Within the first three weeks of the semester, the sorting process inside the classroom was already operating.
The physical evaluations in the courtyard clearly separated the clan heirs from the civilian children, but it was the theoretical classes that truly broke the spirits of ordinary students. Instructor Daiki didn't grade on a curve. The written exams on shinobi history, topography, cryptographic ciphers, and chakra theory were ruthless.
For me, the written exams were trivial, since I had near-perfect memory retention. I absorbed the textbooks in my apartment, easily retaining the geopolitical structures of the Five Great Nations. But perfect scores were dangerous.
When Daiki handed back the first major written exam, the classroom fell into a tense silence.
"Uchiha" Daiki called out, his voice flat. "One hundred percent."
Itachi stood up, walked to the front, and collected his paper without a single change in his expression. He returned to his seat unbothered. He was the golden standard against which the rest of our generation was being measured.
"Raijin" Daiki called out a moment later. "Eighty-six percent."
I walked down the steps and took my paper. I gave a small, respectful nod to the instructor and returned to my desk. I had deliberately answered three questions incorrectly. It was the grade of a hardworking, distinctly average, child who studied but lacked the genius to be flawless.
Beside me, Ken let his head hit the wooden desk with a dull thud.
I glanced over. His exam paper was covered in red ink. At the top of the page was a circled forty-two.
"I'm dead" Ken groaned, his voice muffled against the wood. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. "My dad is actually going to kill me."
I kept my eyes on the front of the room. "It's just the first exam. You can recover."
"No, I can't" Ken sniffled, lifting his head. His eyes were beginning to get red and watery. "You don't get it. He said if I fail the theory block, I'm wasting the village's stipend. He's going to pull me out of the Academy. I'm going to be stuck at the forge for the rest of my life."
Hearing his situation, a thought surged in my mind.
"Look at question four" I whispered, sliding my exam paper slightly toward the center of the desk.
Ken blinked, wiping his nose with sleeve, and squinted at my paper. "Logistics routing?"
"You forgot to factor in the moisture loss for the grain rations over a two-week march" I explained quietly. "The math is simple algebra. Look, I have condensed notes that make the textbook chapter way easier to read. I can write out study guides for you."
Ken stared at me, his eyes wide with desperate hope. "Really? You'd let me use your notes?"
"If you read them, you'll pass Daiki's exams" I confirmed.
Ken looked like I had just handed him gold. "I… I can pay you! I get an allowance every week—"
"I don't need your money" I interrupted, keeping my tone casual. I paused, letting a trace of feigned hesitation seep into my voice. I shifted my gaze down to my desk, acting embarrassed. "But.. if your uncle runs a forge, maybe you could do me a favor."
"Anything. Name it." Ken promised enthusiastically.
"I like building things. Woodworking, little projects." I lied. "I need some scrap metal to act as counterweights. Flat pieces of iron. Stuff your uncle probably threw in the trash. And maybe some straps if you have them."
Ken looked confused. "Scrap iron? That's it? Yeah, my uncle throws out heavy iron all the time. I can sneak some into my bag after he closes the shop. How much do you need?"
"About thirty pounds total" I said.
Ken's jaw dropped. "Thirty pounds?!"
"It's for a very big project" I smiled. "Do we have a deal?"
Ken extended a sweaty hand. "Deal."
The transaction was executed perfectly. I handed Ken my notes before homeroom, and by Friday, Ken met me behind the Academy walls, carrying a heavy sack.
That night, my apartment became a makeshift tailor shop. I laid out the thick straps, measuring them against my calves and forearms.
By midnight, I had made two ankle weights and two wrist weights.
I sat on the edge of my bed and strapped the weights on.
I stood up.
My knees buckled instantly, the iron dragging my body toward the floorboards. I gritted my teeth, forcing my legs, pushing against the resistance. Eventually, I managed to lock myself into an upright position, with sweat beading on my forehead.
This was the solution to my fundamental imbalance. By forcing my body to carry heavy weight every single day, my body would be forced to adapt, and, at some point, my chakra pool would expand to, some day, match my massive spiritual energy.
I did not take the weights off. I wore them under my clothes to the Academy.
The first month was absolute torture. Walking up the steps of the classroom left me breathless. During the physical endurance runs on the track, I had to actively suppress my groans of pain. However, no one seemed to notice my harsh reality, since the struggle I feigned before, now was actually real.
Two months later, the human body's capacity for adaptation proved its existence. The thirty pounds of iron felt as if they were part of my body as my muscles grew denser.
