know how passionate you are about our Village, Kenshin."
Being reborn into the world of Naruto should have been a dream come true.
"You embody the Will of Fire more strongly than most Chūnin, or even most Jōnin!"
Being reborn into Konoha - and being five years older than Naruto, at that - should have been everything he needed to succeed.
"But if you fail to graduate a fourth time, you will have to accept that you do not have what it takes to become a Genin." At least they were nice enough to send Iruka to give him this TED Talk instead of Mizuki; it still didn't make it sting any less. "There are other ways you can help the village!"
"I understand, Iruka-sensei," Kenshin cut his teacher off before he could start suggesting that he become a farmer again. "I will pass this time. I'm sure of it."
With a stiff bow, Kenshin briskly walked out before Iruka could stop him.
He couldn't even be mad about it; he understood it, even. Kenshin had broken the record for being the oldest Academy student ever, and that was not a record anyone wanted to exist. It was kind of shocking how seriously they took the minimal requirements for graduating from the Academy, considering they were training child soldiers.
Then again, those were superpowered child soldiers, and given his complete lack of talent for the profession, he couldn't really fault them for not wanting him to go from failed Academy student to the weakest Genin in the Elemental Nations. Ever.
Who would probably die on his first C-Rank mission.
Which, okay, it wasn't that bad. Sure, he had one of the lowest recorded chakra reserves ever, absolutely no talent for either controlling or sensing said chakra, and he had the natural combat instincts of a goldfish.
But he could be considered a genius of hard work!
…Which sounded great until you realized that even Rock Lee, who was in his year and about to graduate, had a talent for Taijutsu and, more importantly, actually got physically stronger at a pretty fast pace. Which meant that, even though Kenshin was four years older than Rock Lee and the young green beast hadn't been trained by Guy yet, Kenshin was still barely physically stronger.
Not that it would help him beat Lee, who actually had a talent for fighting.
Truly, considering his workout routine and general work ethic, it was actually kind of impressive how bad his talent was!
"One month until graduation," Kenshin muttered aloud as he grabbed a training Sword from the Academy's storage room and headed for the training area, determined to spend another few hours practicing with his weapon of choice. Am I ready to use it? Do I even have the choice to keep putting it off?
While Kenshin was lamenting his lack of talent, his conundrum was, in a weird way, a choice.
Because, as he had hoped upon first opening his eyes to this new world as a toddler, he had gained a unique power. One that could, in theory, allow him to become stronger than any Kage; than even Ninja Jesus himself.
As if able to hear his thoughts, the ever-present presence at the back of his mind pushed itself forward, tempting him to just use it.
Beat 'em, Reap 'em.
It was a variant of the Beat 'em Up ability he had read about in his past life, only with too many restrictions:
He had to choose a theme that all his challenges had to revolve around. Those he fought would be at the peak of power they had managed to achieve in life. And, worst of all in his opinion, he could only trigger this ability a grand total of five times.
With one last swing of the sword, hours earlier than usual, Kenshin stopped and looked at the Hokage Monument.
Four legends. Four people of unparalleled talent and willpower. Four people who had created a safe haven, no matter how flawed, in this cruel world of war and greed.
And while others might have imagined their faces joining the others to protect this village, Kenshin couldn't help but dream.
How strong could he become with his out-of-context power? How far beyond the Hokage, beyond the Tailed Beasts, beyond anything in this reality could he push?
"Today," the weakest ninja-trained sixteen-year-old vowed aloud. "I will issue my first challenge today."
For while his ability had annoying limitations, the last one was so simple and yet impossible to ignore.
His fights would be to the death, and if he won, he would gain all of their innate potential.
But if he lost?
His ability would grant them any wish of their choice.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ ▬▬ι══════ﺤ ▬▬ι══════ﺤ ▬▬ι══════ﺤ ▬▬ι══════ﺤ
So, after years of planning a Pokemon fanfiction and being unable to write it consistently at all, I decided to give my old way of writing a chance again; impulsively starting a story and uploading it with the hope to finally begin writing consistently.
