A year passed at the Academy without Shin truly noticing the time. For the other students, that period was marked by learning, mistakes, and small progressions. For him… it was different. Each day was a repetition with purpose. Training, combat, observation. At first, it was just ordinary fights—children provoking each other, trying to prove something. Shin accepted all of them. Not out of pride, but because each confrontation was an opportunity to understand patterns, reactions, and limits more deeply.
Over time, it ceased to be a contest. It became mastery. He didn't just win—he controlled the pace, forced mistakes, guided others exactly where he wanted. Some began to avoid him, others insisted… and still ended up on the ground the same way. There was no anger in him, nor exaggerated satisfaction. Only observation. It was never enough.
His abilities grew too fast. His body more precise, reflexes sharper, movement reading almost instinctive. And his mind… always ahead. While others were still reacting, Shin had already decided the outcome. Still, he never stopped. Never. Because for him, there was always something missing.
When the exams finally arrived, tension filled the classroom. Anxiety, nervousness, expectation. Shin felt none of it. For him, it was just another test.
His name was called first.
He stood and proceeded to the designated place. As he entered, he realized it wasn't the usual room. It was smaller, quieter. Inside were Hiruzen Sarutobi, Mizuki, and the leader of the Yamanaka Clan.
Shin paused and waited.
— Perform the three basic techniques, — said Hiruzen.
Shin nodded.
Substitution, clone, and transformation. Techniques not yet officially taught at the Academy… but not unknown to him. The scrolls left by his parents were not just records—they were detailed instructions, complete methods that he had studied countless times until he understood every step, every seal, every execution.
He simply put them into practice.
The hand seals were simple, precise. Substitution worked flawlessly. The clones appeared stable. Transformation was clean, without distortion.
When he finished, his eyes turned to Hiruzen. A slight glint passed through his gaze—not emotion, but comprehension.
He already understood.
— You may graduate now, — said Hiruzen.
Shin nodded.
— And you will not join a regular team.
— Understood.
— ANBU.
Shin did not hesitate.
— Yes, Hokage.
— You will report directly to me.
— Yes.
There was no doubt, no room for question.
It was simply the next step.