Shizuru nervously shuffled beside me, staring anxiously at the test area ahead, while Genta stood straight as a fence post, practically boring a hole through the list Daiken had just posted. Sena casually skimmed over the list, she turned back toward us with her trademark calm, yet unmistakably devious smile, like she already knew exactly what was coming.
"You're fifth," Sena told me cheerfully, tapping her chin like she was considering a chess move. "That's pretty good. You'll watch enough people fail and learn from their mistakes, but not so many that you'll get bored."
I raised an eyebrow, matching her casual attitude. "Since when have I ever learned from other people's mistakes? I prefer to make my own, thank you very much."
Genta chuckled nervously, while Shizuru sighed deeply. "That's exactly what worries me."
The first students began their tests, and we all leaned forward, elbowing each other subtly to get a better view. Immediately, we realized the course was way harder than we'd anticipated. Thick clusters of trees formed a confusing maze of narrow pathways, sudden slopes, hidden drops, and carefully concealed traps meant to test our chakra control, reaction speed, and quick thinking.
Our first runner, an Aburame kid, moved silently into the initial tree-walking area. He cautiously navigated vertically between the trunks, carefully measuring each step until suddenly, hidden launchers released a swarm of projectiles. He scrambled frantically, jumping toward another tree, shoving chakra into his feet to stick to it, and narrowly avoiding a humiliating tumble to the ground.
Genta winced visibly. "Those look really sharp."
Shizuru, going slightly pale, murmured softly, "Are those real kunai?"
Sena smiled without an ounce of sympathy and with a knowing smile. "Welcome to second-year finals."
I chuckled darkly, excitement bubbling up in my stomach. Watching the next students revealed even nastier surprises. Swinging logs sprang from nowhere, water pits were cleverly disguised as shallow puddles, and weak branches snapped instantly when stepped on. Clearly, the instructors had decided today's injuries would be strictly educational.
Daiken's sharp voice suddenly broke through my thoughts. "Noa, you're up."
Shizuru grabbed my arm tightly, whispering urgently, "Try not to get impaled."
"Like I'd be impaled that easily," I said with confidence, even though I was sweating bullets on the inside.
She huffed loudly as I moved to the starting line, steadying myself. Daiken nodded curtly, signaling the start.
Immediately, I poured chakra into my feet and raced forward, effortlessly scaling the first tree until clusters of fake explosive tags erupted around me. Instinctively, I leaped sideways in panic before realizing they were harmless just to be met with a few projectiles launched straight at my only escape route. I twisted mid-air, dropping my upper body just enough to barely dodge them while muttering to myself, "Clever jerks."
I calmed my breathing, quickly refocusing. Ahead was a winding path of narrow branches, simple enough. At least until my foot touched the first one, which immediately shattered, dropping me straight toward a hidden pit lined with spikes.
Pure instinct took control. I channeled chakra into my hands, grabbing a nearby vine and swinging clear just in time. Landing safely on the next solid branch, my heart pounded wildly. "Seriously, Daiken? A spike pit?"
Daiken's voice drifted back, dry and unamused. "Stay sharp."
Grumbling, I kept going with more caution this time, analyzing every surface before trusting it. The next stage was water-walking across what looked like a calm stream, but something felt off. I found out why almost instantly. Beneath the peaceful surface, chakra-infused tags were creating sudden, random currents that disrupted the water's tension and threatened to throw me off balance.
My first step nearly plunged me underwater. I adjusted quickly, carefully moderating chakra output until I regained stability. Each step became unpredictable, like dancing on wet ice. Just when I thought I had a rhythm, the instructors dialed things up further, turning the currents into swirling vortexes that aggressively tried to drag me under.
"This is completely excessive," I muttered, stumbling forward, my legs burning as I constantly adjusted chakra flow. Frustration and stubborn pride kicked in, and I forced chakra outward, stabilizing the tension beneath my feet until I practically sprinted through the final stretch. Ahead, dry ground promised brief relief but another log swung violently toward my head.
Instinctively, I ducked, wind ruffling my hair as more traps appeared. Fake explosive tags detonated harmlessly around me, and sharp branches lunged forward, forcing constant weaving and dodging. The traps became more relentless whenever I slowed down or moved predictably, demanding constant adaptation.
Suddenly, the trees parted, a deceptively wide chasm stood between me and the finish line, crossed only by a series of logs swaying like they wanted to kill someone.
"Just fantastic," I muttered, stepping cautiously onto the first log. They swung unpredictably in every breeze, spaced awkwardly enough to make each jump risky.
Jumping was easy. Landing was the nightmare. Each log swayed dangerously beneath me, requiring perfect timing and chakra balance. I adjusted continuously, reinforcing my feet just enough to stay upright without breaking the rotting wood.
Halfway across, ropes snapped above, causing several logs to swing wildly.
"Let's see you adapt," Daiken called, clearly entertained.
"Thanks, sensei," I growled sarcastically, frantically scanning for a safe route.
I jumped again, nearly slipping as the log swung violently beneath me. The rotting wood cracked with a sharp snap, and for a terrifying second, I was airborne without meaning to be. Acting on pure instinct, my hand shot out and grabbed the rope that had once held the shattered log, halting my fall and nearly yanking my arm from its socket.
"Damn it," I hissed, swinging awkwardly before channeling chakra into my limbs and scrambling back onto another log. The final jumps blurred into pure stubbornness and instinctive refusal to fail. When I finally landed safely, my arms trembled from that last incident, and my legs wobbled from all the constant chakra adjustments. Sweat clung to my shirt, soaking it completely as I finally reached the end of the test course.
Across the clearing, Daiken raised one eyebrow slightly. No verbal praise, just a silent nod that somehow felt worth more than actual words.
I walked slowly, deliberately trying to sense any last-minute traps those sadistic instructors might've set to punish anyone who let their guard down. But there were none. Which, honestly, felt even crueler. The instructors lining the end of the path looked impressed, some clearly satisfied with what they'd seen. Daiken, on the other hand, wore his usual stone-faced indifference. He gave a single nod and said just one word. "Acceptable."
Acceptable? After nearly being skewered, drowned, and knocked senseless by logs? I felt annoyed but undeniably proud. My body shook from exhaustion and chakra strain, yet I knew I'd scored high.
Returning, Shizuru greeted me with obvious relief, Genta stared in amazement, and Sena barely concealed her amusement. Shizuru studied me critically. "You look terrible."
I flashed her a tired smirk. "You always say the sweetest things."
Sena chuckled softly. "Your course seemed harder than everyone else's. I'm not sure why Daiken-sensei made something special just for you. I thought you'd handle it with a bit more grace, Noa."
"Grace?" I laughed, breathless. "This wasn't exactly a fan dance."
She shook her head, smiling faintly. "No, definitely not."
We turned to watch our classmates struggle through their own courses. Each test was different, keeping things unpredictable but brutally fair, pushing us all to our limits. Watching them stumble, fall, and recover, I admitted quietly to myself Daiken was right. The academy was genuinely shaping us into real shinobi.
Now, only the tactical sparring remained. The ultimate show of force. No more practice swings, no careful balancing. Just instincts, grit, and jutsu. And if they thought the obstacle course was brutal... then I'd show my opponent the true meaning of brutal.