In other words, I have no idea how far I will be able to bring myself to write this, but I have a pretty good idea where I want this to go and maybe, maybe I will finally break my curse of only writing every few months/weeks.
See you (hopefully) in a few days for the next chapter – it will be longer then. Like ReplyReport Reactions:Davidmas2307, odinori, Drunkenwolfe and 488 othersAshtonGrayJul 1, 2026Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 1 View contentAshtonGrayFantasy ConnoisseurJul 2, 2026Add bookmark#10"Breathe," Kenshin told himself. "Calm down."
No matter how hard he tried, his heart just wouldn't shut up.
He had eaten, done a light workout to keep his blood flowing, meditated to focus his mind, gone to the toilet four times, and sharpened the sword he had bought after years of saving the criminally low orphan allowance Academy students received.
It was finally time. He had prepared for this moment for years.
Years of stubbornly swinging a sword, of pushing himself harder than anyone else only to watch them pass him with relative ease. Years of training his tiny puddle of chakra, trying his best to achieve greatness without relying on this cheat. Years of working toward something with the all-consuming desire to succeed - and still failing.
"Ah." In a moment of clarity and reflection, Kenshin's heart began to settle.
It was pride, wasn't it?
Deep down, from the moment he had awakened the possibility of activating Beat 'em, Reap 'em, he hadn't wanted to use it. He didn't want power simply handed to him. He didn't want potential stolen from others.
Deep down, Kenshin had believed that he, as he was… was enough. That his love for the sword would be enough to matter. Enough to stand among legends.
"I wonder," he mused aloud, looking away from his sword and toward the explosive tag in his heavily callused hand - the thing meant to ensure that, no matter what happened, he would win this fight. "How far could I go if I just kept pushing forward?"
With a mind clearer than ever before, he let the explosive tag slip from his hand.
"…"
How stupid. How utterly moronic. I'm smarter than this, so why?
"My theme will be Sword."
Why was he suddenly trying to be honorable?
"My first opponent will be Kuina Shimotsuki, descendant of the Sword God."
He was about to fight a child. An eleven-year-old girl. This entire situation could not have been less honorable to begin with, so why was his heart suddenly so calm? So full of peace?
With a clear heart but a mind in turmoil, time slowed to a crawl. Kenshin disappeared with only the sword in his hand, leaving the unused explosive tag behind.
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
Why?
Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?!
Her mind was blank.
Why? How could this happen? After last night, after finally lifting some of the burden from her heart, after someone had finally- truly, believed in her.
I can't move.
She was going to become the world's greatest swordsman, so why?
Why is the world fading.
She was stronger than anyone in the dojo, even the adults! Only her father could defeat her, and only Zoro had been stubborn enough to keep challenging her.
I don't want it to end like this.
Was she really meant to die like this? Pathetically slipping down the stairs?
I want to become the greatest swordsman. I want to become the strongest woman - no, the strongest anyone has ever been.
"I… I don't…" Her voice was weak. A tear joined the blood gushing down her head as she could do nothing but stare at the ceiling, paralyzed and bleeding out. "I don't want to die…"
Time slowed to a crawl, and she felt something reaching for her.
Offering salvation.
B̵͎̀ȅ̱͠at̟ͬ h͜i̸m̱ u̯p͔,̶͙̪̍͘͜ͅ R̷̮̙͔̿̈ȇ̉a̵̓ͥ̚͠p̉ͪ̍̒͜ h̢͖̺̾̅͡i̷͓͞ͅṡ̳͙̦͉͎ S͙̟̎ͧ̔̚͜o̗̙͠ụl̞̉ a̶n̋ḏ̸̻̭͐ͨ͐ I w̹i͆͒l͎ͥ̑l͍̲ͨ̇̔ He̢̪̹̊́͆̚a̶̢͚ͫͧl̻̗ͥ y̞ͤo̴͚͖͈ͣ͐͞ủ̷̱͆͜͠
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
Kuina and Kenshin materialized at the same time on a vast plain, perfectly flat for as far as either of them could see. The ground was firm beneath their feet, while a bright moon hung in the dark sky and illuminated their surroundings.
