[ Two hours ago ]
[ IRUKA UMINO ]
The academy training grounds had been gripped by a stunned, breathless silence. The sheer absurdity of Jinichi's win had turned the atmosphere of the sparring sessions on its head, leaving both me and Mizuki completely paralyzed for a crucial, agonizing moment.
Before the dust could even settle, I snapped out of my daze, lunging forward to catch Aoi's collapsing form. In the next moment, I rushed over to carry the unconscious Jinichi.
With Aoi slung carefully over one of my shoulders and a battered, exhausted Jinichi supported by my other arm, I bypassed the gawking students entirely, rushing straight for the academy clinic.
[ *BAM* ]
The school nurse took one look at the children and nearly dropped her clipboard.
"What in the world happened out there?!" she demanded, her hands already a blur of motion. Her left hand glowed with green medical chakra while her right rushed to reach a stack of crisp white bandages. She hoisted Aoi onto the first cot with surprising strength, then directed Jinichi to the second, her eyes flashing with a mix of professional urgency and maternal fury.
"These are deep bruises, Iruka! Abrasions, depleted stamina... They look like they just crawled back from a B-rank mission gone wrong, not a supervised spar! How could you let it go this far???"
I stood in the center of the sterile room, my head bowed, the harsh fluorescent lights casting long shadows over my face.
"I know," I muttered, my voice tight with guilt and residual adrenaline.
"I should have stopped it sooner. Jinichi's counterattack... had left me in a state of shock. By the time I realized it, the match was already over." I looked at the two cots, witnessing the strained faces of my two students, my knuckles turning white as I clenched my fists. "It won't happen again."
While the grim reality of the injuries settled in the clinic, the atmosphere back out on the training grounds was a storm of frantic whispers. Naruto was practically vibrating, punching the air as he shouted,
"Did you guys see that?! Jinichi was spinning like a human tornado! So cool!"
Sasuke, however, leaned against a wooden post, his dark eyes narrowed in intense focus, silently staring at the crater left behind by Jinichi's counterattack. He had expected Aoi to be that skilled; she had always shown her competence in spars. But Jinichi's unorthodox fighting style and counter-attacks were what truly surprised him—it was a fluid style he couldn't immediately break down and analyze unless he fought the boy himself.
Nearby, Sakura and Ino exchanged nervous glances, both thoroughly spooked by how violent their classmates had suddenly become.
"Man, what a drag," Shikamaru Nara sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the crater left behind in the dirt.
"If we have to fight like that to pass, I might as well just take a nap instead." Choji paused mid-crunch of his potato chips, nodding in wide-eyed agreement.
Meanwhile, Kiba grinned fiercely, Akamaru barking from inside his jacket.
"That was wild! Aoi was crazy fast, but Jinichi just kept dodging!"
Even the quieter students were shaken; Hinata pressed her index fingers together, looking anxiously toward the building where they had disappeared, while Shino adjusted his dark glasses, quietly noting the terrifying power of Jinichi's unknown technique.
The rising chaos was abruptly silenced by the sharp, ringing clap of Mizuki's hands.
"Alright, settle down, everyone!"
the silver-haired assistant instructor called out, projecting a calm, reassuring smile that hid his own lingering bewilderment. "Iruka-sensei has the situation handled. We still have a curriculum to get through, so I want everyone focused. Next pair, step up to the circle!"
Reluctantly, the students pulled their attention away from the drama and back to the spars, though the matches that followed felt incredibly tame by comparison. Eventually, the session came to an end, and Mizuki ushered the subdued class back indoors for their final lectures on chakra theory. When the final bell rang, the students scattered to their respective homes, the academy falling into a quiet, late-afternoon lull.
[ Present time ]
Now, back in the present, the clinic was silent save for the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. I dragged a wooden chair to the side of Jinichi's cot, my expression stern but curious. Aoi had been sedated and moved to a separate ward to rest, leaving teacher and student alone.
"Alright, Jinichi," I began, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. "I need some answers. That rotational taijutsu you used out there... what was that? I've never seen a kata like it in the academy scrolls."
[ JINICHI WATARU ]
'Okay, time to bluff like I've never bluffed before!'
I shifted uncomfortably against the pillows, wincing slightly as my bruised ribs protested against unnecessary movement.
