The first kunai struck true.
Thunk.
The second kunai followed, dead center in the target's bullseye.
Thunk.
The third kunai completed the pattern flawlessly.
Thunk.
Around the Academy training grounds, students exchanged glances. Even Sasuke Uchiha lifted his gaze from his own practice, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied the boy at the throwing line.
Then Meian released the fourth kunai with a casual flick of his wrist.
Whoosh.
It sailed wide, missing the target entirely.
Iruka Umino stepped forward, clipboard in hand, his expression one of measured disappointment. "Eighty points, Meian. Strong performance, but you'll need perfect consistency to truly excel. Keep training, and you'll earn that flawless throw."
"Yes, Sensei," Meian replied, offering a respectful nod before stepping back into line without protest or excuse.
Sasuke's frown deepened. So he's just average after all. His brief interest had evaporated—there was nothing remarkable about an eighty-point score, no matter the difficulty of the throws.
Meian stood motionless in the queue, expression serene.
But high in the branches of a nearby oak tree, Kakashi Hatake's eye crinkled with amusement. Interesting. Was that final throw truly a mistake, or something else entirely?
The kunai assessment concluded with Sasuke Uchiha claiming first place. He accepted the murmured praise from his classmates with characteristic indifference, his shoulders rigid, his expression cold.
Iruka cleared his throat and addressed the assembled Academy students. "Now we move to hand-to-hand combat assessment. This will test your taijutsu fundamentals and reaction time. Remember—no ninjutsu permitted."
The students nodded in unison.
Iruka settled onto a nearby bench to observe, consulting his roster. Meian's match was number twelve, which gave him time to observe the earlier bouts. They were largely predictable—children with varying levels of physical conditioning, most lacking proper technique or speed. For Meian, watching them was almost painful in its simplicity.
This will be tedious, Kakashi mused from his perch, a knowing smile playing at his lips.
The matches progressed swiftly. Soon, only a handful remained.
"Next match," Iruka announced, reading from his list, "Meian versus Hinata Hyūga. Please step into the circle."
Meian's stomach tightened. Her? He rose slowly, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features before he smoothed it away. He hadn't bothered to review the matchups beforehand. This complicates things. How do I manage this without—
He caught himself. Not with Kakashi watching from that tree, calculating everything.
Hinata Hyūga shuffled into the dueling circle with downcast eyes, her long dark hair falling forward to shield her face. The faint blush creeping across her cheeks deepened as she became aware of who her opponent would be.
"M-Meian," she stammered softly, her voice barely audible. "Please... teach me well."
Meian inclined his head respectfully. "Let's both give our best effort."
She's shy with everyone, he reminded himself, trying to focus. Not just me.
Iruka began weaving the hand seals to signal the start of combat.
Hinata moved into her family's fighting stance with practiced precision, legs shoulder-width apart, hands positioned defensively. Meian took a measured breath and rushed forward.
Hinata charged to meet him.
Their forearms collided with a sharp crack.
"You're... so strong," Hinata whispered, her body trembling slightly from the impact.
Meian's eyes narrowed. Her strength is remarkable. He'd underestimated her—that much was immediately clear. No wonder she eats so much. That kind of power requires fuel.
He pivoted and sent a low kick toward her midsection. Hinata's eyes widened, and she rotated her palms downward to deflect the blow.
Crack!
The collision sent dust spiraling across the training ground. Both fighters retreated a step, reassessing.
"You're incredible, Meian," Hinata observed, something like awe in her pale eyes.
Meian said nothing, but internally revised his entire assessment of the Hyūga heiress. They exchanged another series of strikes—punch, kick, block, sidestep. With each exchange, Hinata grew bolder, her initial nervousness burning away as she focused entirely on the fight.
Then she planted her feet firmly and assumed the Gentle Fist stance, her hands curled into precise, controlled fists.
"Gentle Fist Style: Eight Trigrams Sixteen Palms," she declared, her Byakugan blazing to life—those distinctive lavender eyes opening fully, the veins around her temples bulging with the activation of her bloodline limit.
Her chakra control was extraordinary. Meian could sense it now—the massive reserves of energy flowing through her slender frame, channeled with surgical precision through her palms.
If I get caught by that, he realized grimly, it will hurt.
Hinata's movements became a blur of motion. She appeared before him in what seemed like a single heartbeat, both palms extended, and then there was nothing but impact and chaos.
Bang, bang, bang!
Bang, bang, bang!
Bang, bang, bang!
The air itself seemed to shatter under the relentless barrage. Each palm strike was aimed with the Byakugan's precision, targeting the chakra pathways running through his body. To the watching students, her velocity was nearly impossible to track with the naked eye.
The other Academy children sat frozen, jaws slack.
Naruto Uzumaki leaned forward in astonishment. "Since when was Hinata that fast? Or that strong?!"
Sasuke's frown deepened into something resembling genuine concern. This woman is formidable.
Sakura Haruno and Ino Yamanaka clutched each other in shock. "H-Hinata?! Since when is she this powerful?!"
Even Iruka blinked in surprise. "It appears Hinata was... significantly holding back in all her previous matches."
Meian watched the Gentle Fist combinations advancing relentlessly, each strike aimed with lethal precision. This is going to be catastrophic if I don't—
At the precise moment her palms were mere inches from his body, Meian's frame twisted impossibly to the side. Not a dodge—something far more unusual. His body seemed to shift in ways that defied natural movement.
Hinata's Byakugan allowed her to adjust her trajectory mid-strike, but Meian's evasions were simply too fast, too fluid. He slipped through the net of her attacks with inhuman grace, each dodge taking less than half a second.
Then, deliberately, he stopped moving.
Hinata's palm connected perfectly with his abdomen.
Bang!
"Ngh—!"
The impact drove the air from his lungs. Meian doubled forward, his hand clutching his stomach, staggering backward several steps. His face had gone pale.
"I yield," he managed through gritted teeth.
Hinata's assault momentum collapsed as her mind caught up with reality. "Oh! Meian! I'm so—I didn't mean to—!" Her face flushed crimson with mortification and concern as she rushed toward him. "Are you hurt? I'm so sorry!"
Meian forced his expression into something resembling a smile, though his jaw was clenched. "Don't apologize. You're extraordinary—truly. Your clan must be proud." That hit like a sledgehammer. If my physical conditioning weren't what it is, I'd be coughing blood right now.
He straightened slowly, still cradling his abdomen, and walked away without meeting Iruka's eyes.
The Academy instructor hurried over. "Meian, you should visit the infirmary. That looked serious."
"It's manageable, Iruka Sensei," Meian replied, his smile forced but steady. "Just a dull ache. It'll fade quickly."
Though right now it feels like my organs are competing for space.
High above them, Kakashi's visible eye crinkled with satisfaction. "Interesting. That last dodge sequence—his reaction time surpassed Chunin-level speed. And those evasions..." He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "He deliberately took that final hit. Why?"
The silver-haired jonin's expression grew contemplative. "His combat reflexes are faster than many Chunin, even at this age. But that speed he displayed just now? That's not his true capability. Whatever he is, he's far more than what these Academy assessments suggest."
The remaining students watched Hinata in stunned silence as she retreated to her seat, still pale with concern. The quiet Hyūga—the one they'd dismissed as weak—had just demonstrated power most of them couldn't match. Everything they thought they knew had been completely upended.
The revelation hung heavy over the training grounds as Iruka prepared for the remaining matches.
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