"The Otsutsuki bloodline… it's changing me every moment."
Uchiha Shigure adjusted the collar of his shirt and stepped out into the sunlit streets of Konoha. Chakra hummed gently at the edges of his skin, restless yet obedient, as if waiting for his call. In his chest, he felt the confidence of someone who already knew he had surpassed the bound limitations of a typical genin—yet today, he still had to begin like any other: by attending the Ninja Academy's graduation exam.
The schoolyard buzzed with activity when he arrived. Some students whispered nervously, while others laughed too loud, trying to hide their fear under bravado. By the time Shigure opened the door, the exam had already begun. He slipped into the only seat left—shoulders loose, face calm.
A soft voice greeted him. "Shigure. I heard you were in the hospital. Are you… doing better now?"
He turned his head slowly, eyes landing on the girl beside him. Her hair was a brilliant shade of red, tied neatly behind her head. Her pale eyes and flawless porcelain skin were unmistakable. A Hyūga. Somebody from the main branch perhaps, or maybe a cadet from a side household.
"I'm fine." His answer was curt, and he turned away without fanfare.
Her lips parted as if to continue, but his quiet dismissal left her biting back her words. Shigure didn't care; he had other things to focus on. Secretly, chakra shifted within his eyes—his mutated Sharingan opening with a subtle gleam—and suddenly, the entire classroom became transparent to him.
Dozens of chakra networks glowed in vibrant detail. Each student was exposed to his gaze: nervous beginners fumbling with their reserves, raw trainees learning to control energy that leaked wastefully. None compared to the storm of chakra he'd felt from Sarutobi Hiruzen the day before. These kids were, at best, sparks.
Still, a few signatures stood out. Denser, more refined. When his eyes flicked over the familiar patterns, he realized they belonged to members of the Uchiha and Hyūga clans. His lips curved faintly. So I'm not the only one from a storied lineage sitting in this room.
The teacher's voice cut across the chatter. "Today's graduation exam shall proceed as usual. From the Three Academy Techniques, I will assign one at random. Perform the jutsu well, and you pass." He glanced at his clipboard. "First examinee… Hyūga Akane!"
The red-haired Hyūga girl rose nervously from her seat and stepped to the front.
"You will perform a Transformation Technique," the instructor ordered. "Transform into me… begin."
She formed seals with trembling hands, her chakra flaring unevenly. Bang! A puff of smoke burst, and in her place stood a perfect replica of the teacher. Her eyes opened timidly, waiting for judgment.
But Shigure's Sharingan tracked everything. The leaking chakra, the wasted energy, the slightly unstable molding. For an Academy student, it was impressive enough. But to his new eyes, it was child's play. He had not only memorized the hand seals but also mapped out the chakra path through her body. The transformation, imperfect as it was, already belonged to him.
"Pass," the instructor declared.
The exam continued, dozens of nervous children stepping forward one by one. Shigure remained slouched, absorbing everything with the crimson tomoe of his eyes, copying, dissecting, storing every movement as though flipping through a book. By the time half the class had tried, the three techniques—the Transformation, Substitution, and Clone—were already his.
"Next!" The examiner consulted his list. "Uchiha Mamoru!"
A boy swaggered toward the teacher. His black hair framed sharp, arrogant eyes that scanned the room with thinly veiled contempt. As he glanced back, he made a mocking gesture toward Shigure—an unmistakable provocation.
Murmuring spread instantly.
"Did you see that? He's picking a fight with Shigure."
"That poor guy… he's always last, isn't he? He's doomed if Mamoru gets him outside."
"Yeah… Uchiha Shigure can't even pass normally. Now he's acting arrogant?"
Shigure said nothing. His head rested on folded arms atop his desk, his breathing so steady he appeared to be asleep.
"Clone Technique. Begin," the examiner instructed.
Mamoru snapped through the hand seals smoothly, smirking as smoke erupted beside him—producing a second body, his clone. The instructor nodded approvingly.
But in Shigure's sight, it was pitiful. Chakra wavered weakly in the copy, already dispersing. The durability wasn't even a second. He let disdain spill from his lips before he could resist.
"This is called a clone?" His voice carried through the classroom like a whip. Heads turned, eyes widening. "You wasted half your chakra. The copy's unstable. It vanished after a heartbeat. If that's your limit, it's embarrassing."
The air in the room froze. Hinata Akane blinked at him in disbelief. Why is he saying this publicly? Shigure was always the weakest before…
Mamoru's face twisted with rage. "You dare—!" He forced a laugh, loud and mocking. "The Clone Technique is only meant to confuse. Perfect or imperfect doesn't matter! And what, you think you can perform it better?!"
The teacher glanced between them, both irritated and curious. "Uchiha Mamoru, return to your seat. Uchiha Shigure… since you're so confident, you will demonstrate all three techniques."
The room stirred with barely restrained excitement. For once, everyone was waiting to see Shigure fail.
Shigure, however, rose with casual ease. "Fine."
He walked to the front, his hands forming seals with such fluid perfection it looked like he had trained them for a lifetime.
"Substitution Technique."
With a sharp bang, the boy before the class vanished—replaced by a wooden log. Gasps erupted as Shigure reappeared at his desk, head pillowed once more on folded arms. He spoke without even lifting his head.
"Report: Substitution used. Done."
Laughter and whispers filled the classroom. Mamoru shot to his feet, furious. "That's it?! One technique poorly done, and you call yourself proud?"
The teacher, however, squinted carefully at the corner of the room. His eyes widened. "No… that wasn't simply Substitution."
Silence fell. The examiner's lips curved faintly. "Uchiha Shigure… has passed."
"W-what?!" Mamoru stared in disbelief.
The truth unraveled only when class ended. Mamoru stormed to the examiner's desk, demanding answers. "Teacher, what the hell did you mean?! He didn't even show transformation or cloning. Why pass him?!"
The teacher folded his arms. "Because he did them before you even realized. While you were laughing at him, Shigure had already created a clone to sit in his chair. That clone performed the Substitution Jutsu, replacing itself with wood. Meanwhile, the original Transformation disguised the act so smoothly you never noticed. By the time you even looked—he'd already completed all three."
Mamoru's jaw slackened. "That's impossible! Even I couldn't see him make a single seal!"
"That's what makes him terrifying. You're the same age, and yet his execution was beyond you—even beyond my perception." The teacher's expression turned thoughtful. "And make no mistake, what he used wasn't a simple Clone Technique at all. The chakra distribution was dense, independent."
Mamoru froze. "…The Shadow Clone Technique?!"
The teacher nodded slowly.
Mamoru's fists shook with rage. "A B-rank ninjutsu… at the Academy?! How—how is he—?!"
"You want the answer? Go ask him yourself." The instructor dismissed him with a wave.
And for the first time, Uchiha Mamoru realized there was something inside Uchiha Shigure—not weakness, but a danger that even Konoha's teachers could barely measure.
And as the Academy buzz spread with whispers of his impossible display, Uchiha Shigure smiled faintly. For the first time, his strength had been shown—and the world had only begun to glimpse what he truly was.