The next month went by in a heap. Shizuru and I were always there. Sena had been tagging along for a while now, and lately, Genta was almost always with us too. Honestly, I think he was using us as an alibi so Daiken wouldn't keep him in drills all day, and for some reason, Daiken seemed okay with it.
For that entire month, we trained on the Clone Jutsu. Working together, comparing notes, and pointing out details helped us nail it quickly. Once we had it down, we spent the rest of the time refining it even further.
By the time the test rolled around, we were confident. No hesitation, no nerves. Most students, though, looked terrified. Their eyes kept drifting toward Daiken's fists, probably remembering his not-so-gentle warning from earlier. There was a whole lot of gulping going on. I was busy exercising my whistling abilities while Sena, Genta, and Shizuru chatted beside me. waiting for my usual end-of-the-line performance. The routine was simple. Daiken saved me for last, let the others see how it should be done, and used me to light a fire under the ones who underperformed. Honestly, he was using me like a teaching tool. And I didn't mind.
Everything went exactly as expected. All the clan kids did really well. Apparently, Daiken's threats and their parents' motivation worked. They weren't risking failure.
Shizuru went first from our group. She formed the hand sign, and her clone popped into existence. No mistakes, no flickering, no flaws. It even waved at Daiken. He didn't wave back. The audacity. Rude. But judging by the pleased look on his face, she'd nailed it.
Then Sena and Genta took their turns. Both of them performed beautifully. Not a single misstep.
Daiken looked at all four of us after that. There was a look in his eyes like he knew we had trained together, and maybe, just maybe, he approved. Not that we needed his approval, but sure, thank you, Daiken-sensei.
Then it was my turn. All eyes shifted to me, not that I wasn't used to it by now. I formed the hand seal, and a smirking clone appeared at my side. If you didn't see me cast it, you would've thought it was me standing there. Honestly, the clone's smirk made him seem more alive than I did. I was bored. He looked like he had plans.
Daiken almost smiled. Almost. Then he clapped his hands once, sharp and controlled, and my clone vanished instantly. Just like that. There was a flicker of chakra in the motion, subtle enough to miss if you weren't paying attention.
Wait. He could dispel them that easily?
Then came the part that was becoming a habit for him. The pleased tone. I guess teaching a bunch of promising clan brats was turning out to be good for his morale. Half the effort, double the results. Honestly, not a bad deal.
After class, Daiken gave the same reminder for the hundredth time, that ninjutsu needs practice, and the more you do it, the better you get. You'd think he was talking to children. Oh. Right. He was.
Anyway, the class ended, and the usual group me, Shizuru, Sena, and Genta headed to the training field for our daily physical session.
Sena's form had become sharp and elegant. She'd reached the level she wanted and maintained it with grace. Shizuru, though, was a different story. Her body was going through a growth spurt, and it was showing. She was getting taller, and her training was paying off. In my opinion, she was the strongest Nara kid around. Which, granted, isn't saying much in terms of raw strength compared to the other clans, but she was definitely an anomaly.
She didn't stop either. I think she found her groove.
Genta was incredible. His workouts were harder than mine. I actually started taking notes and adjusting my own routine. And with him nearby, I could go all out without drawing too much attention. He made me look subtle.
Shizuru was stunned the first time she saw my full training regimen. She wanted to push herself to match it, but I told her to wait until her body caught up. No point in risking her growth. I did encourage her to eat more, and to my surprise, she listened without putting up much of a fight.
Sena, on the other hand, kept sneaking glances at me while I trained. I could tell she noticed my speed. She probably realized I covered a step and a half for every step someone else took. The lightning chakra circulation was doing its job, but she hadn't figured out the reason yet.
Not far from the group, Daiken stood talking to another instructor. His eyes eventually shifted toward Noa. There were plenty of kids on the field, but his attention was fixed solely on that boy.
The other instructor followed his gaze and narrowed his eyes.
"Hm. That one's faster than the others," he muttered, eyebrows drawing in. "But I can't figure out why."
Daiken's eyes moved to the instructor, but he didn't say a word. He just smiled.
