Chương 22: CH_1.22 (022):

Another day rolled in, and like every morning, Takuma found himself in the middle of the field, sitting on the ground, doing the post-training stretches so he could leave the training session and return to get his day started.

"You seem down, young Takuma," Maruboshi, performing the same stretches by the side, asked. Takuma pursed his lips into a line.

"I... I think it'd be better to practice the hand seal combination of two seals before trying to learn Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu)." Maruboshi looked surprised. Takuma stretched his torso forward to grab the sole of his outstretched feet with his hands. He repeatedly knocked his forehead on his shin with an inaudible groaning. It had been a few days since Takuma had begun learning the Henge no Jutsu. Every morning, Maruboshi would set out a quarter of an hour in their time to guide him on the jutsu.

Throughout the day, Takuma would try to cast the jutsu in his free time and during the scheduled period during his evening training. But no matter how many times he tried, the chakra rattled out of his control, failing the jutsu invocation. He couldn't understand. After learning the Bunshin no Jutsu (Clone Jutsu) in three tries, why was Henge no Jutsu taking so much time— he couldn't even get past the first hand seal! It looked like he had lucked out by making clones. A horrifying thought appeared in Takuma's mind.

What if Bunshin no Jutsu was to him what Kage Bunshin no Jutsu (Shadow Clone Jutsu) was to Naruto? The blonde protagonist had learned the highly advanced jutsu quickly, clearly showing an affinity with the jutsu. What if Takuma's special affinity was associated with Bunshin no Jutsu, a useless jutsu that couldn't even be used in the field. Takuma felt sick in the stomach.

"You must not feel down about the jutsu," Maruboshi said with a kind smile.

"It took your classmates much longer than you to perform the Henge no Jutsu than you have been trying. You will be able to perform it one day."

"My classmates were eight-years-old; I'm almost eleven; I should learn the jutsu faster than them." It had taken him seven months, but he had covered nearly four years of academy theoretical material— why should learning jutsu be any different? Takuma got up and half-heartedly dusted himself.

"I will go. Thanks for today," he said to Maruboshi before heading out to the training field. On the way home, Takuma began thinking about the graduation test; the first attempt was in less than two weeks. Thinking about taking the exam made Takuma's body feel heavy. According to the chatter he had heard from his classmates' conversation, the test was divided into two parts— a theoretical and a practical portion. Both portions were divided into sub-parts.

The theoretical portion consisted of a standard pen-and-paper test and a face-to-face oral viva-voce with an invigilator. The practical portion was made up of a taijutsu spar, a weapon handling part, a demonstration of the academy three, and a miscellaneous part in which the invigilator could ask anything that hadn't been asked. There wasn't a single part of the test he felt he could perform well. He still had one year of academic material left that set him back in the pen-and-paper test.

There was nothing to be said about his taijutsu skills, his shurikenjutsu had exceeded the passable grade- but they were nothing spectacular, Bunshin no Jutsu was the only academy three he could perform. He could only hope that he would luck out in the viva-voce questioning and the miscellaneous portion of the practical portion, and the invigilator would ask him something he knew. Takuma sighed. He didn't have high hopes for his luck helping him; fates hadn't been good to him in a while. ———.

In the academy classroom, Takuma tapped the back of the pencil against his desk. His time in the academy was dedicated to learning the theoretical material so that he could focus on practical skills after school hours. But today, he couldn't concentrate; the thought of opening the book seemed like a massive downer.' Ugh, what don't they understand by: silence in the classroom?' Takuma frowned deeply, and his pencil tapping became more forceful. He preferred background noise to pin-drop silence during studying.

It helped him concentrate; he regularly used the classroom whispers and Kibe's voice as his background noise. He welcomed them. But today, they seem unbearable to listen to, stroking the fire of irritation he felt. There was only one time in the militant drill sergeant-like Kibe's lessons that the class dared to talk above whispers. Takuma didn't have to open his eyes to know that Kibe was in front of the classroom, personally guiding one of his classmates with either Henge no Jutsu or Bunshin no Jutsu.

Every day, Kibe would call some of his students, one at a time, and ask them to demonstrate one of the academy three. The demonstration would be followed by a guidance session with Kibe pointing out the discrepancies and providing possible tips.' Nothing to do with me,' Takuma thought as bitterness grabbed him. Kibe had stopped calling him long ago; after numerous times failing to even produce a faulty clone or transformation, it seemed Kibe had given up.

He was delighted when he realized he wasn't being called anymore. He didn't have to embarrass himself in front of the entire classroom anymore, Takuma had thought with delight. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. But now... Takuma clicked his tongue. Now that he could mold chakra and even perfectly perform the Bunshin no Jutsu, the sweet delight had turned into burning bile.

The realization that he had been given up on and deemed a failure and lost cause brought feelings up from deep within.

"Sensei," an annoying voice cut through the chit chat, "you haven't called Takuma up in months. Why is that?" Takuma's eyes snapped open, and he lifted his chin from his palm to look around the class to find the source of the voice. He knew who it was before he found Hiji sitting on the other side of the classroom with his posse of friends on the backbenches. The Inuzuka boy smirked at Takuma, showing he knew exactly what he was doing. Takuma clenched his jaw but kept his expression schooled. I'm unaffected.

