What was a genius?
In Guy’s view, the Uchiha didn’t really count.
They just had better birth, a better environment to learn in.
By comparison, a commoner trying to become a genius shinobi faced a much steeper climb.
That was why he admired Jiraiya and the Fourth Hokage so much.
And now—
“Lord Third, the boy can’t manage nature transformation or genjutsu, but he worked out something close to the Rasengan entirely on his own.”
“He’s a different kind of genius!”
Guy stood in the office, reporting to the Third Hokage with unmistakable excitement.
Hiruzen held a sheet of information in one hand and took a pull from his pipe before speaking.
“And his taijutsu?”
“His command of his own body, his muscles, his strength—it’s even sharper than Lee’s.” Guy laid out what he’d observed.
“I’d originally planned to take him onto my own team after graduation, but honestly, at this point, putting him under me would be a waste of his potential.”
Hiruzen fell quiet.
The sheet in his hand carried the Academy’s evaluation.
Yanagyū Chiba.
Chakra control: top of the class.
Academic marks: first.
Taijutsu: first.
Kunai throwing: first.
Ninjutsu, however, was another matter—he couldn’t even manage the three basic Academy techniques.
Genjutsu release came easily to him, but casting genjutsu of his own was just as far out of reach.
And yet.
Working out something like the Rasengan on his own spoke to creativity of a rare order.
There was no question about it.
Chiba was a genuine prodigy.
“Lord Third—”
“Let me meet him first.
I’ll decide after that.”
Hiruzen thought it over for a long while before finally settling on an answer.
He wanted to see this unusual prodigy for himself.
“Today’s throwing test—Chiba and Tenten tied for first.
The rest of you have some catching up to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
The others answered without much enthusiasm.
Tenten clenched her fists, then let out a resigned sigh anyway.
Ever since this boy’s results had started climbing sharply a year ago, she’d slowly gone from “first in throwing” to “tied for first,” and by now she’d more or less gotten used to it.
But.
Kunai throwing wasn’t even his only strength.
Set ninjutsu and genjutsu aside, and he was practically all-around—every teacher at the Academy who talked about him gave the same thumbs-up, followed by the same long sigh.
She felt for Chiba too.
Though the boy himself never seemed to care one way or another.
“Chiba, want to practice throwing together?”
“Sure—ah, sorry, might have to wait a bit.”
Chiba had been about to pair up with Tenten when he spotted a teacher waving him over from a distance, apparently wanting him for something.
He gave Tenten an apologetic wave and jogged off.
His teacher’s name was Mizuki.
Setting aside everything that would come later, Mizuki was actually a decent instructor when it came to kunai throwing and basic ninjutsu.
As a shinobi overall, though—well, he was what he was.
“Sensei Mizuki, you needed me?”
“Not me.
Lord Hokage is here for an inspection today, and he specifically asked to see you.
Head to the conference room now.”
“Yes, sir!”
Chiba’s eyes lit up.
It worked!
Thank you, Sensei Guy!
He could barely contain himself—
This had to be Guy’s doing.
In the blink of an eye, Chiba had already vanished from where he stood.
“Lucky.”
“That’s Chiba for you.
Even Lord Third wants to meet him.”
“Man.
That’s what being a genius gets you.”
“Genius?
He still can’t use a single ninjutsu.”
“…”
Lee glanced around at them, shook his head slightly, and got up to go running.
Genius?
None of them had any idea how much effort Chiba had poured into getting where he was.
All they saw was the polish on the surface, and then they used the word “genius” to erase every drop of sweat behind it.
Outside the conference room, Chiba knocked lightly.
“Lord Hokage.”
“Mm, door’s unlocked.
Come in.”
“Yes, sir!”
He stepped inside.
Hiruzen sat with a stack of documents in hand, reading through them with evident interest.
Once Chiba had entered, the old man looked up and smiled.
“I’ve been going over your records.
These past two years, on top of your training, you’ve been spending a lot of time at the library, haven’t you?”
“Yes.
Since I don’t have any talent for ninjutsu, I started thinking about ways to build techniques that don’t need nature transformation.
But the more I looked into it, the more I realized that developing a technique from scratch takes an enormous amount of knowledge.”
“That’s true enough.
No technique comes together in a single leap.”
Hiruzen nodded, approving.
It was right around this stretch of time that Chiba’s grades across the board had started climbing.
He knew it well—plenty of kids at the Academy treated their academic coursework as beneath their notice, which made someone like Chiba all the more rare.
A pity, though…
Such a gifted child, and he simply couldn’t manage nature transformation.
Hiruzen shook his head and let out a quiet sigh before continuing.
“Guy tells me you invented a technique of your own?”
“Ah—I wouldn’t quite call it my own invention.
It seems to overlap with Lord Fourth’s.
And at first I’d only worked out the whirlpool-style reinforcement—I hadn’t thought of layering in turbulence from multiple directions.”
Chiba demonstrated it step by step as he spoke, the same way he had for Might Guy the day before.
Hiruzen watched closely, then said with a smile, “Your approach, your process—none of it matches Minato’s.
You had no idea the technique already existed going in.
What would you call that, if not inventing it yourself?
No need for modesty.
Today, just think of me as a teacher, nothing more.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any other ideas?”
“I think shape transformation and density compression both still have a great deal of room to grow.
Compared to ordinary ninjutsu, they don’t require hand seals, and combined with taijutsu, the resulting power isn’t weak at all.”
Chiba spoke without hesitation.
This was an interview, in every sense that mattered—whatever happened next would ride on how he did right now.
Hiruzen nodded in agreement, then, after a moment, smiled again.
“Techniques of that kind were explored by earlier generations too, you know.
But interest in them faded over time, for a simple reason—compared to untyped ninjutsu, adding nature transformation is simply stronger.”
“…”
Chiba fell silent.
He had no argument against that.
Even the Rasengan itself was, by its own design, an unfinished technique.
In Minato’s original conception, its ultimate form was meant to incorporate chakra nature transformation.
“Someone like you and Lee—you’re the exception, not the rule.
For most people, ninjutsu is simply the fastest, easiest path forward.”
“That’s true.
It just happens I can’t take it.”
Chiba didn’t try to deny it.
“Exactly—it just happens you can’t.
If you could, you’d never have bothered thinking any of this through.
Most original techniques only ever get invented by someone backed into a corner.” Hiruzen chuckled a few times, then narrowed his eyes.
“Guy has no head for ninjutsu.
If you showed him the Rasengan, I imagine you had something you wanted in return.”
“There’s not much more the Academy can teach me at this point.
I’d like to graduate early, and after that, study at the medical division to learn about the body.”
Chiba said it plainly, without hedging.
“You want to learn medical ninjutsu?”
“No—I just want to understand the structure of the human body better.
The medical division and the hospital are the best places for that.
And if it’s possible, I’d also like to learn the chakra scalpel.”
Chiba made no attempt to hide his intentions.
There was no point in hiding them.
As a student of the Konoha Academy, he could simply state what he wanted outright—concealment would only make him look suspicious.
“Early graduation was done away with years ago.
But you don’t need early graduation just to study at the medical division—a special study arrangement will do just fine.” Hiruzen considered it for a moment.
“Here’s what we’ll do.
I’ll set you a formal genin-level evaluation covering everything except ninjutsu.
Pass it, and you have my approval.”
“Thank you so much!”
Chiba rose and bowed deeply.
An examination stood in his way, yes—but he trusted his own ability.
What worried him was rigid Academy instructors who wouldn’t give him a single opening.
This wasn’t that.