On the day of the Transformation Jutsu exam, we were greeted by Daiken wearing a face only a mother could love. He looked like someone had stolen his lunch money and handed it over to an enemy village right before his eyes. Terrifying stuff. It made almost every clan kid visibly nervous. But if I had to guess, he wasn't genuinely angry. He probably did it to apply pressure and see how well we performed under stressful conditions, since shinobi almost always have to use their jutsu in battle. If that was true, and I had a feeling it was, then Daiken really was an amazing teacher.
We stood in a huge indoor training hall. Sunlight poured generously through the large windows, giving the room an amazing, warm, and bright atmosphere. I had to give it to them, they designed this Academy really well. Come to think of it, were there engineer shinobi? What would their abilities be? Would it be considering themselves superior to regular shinobi?
"Let's begin." Daiken's sharp voice cut through my pointless thoughts.
The test started and too my surprise, a lot of clan kids couldn't perform the jutsu perfectly. Their performances were acceptable, totally fine if you asked me, but Daiken's reaction was pure disappointment, like he expected us to achieve perfect mastery within a single week and transform into the Sage of Six Paths himself. After most of the clan kids had finished their attempts, it was finally time for the top students. Daiken had intentionally saved the best for last to put additional pressure on those who hadn't performed perfectly.
First up was Kaen, who performed the jutsu impressively, transforming into Shota Aburame, his training partner. Shota himself performed quite well afterward, as did Sena.
Shizuru, who had trained with Kenta Inuzuka, transformed into an almost perfect image of him, clearly showcasing her remarkable talent.
Next came Misaki Hyuga. She was extremely nervous for some reason, but she steeled herself, took a deep breath, and quickly performed the hand seals. With a puff of smoke, her transformed form appeared.
To my absolute horror, standing there in her place was... me. Not just a generic version either. No. It was terrifyingly accurate.
I started screaming internally and slightly externally too. I wanted to leap out of the nearest window. No, scratch that. I wanted to invent a new jutsu that erases memories, specifically, everyone else's memory of this exact moment. Who trained with her? Who gave her this idea? I need names. This is a declaration of psychological warfare, and I was not prepared.
The worst part was the smile she wore as she turned her head and looked straight at me. It was the one I reserved exclusively for mouth-watering food or once-in-a-lifetime discounts. It creeped me out so much it reaffirmed my understanding of why merchants are terrified of me. Why on earth did she transform into me though? Every single person in the class turned to stare, and I groaned audibly. Even Daiken had a strange expression on his face, but I was way too unsettled to try and figure out what it meant.
I stood there, breathing audibly as if I were pressure-cooking rice inside my body. Misaki reverted back to herself, looking at me expectantly, as if I were supposed to reward her. Instead, I closed my eyes and rubbed them in silence.
She had to step aside to let the next person attempt the jutsu, which she reluctantly did, her eyes fixed on me the entire time. Transforming into someone whose body was drastically different from your own was very difficult. She must have made a titanic effort to succeed, and knowing that made things even worse.
Then came Genta Senju. He approached cautiously, looking concerned and hesitant after what had happened with Misaki. His expression silently asked if it was still okay for him to transform into me, or if that would be weird now. I nodded slightly, and visible relief appeared on his face. He confidently performed the hand seals and flawlessly transformed into a perfect imitation of me. To top it off, he delivered a sentence in an imitation of my voice that was surprisingly decent.
"Hi, I'm Noa, and I'm pleased to be your friend."
A deadpan look appeared on my face as I stared at him in disbelief. Then I narrowed my eyes as he flashed me my signature smirk, a smirk that stung particularly hard because, well, it was mine in the first place.
Narrowing my eyes further, I walked toward the test circle as Genta reverted back, smiling at Daiken's pleased nod. If Daiken nodded, it practically meant he considered you qualified to be the next Hokage. Finally, I was the last student left to be tested.
I stood in the test circle, perfectly still. Taking a breath, I closed my eyes briefly, then released it slowly as I opened them, performing the hand seals. Lo and behold, a perfect imitation of Genta Senju appeared. Daiken's cold stare shifted into a slight smile, clearly satisfied by my textbook-perfect execution of the jutsu. He was about to speak when I quickly interrupted, using a decent but slightly imperfect imitation of Genta's voice.
"Hi, I'm Genta Senju, and my hobbies include knitting, brushing cats, and singing shinobi boy band songs." I chuckled shyly for added effect.
Genta's eyes widened in absolute horror as the rest of the clan kids burst into laughter. To my astonishment, even Daiken chuckled softly for a fraction of a second. I was becoming far too powerful. If I could make Daiken chuckle, someone should seal me away. Stones shouldn't react like that.
I transformed back to my original form, flashing Genta's accusing glare a larger smirk than the one he had given me earlier. Still, I knew he was merely annoyed rather than genuinely angry, which was exactly why I enjoyed training with him.
Daiken addressed the class firmly. "Keep working on your jutsu. Once I'm satisfied with your performance, we'll move on to the Clone Jutsu, so don't take too much time. Starting today, I'll randomly test some of you, so don't slack off. Work on perfecting your execution."
He narrowed his eyes further, releasing a frightening aura. "No slacking. Am I clear?"
Every clan kid vigorously nodded their head up and down. Daiken kept his gaze locked on the students as if carefully evaluating something, before finally reverting to his usual cold, steel-blue stare.
He led us back to the classroom, and once we were seated, he began his lecture.
"You're all strong. You have chakra control, speed, and power. But if you rush into battle simply because you can, you'll end up dead. Strength is meaningless if your brain is turned off."
He paused. Nobody dared to move.
"This is Tactical Thinking. It means using your head before your fists. It means pausing for half a second and asking yourself: Is this worth it? What's the goal? What's the smartest way to win without getting hurt?"
Daiken walked over to the board and swiftly drew three stick figures in clean, precise strokes.
"This figure is you. This one is your enemy. And this one," he tapped the chalk firmly on the third figure, "is your teammate. If you charge in recklessly, you block your teammate's vision, maybe even get in their way, forcing them to waste chakra saving your careless self."
He turned back, his voice steady and measured.
"But if you pause for just one second, one second, before you start the fight or alert the enemy, and think, Where should I be? Who's best suited for each role? Then you act with a plan. When you act with a plan, you live longer, strengthen your team, and win without wasting energy."
Daiken stepped back, carefully scanning the room.
"You're seven years old, but that's no excuse. If you can throw a kunai, you can throw a thought first."
He paused for a beat, then added, "Imagine a shinobi walking into a trap because they didn't scan their environment properly and just rushed forward, focusing on emotion instead of logic."
"Starting today, we'll begin basic mission drills. You'll explain your plans and approach clearly. It'll be theoretical at first, but expect practical drills before the year ends."
He allowed the silence to stretch meaningfully for a second.
"Because the only thing worse than a weak shinobi is a stupid one."