Aoba was completely speechless.
Who would have thought that Kurenai was such an academic deadweight in her childhood?
She had seemed to listen so attentively in class, but it turned out she was just daydreaming the whole time.
The very first test at the Academy had left her utterly bewildered.
Seeing the little girl on the verge of tears, Aoba had felt he had no choice but to let her copy his answers.
Fearing she wouldn’t be able to read subtle hand signs, he had decided to test out a little genjutsu trick: projecting the answers directly to her mind as an illusion.
The experiment had been a resounding success.
Except Kurenai hadn’t held back in the slightest—she copied every single word.
Aoba was left utterly dumbfounded.
The *Will of Fire* exam was primarily theoretical, much like a literature essay.
But who copies the essay portion word-for-word on an exam?
How was that any different from blowing yourself up?
Aoba had anticipated several possible outcomes: a public reprimand, a retake, or a flat zero.
The one thing he hadn’t anticipated was the Third Hokage tattling to their parents.
*That old geezer Sarutobi really plays dirty.*
Aoba maintained impeccable posture, displaying an extraordinarily contrite attitude.
Kurenai, on the other hand, was entirely unrepentant, fiercely arguing her case with all manner of twisted logic.
Looking at his rebellious little daughter, who rattled off one absurd excuse after another, Shinku found himself unable to hit or scold her.
Taking on an S-rank mission wouldn’t have been half this exhausting.
“But Father, isn’t gathering intelligence a fundamental ninja skill?” Kurenai asked, blinking her big, luminous eyes up at him.
Shinku took a deep breath, trying his best to maintain his fatherly dignity.
Just as he opened his mouth to lecture her, he realized something wasn’t right.
They had only just entered the Academy; intelligence gathering was a topic reserved for upperclassmen.
His expression shifted immediately.
“Kurenai, tell your father…
who taught you to say that?”
“Aoba-niisan did!”
Seeing her father return to his usual gentle demeanor, Kurenai’s tension melted away.
Pointing straight at Aoba, she sold him out without a second thought.
*I’m done for!*
The moment Shinku’s tone had shifted, Aoba knew disaster had struck.
Sure enough, under the tender care of paternal love, Kurenai spilled the entire story in one breath, cleanly confessing even how Aoba had coached her to align their stories.
Seated formally on the floor, Aoba broke into a cold sweat.
“Okay, Father.
Next time I copy, I’ll be careful not to copy everything…”
“…”
Shinku took a deep breath.
“Er, Kurenai…
for the next Academy exam, you need to rely on your own strength.
You can’t depend on others anymore.
If you get a good grade on your own, I’ll teach you a powerful ninjutsu.”
“Deal!
B-But what if I don’t know the answers?”
“It’s fine.
As long as you try your best.
Hang in there—Father believes in you.”
Bathed in paternal encouragement, Kurenai’s fighting spirit was ignited, and she beamed with newfound confidence.
“All right.
Kurenai, head outside for a moment.
Father needs to have a private word with Aoba.”
Once Kurenai was sent out, the room plunged into dead silence.
“U-Uncle Shinku, please listen to my excuse—wait, no, let me explain…” Aoba hurriedly spoke up, sensing imminent doom.
“Aoba.
That’s twice now!”
Shinku stepped toward him with a completely expressionless face, yet the deep resentment in his eyes was practically overflowing.
“Even Buddha only has patience for three offenses!
If I get recalled in the middle of a mission because of you one more time, I will personally decide your cause of death.
Got it?”
“Understood, fully understood!
I swear it!”
Sensing the faint, chilling killing intent wafting off Shinku, Aoba swallowed hard and raised his hand in a solemn vow.
“I know Araki’s capabilities well.
Even though his injuries…
*cough*.
Being able to pull off cheating right under his nose is admittedly impressive.”
“However, Aoba, you possess exceptional talent as a shinobi.
You can’t stay by Kurenai’s side forever.
Now that you’ve entered the Academy, you’ll both eventually have to stand on your own two feet.
Stumbling and facing setbacks at the Academy is far better than making mistakes on a mission or on the battlefield.”
“I understand.
I was wrong, Uncle Shinku!”
“Good.
We’ll consider the matter settled.” Shinku sat back down at the table and took a light sip from his teacup.
“[Demonic Illusion・Hell Viewing Technique] works by using chakra to interfere with the target’s nervous system, forcibly triggering and projecting deep-seated memories of fear from the brain.
The victim becomes trapped in an illusion of what they fear most.
That, however, is merely its basic application; a true genjutsu master can even alter the projected illusion.”
“The fact that you were able to transmit imagery to Kurenai proves you’ve already grasped the core essence of this technique.
Today, I’ll teach you another one.”
With that, Shinku simply raised his left hand and formed a few hand seals.
Dark shadows swelled and twisted into grotesque shapes throughout the room.
*One-handed seals!*
Aoba’s eyes lit up.
*As expected of a jonin.*
Sweeping his gaze around, he immediately recognized what it was.
Terrifying black human silhouettes emerged continuously from every corner of the room, radiating a chilling, oppressive aura.
Had he not known beforehand that this was genjutsu, Aoba might have thought some supernatural monstrosity was waking up.
In terms of aesthetic, it was easily on par with the horror films of his past life.
[Mist Servant Technique].
The hardest part of this genjutsu was actually for the caster to overcome their own fear of the phantoms, blending into the illusions to launch attacks.
Many beginners who attempted to learn this jutsu ended up terrifying themselves with the very shadows they summoned.
Seeing that Aoba wasn’t frightened in the least, Shinku nodded approvingly in secret and began explaining the jutsu in detail.
Aoba listened with rapt attention.
With the assistance of his auxiliary chip, he mastered the technique in under half an hour.
“[Genjutsu・Mist Servant Technique]!”
Aoba formed seals with both hands.
A dark silhouette slowly rose from behind him, followed by three or four more shadows emerging from his surroundings.
Shinku surveyed the phantoms and gave an appreciative nod.
“All right, I won’t say more.
Mastery and practical application are two different things.
The ultimate goal of every technique is to secure victory in battle.”
“Thank you very much for your guidance!”
…
*Riiing—*
With the ringing of the bell, a new day of classes at the Ninja Academy officially began.
Not long after Teacher Ishihara walked into the classroom, hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway outside.
As a staple of the morning routine, the class had already grown accustomed to it.
A student named Inoue, sitting near the door, even thoughtfully slid the door open just as the footsteps neared.
“Huh?
*Aaaaaah—!*”
Unable to brake in time, a figure made intimate contact with the wooden floorboards.
“You’re late again, Obito~ Uchiha,” Araki Ishihara said, shaking his head with an exasperated sigh.
“*Moushiwake arimasen*, Sensei!” Obito scrambled to his feet to apologize.
“I was helping an old lady—”
“All right, Obito, no need to explain.
You helped an old lady for twenty-one days last month.
Standard rules apply: stay behind after school to clean the classroom with the rest of the duty squad.”
“Now, go to your seat.”
“A-All right…” Looking utterly defeated, Obito slouched back to his desk.
“Good morning, Obito!” a gentle voice greeted him.
“M-Morning, Rin.” Obito flushed slightly with embarrassment, hating that Rin Nohara always had to see him in such an uncool state.
“Do your best today as well, Obito!
Also, it’s my turn on cleaning duty today.”
“Wait, really?!
You’re on cleaning duty today, Rin?” Obito perked up instantly, a goofy grin spreading across his face.