He slapped the whole pouch straight into Yoru’s palm.
“Consider me cursed for getting stuck with a deskmate like you!”
“There are six standard kunai inside — take three for yourself!”
“Don’t take them all, I’ve got to show off in front of Rin Nohara later too!”
Even while being punished out in the hallway, Obito had managed to pick out the sound of Rin Nohara’s self-introduction and learn her name.
Yoru took the ninja tool pouch in both hands.
*This guy’s alright — when he’s got the goods, he really hands them over.*
“Relax. Would I ever screw you over?”
Yoru grinned.
He turned around, putting his back to Obito.
The instant his back was to everyone, Yoru’s hands moved so fast they blurred.
There was a faint zipping sound.
Without hesitation, he dumped all six brand-new, genuine kunai out of Obito’s pouch and shoved them into his own pants pockets.
Then, with a single thought, a light flashed from his system inventory.
The three “Guaranteed-to-Miss Kunai” he’d pulled from the earlier ten-pull instantly appeared in his hands.
They looked ordinary enough, but their edges gave off an eerie black gleam.
No matter how precisely you aimed these things, they’d always dodge the target at some tricky angle.
That anti-common-sense little physics violation was perfect for wrecking an ordinary person’s composure.
*Oh, Obito, Obito — for the sake of my grand ambitions, you’ll just have to suffer a little.*
Yoru muttered it silently, and with a perfectly straight face, tucked the three eerie duds into Obito’s now-empty pouch.
He zipped it shut and smoothed it out.
The whole swap took less than two seconds.
Yoru drew a deep breath and slapped the pouch back onto Obito’s chest with a *thud.*
Gripping Obito’s shoulders with both hands, he offered heartfelt encouragement.
“Thanks, brother! Give it everything you’ve got in the test — I’ve got high hopes for you!”
Obito took the pouch and gave it a habitual shake; the weight felt right, three kunai left inside.
The silly boy had no idea the ordinary weapons in his pouch had been swapped for causality-defying cursed items.
He patted his chest and flashed back a bright, sunny smile.
“Goes without saying! Just watch me take first place today!”
“What’s that show-off Kakashi got on me? Rin Nohara’s going to be swept off her feet by my heroic figure!”
Yoru pressed down the smile tugging at his lips and said nothing.
The two walked side by side to rejoin the class, filing down the stairs toward the playground in one big group.
The walk wasn’t long, and the new students chattered excitedly about the coming test.
Might Guy squeezed through the crowd and sidled up close to Yoru.
The thick-browed boy clearly hadn’t recovered from the earlier blow, but he was still clinging to his youthful fighting spirit, fists clenched as he announced loudly:
“Uchiha Yoru! I lost our little war of words earlier!”
“But next is the real ninja tool test! I will absolutely not lose to you!”
Yoru didn’t even bother lifting his eyelids, staring at an ant by the roadside as he replied perfunctorily.
“Yeah, yeah, sure. You win.”
“By the way — is that green outfit of yours a onesie?”
“Do you have to peel it off from the collar every time you use the bathroom?”
Might Guy’s fired-up expression froze instantly.
His hands stalled in midair as a mortifying image of himself struggling in the bathroom rose unbidden in his mind; his face flushed red to the tips of his ears.
［Emotional Damage Points from Might Guy, +155!］
Hearing the points roll in, Yoru nodded, satisfied.
Up ahead, Kakashi Hatake tilted his head slightly and shot Yoru a cold glance, his dead-fish eyes brimming with open disgust.
As far as Kakashi was concerned, this guy had a foul mouth and zero logic — a walking, talking lunatic.
Yoru caught Kakashi’s look at once and, far from backing down, smoothly blew him a kiss across the distance.
Kakashi’s whole body went rigid, his stomach turning over, and he quickly faced forward and sped up to put some space between them.
［Emotional Damage Points from Kakashi Hatake, +50!］
Obito had no attention to spare for any of these little side dramas.
Rin Nohara was walking up ahead, and Obito stared intently at her back, lowering his voice.