There was nowhere to hide, no one who could get in their way, and no way to run - not that either of them wanted to.
It was the perfect place to fight to the death.
No words passed between them as they began to circle each other, each trying to gauge the other's strength.
Kuina's eyes settled on Kenshin's stance. It was not one she was familiar with, but it looked practiced. His sword rested in his hands the same way hers rested in her own - like it belonged.
Absentmindedly, she realized that they looked a little alike in a strange way. He had nearly the same shade of dark-blue, almost black hair, and with him standing about a head taller than her, they could have passed for siblings.
Kenshin's gaze, on the other hand, was far less experienced. It went straight to her blade; the legendary Wado Ichimonji. It was a beautiful work of craftsmanship, and a small, greedy – envious – part of him wanted it.
That shameless greed died the moment his eyes met hers.
He faltered for a split second.
The modern man within him, the young adult who had died at the tender age of twenty-one, and had felt far too young to deserve to die, pushed himself to the forefront.
Kuina did not hesitate to exploit his lapse in focus.
Aware of her shorter reach, and intending to test him rather than get cocky and overcommit, she aimed for his arms. It was meant to be a probing strike, to get a feel for her opponent.
Reality decided to be different.
In a display of what even the nicest Academy teacher would call absolute bottom-tier combat sense, Kenshin dragged his arms back to pull his sword out of Kuina's range instead of blocking or simply dodging.
Which completely opened his left side.
Kuina pivoted her slash and cut cleanly into his left forearm.
Deeply.
"Fuck!" Kenshin jumped back as a sharp, electric bolt of pain shot from the back of his forearm into his fingers.
Kuina paused in confusion, her eyes following the long, deep cut while allowing him to reposition.
"You're an amateur," she observed. A mix of euphoria and strange disappointment stirred inside her.
"I've been swinging the sword since before you were born," Kenshin retorted through gritted teeth. He raised his sword before him and deliberately tested his left hand's range of motion.
Good. I can still grip the sword.
The good news was that, while the cut was deep, it was not bleeding too badly.
The bad news was that his grip felt numb. Wrong. Unreliable.
He repositioned his hands, leaning more on his dominant right, sacrificing some strength to reliably hold his sword. He could not afford to get distracted again.
I shouldn't have gotten distracted in the first place.
"If you say so."
Unwilling to give him any more time to recover, Kuina pressed forward.
This time, Kenshin was ready for the exchange.
Using his longer reach and greater stride, he fought defensively, using his superior physical strength to force her back with every clash of their swords. Kenshin knew that he was worse with a sword than she was. Worse still, he was unused to fighting at all - especially against someone who used a sword like he did.
The only person he had ever crossed blades with - wooden blades, mind you - was one of the Academy teachers. Kenshin now realized that the man had been going so easy on him that none of their "fights" had given him even the tiniest advantage in actual combat experience.
Kuina was fundamentally more skilled with the sword than he was, and her thousands of matches with Zoro alone ruined any chance he had of winning through skill or experience alone.
Could I have ever reached that level of swordsmanship? he wondered.
With every exchange, he felt like the Goliath to her David. Like the beast to her graceful beauty.
He hated how the sword in her hand moved as though it was part of her, while his own must have looked like nothing more than a lump of metal he was swinging around with brute force.
Because yes, the only way for him to win, to gain the grace he had always craved, was to use the advantages he did possess.
Stamina.
Strength.
Reach.
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
I'm enjoying this.
It was strange. She had been dying only minutes ago, and now here she was, fighting for her life.
The first blood she had drawn gave her more of an advantage than she cared to admit. The wound wasn't bleeding much, but she could tell his left-hand grip around the sword was loose.
Looser than it should have been.
She had nicked a nerve. That much was clear.
Without it, his sword strikes would have been even stronger than they already were.
He was physically stronger than her, possessed a significantly longer reach, and was just as hungry to win as she was.
But she was clearly better with the sword, and she could tell he had never truly fought another swordsman before her.
How strange, that the hardest fight of her life was against an amateur.
