A Small Test at the Ninja Academy

The Ninja Academy's practical combat test was held on Wednesday afternoon.

Iruka stood in the center of the training ground, holding a score sheet and a brush. His forehead protector gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, its metal plate polished bright.

"Today's test will be one-on-one taijutsu sparring," Iruka said, his voice reaching every student clearly. "There are three grading criteria: proper execution of basic movements, reaction speed in actual combat, and basic chakra control."

He paused and tapped the score sheet with his brush.

"I'll assign the pairings. When your name is called, report to Training Ground Three."

The students stood at the edge of the training ground, chattering among themselves.

Shuo Ye stood at the back of the crowd, his hands in his pockets.

Ino stood in front of him. Her blonde hair shone brightly in the afternoon sun as she talked to the girl beside her, letting out short bursts of laughter now and then.

Naruto was to his left.

More precisely, Naruto stood about three meters to Shuo Ye's left. He stood alone with his hands in his pockets, scuffing the ground with the tips of his shoes. No one stood beside him.

Some of the children were looking at Naruto.

Not the way one looked at a classmate, but the way one looked at something that should not have been there. Seven-year-olds did not know how to hide their stares. Their eyes said everything they wanted to say.

Shuo Ye saw those looks.

He said nothing.

"Uchiha Sakuya versus Ino Yamanaka."

Iruka's voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

"Huh?" Ino turned around, still pointing at herself, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and dissatisfaction. "Teacher, you said I'd be paired with a girl—"

"Last-minute adjustment," Iruka said, in a tone that allowed no argument. "Uchiha Sakuya's taijutsu rating is B, while Ino Yamanaka's is B+. You two will spar and help each other improve."

Ino pursed her lips but said nothing more. She walked to the center of the training ground, turned to face Shuo Ye, and formed a somewhat imperfect ready seal with her hands.

"Please go easy on me," she said.

Her voice was polite. But there was a trace of defiance in her eyes.

Shuo Ye walked over to stand opposite her.

The spar began.

Ino attacked first. Her opening stance was a Yamanaka Style basic—using softness to overcome strength, borrowing the opponent's force to counterattack. She had learned some foundational jujutsu from her clan. Though she was not yet proficient, her movements had begun to take shape.

Her right hand reached out, trying to seize Shuo Ye's wrist.

Shuo Ye turned sideways and yielded the move.

Not because he could not avoid it—he did so deliberately.

Based on the combat strength assessment system from his previous life's Naruto world, his actual taijutsu level was roughly above average among genin. But his body was that of a seven-year-old, and both his strength and speed were limited, so the combat ability he could actually display had to be discounted.

After that discount, he was probably at the threshold of low-level chunin.

But he could not show it.

He slowed his movements by thirty percent. He held back forty percent of his strength. He deliberately delayed his reaction time by 0.3 seconds.

He had not consciously calculated those numbers—it was simply that after prolonged "disguise training," his body had developed muscle memory. His body knew exactly how much strength to use and how fast to move to avoid drawing attention.

Ino's second attack came. This time, her angle was trickier—an upward strike from below, aimed at the inside of Shuo Ye's elbow.

Shuo Ye blocked it with his forearm.

With a smack, flesh struck flesh.

It did not hurt. But Ino was indeed stronger than most girls.

The two exchanged several more rounds.

Shuo Ye kept controlling himself. He had calculated it—in the seventh exchange, he would deliberately reveal an opening. His left foot was positioned two centimeters off, and his center of gravity tilted slightly.

Ino caught that opening.

Her right leg swept over. Shuo Ye "lost his footing," staggered back three steps, and landed sitting on the ground.

"Good." Iruka made a note from the sidelines.

Ino ran over and held out her hand.

"Are you okay?"

Her concern was genuine. She had not fully pulled back that sweeping kick.

"I'm fine." Shuo Ye took her hand and stood up.

He brushed the dust off his pants.

As he did, he calculated his score.

He had lost this match. But he had lost perfectly—not so obviously that anyone would think he had deliberately held back, yet not so well that anyone would think he was strong.

Iruka wrote something on the score sheet. Shuo Ye could not see it, but he could roughly guess what it was.

After all the sparring matches ended, Iruka put away the score sheets.

"Everyone performed better overall in today's test than last time," he said, sweeping his gaze across the group. "But there are still some problems. Some of you performed poorly, while others failed to display the level you should have."

His gaze swept across the entire field and lingered on Shuo Ye for about half a second.

Then it moved on.

After school, Shuo Ye did not go straight home.

He went around to the back of the Ninja Academy's office building, where there was a row of lockers for students to store their personal belongings. His locker was in the bottom row, number 17.

He opened it and put his ninja tool pouch inside, then saw a sheet of paper.

His score sheet.

Iruka had already placed one in every student's locker. It was a new Ninja Academy rule—rather than posting them publicly, they were left in individual lockers to protect the students' self-esteem.

Shuo Ye took out the score sheet.

Taijutsu: B (Good)

Chakra Control: B+ (Good+)

Theory: B (Good)

Overall Rating: B (Good)

In the remarks section, Iruka had written a line with his brush.

The handwriting was neat, the kind developed after years of teaching—firm, yet carrying a touch of roundness.

"Has potential, but does not work hard enough. Hope he will put in more effort."

Shuo Ye stared at that line for a long time.

"Has potential, but does not work hard enough."

That was exactly the evaluation he wanted.

Not outstanding. Not lagging behind. Safely remaining in the "good" range, without attracting anyone's attention.

On Ninja Academy score sheets, a B rating was a safe place. An A rating would earn a teacher's special attention, while a C rating would mean remedial lessons. Only B was the sort of rating that could be overlooked—safe, unnoticed, and not worth a second glance.

He folded the score sheet and tucked it into his pocket.

When he walked out of the school gates, the setting sun had dyed the entire street orange-red.

Naruto came running up from behind.

"Shuo Ye! Wait for me!"

His voice was loud, echoing far down the twilight street. Several passing adults heard it, turned to look, then frowned and hurried away.

Naruto did not notice those looks.

Or rather, he was already used to them.

"You were amazing in the sparring today!" Naruto ran up beside Shuo Ye, panting. "You threw that fat Akimichi clan kid to the ground three times!"

"Mm," Shuo Ye said.

He did not want to discuss today's sparring. Naruto's opponent had been Choji—in Shuo Ye's memories, Naruto and Choji would later become best friends. But for now, they were only classmates.

"When you fought Ino today, you lost on purpose, right?" Naruto suddenly asked.

Shuo Ye stopped and looked at Naruto.

Naruto tilted his head, looking completely innocent.

"I saw it! Your foot slipped! But all your moves before that were fine, so why did you suddenly slip?"

Shuo Ye was silent for a second.

Then he said, "Bad shoes. The soles are too slippery."

"Oh." Naruto believed him. Or perhaps he simply did not press further. Seven-year-old Naruto had not yet learned how to doubt what a friend said.

The two continued down the street.

The sunset stretched their shadows long, two silhouettes moving slowly across the ground, one ahead of the other.

With his hand in his pocket, Shuo Ye felt the folded score sheet.

"Has potential, but does not work hard enough."

Iruka-sensei was right, he thought.

He really had not worked hard.

Not because he was lazy. But because—at this point in time, staying unnoticed was the best kind of effort.