“Kazama, you’re amazing!
You’ve practiced throwing kunai before, right?
You already knew how to do this, didn’t you?” Kurenai looked at Kazama with open admiration.
Unlike Obito Uchiha, Kazama had gone through one throwing technique after another without becoming short of breath.
Only a faint trace of sweat had appeared on the tip of his nose.
It was obvious that Kazama’s stamina was far superior to Obito’s.
In fact, among everyone in the class, Kazama’s stamina was probably the best.
Even Kakashi couldn’t compare with him in that regard.
Hearing Kurenai’s question, Kazama merely shrugged.
“Maybe.” He neither admitted it nor denied it.
But after spending so much time with him, Kurenai understood Kazama well enough to know that he really hadn’t learned these kunai-throwing techniques before.
The jōnin instructor, Obito, Kakashi, and several others could also tell.
At the beginning, Kazama genuinely hadn’t known how to throw kunai properly.
He had learned everything in an absurdly short amount of time.
A monster.
A genius.
Those were the only words that could describe him.
Obito was still breathing slightly heavily.
He had deliberately used increasingly difficult Uchiha throwing techniques toward the end, yet Kazama had only needed to watch them once before reproducing them.
“How did you do that?” Obito stared at Kazama in confusion.
If Kazama truly had only started learning kunai throwing today, then what had just happened was ridiculous.
One of the advanced techniques Obito had demonstrated involved throwing two successive volleys of kunai, with the second volley striking the first in midair and changing their trajectories so that they hit multiple targets.
Obito had managed to hit every target, though some of the kunai had missed the bullseyes.
That alone was already impressive.
Yet Kazama had watched it once— and copied it immediately.
Worse still, he had surpassed Obito, with every kunai landing directly in the center.
Obito had practiced that technique hundreds—perhaps even thousands—of times before reaching his current level.
And even now, he couldn’t guarantee that every throw would hit the bullseye.
Kazama had supposedly learned it today.
Watched it once.
Copied it.
And hit every bullseye.
If that were really true, Obito felt as though the last two years of his training had been completely wasted.
“For me, anything I read or any movement I see once can be remembered perfectly,” Kazama replied calmly.
“But even then…” Obito still couldn’t accept it.
Even with perfect memory, how could Kazama copy an advanced Uchiha throwing technique on the same day he first learned how to throw kunai— and perform it better than someone who had practiced it hundreds of times?
“I wasn’t finished.” Kazama calmly extended one arm.
He was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt, so his arm was clearly visible.
Everyone’s attention turned toward him.
Even Kakashi and the jōnin instructor watched with interest.
They were curious too.
How exactly had Kazama accomplished it?
Then— Kazama’s arm moved.
No.
His arm itself didn’t move.
The muscles beneath his skin did.
The muscles shifted in an almost bizarre pattern.
At one moment, they rippled one after another like waves across water.
The next, they tightened and aligned with astonishing precision, almost like soldiers standing in formation.
Everyone around him stared with their mouths open.
An arm could actually do that?
“I can control every muscle and bone in my body.” Kazama spoke calmly.
“My control over my strength and body is at a level most of you probably won’t reach even after an entire lifetime.” “So when you practice throwing kunai, you need hundreds or thousands of repetitions to find the correct strength, trajectory, and angle.” “I don’t.” “Once I understand the movement, I can reproduce it directly.” “Genius!” The jōnin instructor blurted out the word before he could stop himself.
Obito also fell silent.
He sighed but couldn’t find anything to argue against.
This was pure talent.
Exactly as Kazama had said— most people could spend their entire lives training and still never develop that degree of control over their bodies.
Across all of Konoha, there probably weren’t even five people capable of controlling both their bodies and strength with such precision.
And that was already being generous.
Tsunade might possess incredibly refined chakra and strength control, perhaps enough to rival Kazama in some respects.
But when it came to consciously controlling every individual muscle and bone in the body, even she might fall slightly short.
As for Orochimaru… Perhaps he could do something similar.
After all, he was exactly the sort of person who might develop bizarre techniques involving extreme bodily flexibility.
Afterward, everyone resumed practicing their kunai-throwing techniques.
Kazama began helping Kurenai.
Before long, several other students gathered around and asked him for guidance as well.
Kazama was practically becoming more popular than the actual jōnin instructor.
The instructor merely shook his head with a smile.
He walked off to the side, sat down, and watched the students practice.
Kazama had effectively replaced him as the temporary “teacher.” Of course, Kazama focused most of his attention on Kurenai, Shizune, Rin, and the other girls.
“Thank you!” When the kunai lesson ended, several girls whom Kazama had helped came over to thank him.
They felt that Kazama was actually quite good at explaining things.
At the very least, learning from someone their own age was much less stressful than being corrected by a jōnin instructor.
After that came free activity time.
Some students immediately rested.
Others continued practicing kunai throwing.
A few moved on to completely different exercises.
Geppo wasn’t something Kurenai could openly practice here, so she continued working on kunai throwing instead.
Kazama stood nearby, occasionally correcting her technique.
Shizune and Rin were practicing as well, and Kazama gave them a few pointers from time to time.
Meanwhile, Obito, the Hyūga students, Asuma Sarutobi, Guy, and several others had already moved on to their own training.
“Kazama.” While Kazama was leisurely guiding several girls through their kunai practice, a cold voice suddenly came from behind him.
He didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.
There was only one person in the class who spoke with that kind of icy tone.
Kazama turned and narrowed his eyes slightly at Kakashi.
“What is it?” “Do the words you said before still count?” Kakashi stared at him.
Half his face was hidden behind his mask, and his expression was impossible to read beneath his cold eyes.
“What words?” Kazama looked at him curiously.
As far as he remembered, he had barely spoken to Kakashi at all.
The guy was like a block of ice.
The moment class ended, he vanished—probably to practice swordsmanship.
Kazama had never really had the chance to talk to him.
Kakashi answered coldly, “You said during your introduction that your hobby was competing against strong people.” “And that anyone who thought they were strong enough could challenge you.” “Does that still count?” “You want to fight me?” Kazama immediately understood.
He nodded.
He really had said that during his introduction.
In fact, those words had been aimed largely at Kakashi in the first place.
“Where?” Kazama asked directly.
“The rooftop.” Kakashi’s answer was immediate.