Shikamaru Nara, Chōji Akimichi, and Kiba Inuzuka were curious about Meian, but they had the good sense not to ask.
When classes ended, Meian didn't vanish like he usually did. Kakashi had picked up a mission that morning, which meant the Academy would be quieter than usual. As Meian headed for the gates, Hinata Hyūga and Ino Yamanaka caught up with him.
Ino, never one to hold back, stepped into his path with a knowing smirk. "So, what's different today? Finally ready to admit we've figured you out?"
Hinata walked on his other side, her voice soft and apologetic. "Ino, that's not very kind."
Meian let out a quiet laugh. "You're always this loud, aren't you?"
Ino's face flushed. "Did I hit a nerve?"
He didn't answer. He had no reason to watch the older ninja anymore—their technique had plateaued long ago. Nothing left to learn from them.
The three walked together in silence, though Ino's voice filled most of it. By the time they'd been walking ten minutes, Meian realized Ino could talk for entire missions without taking a breath.
As they approached a small forest on the village's edge, Meian stopped abruptly and took Hinata's hand.
"Wait," he said quietly.
Ino kept walking for three more steps before she noticed. She turned back, one eyebrow raised. "What's wrong?"
Meian's expression had gone hard. "There's someone in those woods. The same group from yesterday, probably looking for payback. Hinata, get ready."
Hinata's face went crimson—partly from Meian's grip on her hand, partly from the sudden shift in atmosphere. "O-Okay."
Ino stared at the treeline, skeptical. "I don't see anyone. And even if someone was in there, so what? This is Konoha. People walk through forests all the time."
But Meian had felt it: a signature of chakra that didn't belong to any Academy student. Someone with real training. Who else would it be?
Before Ino could mock him further, a branch snapped in the darkness of the trees.
Ino heard nothing.
Meian was already moving, kunai drawn. He flicked his wrist, and the blade sang through the air—meeting something solid mid-flight with a sharp clang.
Ino jumped. "What was that?!"
"Hinata," Meian commanded, eyes fixed on the forest. "Byakugan. Now."
Hinata's eyes transformed in an instant, her Byakugan blooming with its pale radiance. She traced the forest with her sight, searching. There—two figures, nestled among the higher branches. "Two ninja," she breathed. "Hidden about thirty meters in. Their chakra... they're at least Genin-rank."
Ino's face drained of color. "That's impossible. Why would ninja attack us? We're just students!"
Meian kept his stance defensive, shoulders loose, ready. "I may have made some enemies among the older students yesterday. Seems they brought professionals." He glanced at Ino. "We need to move. Now."
"We should run for the Military Police!" Ino's voice cracked. "Meian, we can't fight real shinobi!"
Meian's jaw tightened. "Run today, and they'll hunt us tomorrow. And the day after that." He drew another kunai. "I'm ending this now."
Something in his tone made even Ino stop arguing. There was no fear in him—only cold certainty.
"Don't be reckless!" she hissed, but Meian was already moving, a blur disappearing into the treeline.
Hinata hesitated only a moment before following.
Ino cursed under her breath and ran after them both.
Deep in the forest, Meian's eyes locked onto his targets. Two Genin, crouched low behind thick oaks, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He could read their posture, the rhythm of their breathing—they were amateurs playing at ambush.
He called out, his voice steady and measured, "So they hired actual shinobi to bully Academy students? That's pathetic. How long before the Military Police hears about this little arrangement? How long before your rank gets stripped?"
The two Genin exchanged a glance. They'd been paid to rough him up, to scare him into silence about yesterday. But this kid—he was talking about reports, consequences, the chain of command. The thought of losing their status made something hot and ugly rise in their chests.
They stepped out from behind the trees, kunai in hand, their faces twisted into sneers.
"Cocky little brat," the first one growled. "You think the rules protect you?"
The second laughed, harsh and cold. "We can hurt you plenty without killing you. Beat you black and blue, break a few bones... and if you ever open your mouth? We'll find you again. Every time."
Meian's lip curled. "You two are what, fifteen? Sixteen? You should be at least Chūnin by now if you had any real talent. As it is, I'm embarrassed for you."
The words landed like actual blows. Around their age, most shinobi were still struggling as Genin. Reaching Chūnin rank was an achievement. Being called weak—being mocked for their status—ignited something primal in both of them.
"You're dead," one snarled.
Meian tilted his head slightly. "That's what I'm counting on. I need to know the difference between myself and a real ninja. You two will serve that purpose."
He moved.
It wasn't fast enough to be supernatural, but it was faster than a normal Academy student should manage. The Genin barely registered the blur before Meian's heel connected with the first one's ribs, driving the wind from his lungs. The man dropped like a cut tree, gasping, wheezing.
The second reacted on instinct, lunging forward with his kunai aimed at Meian's spine.
Hinata and Ino watched in horror as the blade sank deep into flesh—
—and Meian exploded into white smoke.
The Genin's eyes went wide. "What—? A Shadow Clone? How is an Academy student using the Shadow Clone Jutsu?!"
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