Two years.
Two years of relentless, agonizing, hidden practice. Naruto, now twelve, had honed his persona of the "solid average student" to perfection.
He was the quiet, attentive student. Always eighty points. Always seven out of ten kunai in the target. Always a "respectable" fourth or fifth place—in the shadow of Sasuke, Sakura, and Shino.
A predictable fixture of the Academy. No one paid him any attention.
Kiba still considered him the "Outcast" who got lucky once, but he no longer risked physical provocation. Sasuke, after that confrontation in the hallway, had changed tactics. Open hostility gave way to cold, assessing observation. The Uchiha was waiting. Waiting for Naruto to display that "anomaly," that power that had flickered once before. But Naruto gave him no such chance.
The nights belonged only to him.
The Middle Stage of Body Tempering had reached its peak. His bones had hardened like granite, and his Qi Sensory, though still at the Initial Stage, had become as sharp as a honed blade. Sitting in class, he could feel the aura of every student, distinguishing them like unique thermal fingerprints. He had begun the Late Stage—strengthening the internal organs. The slowest and most painful part of the path.
But today, none of that mattered.
Today was the Graduation Exam.
The tension in Class 2-B was thick enough to cut with a kunai. Even Shikamaru wasn't sleeping. Iruka-sensei stood before the formation, his face stern, but his eyes holding hidden pride.
"Today is your last day as students." The silence in the classroom became absolute. "The exam consists of three stages. The written test—your knowledge. Taijutsu—your reflexes. And Ninjutsu—your chakra control."
The written test proved... trivial. Using Qi Concentration, Naruto scanned the list. Twenty questions. He knew the answers to all of them.
He methodically filled in sixteen fields. Left two blank. Intentionally made minor errors in two. Eighty out of one hundred. He handed in his paper among the first group, but not the first. Perfect balance.
Taijutsu followed the same script. He was called up against a classmate whose name had faded from memory. The boy was larger, but moved sluggishly, predictably. Naruto didn't use Qi enhancement. There was no need. His body, tempered to the limit, worked on pure reflex. A dodge from a clumsy swing, a basic Academy trip. The fight ended in three seconds.
"Winner: Naruto Uzumaki!" Iruka made a note on his clipboard. "Good technique, Naruto."
A short nod. Return to the line. Sasuke, who had dispatched his opponent in two seconds, shot him a quick, scanning glance. In vain. Naruto showed nothing but flawless basics.
The class returned to the auditorium for the final trial.
"And finally," Iruka's voice turned solemn. "Your final technique. Bunshin no Jutsu."
His heart skipped a beat.
He knew this moment would come. What irony.
Qi could solve everything. Pure, "precise force"—energy of a higher order than crude chakra. Create an illusion, a clone? For Qi, this was routine. He could fill the room with a hundred perfect copies without even breaking his stride.
But he couldn't.
Using Qi here, under the gazes of Iruka-sensei, Mizuki-sensei, and, worst of all, Sasuke... It would be equivalent to launching a signal flare right over the Hokage's residence. It would reveal everything. His primary defense—invisibility—would crumble instantly.
There remained only one path. Chakra.
He had tried, damn it. Dozens of nights spent attempting to pacify that blue, chaotic storm poisoned by the Fox's presence. To pull just one obedient thread from the raging ocean. He might as well have been trying to carve a sculpture on a grain of rice using a sledgehammer.
"Sakura Haruno!"
Sakura stepped forward, fingers weaving the seal. Poof!
Three perfect copies.
"Excellent! Passed!"
"Sasuke Uchiha!"
A grunt. Poof! Five flawless clones.
"Passed, Sasuke."
"Kiba Inuzuka!"
Kiba's two clones came out blurry, one clearly limping, but the technique worked.
"Passed!"
The line dwindled. Even Hinata, crimson with embarrassment, managed to create one pale, trembling double.
"Naruto Uzumaki!"
Naruto stood up. The silence in the room thickened. Gazes burned his back. He walked to the center. Kiba's mocking smirk. Sasuke's cold, bored curiosity. Iruka-sensei's encouraging but anxious look.
