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Chapter 41 - Chapter 41: Success

"Holy… that kick!"

"Is Kazama-sensei… dead?"

"I doubt it, but if that had hit me I'd be done."

"Kazama-sensei's Wind-Style Flicker is too fast. If she hadn't landed something decisive, the wind would have kited that girl to exhaustion."

The teachers erupted. A fight they thought was over had flipped in a heartbeat.

The blind girl who looked delicate and fought with Water Release turned out to be a tiny berserker. One kick, and the formidable Kazama Etsu lost the will to fight.

"That taijutsu…"

Mitsuda-sensei was stunned.

Maybe she really was Guy's seed after all.

What kind of woman would it take to cancel out Guy's… looks, add Water Release talent, and crank it all the way up like this?

His wife is the Mizukage?

No, that made no sense. The current Mizukage is a man.

Mitsuda's imagination ran wild.

Might Guy was just as shell-shocked.

For all his mastery of taijutsu, he had not seen a trace of training on Konome's frame. She looked soft, skin dewy as if it could be wrung for water.

Water Release suited her, that much he could believe.

But that kick was terrifying, a flash that even hinted at Morning Peacock.

"Beautifully done, Konome!"

Guy threw a thumbs-up, grinning wide.

Konome frantically motioned for him to tone it down.

Guy misread it as banter and raised his voice. "This is youth!"

Konome refused to look at him.

"Cough… cough…"

Far off, Kazama Etsu, who had lain motionless after his flight, hacked twice, braced an arm to the ground, and staggered upright. "Cough… almost died."

"Sensei, may I enroll?"

Konome tilted her head at the jōnin struggling to his feet, sounding perfectly innocent.

"Heh…"

Kazama actually laughed, more out of breath than humor.

The green flak jacket over his chest had been kicked to pieces. A charred bootprint blackened the center of his sternum.

If he hadn't flooded his chest with chakra in the last instant to blunt the impact, he would have blacked out.

With strength like that, and she still pretends to be a newbie?

He should have opened with Wind Release and carved her up.

Kazama ground his teeth. "Fine. Enroll, and I will assign you homework every single day."

Konome pressed her lips into a cool line. "Your taijutsu is a little weak. When you assign work, skip those problems so you don't mislead your students."

Kazama fell silent.

Something in his chest seized. He could not tell if it was the cracked ribs or the bruised pride.

"Go with Mitsuda-sensei to pay your fees and collect your textbooks. Elite class. You start tomorrow."

"I'll handle it. You head to the hospital," Mitsuda said, patting his own chest.

Kazama nodded toward him, formed a seal with effort, and vanished on a whisper of wind.

Guy and Konome followed Mitsuda to the bursar.

The other teachers, seeing the show was over, drifted off in pairs, chattering excitedly.

They had seen and taught their share of prodigies.

Setting aside the older generation who went to war as children, there was Namikaze Minato, who defeated a Kumogakure jōnin before graduating. Hatake Kakashi, who graduated at five, became chūnin at six, jōnin at twelve, and created his own jutsu. Uchiha Itachi, who graduated at seven, made chūnin at ten, and at thirteen was rumored to already lead an ANBU squad.

If Konoha lacked anything, it was not talent.

Kazama Etsu himself had once been a famed prodigy.

Yet even among prodigies there are tiers.

A six-year-old beating a jōnin class opponent.

Yes, Kazama had held back the big Wind Release techniques. A win is still a win. In shinobi combat, intel, bait, and deception are standard tools of the trade.

There was no doubt: among prodigies, Konome Taketori stood at the very top.

Her name would be carved deep into Konoha's history.

And they, as witnesses, felt a guilty pride.

"Naruto, who won? Did you even see?"

"Quiet, quiet!"

At the back of the crowd, the little toughs had shown up late and could not force their way forward. Worse, they had cut class, and the front was full of teachers. Charging in would be turning themselves in.

Snatches of teacherly gossip drifted back to them, making everyone itch with curiosity.

Shikamaru had an idea. Human pyramid. Hoist someone up to broadcast a play-by-play.

They agreed: Chōji as the base, Inuzuka Kiba in the middle, the lightest, Naruto, on top.

"Well? What do you see, Naruto?"

Haruno Sakura was frantic. Rumor said the handsome Kazama-sensei was on the ropes, and she was beside herself.

"Can't see. It's all fog in there."

Naruto squinted into a toy telescope. No luck.

"If you can't, let me," Kiba said, shoulders trembling under Naruto's weight.

"I am about to collapse," Chōji grunted from the bottom.

"Arf arf arf…"

Sasuke could not stand Naruto's dithering.

He found a tall tree, climbed to the crown, and peered toward the field.

Too far. No scope. Still nothing.

He refused to ask Naruto for help, and he could not bear to climb down and be questioned.

He just muttered "Boring," jumped down, and stalked off.

A trio of teachers came walking by.

They spotted the little brats stacked like acrobats, craning for a look. Thinking of Konome, who was their age and had just beaten a jōnin, they found the sight even more irritating.

"Isn't it class time? Whose class are you?"

"Uh oh. Run!"

The shout sent them scattering. Naruto toppled off Kiba's shoulders in a panic.

Someone tossed a smoke bomb. Naruto scrambled up and sprinted.

"Run, Hinata!"

Ino grabbed a dazed Hinata and fled the scene.

"Cough, cough…"

The teachers threw sleeves over their faces. When the smoke cleared, the culprits were gone.

"Little punks."

"Fast on their feet, at least."

"Hey, there is still one. You, the kid with sunglasses. Which class are you?"

"Huh?"

The one they stopped was Aburame Shino, who had been ignored by Iruka and his classmates earlier, wandered off in gloom, and somehow walked right into the net.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Stop looking around. Name, class, and a three-thousand-word written reflection. You are not getting out of it."

"I…"

Aburame Shino contemplated the inevitability of fate.

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