Then someone appeared next to Daiken without warning, startling the other instructor. A shinobi handed Daiken a message and disappeared just as fast. The instructor kept glancing between the spot the shinobi vanished from and Daiken's face, but Daiken ignored him, unrolling the scroll and reading in silence.
Once he finished, he folded the message, his expression shifting to something uncertain. Like he was about to take a step he hadn't fully decided on yet.
He didn't say anything. Just waved the instructor off and flickered away, heading toward the Hokage's building.
Daiken's steps were firm as he arrived. When he reached the entrance, the ANBU guarding the door let him through without a word.
Inside, Sarutobi Hiruzen sat behind his desk, pipe lit, eyes scanning over a stack of mission reports. He looked up before Daiken made a sound.
Daiken stood tall, hands clasped behind his back, spine straight. Hiruzen didn't speak right away. He continued reading the scroll in front of him, dragging from his pipe and letting the silence stretch. It wasn't uncomfortable. It was deliberate.
Eventually, Hiruzen set the scroll down, adding it to the growing pile of reports. His eyes met Daiken's, sharp despite his age.
"Your message said it was urgent. Speak."
Daiken nodded. "It concerns a student in my class. Noa."
"Ah," Hiruzen said, leaning back. "The civilian boy with... unusual reserves."
"That's the one. He's outpaced the curriculum. Not just a little, but by a lot. His ninjutsu is almost always near perfect, and he does it with less effort than most fourth years. His physical ability is exceptional. Chakra control too. But more than that... it's how he thinks."
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"I've seen enough prodigies to recognize the signs. He doesn't just learn. He absorbs, adapts, and quietly improves beyond what we teach. He's self-driven, not because he wants praise, but because he has to be. And he's hiding more than he shows."
Hiruzen tapped his pipe against the ashtray. "And you believe he's ready for early graduation?"
"I believe holding him back would be a mistake. But promoting him outright would be just as bad."
The Hokage went quiet, his gaze drifting toward the window. The Hokage Monument loomed in the distance. When he turned back, his voice was quieter.
"You're not wrong. I've had ANBU keep a light watch on him since the Root incident. Nothing regular. Not close enough to alert him. Just enough to stay informed. His progress is irregular. His behavior doesn't quite match that of a boy his age."
Daiken nodded. He'd suspected as much.
"He's not dangerous, Hokage-sama. Not in that way. But if we keep him stuck in the Academy, one of two things will happen. He'll either stop growing... or he'll start hiding even more."
Hiruzen exhaled smoke through his nose, thoughtful. "So. What are you proposing?"
"A middle path," Daiken said, his tone steady before continuing with restrained enthusiasm. "Not full graduation. Not yet. A tailored program. Restricted missions, controlled exposure, oversight. Let him grow without a ceiling, but still within a structure."
"You want me to bend protocol," Hiruzen said, giving him a judging look.
"I want you to use a rare asset before the system breaks him," Daiken replied.
The silence that followed was heavier.
Eventually, Hiruzen stood and moved to the window. He watched the village for a while before speaking.
"When I was younger, I thought talent was enough. But I've seen too many gifted shinobi fall. Because the system failed them. Or because they thought they didn't need one."
Daiken remained silent.
Hiruzen turned back, his voice somewhere between sadness and resignation. "I'm not happy pushing another young prodigy toward the grinder." He paused, then added, "But we're buried in missions. The village is in dire need of shinobi."
After another long drag from his pipe, his tone shifted to one of quiet resolve.
"Fine. You'll draft this specialized program yourself. Submit it for my approval. If I agree to it, I want weekly reports. And if anything goes sideways…"
"I'll shut it down personally," Daiken said, bowing.
"Good," Hiruzen said. "And Daiken?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama?" Daiken responded, clearly satisfied with how the conversation had gone.
"Keep an eye on his heart. Power is easy to see. What's harder is whether it's growing toward something... or away from it."
Daiken understood exactly what he meant. He gave a respectful nod, then turned and left. The doors shut quietly behind him.