"It's called Spinjutsu," I replied, keeping my gaze locked on the ceiling. "It's not in any scroll. I came up with it myself. I've been working on it for a while."
Iruka-sensei's brow furrowed, a skeptical frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"You came up with it? A obviously highly complex counter attack based taijutsu? Jinichi, be serious. You're an academy student. It takes Jonin-level masters years to develop a new, functional fighting style. Who really taught it to you?"
My head snapped toward sensei. Deep in my heart, I could feel it—anger welled up inside me as my eyes flared with sudden, defensive rage.
"I'm not lying!" I snapped back, my voice echoing sharply in the small room. "I built it from the ground up! Just because I'm not some clan prodigy doesn't mean I can't create something on my own! Why do you think I'm always sleeping off in class! I know I'm not as strong as the others, that's why I try my best and work harder!"
The raw offense in my voice made Iruka-sensei flinch, realizing he had struck a deep nerve. He held up both hands in a placating gesture, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Although the move is still rough around the edges…" I grumbled.
"You're right, I'm sorry," Iruka-sensei said softly, his tone losing its interrogative edge. "I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just... having a hard time wrapping my head around it. But you proved me wrong today. You gave it absolutely everything you had, and you won against a very skilled opponent. You've definitely changed my impression of you, Jinichi."
I blinked, taken aback by his apology.
'I'm more surprised by my outburst. Was I really that offended? A part of me was going to bluff my way out of this, but the anger was genuine.'
The tension slowly bled out of the room as I relaxed my posture, muttering a quiet thanks. As the silence stretched out, the conversation took a heavier, more personal turn. Iruka-sensei asked about my family, only to feel a cold knot form in his stomach when I quietly revealed I was an orphan.
"They were killed in the Nine-Tails attack. Twelve years ago," I murmured, staring at my bandaged hands.
Iruka-sensei closed his eyes, a phantom ache gripping his own chest. "I see... my parents too, were victims of that tragedy," the scarred teacher confessed quietly. "If you don't mind me asking," he continued gently, studying me with a newfound empathy, "what drives you to push yourself this hard? To invent a style like that?"
I looked out the window, my expression hardening. "A few reasons actually... I want to find some kind of meaning in my parents' deaths, so they didn't just die for nothing. But... a lot of it is just hatred. I want to be strong enough to destroy anything like the Nine-Tails if it ever comes back. And I want to prove to everyone in this village that I matter. That whether you were born a civilian or raised in a clan, your destiny is yours to choose."
Iruka-sensei's heart ached at the familiar display of grief and rage. He stood up, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Proving yourself is a noble goal, Jinichi," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But be careful with that hatred. It is a fire that can burn your enemies, but if you let it consume you, it will burn away everything you're trying to protect. And you should never direct it at members of your village, please think about that."
With a final, supportive nod, Iruka-sensei left the room. I lay back in the quiet clinic, closing my eyes to let my battered body finally rest.
[ IRUKA UMINO ]
'If only I could take my own advice.'
My thoughts immediately lingered on a spiky, blonde-haired boy. Shaking the heavy thought from my head, I closed the door of the infirmary behind me and walked back toward the empty classroom.
...
...…
....
[ Hokage Mansion ]
Later that evening, the smoke from the Third Hokage's pipe drifted lazily across his cluttered desk. I stood at attention, sliding the detailed performance reports of the sparring session across the polished wooden table.
"Here are the results of today's sparring sessions, Lord Third."
Lord Third picked up the parchment, his old eyes skimming the data with a knowing hum. "I specifically selected those matchups today, Iruka." the Hokage rasped.
"I wanted to force each student out of their comfort zone, to hint to them their own weaknesses in a controlled environment, and to also gather more data to help better them."
"It was almost entirely out of control, Lord Hokage, I failed to react fast enough." I admitted, still feeling the lingering sting of my earlier failure.
Lord Third chuckled softly, waving a dismissive hand as he gestured toward the glowing crystal ball sitting on a velvet cushion nearby.
"I know. I watched the entire affair from here," the Hokage revealed, a rare spark of genuine surprise in his wrinkled eyes. "Aoi's skill was exactly as I expected... but Jinichi… I did not foresee that boy finding a way to use her attacks to his advantage. Colour me surprised; it seems we have much to keep our eyes on, Iruka."