He repeated the words like a chant in his mind. He couldn't give Hiji the satisfaction of getting any sort of reaction out of him.

"Oh, shut up, Hiji! Do you have no shame?" another voice sounded from another part of the classroom. Takuma turned to the front of the classroom and saw a brunette girl with shoulder-length cinnamon-brown hair staring up at Hiji with a frown. Okubo Momoe. Takuma recognized the girl, and his eyes narrowed when he felt a sense of green jealousy burn inside him. He flexed his neck and tensed his body until an intense wave of jealousy passed through him. He let out a deep breath as he relaxed his body.

He held no strong feelings towards Okubo Momoe— but the same couldn't be said about the ' boy,' the original Takuma. After living in the body for half a year, he realized that even though the boy hadn't left behind his memories, he had left something else behind. Takuma had recognized Kibe when he had found himself in the boy; he had found his way home the same day— and similarly, some things brought up the remnants in the form of emotions/sentiments. Momoe invoked the boy's sharp sense of jealousy.

After observing the girl for a week or so, Takuma deduced the reason behind the sentiment. Among their peers, Momoe placed at the top in terms of academic scores and practical shinobi skills— no matter what it was, from ninjutsu to strategy, Momoe was good at literally everything— a true overachiever, the perfect shinobi candidate.

She wasn't as good as Uchiha Izumi when it came to taijutsu or had the chakra control rivaling Inuzuka Hana or raw power compared to Akimichi Hideaki— but whatever it was, if she wasn't number one, she was number two. And at least number two in everything was much more competent than number one at one thing. She had a natural charisma that attracted people to her, and when combined with her skills, it was only natural that she sat on the top of the social ladder.

On top of that, Okubo Momoe came from a civilian background, with her parents owning a business in Leaf village— her detractors couldn't even point out that her skills were cultivated with the help of a shinobi clan.' She's everything the boy isn't,' was Takuma's theory behind the feeling of jealousy. The boy was a poor student; Momoe could seemingly do everything. The boy had no friends; Momoe was surrounded by people who wanted to be her friends. The boy was ignored; Momoe was praised.

The boy would return home to nobody waiting for him; Momoe would be greeted by a complete family back home.

"What, I was just—""We know what you're doing, so stop it, you jerk." Momoe turned to the other Inuzuka in the class and said, "Control your rabid brother, Hana." Hana narrowed her eyes.

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it if I don't?" Her three ash-gray ninken jumped up on the table, staring at Momoe. Hiji snorted in laughter, looking confident with his cousin supporting him.

"Know your place, Okube," he said.

"Oh, shut your trap, Hiji," Hana glared at Hiji. Izumi sitting beside Hana looked at the quarreling parties and tried to abate the situation.

"Let's not fight, okay? We can talk about this calmly," she said. But Momoe was already exchanging words with Hiji and Hana. Takuma observed the situation from his seat. Momoe and the Inuzukas were now fighting with each other, forgetting that he was the initial subject of the discussion, which Takuma preferred. But it seemed not everyone had forgotten about it.

"Takuma, come up," Kibe sighed. Takuma could feel the eyes following him as he walked down the classroom steps toward the front. He looked up at Kibe, who had only called him up because he was called out by Hiji. Takuma could see Kibe didn't want to do this, and seeing that look, he felt his mood sour more than before.

"Show me Bushin no Jutsu," Kibe said, his tone giving the impression he wanted to get this over as soon as possible. Takuma raised a brow. Was luck finally going his way? He straightened up and joined his hands to form the hand seals for the Bunshin no Jutsu. Ram — Snake — Tiger Poof! The smoke cleared, and two clone-Takuma stood alongside the real Takuma. The raucous laughter from Hiji abruptly stopped as the entire classroom went silent.

Every pair of eyes were focused on the three Takuma standing in front of the classroom. Takuma could practically hear their thoughts: The only person in the room who couldn't do a jutsu to save his life now had two clones standing with him. Kibe stared at Takuma and clones with his eyes wide in surprise. Several seconds passed in silence between Kibe and Takuma as they stared at each other.

"Can I go back now?" Takuma asked. Kibe's eyes widened more. He was looking at the Takuma who stood nearest to him, but the Takuma who had spoken now was the one standing the furthest to him. He reached out his hand to the Takuma next to him, and it passed right through and when he clenched his fist, Takuma disappeared like he never existed. Kibe's eyes didn't move to the real Takuma who had spoken but to the other clone who remained. Takuma tilted his head, confused by the action.'

Maybe he's observing the quality of my clone,' he thought.

"You can go now," Kibe said. Takuma dispersed the clone and walked back to his seat. He kept his eyes straight ahead. He didn't look at Hiji or Momoe or Izumi or anyone. He sat down on his seat, took out his book, and started reading. Even though he was no longer irritated and not in the mood to study, he still couldn't concentrate on the words as his eyes cruised over the page. He was too busy keeping the smile off his face. Today's academy was fun, he felt.