Yet, somehow, she was growing calmer the longer they fought.
Yes, she was beginning to slow down. She could feel it. If they continued like this, with her on the offense and him steadily pushing her back, draining her stamina, she would lose.
But every slash of her sword was cleaner.
Every attempted cut came slightly closer to landing true; her strikes were growing heavier in a way she could not explain.
But she needed more. She needed a way to win. She needed to close the distance and keep him from using his longer reach.
There were no obstacles to kite him into a bad position. No uneven ground that could disrupt his rhythm. There were just them and their swords, nothing else mattered. Nothing else could influence their fight.
Just her… and her sword.
It is so quiet.
Her eyes relaxed, her shoulders loosened.
Her labored breathing calmed, and the already quiet world around her seemed to… melt away.
For one moment, nothing mattered anymore.
There was only herself, and her sword.
And the thing she needed to cut.
She just needed to-
Cut.
One of the clearest signs of raw talent was the ability to grow under pressure.
During their entire fight, Kenshin had not improved even once. At best, he had merely grown used to using what he had already learned.
Kuina was the opposite.
This fight had more at stake than anything she had ever experienced.
With every exchange, every movement, she was growing and understanding the sword in a way she never had before. She was becoming stronger through every breath she took.
And in this exact moment of connection with her sword, with the world, she could hear it.
The world is breathing.
The following exchange happened in a split second and ended the match.
In a display of brilliance, Kuina's sword pressed against Kenshin's. But instead of clashing like so many times before, Wado Ichimonji cut cleanly through his steel blade. At the same time, Kenshin's reflexes worked in his favor for perhaps the first time in his life and let himself fall back.
And it was just barely enough - not to avoid getting cut, but to escape decapitation.
Blood burst from the wound as Wado Ichimonji carved through the left side of his jaw, bit into his neck, and split his collarbone.
At the same time, Kenshin flicked his right wrist and threw his now knife-length sword like a kunai.
Kuina, who had committed everything to that final cut, could not dodge.
With a sickening sound, his broken sword impaled Kuina's throat just as he landed on his back with a thud.
It created a strange picture.
Kenshin lay on the ground without a sword, bleeding but alive.
Kuina stood tall, her sword gripped tightly in her hands. Her eyes remained clear even as death rapidly approached.
Still, she had lost.
They both knew it.
How strange.
She had been about to die less than an hour ago, so why did this feel different?
Defeated by an amateur, by someone less skilled.
This was her first loss to someone other than her father in what felt like forever.
In hindsight, the reason for her defeat was obvious; she had treated this as a pure sword duel. An opponent throwing his sword - broken or not - had never even entered her mind.
She could never have done that. Could never have simply let go of her partner. Her symbol of swordsmanship.
Yet, despite the unorthodox way she had lost, she felt satisfied.
I'm dying.
Death was approaching again, and this time there was no impossibility offering her a chance for salvation. But this was better.
I died like a warrior, like a swordsman.
Kuina did not know what he would gain from their fight, but it had to be something great for him to push himself like this.
She could not speak. The sword lodged in her throat made sure of that.
But their eyes met all the same, and her message passed between them in a way only two people who had fought to the death could understand.
You defeated me, the woman who was going to become the strongest swordsman.
Her meaning was clear to Kenshin.
He nodded as he pressed his hand against the bleeding wound on his neck.
I will honor your dream.
No words were exchanged, but Kuina relaxed nonetheless before finally allowing herself to fall.
Kuina Shimotsuki.
The girl who had died too young.
The girl with the potential to stand at the very top of the Blue Planet.
She had died unable to escape her destiny, but she had found meaning in a different death.
This Kuina did not die by fate or misfortune. She died like a warrior.
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
Kenshin had won, and something fundamental within him was changing.
But he had no time to observe those changes. He dematerialized from the dueling plains and reappeared in his apartment, where no time seemed to have passed.
Still bleeding out.
Kenshin weakly pushed the door of his apartment open and quickly caught the attention of nearby civilians. They, in turn, alerted a shinobi, who picked up the barely conscious young man and rushed him to the hospital.
