The Clown Was Me?

Fujino Daikichi took a deep breath, cleared his mind of distractions, and called out the names of the two students.

"Kojun Miko versus Uekawa Yuto, begin!"

After forming the Seal of Opposition, the two launched into an intense taijutsu battle. The sharp smacks of flesh colliding echoed across the training ground.

Fujino Daikichi nodded slightly. At a stage when most students had yet to learn ninjutsu, combat mainly relied on taijutsu and shuriken throwing. Among civilian students, these two had fairly solid fundamentals.

Before long, Uekawa Yuto pressed a kunai to Kojun Miko's throat.

"Uekawa Yuto wins."

Fujino Daikichi nodded and announced the result of the assessment.

Hyuga Satoru watched quietly from the side. He did not know the exact extent of his own strength, but thinking back to his fight with Uchiha Rin the previous night...

Fujino Daikichi announced the next match.

"Hyuga Iroha versus Yamashiro Aoki."

At those words, a wave of commotion swept through the crowd.

"It's Iroha! Yamashiro Aoki is probably in for it."

"Yeah. He's a genuine Hyuga ninja, not some fraud that can be compared to him."

Yamashiro Aoki froze for a moment upon hearing his name, then could only steel himself and walk forward.

He had no hope whatsoever of defeating Hyuga Iroha. After all, within the class, Iroha was a second-tier genius surpassed only by Kakashi and Uchiha Rin.

Sure enough, the moment the fight began, Yamashiro Aoki was completely overwhelmed. With his Byakugan activated, Hyuga Iroha's attacks were tricky and vicious. One palm struck Yamashiro Aoki in the chest, sending him flying backward.

"Is that the Gentle Fist? That's amazing!"

"Yeah! You couldn't even see it clearly—he defeated his opponent in an instant!"

Struggling to climb to his feet, Yamashiro Aoki felt a sharp pain in his chest. The flow of chakra through his body had become stiff and sluggish.

"So this is the power of the Gentle Fist?"

He clutched his chest, panting as he stared at Iroha in shock. He had known he would lose, but this had been far too fast.

"Of course." Iroha clearly enjoyed the reaction. He raised his chin slightly. "The strength of the Gentle Fist is beyond doubt. Even within the Hyuga Clan, not just anyone can master it."

Sensing the implication in Iroha's words, Hyuga Satoru raised an eyebrow disdainfully. At this stage, Iroha's Byakugan and Gentle Fist did indeed give him a major advantage against ordinary ninjas.

But later on, the flaws of both the Gentle Fist and the Byakugan would become painfully apparent. Their ceiling was too low. The Sharingan had Gundams, while plenty of other Bloodline Limits possessed the power to contend with Kage.

Only the Gentle Fist was neither exceptional nor terrible.

Was it strong?

It was.

But that was all.

The key was that the Hyuga Clan was stubbornly conservative, rigidly adhering to tradition and never innovating or developing new abilities. Such a massive Hyuga Clan could not produce even a single Kage-level powerhouse!

That was also why Hyuga Satoru disliked having too much contact with clan ninjas. The path he intended to take was destined to differ from that of the Hyuga.

Fujino Daikichi called out several more names in succession. Hyuga Satoru watched Kakashi's fight—smooth and flowing, he defeated his opponent cleanly with taijutsu alone, even more impressively than Iroha.

No wonder he was the number-one genius of this generation.

Hyuga Satoru praised him inwardly. Under Hatake Sakumo's guidance, Kakashi had already left his peers far behind.

"Taking Kakashi's current chakra reserves as one unit, mine are probably around 1.2 Kakashi units. My vigorous bio-magnetic field gives me quite an advantage in chakra reserves."

Just as Hyuga Satoru was thinking, a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Hyuga Satoru versus Hyuga Iroha!"

Hyuga Satoru looked up to see Iroha staring at him coldly.

"Wow! It's a fight between two Hyuga. This is going to be good."

"Who do you think will win?"

"Obviously Iroha! Hyuga Satoru slacks off all day. No one has ever seen him take anything seriously. How could he possibly beat Iroha?"

Beside him, Anko anxiously tugged at Hyuga Satoru's sleeve.