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, shifting my weight uncomfortably before speaking up. "There is... one more thing, Lord Third. I questioned him about the technique in the clinic. I assumed he had stumbled upon a forbidden scroll, or perhaps received outside tutoring."
Lord Third paused, his pipe hovering just inches from his mouth. "And? Did he?"
"No, sir," I said, my voice dropping slightly, still wrestling with the absolute absurdity of my own report. "He claims he invented it from scratch. He calls it
"Spinjutsu."
Lord Third's eyes widened a fraction, a thin trail of smoke slipping past his parted lips. The sheer incredulity of the statement hung heavy in the quiet office.
"Invented? An academy student creating a functional, high-velocity combat style?"
"It's rough around the edges," I clarified quickly, recalling the frantic, almost desperate nature of the boy's final move. "He didn't conjure a perfect, sustained cyclone. It was a small, erratic vortex—just enough to catch Aoi's strikes and throw her off balance. He admitted he can't even form the perfect rotation at will yet. It's unrefined, driven more by raw instinct and trial-and-error than absolute mastery."
The Third Hokage leaned back in his leather chair, slowly tapping his pipe against the crystal ashtray. "A small, imperfect vortex..." he mused, the gears in his mind turning rapidly.
"Using high-speed, full-body rotation to simultaneously deflect incoming strikes and generate centrifugal force for a counterattack. Tell me, Iruka, does that core philosophy sound familiar to you?"
I blinked, replaying the chaotic spar in my head until the realization hit me like a physical blow. "The Hyuga Clan," I breathed out. "It's the exact same fundamental theory behind their Kaiten."
"Precisely," Lord Third nodded, a grave but deeply fascinated look crossing his weathered face. "The Eight Trigrams Palms Revolving Heaven. To recreate even a fraction of that ultimate defensive mechanism without the Byakugan, without the Gentle Fist, and without a drop of formal clan training... that boy possesses a terrifyingly sharp combat intuition."
I swallowed hard, nodding in firm agreement.
"I'll keep a close watch on his progress, Lord Hokage." Bowing respectfully, I excused myself, quietly slipping out the heavy oak doors to finish the remainder of the day's grading.
[ HIRUZEN SARUTOBI ]
Alone in the dimming office, I slowly turned my chair toward the expansive window overlooking the hidden village, now bathed in the pale, silver light of the moon. I took a long, slow drag from my pipe, the aromatic smoke swirling around me as my mind lingered on the performance report Iruka had just delivered. An orphaned boy, carrying the heavy ghosts of the Nine-Tails attack, piecing together his own original techniques through sheer grit and unwavering willpower.
Yet, my admiration was quickly tempered by the cold, calculated reality of Konoha's political landscape. If I could so easily connect the core philosophy of Jinichi's 'Spinjutsu' to the Kaiten, Hiashi Hyuga certainly would too—and the Hyuga clan guarded their secrets with a fierce, merciless tenacity. I could not sit idly by and let them unleash their paranoia on a defenseless Academy student.
Forming a swift, silent hand sign, I pulsed my chakra into the dark corners of the room. "Boar, step forward," I commanded quietly.
Instantly, an ANBU operative materialized from the shadows, kneeling before my cluttered desk, awaiting my orders.
"I want you to discreetly research Jinichi Wataru's lineage from the ground up," I ordered, my voice dropping into a firm, authoritative register. "Examine his medical records, his parents' histories, and any documentation regarding his family line. I need to know if there is even a single drop of Hyuga blood in his veins. If a genetic connection truly exists, the ancient autonomy of the clan laws means the matter will ultimately be out of my hands as Hokage. But until we have definitive proof, he is a civilian child under my protection. Keep a watchful eye on him from the shadows, and ensure the Hyuga do not act against him unlawfully. I will fight for that boy's rights myself if it comes down to it."
The masked operative gave a sharp, affirmative nod and vanished into thin air, leaving me alone once more with the quiet ticking of the clock.
A melancholic, bittersweet smile touched my lips as the smoke plumed softly against the glass. It had been a long, long time since I had seen a student attempt something so fiercely audacious. My thoughts drifted back decades, settling on the memory of another bright-eyed, spiky-haired boy who had spent years tirelessly weaving raw, spinning chakra into a perfect sphere just to prove it could be done.
"An original technique..." I whispered to the empty room, the ghostly, smiling image of my successor flashing vividly in my mind's eye. "Let's see just how far your wind takes you, young one.