Meanwhile, Kenshin's heart and consciousness felt clear.
It had been a fight between equals.
They both had their strengths; they both had their weaknesses. And in that final exchange, it could just as easily have been his death.
Just as his consciousness started to slip through his fingers, he thought of the explosive tag still lying in his room.
Of how easily that fight could have ended; of how much danger he could have avoided.
And yet, this feels right.
His slipping rational mind finally had to admit it: He had a severe case of sword autism.
He snorted out a laugh before going limp, greatly confusing the Genin carrying him.
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
So, this chapter was faster (and easier) to write than I expected? And it's longer this time – my personal rule of thumb usually is around 4-6k words, but this ending felt right.
I hope reading the fight feels as good as writing it did; I barely slept to keep pushing out words (my words per hours is atrocious lol). Like ReplyReport Reactions:Davidmas2307, Half HP, Drunkenwolfe and 531 othersAshtonGrayJul 2, 2026Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 2 New View contentAshtonGrayFantasy ConnoisseurJul 7, 2026NewAdd bookmark#52It's different.
Kenshin performed another overhead swing, a movement he had done hundreds of thousands of times before.
Something had fundamentally changed.
A movement that should have been perfected through sheer repetition shifted ever so slightly. His feet rotated by less than a degree. He pressed his left index finger a little more firmly against the handle at the lowest point of his swing. He flexed his back muscles ever so slightly as he returned to his basic stance, shifting his center of gravity by such a minuscule amount that even the famed Sharingan would not have caught it.
Countless minute adjustments improved his simple overhead slash beyond anything he could have dreamed possible - beyond what his meager talent could ever have allowed him to achieve.
Those minor changes added up, and after just an hour of swinging his sword… he could distinctly feel it.
The growth.
The improvement.
It feels lighter. More comfortable.
Where before, he had felt like a jealous boyfriend desperately craving his girlfriend's attention… now, it felt right. Like his love was finally being reciprocated.
"How… quaint."
He switched from simple overhead swings to moving through Konoha's basic sword kata, marveling at how he could instinctively feel when a movement was wrong.
And this was just the sword talent he had gained from his duel against Kuina.
Vastly increased physical potential. A chakra reserve that was still slowly increasing - his total chakra had doubled over the last three days.
Which sounded more impressive than it was, considering how little chakra he had possessed before. Still, he could finally cast a clone without feeling lightheaded for the rest of the day!
Just a little more chakra, and I'll have enough to cast all three Academy Ninjutsu in a row.
And that was not even counting the potential to unlock Haki and master the One Piece-specific swordsman abilities.
A flare of pain cut through his collarbone and made him overextend during the final move of the kata, making him sigh.
Waking up in the Konoha Hospital should have been an uncommon occurrence. Most other Academy students would have been seriously grilled if they arrived unconscious with obvious sword-related injuries.
But Kenshin had the unfortunate reputation of being incompetent, along with an average of three hospital visits a month. Most of those were because of chakra exhaustion; when creating a single clone already pushed him close to chakra exhaustion, then crossing the line sometimes was unavoidable.
…And there had also been a good number of training injuries.
Still, Kenshin's pride suffered a hit when his doctor merely nodded, as though it were expected, after Kenshin explained that he had been doing dodge training with a clone and a real sword when the sword had unexpectedly broken, resulting in his injuries.
"I'm not that bad," he grumbled aloud, suppressing memories of the time he had been adamant about not using his hands for anything except moving his sword for an entire week.
He had cut his leg open while trying to pull up his pants on the second day.
Or the time he had tried to create a custom mid-level chakra-control exercise between Leaf Sticking and Tree Walking - which he could only maintain for a few steps before his chakra got dangerously low - by sticking the sword's handle to the back of his hand with chakra while doing his Sword kata.
Which maybe ending up with the sword falling slipping off during an overhead swing, nearly impaling his foot.
Or when—
Okay, maybe I have a reputation for stupid training-related incidents, but still!
In the privacy of his mind, Kenshin could not help but be a little surprised that they had not banned him from using real swords for training yet. Then again, he lived in a ninja village and was being trained to become a child soldier.
