The morning of the exams dawned sharp and cold. Mist clung to the stone streets of the Hidden Cloud Academy, muffling the nervous chatter of dozens of students filing into the main hall. For many, this was the day they would prove their worth—the day they would step onto the path of true shinobi.
Daichi tightened the wrappings around his arms, flexing his fingers. His body trembled, but it wasn't fear—it was anticipation.
The proctor, a lean jonin with eyes like chips of granite, stepped forward. "The academy exams will test three things: control, endurance, and combat readiness. Fail in even one area, and you will be dismissed." His gaze swept the hall, making several students shrink. "There are no second chances."
Whispers rippled through the ranks. Some students smirked, confident in their clan's techniques. Others looked pale, already defeated.
Daichi felt the weight of Hideo's stare from across the hall. The rival boy's lips curled into a knowing smile, as if to say: You'll be crushed before we even fight.
The first test began outside, in the training grounds. Rows of practice stones had been set up—smooth boulders twice the students' size.
"Your task," the jonin barked, "is simple. Channel chakra into your palms and leave your mark upon the stone. How deep your mark goes will determine your score."
One by one, students stepped forward. Clan heirs sliced stone with practiced earth-style strikes, leaving jagged scars in the rock. Others managed faint scratches, drawing jeers from their peers.
When it was Daichi's turn, the courtyard quieted.
He placed both hands on the cold surface, closing his eyes. Don't force it. Feel it. Listen.
His chakra seeped into the stone slowly, carefully, until he felt the vibration of the earth resonate back. Then, with a sharp exhale, he pushed.
The boulder shuddered. A thin crack split across its face—not as wide or deep as Hideo's, but unmistakably deliberate. Controlled.
The jonin raised an eyebrow. "Not bad."
Murmurs broke out. "He's not even from a clan…" "How did he—?"
Daichi pulled his hand back, sweat beading his forehead. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress. And it was his.
When Hideo's turn came, he sauntered up to the stone, smirk never fading. His hands glowed with chakra, and with a thunderous crack, the boulder fractured nearly in half. Gasps and applause filled the yard.
Hideo turned, eyes locking on Daichi's. "See the difference? You're still scratching at pebbles, while I'm moving mountains."
Daichi didn't flinch. He looked back at his own modest crack and clenched his fists. Even the smallest fracture can bring down a cliff, given time.