"Hagoromo, Obito, Guy—I found out what's in the graduation exam."
"Rin, how'd you manage that?"
Nohara Rin had appeared beside them, which made her more or less the only girl willing to voluntarily approach the idiot-and-watermelon-head duo's little orbit.
Observant readers will already understand the situation. Yes, Kamishiro Hagoromo hung out with Obito and Guy specifically because it created a force field that repelled female attention. Sure, he was popular despite himself, but by sticking with these two walking trainwrecks, he maintained a reasonably peaceful school life.
"Rin, what's the exam?" Obito asked immediately, revealing that his earlier bravado about graduation wasn't as solid as he'd claimed.
"Combat. The graduation exam is combat. They'll rank us based on performance, then the instructors will decide who passes based on how each person fights."
"Meaning—if you perform well in the match, even losing doesn't automatically mean failing?" Hagoromo considered this briefly before reaching the conclusion.
"Exactly," Rin confirmed.
The dead-last duo beside her were already bouncing with excitement. Might Guy because combat basically guaranteed he'd pass. Obito for simpler reasons: compared to combat, written exams would absolutely destroy him.
"Hey... Hagoromo, what did you and Rin mean by that?"
After celebrating for a bit, Obito asked again. What did it mean, judging by performance? His dead-last brain couldn't process it.
"It means winning doesn't guarantee graduation—you could still fail. Losing doesn't automatically keep you stuck at the Academy either. If you fight well enough, you can still pass." Hagoromo spoke from genuine understanding. During wartime, this kind of evaluation made things much more practical.
"Ooooh~"
Obito and Guy wore synchronized expressions of sudden enlightenment.
"Class One, listen up! Report to Training Ground 8 immediately!" An Academy instructor shouted in their direction.
Abe Ayumu, 35 years old. Academy instructor. Chūnin. Surviving to this age during wartime without dying or losing limbs was roughly equivalent to the probability of a 60-year-old high-risk pregnancy ending successfully... He was basically Hagoromo's homeroom teacher.
The group followed their instructor to Training Ground 8.
Just as expected: the exam was combat.
Training Ground 8 wasn't far from the Academy. The thirty students of Class One arrived quickly.
Instructor Abe, ignoring the chorus of complaints, announced that the graduation exam would consist of combat matches.
Understandable really. Compared to demonstrating a few jutsu or filling out a test paper, most people found combat significantly less appealing.
He completely disregarded student objections, didn't even give them time to prepare, and immediately announced the first match pairings.
Hagoromo watched two background characters face off and nodded quietly to himself. Their skill level wasn't bad.
During wartime, ninja developed differently due to both Academy education and external circumstances. Example: pre-awakening Uchiha Obito was undeniably dead-last at the Academy, yet he'd still become chūnin by eleven. Meanwhile, peacetime eleven-year-olds hadn't even graduated yet.
Match after match passed. Soon, it was Hagoromo's turn.
"Match Six: Kamishiro Hagoromo versus Yūhi Kurenai!"
Hearing his name, Hagoromo didn't hesitate. He walked straight into the training ground.
Genjutsu. A method of mental attack. Using strong spiritual energy and seemingly casual but deliberate actions, sounds, images, objects, or drugs to throw opponents into a trance state where they experience various hallucinations.
Hagoromo was genuinely interested in genjutsu-types like Yūhi Kurenai. He'd never faced one in practical class before. This fight would let him test whether his abilities worked against genjutsu.
If he couldn't handle ordinary genjutsu, he'd need to be extremely careful around Uchiha Sharingan later.
"Rin, who do you think'll win?" Obito asked, positioning himself conspicuously close to her while pretending to care about Hagoromo's match.
As for his actual motives for hovering around Rin... well. Guess.
"It's probably Hagoromo," Rin answered confidently, though she left the second half unsaid.
If Hagoromo didn't forfeit, that was.
Because during regular practical classes, Hagoromo frequently forfeited matches, citing insufficient chakra as his excuse...
His academic scores were exceptional, but his overall class ranking hovered somewhere in the middle for a simple reason: in various practical, taijutsu, and shuriken classes, he forfeited constantly. And he always found some plausible reason that convinced the instructors.
Of course, Rin didn't need to worry. Hagoromo had no intention of forfeiting this time. First, this was the graduation exam—if he bowed out without even trying, there was zero chance he'd graduate. Second, he was genuinely curious whether his techniques would work against a genjutsu-type.
"No way, I think Yūhi Kurenai's got this. Her overall grades are way better than Hagoromo's—that guy's got zero drive," Obito countered, taking the opposing view. Why wasn't he supporting his so-called friend? Simple: Rin sticking up for Hagoromo had annoyed him slightly. Maybe he didn't even realize it himself.
"Who knows..." Nohara Rin's uncertainty was understandable. The list of times Kamishiro Hagoromo had forfeited in practical class was longer than anyone could count.
If only they could transfer a tenth of Might Guy's drive to Hagoromo...
Rin found herself involuntarily picturing a bowl-cut watermelon head plopped onto Hagoromo's shoulders. She shivered. Yeah, Hagoromo was fine as he was. No need to learn anything from Might Guy. Especially not fashion sense.
"Fight—begin!"
As the chūnin instructor's voice fell, everyone's attention snapped to the training ground.
Then, to the stunned disbelief of Yūhi Kurenai and every single spectator, Hagoromo closed his eyes.
"Hey! What's your deal? You wanna fight or not?" Kurenai demanded, completely unable to parse what her opponent was doing.
"I'm getting ready to fight, aren't I? Closing my eyes is step one." Hagoromo's voice carried that same exhausted, half-dead tone.
Kurenai nearly choked on her own anger. Closing his eyes was step one? This guy—who forfeited every other practical class—was looking down on her?
Annoyance flared into genuine irritation. Through gritted teeth, she snapped, "How exactly do you plan to fight with your eyes closed?"
"Oh, that. I know I shouldn't be revealing intel to an opponent, but I'll explain anyway. You're a genjutsu-type, right? Eyes closed keeps me safe from your illusions." Hagoromo's tone carried the distinct energy of someone graciously bestowing wisdom upon the unenlightened.