Do I even count as a child soldier now that I'm sixteen?
All the while, he continued swinging in a trance-like state, ignoring his screaming body's demands for rest. The doctor had been adamant that he should not use his shoulder for at least a week and avoid exercise until he had naturally recovered from the loss of blood.
And while Kenshin would normally have listened - maybe, mostly, probably not - he felt good about overtraining and just pushing forward.
His body was now, after all, made from the same cloth as Kuina's; resting was for the mediocre and untalented.
For the first time, Kenshin felt like a true Shonen character, confident that as long as he was still drawing breath, no amount of training could ever result in anything other than improvement.
And it's willpower training, Kenshin mused cheekily, the burning in his back and shoulder feeling oh-so-right instead of being truly painful. I wonder how much I could improve if I kept swinging the sword for weeks straight without stopping.
As much as he would have loved to jump into completely insane training sessions without any regard for logic or safety, he sadly only had around four weeks until his final Academy exam.
And he had nearly failed the written portion last time… he really could not afford to cut it close this time. I also need to retrain my chakra control. My control is completely shot with the massive increase in my chakra.
Regaining his barely above-average chakra control shouldn't be too difficult. He would not have to stop as often as before, and he already had about a decade of experience moving his chakra.
The main challenge would be retaining that regained control while his chakra pool kept increasing in size. The consistent increase since beating Kuina had, after all, not started to slow down yet.
And just like with the written exam, he could not afford to risk failing the ninjutsu portion.
Especially not when he would finally have the required chakra to pass it – his inability to do all three Jutsu in a row without succumbing to chakra exhaustion had been the sole reason he had not been able to graduate yet.
He also needed to earn enough money to replace his personal sword. Using Academy swords for training was all well and good, but becoming a Genin without a sword…
Yeah, no.
"One step at a time," he decided out loud. "I just need to do a few odds jobs, and reselling the explosion tag should get me there before the exam."
He had already been doing a few odd jobs every now and then, both to supplement his diet with more food - Academy student allowance was tight and becoming a teenager had greatly increased the portions he ate - and to buy said explosive tag and his previous sword. So doing a few more than normal would not cut into his training time too much.
Still, he could not wait to become a Shinobi.
Just four more weeks, and I'll be able to truly live by the sword!
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
The final exam was always a mixture of pride and melancholy for Iruka.
Children he had watched struggle and grow, becoming part of the village in truth.
"You're unusually quiet, Iruka," Mizuki said, pulling him out of his daydreaming.
"Yeah, sorry." He apologized. "This is the first group of students whose enrollment I was present for, so I'm more melancholic than usual."
Six years already since he had left active duty to focus on the village's future.
Six years since he had found his calling.
"Then the next one will be less draining for you," Mizuki said with a bark of laughter. "The eternal Academy student. Never thought we would have one like that."
In the privacy of his own mind, Iruka had to agree with Mizuki.
Kenshin was an unprecedented case. Someone who should have remained a civilian had somehow slipped through and joined the Academy and been too stubborn to give up.
There had been many discussions about expelling him much earlier, but Kenshin had impressed those curious enough to look into what the fuss was about with his undeniable work ethic and willpower. More than a few had even deemed him a potential late bloomer.
Just last year, a few teachers had even pushed to let him graduate despite his - truthfully speaking -frighteningly small chakra reserves.
But Iruka, along with pretty much every other Academy teacher, had intervened because of one simple fact that would almost certainly spell Kenshin's early demise.
While his talent for anything chakra-related was bad at best and a hindrance to the profession at worst, his complete lack of talent for combat might have been even worse.
Being three years older than the other students, he should have absolutely dominated the Taijutsu portion of the Academy. And while he was physically the strongest, and the third best in Taijutsu in this year, the average clan-born students, and even some of the civilian-born ones, got embarrassingly close to beating him.
And while giving him a sword - Kenshin's preferred method of combat – may change those results slightly, the simple truth obvious in every single match remained the same:
His combat instincts were abysmal.