"Come on, Naruto," the teacher said quietly. "You can do it."
Eyes closed. Ram seal. Immersion.
He consciously ignored the calm, white stream of Qi, ready to execute the order instantly. Instead, his will reached for the blue chaos.
Not the ocean. Just one thread. A small, stable thread.
Grip. Direct.
Poof.
On the floor beside him appeared... something.
A pale, translucent creature resembling a jellyfish washed ashore twitched feebly on the floorboards. It wasn't just bad. It was painfully pathetic.
A second of dead silence.
"BWA-HA-HA-HA! WHAT IS THAT?! HE MADE A SLUG!" Kiba's laughter tore through the classroom.
No one could hold it back. The auditorium drowned in laughter. The spectacle wasn't pathetic—it was comical.
Naruto's face remained a stone mask, but bitterness spread inside him. Not because of Kiba. Because of himself. The pride of a cultivator capable of enduring bone-breaking pain was wounded by his own powerlessness before this cursed energy.
"QUIET!" Iruka barked. The laughter cut off. The teacher looked at Naruto with undisguised pity. "Naruto. Try again. Focus. Control the chakra!"
Teeth clenched to the point of grinding. Control...
The seal again. This time—Qi Concentration at the limit. His will clamped down on the chaotic blue flow like a steel hoop. Grab. Pull.
He pulled too hard.
WHOOSH!
CRACK!
Not a technique—an explosion. Pure, wild blue chakra burst outward in a shockwave. The floor shuddered, kicking up a cloud of dust. Papers from Iruka-sensei's desk flew into a vortex. The windowpanes rattled pitifully in their frames.
The dust settled. Naruto stood alone. There was no clone.
Dead silence. Kiba froze with his mouth open. Sasuke raised an eyebrow. Monstrous power. And absolute, total lack of control.
Mizuki, Iruka-sensei's assistant, leaned into the examiner's ear, whispering something and shaking his head. Iruka's face darkened. There were no excuses left.
"Naruto... You... fail."
...
He vaguely remembered leaving the classroom. Iruka-sensei's voice announcing the rest of the graduates passed his consciousness by. One thought echoed hollowly in his head: You failed.
The Academy gates met him with the noise of celebration. Jubilation, parents' hugs, ecstatic screams. New Konoha forehead protectors sparkled in the sun, blinding him.
Kiba, showing off his headband to his mother, noticed him.
"Hey, Outcast!" His voice dripped with gloating. "Too bad it didn't work out! See ya... oh wait, no I won't! Try harder next year, loser!"
Naruto walked past him like he was walking through smoke.
Sasuke slipped past. Not a glance, not a gesture. As if Naruto were empty space. All suspicions, the entire complex web of Uchiha's intrigue, were washed away by this fiasco. The mystery was solved: Naruto was no hidden genius. Just a strange loser. Such contempt stung worse than hatred.
His legs carried him to the old swing set under the tree. The very same one where he had sat six years ago—a lonely, pathetic child.
He sat down.
The whispers of the parents, sticky and familiar:
"That's him... the only one who failed..."
"I told you, he's just defective..."
"Poor Iruka-sensei, wasted so much time..."
His gaze fixed on the ground. There were no tears.
No rage either. Only a cold, heavy resentment at the injustice of it all.
He, who had reached the Middle Stage of Body Tempering. Possessor of Qi Sensory. He was stronger, tougher, and faster than anyone who put on a protector today.
And he was the only one who failed.
A cruel irony of fate. Failure not due to weakness. Failure due to excessive strength that had to be strangled. He could have passed the exam with a snap of his fingers by summoning Qi, but the price—freedom—was unacceptable.
His fists clenched. His knuckles turned white, resembling polished marble. The chains of the swing creaked under the monstrous pressure, the old tree groaning pitifully.
This... is not the end.
His blue eyes remained focused and cold.
I couldn't tame the Chakra. That means I will find another way.