Morning in Konoha hadn't fully arrived yet. The sky was still a pale orange, the kind that sits quietly before sunrise. Dew clung stubbornly to the edges of sakura leaves, and the smell of damp earth drifted through the air. At the Shinobi Academy's training field, dozens of students gathered—some huddling in small groups, some sitting nervously on old wooden stands. Today, just like every year before it, was the day of truth: The Genin Graduation Exam.
From a distance, steady, confident footsteps echoed.
Katsuki Bakugo—hands in his pockets, expression sharp and unshaken—walked up the stands. He sat at the front row without hesitation, instantly drawing wary glances from nearby students.
"He's here…" someone whispered.
"Please let nothing catch fire this year," someone else muttered.
Bakugo had long been a topic of conversation at the Academy—not just because of his unusual chakra nature, a mix of fire, lightning, and a hint of earth at such a young age, but because of his explosive fighting style. Last year, he nearly made a crater in the training field during a simple chakra-control test.
Bakugo crossed his arms, completely unfazed by the stares piercing his back. His eyes were fixed on the arena below—sharp, intense, like he could burn a hole through anything by looking at it long enough.
Near the gate, the Chūnin proctors prepared the equipment: wooden targets, chakra meters, stacks of evaluation scrolls. Two Jōnin stood overseeing everything, ensuring no "dangerous accidents" occurred—though with Bakugo present, the definition of "safe" became questionable.
Konoha's Genin Exam System
For readers unfamiliar with shinobi graduation procedures, Konoha's exam has two standard parts:
1. Theory Test
Covering:
chakra anatomy
defensive formations
village history
chakra signatures
ninja tools
basic first aid
2. Practical Test
Usually including:
basic chakra control (mini tree-climb or leaf-balance test)
Clone Jutsu or a simple Transformation
shuriken/kunai accuracy
additional jutsu demonstrations if the student has special talent
sometimes on-the-spot improvisation depending on the proctor
For most students, Clone Jutsu is the scariest part.
For someone like Bakugo?
Anything involving explosions is a hazard.
Time passed. The sun climbed higher. Finally, a proctor unrolled a scroll of names.
His voice boomed:
"Next—KATSUKI BAKUGO!"
Several students straightened immediately. A few unconsciously backed away, as if expecting shrapnel to start flying. Even the previously relaxed Chūnin exchanged tense glances.
Bakugo rose slowly. Not hurried. Not hesitant. His eyes were steady, filled with a quiet fire. He descended the stands and stepped into the arena.
Dust shifted beneath his sandals as he walked to the center. The head proctor narrowed his eyes.
"Katsuki Bakugo," he said firmly. "Chakra control. Basic strength. Precision. Follow every instruction. Do not—"
"—blow up the field. Yeah, I got it," Bakugo cut in flatly.
The proctor sighed. "…Yes. That."
The wooden target stood five meters away. Most students took a full minute to steady their chakra before starting. Bakugo didn't need to. His chakra had been roaring beneath his skin from the moment he stepped into the arena—like a storm waiting for a command.
"We begin in three," the proctor announced.
"Three… two… one… START!"
Bakugo didn't move at first.
He simply stared at the target—calm, focused, like he could see a microscopic point at its center.
Then he stepped forward once and lowered his palm. His fingers spread slightly. A soft glow leaked from between them.
A low rumble followed—vrrzzzz… fssshhh…—a mix of crackling lightning and the suppressed hiss of heat.
"Not again…" one proctor muttered, already gripping a fire-suppression tag.
And in the next split second—
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The explosion ripped through the arena.
A shockwave blasted outward, forcing several onlookers to stumble back. Dust erupted like battlefield smoke. Wood shards flew. A harsh white flash from the lightning made people squint.
And in the middle of it all, one figure stood firm.
Bakugo lowered his hand slowly. His hair was windswept from the blast. His breathing was heavy but steady. No regret on his face—only a cold, sharp satisfaction.
Where the target once stood was now a smoking crater.
Not broken.
Not damaged.
Gone.
Silence fell over the arena.
Until—
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! That was a control test—not a field demolition!!" a proctor shouted.
Bakugo turned, wearing a half-smirk that only made the proctors angrier.
"If the target's completely gone, that means one thing—
I hit exactly where I was supposed to.
If that's not control, then what do you even call it?"
Several students snorted. Some tried not to laugh. Others just stared, unsure whether to be impressed or terrified.
But facts were facts.
A perfect hit.
Blast contained within a controlled radius.
Arena boundaries intact.
The head proctor pinched the bridge of his nose, signed the evaluation scroll, and muttered in defeat:
"…Katsuki Bakugo. Passed. Official Genin of Konoha."
Small cheers broke out—not in celebration of Bakugo, but in relief that the exam was over without casualties.
A Jōnin handed Bakugo a shinobi headband. The metal plate glinted under the rising sun. He stared at it—without sentiment, without pride. More like someone eyeing the first step of a long war.
Around him, students hugged, laughed, cried. Bakugo did none of those things. He tied the headband around his arm, exhaled once, and walked away.
His footsteps kicked up dust. A soft breeze brushed past him, carrying the scent of pine.
Bakugo paused, eyes drifting toward the horizon—toward the forest, the village, the sky above.
Genin.
The lowest rank of shinobi.
The starting line.
For most kids, it was a small badge of honor.
For Bakugo, it wasn't an honor.
It was a challenge.
"This is just the first step," he muttered. "If the world doesn't know who's gonna be the strongest… I'll make sure they find out."
He kept walking. Dust lifted behind each step, as if even the earth reacted to the heat of his chakra.
And that was the beginning of the journey of Katsuki Bakugo—a boy with ambition like a storm, and a power that exploded long before he ever grew up.
This was only the beginning.
The world had no idea what was coming.