More often than not, he chose the wrong - or even worst - reaction to an unexpected attack.
"I kind of feel bad for him," Mizuki mused aloud, leaning back in his chair. "Spending ten years trying to become a shinobi, only to fail here. Again. At least he's fit. He would make an excellent farmer or laborer."
"He hasn't failed yet," Iruka retorted, mainly out of principle.
But what Mizuki said did put things into perspective.
It had been six years since Iruka had retired from active field duty and become an instructor. He had been sixteen then, newly promoted to Chūnin, and the same age Kenshin was now.
"And changing professions at his age isn't impossible," Iruka continued. "Kenshin has a good head on his shoulders. I'm sure he'll be successful no matter what he decides to become."
That Iruka did not see Kenshin becoming a shinobi either was left unsaid.
"How do his scores look right now?" Mizuki asked, glancing at the clock. Only three more minutes before the second half of the prospective Academy graduates took the final and most important must-pass part of the exam: the three Academy ninjutsu.
"Pretty good, if you ignore his age."
"Let me see." Mizuki snatched the paper from Iruka's hand and started reading from the top. "Above average on the written exam. An improvement from last time."
He snickered in amusement. "He placed third during the Taijutsu portion - again, impressive enough if he weren't sixteen."
"The Chūnin overseeing the Taijutsu exam noted that he nearly beat Lee this time, and that he gave Neji far more problems than usual," Iruka interjected, always the voice of positivity when it concerned a student. "And he prefers the sword, don't forget that."
"Yeah, yeah." Mizuki rolled his eyes. "Prefers the sword, sure."
Kenshin had accumulated so many sword-related training injuries over the years that some of the teachers had started betting on when he would get injured next – Mizuki being one of them.
"Giving him a sword in a serious spar would more likely end with him losing a finger than giving his opponent a challenge."
"Second-best at breaking through Genjutsu!" Iruka interjected, getting a little fed up with Mizuki's increasing belittlement of their student.
"While also being the only one who knew breaking out of a Genjutsu was part of the exam." Mizuki retorted just as quickly while handing him the paper back and moved to open the door.
Talking about Kenshin's "impressive" results was irrelevant in the end.
Having a minimum amount of chakra, control, and general aptitude for Ninjutsu was the most fundamental part of being a shinobi.
And Kenshin lacked all three.
Compared to Rock Lee, who lacked the ability to mold chakra and would also fail this part but possessed prodigious Taijutsu talent and a Jōnin's endorsement, Kenshin did not have the excellence necessary to compensate for his lack of ninjutsu aptitude.
"Kenshin," Mizuki said upon opening the door, his eyes sweeping over the sweaty and nervous future Genin of Konoha. "It's your turn."
Props where they were due: Kenshin was one of the few who seemed confident.
How much of that confidence is fake? Or has he completely given up?
Mizuki casually formed the Ram seal while walking back to his seat, ignoring Iruka's unapproving look. He focused on sensing Kenshin's chakra, to satisfy both his curiosity and a slightly sadistic desire to get a rough impression of Kenshin's undoubtfully bad mental state.
Only to freeze for a fraction of a second.
Then he sat down as though nothing had happened, but Iruka had caught it and looked at him curiously.
"Kenshin," Mizuki said carefreely, leaning back in his chair. "Why don't you start with the Clone Jutsu?"
The moment Kenshin closed his eyes and brought his fingers together to mold chakra, Mizuki flashed Iruka the Ram seal and motioned toward their eternal Academy student.
Humoring Mizuki, Iruka focused on sensing Kenshin.
His eyes tightened before he quickly caught himself and simply waited for Kenshin to finish forming the clone.
"Clone Jutsu," Kenshin said sharply, followed by a small cloud appeared directly beside him, where an identical copy of Kenshin now stood.
For the first time since Iruka had known him, Kenshin did not look completely exhausted after creating a simple clone.
"Very good. Now use the Body Replacement Technique to switch places with your clone."
Again, differently from what they - and everyone - had expected, Kenshin successfully used the Jutsu.
And he looked completely fine.