But the constant suppression was breeding a frustration in my chest.
I needed a release valve.
It was a moonless night in late autumn. I slipped out of my apartment window, running through the rooftops until I reached the perimeter of the village. A place I had passed by before to confirm its existence.
Training Ground 44. The Forest of Death.
I slipped through a gap in the fences and emerged into the forest. The wildlife here had mutated over decades of exposure to the dense chakra of the environment.
I walked into a small clearing. I reached down, unbuckled the straps from my limbs. and let the thirty pounds of weight drop.
It was instantaneous. Without the weight compressing my body, I felt extremely lighter.
I didn't have to wait long.
A low snarl echoed from the thick brush. Emerging from it, a massive wild boar. It was the size of a small bear, its red eyes locked onto me.
The boar scraped its feet against the dirt and charged.
I engaged the dense pool of chakra in my core, routing it into the soles of my feet. The beast closed the distance, its fangs inches from me.
I pushed off the ground.
I vanished from the beast's line of sight, launching myself upward. I twisted my body mid-flight, bringing my right heel around in a kick.
My heel collided with the beast's neck.
I expected it to fly after the impact. Instead, the impact sent a shockwave back up my own leg.
My heel bounced off the boar's neck as if I had just kicked steel. The animals in the Forest of Death didn't just survive on size, they actually had dense bodies made from being in contact with the dense chakra environment of this place.
The boar grunted. It barely stumbled. Before I could even begin to pull my leg back, the beast whipped its head around.
My inexperience betrayed me. I was fast, but I couldn't react just after a failed strike.
One of the boars fangs caught me mid-air.
The sharp bone grazed my ribs, ripping my clothes. He threw me completely off balance, launching me through the air like a ragdoll.
I hit the mud hard.
I gasped, scrambling to my knees, clutching my bleeding side, but the boar was already on me. It hadn't lost its momentum.
It charged, hitting me in the chest with its snout.
I was thrown backward, slamming into a tree. The impact blurred my vision. Before I could roll away, the boar surged forward, pressing its weight against me, pinning me against the wood.
The beast's breath washed over my face. Its body threatened to crush me with its weight.
Panic took over. I tried to push back against it, but the angle of contact made my opposing force useless.
I was going to die here. Crushed against a tree by a pig.
Desperation triggered a surge of pure, Yin chakra in my core. My mind raced in hundreds of thoughts.
I couldn't beat it with raw physical force.
How do I damage him, then?
Internal damage.
Impossible, how can I even get through its tough body?
I didn't know any elemental jutsu.
But I had a theory. Something that brewed in me recently, but I still hadn't had the time to put it into test.
I knew how to create a vacuum to stick a leaf to my forehead and walk on walls.
What if I reversed the flow?
Instead of pulling a vacuum, what if I forced a highly pressurized vortex of chakra, and then violently expanded it?
The boar pushed harder.
I had no choice.
I pulled my right arm free from where it was pinned against my side. I slammed my palm flat against the boar's chest, right over his heart.
The beast snorted.
Pierce. Compress. Expand. I didn't try to punch it. I gathered every ounce of chakra I could summon, spinning it into a compressed vortex in my palm.
I forced the spinning chakra directly through the tenketsu in my hand, injecting the energy deep into the beast's flesh, pushing past its skin.
It took two seconds of concentration. Two seconds of feeling my ribs crack under the boar's weight.
I held the compression inside the beast, letting the internal pressure build.
Then, I violently severed my control.
A muffled boom echoed.
The explosion of chakra ripped his inwards. The pressure of the expansion shattered the beast's organs.
The massive boar let out a choked, wet squeal. Its body went rigid.
The recoil of the technique hit my own arm as well. It sent an agonizing pain all the way up to my shoulder.
The beast's weight suddenly went dead, and it collapsed to the side, sliding off me and crashing into the mud. It twitched once and went completely still.
I slumped forward, collapsing onto my hands and knees in the dirt.
I coughed, clutching my ribs. My right arm hung numb and weak at my side.
I stayed there for some time, listening to the silence of the forest, waiting for my heart to decelerate.
I stared at the carcass.
I couldn't butcher it. I had to get out of here before other beasts caught on its scent.
I slowly pushed myself up. Turning around, I suppressed my signature and began the long, silent trek back toward my apartment.
The release valve had served its purpose. I was not invincible, but I felt like I had taken one more step toward the peak.