"Hey, Satoru, don't stubbornly hold on just to save face. If you can't beat him, surrender. That's not embarrassing—getting hurt is."

Hyuga Satoru rolled his eyes at her.

"You have that little faith in me?"

Within the crowd, a sharp glint flashed through Uchiha Rin's eyes as she fixed her gaze firmly on Hyuga Satoru.

Unlike the others who were jeering, she knew that Hyuga Satoru had been hiding his true abilities all along!

The two stepped onto the training ground and formed the Seal of Opposition.

Hyuga Iroha's expression was unpleasant. "Hyuga Satoru, if I remember correctly, you've never gone to the clan training grounds to practice the Gentle Fist. I'll show you what the Hyuga—"

"You'll know once we fight." Hyuga Satoru cut him off directly.

Iroha's face darkened as he formed hand seals and shouted, "Byakugan, activate!"

Vein-like bulges rose viciously around his eyes as his pale pupils locked onto Hyuga Satoru.

"You're not going to activate your Byakugan?"

"No need."

Hyuga Satoru shrugged.

"Arrogant!"

Iroha struck with a palm carrying a fierce gust of wind, his expression grim.

Hyuga Satoru merely shifted lightly to the side and avoided the attack.

"Luck?" Iroha frowned.

He threw another palm strike, even sharper than before. Yet to Iroha's surprise, he had struck nothing but air again.

"How are you so fast?"

Iroha asked in shock.

No matter how slow he was, he had realized that Hyuga Satoru had dodged his attacks solely through his body's reaction speed.

"Not bad, right?" Hyuga Satoru said.

His daily slacking-off-and-mining training had already pushed his physical abilities far beyond those of his peers. While dodging, he had also used electric currents to stimulate his muscles into rapid contraction.

To his eyes, Iroha's attacks looked like they were playing in slow motion.

The disdain in Iroha's eyes vanished, replaced by gravity. Hyuga Iroha said in a low voice, "Hyuga Satoru, I admit you've surprised me quite a bit. But can you still dodge this next move?"

"Oh?" Hyuga Satoru raised an eyebrow.

"Gentle Fist... Eight Trigrams... Thirty-Two Palms!"

Assuming a strange stance, Iroha's momentum surged as his hands attacked in a frenzied, flowing stream.

Quickly shifting aside to evade Iroha's assault, Hyuga Satoru showed a trace of surprise. Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms was generally something only Genin could master. From that perspective, Iroha, who had been little more than a background character in the original story, could be considered a genius.

After all, by the time he met the protagonist in the original story, he had already become a Jonin. There were no mediocre ninjas among Leaf Village's Jonin. Having thought it through, Hyuga Satoru gave a word of praise.

"Not bad."

That faint praise seemed to explode in Iroha's ears. His face flushed red as he gritted his teeth slightly in the midst of his attack.

"Damn it... You dare humiliate me!"

Though furious, he was powerless to do anything about it. Barely maintaining Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms was already his limit. Once he finished this Gentle Fist sequence, his stamina would likely be completely depleted.

Yet if he stopped attacking now, he would inevitably expose an opening for Hyuga Satoru to exploit.

He had thought this move would let him crush Hyuga Satoru cleanly and decisively. Instead, he had trapped himself in an impossible situation.

After dodging another incoming Gentle Fist strike, Hyuga Satoru shifted slightly. Lightning flickered across his right palm before it stamped onto Iroha's chest with lightning speed.

Blue electrical arcs burst outward from the point of contact. With a dull boom, Iroha's body flew backward like a kite with its string cut.

Dead silence.

Anko was stunned.

A glint flashed through Uchiha Rin's eyes. Was that the move?

It was as though she had returned to that night, when Hyuga Satoru's palm had struck her chest and sent her plunging into the freezing waters of the Naka River.

Fujino Daikichi's mouth hung open wide enough to swallow an orange.

Iroha struggled to prop himself up. His chest throbbed with lightning-like pain, while his muscles spasmed and trembled uncontrollably from numbness.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, glared fiercely at Hyuga Satoru, and gritted out the words.

"Damn it! So you were acting all along?!"

He had never imagined that the clansman he had always looked down on was actually far stronger than him!

Just in the previous match, he had bragged so boldly. Now it felt like a resounding slap across his face.

The clown was me?