Iruka was so focused on keeping his sensing active despite having his eyes open and not using the Ram seal as a crutch that he nearly missed Kenshin using the Transformation Technique.
Still, he could distinctly feel the technique dipped into Kenshin's chakra reserves, but impossibly, his total chakra remained at a comfortable level.
"Well done, Kenshin," Mizuki said easily, smiling as though this was just another Tuesday. "Join your classmates in your usual classroom. We will look over everyone's scores after this last part is finished and distribute forehead protectors to those who have passed."
"Thank you," Kenshin said politely, bowing stiffly before leaving the room.
The moment he was gone, Mizuki looked sharply at Iruka, his usual carefree expression gone.
"Infiltration? Or did Kenshin pay someone to take the exam for him?"
"No, that was definitely Kenshin," Iruka said, more confused than anything else.
"That's impossible," Mizuki snapped. "His chakra increased multiple times over since the last time I sensed him! Maybe a soldier pill?"
"His chakra was too calm for that."
"What else, then, Iruka?" Mizuki was getting frustrated. "You can't just increase your chakra that much, and definitely not that quickly!"
Iruka had to agree with Mizuki.
Whatever Kenshin did, it did not make sense.
Kenshin had previously possessed a below-average amount of chakra compared to the average untrained civilian, which had been the main reason for his inability to graduate.
Just now, however, Kenshin had definitely possessed roughly the average chakra reserves a clan-born shinobi was expected to have before becoming a Genin.
Deciding that this was beyond their pay grade, Iruka formed a clone.
"I'm going to report to the Hokage. I'm pretty sure that was Kenshin, but this smells like foul play."
Mizuki leaned back in his chair as he watched Iruka leave through the window before suddenly realizing that he now had to grade the rest of the students alone – a normal clone wasn't going to be of help here.
"Should have gone to report instead," he grumbled before calling in the next student.
His mind, however, was moving in an entirely different direction than Iruka's probably was.
Did Orochimaru do something?
His mind could not help but draw the conclusion.
But why him, and why in such an obvious way?
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
Later that evening, Kenshin sat in front of the small shrine he had created, the broken sword hilt from his fight with Kuina rested in the middle.
With a brand-new forehead protector lying beside him and a new Katana rested across his lap, he mentally went through his fight with Kuina like he did every day since his first fight to the death.
Every exchange.
Every clearly flawless slash of Kuina's sword.
His own honestly pathetic fumbling as he tried to keep her at a distance, succeeding only because he had possessed every advantage besides skill.
And he replayed her final cut over and over again.
How she had cut through his sword.
How it had seemed to offer her no resistance.
How the blade had felt when it cut into his face and collarbone.
"A breathing world, huh."
Kenshin's fingers traced the scar along his jaw, trying - and failing - to understand how she had done it.
But as he opened his eyes and looked at the forehead protector, the proof that he was now a Genin of the Leaf, he knew that it did not matter.
He would understand it eventually.
By doing the thing he had learned to love more than he could ever have predicted.
Fighting.
Pushing himself and his enemies beyond their limit, knowing that the wrong decision would mean death. Growing stronger, testing his sword skills against the whetstones that were the Leaf's enemies…
An honestly unhinged smile slowly grew across his face, his hands trembling with excitement.
He could not wait.
Pushing himself to the absolute limit and surpassing the Kenshin of yesterday…!
Standing up, he threw away any plans of resting for the rest of the day. He only had a week before he was placed on a team where he had to prove his worth.
Again.
And he really wanted to see how long he could swing his sword before his body gave out on him.
▬▬ι══════ﺤ
Another chappy; deciding to post this impulsively was the right decision, I've been writing more the last few days than the last few months combined lol.
Also, this is the last chapter where I so heavily focus on how untalented Kenshin was until now; I felt like I had to add the last perspective of how his lack of talent was perceived: Iruka and Mizuki. Like ReplyReport Reactions:Cap'nSmurfy, arkange994, Shadodia and 615 othersAshtonGrayJul 7, 2026NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 3 New View contentAshtonGrayFantasy Connoisseur