fundamentals is what separates a living shinobi from a dead one. You may never learn a high-level ninjutsu, but this," he held up another kunai, "this you must master."
Some students, particularly the Uchiha, wore expressions of faint boredom. Throwing knives was child's play.
Uno's eyes missed nothing. His expression hardened. "You think it's simple? Hitting a stationary target is for infants." As he spoke, he broke into a sudden, zig-zagging sprint. While moving at full speed, his arms snapped out four times in rapid succession. Th-th-th-thunk! Four kunai struck four different targets, each embedded in the center. He didn't even break stride. "Your enemy moves. Your aim must account for speed, trajectory, anticipation. This skill is forged through ten thousand repetitions. Your first task: hit a moving target within a ten-meter range. Begin with the short-range moving dummy."
He gestured to a series of pendulum-like wooden targets swinging in erratic arcs.
Uchiha Hibiki, eager to reclaim some pride after yesterday's debacle, stepped forward first. He took a kunai, eyed the swinging target with disdain, and let it fly. Thunk. A solid hit in the red center. Emboldened, he snatched two kunai in each hand, mimicking Uno's earlier demonstration. He darted to the side, and while moving, released all four. Th-th-th-thunk! All four struck true, peppering the target's center mass.
A smug, triumphant smirk spread across his face as he turned, his gaze deliberately seeking out and locking onto Reitō. The unspoken challenge hung in the air. Several of his Uchiha clansmen murmured appreciatively, their confidence restored.
Th-th-th-thunk!
The sound came from the next lane over. All heads turned. Namikaze Minato stood there, four kunai similarly embedded in his own moving target. He had performed the same exercise—rapid movement, simultaneous throws—with a calm, focused precision that made it look effortless. There was no smirk, no posturing. He simply met the standard, and in doing so, silently answered Hibiki's boast.
Uno-sensei's eyebrows rose slightly. A commoner with this level of ingrained skill? His file said he was self-taught with some militia-level mentoring. This was beyond promising; this was prodigious.
Next was Uzumaki Kushina. She didn't bother with a fancy run. She planted her feet, took a breath, and with four sharp, powerful flicks of her wrist, sent her kunai flying. THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK! The impacts were louder, deeper. All four hit dead center, the force making the target shudder on its pivot. Her raw power was unmistakable.
She then turned to the stunned Uchiha group, a brilliant, taunting grin on her face. "You guys are getting excited over this? Please. I had this down by the time I was six."
The collective Uchiha pride, momentarily buoyed by Hibiki, deflated completely. Their faces flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. The "tomato-headed" girl and the nobody commoner had just outclassed their "genius" in a fundamental skill. The hierarchy they took for granted was being challenged in the most basic arena.
All eyes now drifted to the last of the notable trio: Hyūga Reitō. The boy who moved like a ghost and spoke of breaking cages. How would he handle the simple, brutal test of the kunai?