Chapter 14: A Display of Terrifying Strength
"Shikamaru, this is an evaluation. Please try to focus." Iruka's voice held a note of strained patience, pitched a little louder than necessary.
Shikamaru let out another monumental sigh, the very picture of existential exhaustion. "So… troublesome…" he drawled. Nevertheless, he shuffled forward, plucked a shuriken from the basket as if it were a mildly offensive piece of lint, and with a flick of his wrist that conveyed utter boredom, sent it spinning towards the target.
Thud.
It landed squarely in the third ring from the center—the absolute minimum passing score.
"Nara Shikamaru… 60 points," Iruka announced, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. He could already imagine the awkward conversation with the Hokage about the Nara clan heir's… minimalist approach to shurikenjutsu. "Shikamaru, could you perhaps… apply a bit more effort next time?"
"Iruka-sensei," Shikamaru replied, blinking slowly, "I was applying effort. That's just… my level." His tone suggested that any further discussion would be an intolerable imposition on his right to be profoundly unbothered.
Iruka sighed deeply and moved on.
As the test continued, a predictable pattern emerged. The clan children—Yamanaka, Aburame, Akimichi—performed with competent, pre-trained ease, scoring in the 80s and 90s. The civilian-born students struggled, many failing or just scraping by. It was a stark, early lesson in the inherent inequalities of the shinobi world.
"Next, Uchiha Sasuke."
A hush fell over the group. Sasuke, surrounded by his coterie of sighing admirers, stepped forward with an air of casual supremacy. He didn't even look at the basket; three shuriken seemed to materialize between his fingers. With a fluid, almost dismissive motion of his wrist, he let them fly.
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
Three crisp impacts echoed in quick succession. Each shuriken was dead-center in the bullseye of a different target.
The reaction was immediate. Gasps of awe. Murmurs of "Incredible!" and "Uchiha clan… so scary!" The girls erupted into a fresh wave of squeals and declarations of undying love.
Sakura surged forward, her eyes sparkling. "Sasuke-kun! You're amazing!"
Sasuke merely held up a hand to stop her advance, a slight frown on his face. "This pink-haired one is so loud. Annoying."
Iruka, recovering from the display, cleared his throat. "Alright, settle down. Uchiha Sasuke, 100 points. Excellent. Next up is…" He consulted his clipboard, and his eyes instinctively sought out the back of the group. His expression tightened minutely. "...Uzumaki Naruto."
All eyes swiveled. The gazes were heavy with unspoken judgment, curiosity, and lingering fear from the first-day glare. While no one dared to openly jeer, the collective stare was its own form of pressure.
"Naruto-kun," a small, determined voice piped up from beside him. Hinata, her face pale but her eyes resolute, clenched her tiny fists. "G-good luck!"
Naruto gave her a quick, genuine smile and a wink before turning and walking to the front, his posture relaxed, utterly ignoring the weight of the stares.
As he passed, Sasuke's sharp eyes narrowed. He could feel the hostility radiating from the other students, a silent, cold wall directed at the blond boy. It ignited a spark of protective anger in him. He's supposed to be under my watch. Who are they to look at him like that?
Nearby, Inuzuka Kiba watched with keen interest, a grin spreading on his face. His parents had given him the same vague warnings about the "dangerous" Uzumaki kid, but all he saw was a guy who didn't seem dangerous at all. Was my old man just lying?
Naruto reached the throwing line and picked up a standard practice shuriken. He balanced it on his fingertip. "So light… like a feather," he murmured to himself. With his current strength, he felt he could probably throw this thing clear through the training ground wall and into the next district. Sorry, Kakuzu, your record might be in jeopardy.
Iruka, his face a careful mask of professional neutrality, nodded. "You may begin when ready, Naruto."
Naruto nodded back, his expression turning focused. He decided to test the waters—use about half of his current physical strength. He concentrated, his blue eyes sharpening as he locked onto the distant wooden target. He felt the dense power coiling in his arm and shoulder, and on a whim, he channeled a thin stream of chakra into his hand and the shuriken itself, reinforcing it.
He drew his arm back, muscles taut like steel cables beneath his skin, and then unleashed the throw.
It wasn't a throw. It was a launch.
There was no graceful whirr. There was a sharp, concussive CRACK of air being parted violently, like a miniature thunderclap.
The shuriken became a gray blur. It didn't spin towards the target; it slammed into it.
BOOM!!!!
The human-shaped wooden target didn't just get hit. It exploded. Splinters and chunks of wood erupted outwards in a cloud of dust and debris. The shuriken, barely slowed, continued its trajectory and smashed into the stone-reinforced earthen wall behind the target line with a sickening CRUNCH, blasting out a small, cratered hole and sending a spiderweb of cracks radiating across the wall's surface.
Silence.
Absolute, deafening silence.
Naruto stared at the devastation, his own jaw slightly slack. …Oops. That was… half? He glanced down at his hand. The system's "Combat Power: 30.1" suddenly seemed like a grossly inadequate, perhaps even sarcastic, descriptor.
The silence shattered into a cacophony of stunned exclamations.
"Wha—?!"
"Holy—!"
"Did… did he just… obliterate the target?!"
Iruka stood frozen, his clipboard hanging limply at his side. His mind, trained for combat and strategy, briefly short-circuited. A monster… he really is… He shook himself, forcing his Hokage-appointed professionalism to the fore. He cleared his throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet that had returned.
"Uzumaki Naruto… 100 points." His voice was admirably steady, though a little higher than usual. "And, Naruto? In the future, please… moderate your strength. The training equipment comes from the village budget."
Naruto had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Ah… sorry, Iruka-sensei. Won't happen again." Probably.
He walked back to the group. The other students practically fell over themselves to create a wider berth for him. The earlier judgment in their eyes was now completely overwritten by pure, unadulterated shock and a dawning, fearful respect. The "demon fox" legend had just received a very tangible, very destructive data point.
Sasuke's cool facade had cracked completely. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He looked from the shattered remnants of the target to Naruto's retreating back, his mind reeling. Mother… you told me to protect him… from WHAT, exactly? Protect him from boredom?*
Hinata, however, was a vision of pure, uncomplicated awe. Her pale eyes were wide, shining with stars as she gazed at Naruto. "Naruto-kun… amazing…" she breathed, her earlier shyness forgotten in the face of such overwhelming prowess.
"Troublesome…" Shikamaru muttered again, but this time there was a new, wary note in his voice as he eyed the crater in the wall.
Kiba's jaw was practically on the ground. He pointed a trembling finger at the destruction. "See?! SEE?! That's what my dad called 'dangerous'?! That's not dangerous, that's a walking natural disaster! And they told me not to play with him? I wanna be on his team!"
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. The theoretical class on chakra theory was a drone in the background for most students, their minds still replaying the image of the exploding target.
Finally, the dismissal bell rang. As the class began to pack up, Naruto turned to the girl beside him, who was carefully putting her pencils away.
"Hinata-chan," he said, his voice casual and friendly. "You want to get some ramen with me? I just remembered I have a buy-one-get-one-free coupon I haven't used yet."
The simple invitation hit Hinata with the force of a gentle, but completely effective, taijutsu strike. The blush that had receded came roaring back, painting her face a brilliant, luminous crimson. Her hands froze over her pencil case. Her mouth opened, but only a soft, high-pitched squeak emerged.
"I… I… I…"
(End of Chapter)
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