“Yoru, do you think that if I hit the bullseye three times in a row later, Rin Nohara will come talk to me on her own?”
Yoru patted the six real kunai in his pocket and answered with a straight face.
“Be confident!”
“The moment you throw those ninja tools, every eye is going to be on you.”
“I guarantee it!”
Konoha Ninja Academy playground.
The sunlight was blinding, the air laced with the dry, astringent smell of parched earth.
The Chunin instructor stood at the head of the line, pointing at a row of wooden targets twenty-five meters out.
Each bullseye was marked with a red circle, with fake trees set around them as obstacles.
“The rules are simple,” the instructor announced loudly.
“Everyone gets three throws.”
“Bullseye is ten points, outer ring is five, and missing the target entirely is zero!”
Twenty-five meters was brutally far for six- and seven-year-old children.
The first group went up, the three students’ hands trembling around their kunai.
After a few crisp whistles of steel cutting the air —
“Miss!”
“Five points!”
“Miss! Are you throwing a kunai or a brick?!”
The instructor’s irritable voice carried across the playground.
More than a dozen students went up in a row, and the highest score was a measly five points.
Obito watched, sweating buckets, his confidence starting to leak away.
“Twenty-five meters is so far…” He swallowed hard.
Yoru stood off to the side behind him, his gaze fixed eerily on Obito’s swaying pouch as he spoke.
“What are you afraid of? You’re an Uchiha. A dinky twenty-five-meter target should be a piece of cake for you, no?”
The instant Obito heard the word “Uchiha,” his back snapped straight.
“Next — Kakashi Hatake!”
The instructor called out.
The whole field went silent at once.
Kakashi strolled to the throwing line, hands in his pockets.
He didn’t bother with a proper stance; he simply skimmed his right hand over his pouch.
Three black gleams flashed at his fingertips at the same moment.
With an utterly casual flick of the wrist, no wind-up at all — the three kunai carved tricky arcs through the air, clashed against one another, and — with a crisp ring — changed course.
*Thunk!
Thunk!
Thunk!*
All three struck the bullseyes of three separate targets, pinning them dead center.
The field held its breath for a beat, then erupted in gasps.
“Three perfect scores!”
The instructor’s voice was thrilled, and the girls broke into a chorus of screams.
Kakashi turned and walked back to the line, face cold.
As he passed Obito, he paused and left behind a faint remark: “Uchiha? Nothing special.”
Obito’s eyes went red on the spot.
That was practically tap-dancing on his landmine.
“Next — Rin Nohara!”
Rin walked up, cheeks pink.
She took a deep breath and threw three kunai; two missed, one stuck in the outer ring.
“Five points!”
Rin jogged back to the line and, passing Obito, gave him a polite little smile.
That smile hooked Obito’s soul clean out of his body; his blood surged, power roaring through him.
“Next — Uchiha Obito!”
Obito’s eyes blazed with fierce light.
He barked “Yes!” and strode out of the queue with a cocky, breezy swagger.
The whole class’s eyes were on him; Kakashi lifted his gaze a fraction, and Rin, too, glanced over with curiosity.
Yoru stood where he was, looking at the surrounding classmates the way a farmer eyes fields of lush leeks ripe for harvest.
The corners of his mouth slowly curled up, his breathing slowed, and his heart pounded harder despite himself.
The answer would be revealed any moment now — as long as the blind-test mechanism held, then someday the future of Konoha wouldn’t be the Hokage’s call to make.
At the throwing line, Obito drew a deep breath and struck his coolest side-on stance.
His gaze locked onto the bullseye; he’d already rehearsed the slick pose he’d strike right after he hit it.
His right hand went to his waist, unzipping the pouch with a *rrrip.*
Obito’s fingers found a kunai.
Without hesitation he grabbed one and — instantly — threw!
“Watch this!”
Obito roared, his right arm snapping forward with sudden force.
He hurled the first junk kunai — the one carrying the system’s causality-defying rule — with overwhelming momentum.