The second portion of the graduation examination was held outdoors. Immediately beside the Ninja Academy, the staff had converted one of the familiar training grounds into a formal testing site. A low wooden platform had been erected at the edge of the dirt arena, large enough for several instructors to observe comfortably. Upon it sat three sturdy chairs and a narrow table piled with clipboards, ink brushes, and neatly stacked evaluation sheets.
The training ground itself had been swept clean the morning of. Off to the side, fresh targets stood in orderly rows with the paint of their bullseyes still crisp against solid wood. Nearby, practice logs and replacement shuriken, as well as weapon racks, stood polished and ready for the students to use.
Beyond the arena, the Academy building loomed over the proceedings; its windows, meanwhile, were crowded with the faces of younger students peeking through the glass whenever their instructors weren't looking.
Word of graduation had spread throughout all of Konoha, after all, and graduation day always drew spectators.
As Classroom 2A filed onto the packed earth, conversations that had filled the hallways only moments earlier gradually grew to a silent stop. Most, if not all of the students present, had imagined this day for years. Now that it was upon them–
Some of their stomachs churned.
At the front of the wooden platform, two of the three judges' seats were already taken. In the first seat sat Otaro with his usual imposing posture and thick arms. His face betrayed little emotion, though nearly every student instantly recognized him; the man who had overseen countless Academy spars over the past year, quietly observing their strengths, weaknesses, and growth without ever saying much himself.
Beside him sat the instructor of Classroom 1A.
Unlike Otaro's stoicism, his expression possessed a small, encouraging smile. As the students filed in, he flipped through a stack of evaluation forms and exchanged glances with many of the students upon seeing them. They had often crossed paths with Classroom 1A due to their many joint exercises and written exams, and the occasional classroom rivalry that had occurred over the last year. In some ways, his face was nearly as familiar as the student's own teacher.
Moments later, Takegi Sensei emerged from the Academy and conversation ceased entirely.
Takegi walked toward the raised platform with an unhurried gait. He carried himself with the same relaxed confidence that had defined his teaching year 'round. Meanwhile, his green flak jacket shifted softly with each of his steps as he made his way toward the final chair.
Without a word, he sat; then reached underneath his seat and grabbed a clipboard already filled in with students' names and criteria.
Takegi skimmed the first page. Nodded once.
Then, he looked toward Otaro. The older shinobi returned a subtle nod of his own.
Everything was ready.
Takegi cleared his throat. "Aya Asatsuyu. Come to the front."
The second part of the examination had officially begun.
The first discipline they tested was taijutsu. One by one, students stepped onto the center platform to demonstrate the Academy's three foundational forms. To younger students, the requirement sounded intimidating.
In reality, it was designed to verify the fundamentals, not mastery.
In other words, the 'three foundational forms' referred to 1. a proper straight punch, 2. a balanced front kick, and 3. a smooth combination of the two while maintaining correct posture, breathing, and recovery.
It was nothing flashy. Nothing improvised.
Just proof that months of repetition had become instinct.
As first to go, Aya completed her forms.
Behind her, Takegi took note.
"Pass." Otaro gave a single approving comment.
One after another, students followed. Some were crisp. Some were stiff.
Some nearly lost their balance before recovering with embarrassed smiles.
But for anyone who had taken their physical conditioning even remotely seriously, this section was little more than mere confirmation. Every student passed.
The second discipline tested was shurikenjutsu.
As mentioned prior, fresh targets had been erected along the perimeter of the training ground–exactly ten meters away. In addition, each student received three Academy-issued shuriken. That was all.
There were no moving targets. No obstacles, wind manipulation, or incoming attacks. As well as no requirement to throw while sprinting, jumping, or evading.
It was simply three clean throws.
Needless to say, the entire class passed. Then came the portion of the examination that everyone feared.
"The Three Basic Ninja Techniques."
Even before Takegi Sensei announced it, nervous tension could be felt in the air. This was where mistakes often occurred. The Clone Technique. The Substitution Technique. And the Transformation Technique.
Three jutsus. Three opportunities to fail.
The first student stepped forward. They flashed their hand-signs.
The clone flickered into existence… lopsided. Its proportions were all wrong; one arm appeared shorter than the other and the colors appeared bleached and faded out.
Takegi sighed. "Try again."
Thankfully, their second attempt succeeded.
"Pass." Otaro judged.
The next student struggled with the Transformation Technique. Another fumbled the Substitution Technique. For the first time that afternoon, students began failing individual assessments.
One student. Then, two.
The atmosphere behind the Ninja Academy noticeably tightened.
"Sen Aburame."
Sen stepped forward without hesitation. The Three Basic Ninja Techniques were something that all of the reincarnates had already long mastered.
As always, Sen's grey hood cast a shadow over his face while his goggles rested neatly over his eyes. His breathing never changed. Without prompting, Sen's hands burst into seals.
"Clone Technique."
A perfect duplicate appeared in a puff of smoke. Not translucent or distorted. Perfect.
The three judges nodded immediately.
Without further instruction, Sen formed another seal.
First, the world blurred.
Pop!
Where Sen had been standing now rested a substitution log. The real Sen, meanwhile, appeared several meters away with another log held calmly in his hand.
A few classmates blinked.
One final sequence of seals later.
Smoke erupted and when it cleared Ando Kaze now stood where Sen had once been. Same blonde hair. Same grin. Same loose posture.
Even Ando himself had to do a double-take before clutching himself laughing.
But before Sen could officially pass, Takegi Sensei leaned forward, "Voice." He said.
"Good morning, Sensei!" It was Ando's voice.
Takegi made a mark.
"Pass." Otaro said.
After Sen came Mori. She was precise and confident. Pass.
Then Ando Kaze. Energetic. Slightly theatrical. Pass.
Natsuko Sarutobi was next. She was elegant and efficient with her moves. Pass.
And lastly, Okuda Tomomori practically skipped onto the platform. His clone waved enthusiastically. His substitution nearly startled the judges, and his transformation included unnecessary dramatic posing.
The judges exchanged amused glances.
Pass.
Five names. Five successes. Five new Leaf genin.
As the final evaluations drew to a close, the instructors started to gather their paperwork. At the same time, students lingered nearby instead of immediately leaving and very quickly conversation sprang up across the training ground.
The sound was filled with relieved laughter, excited whispers, and the hushed talk of potential jonin instructors, team assignments, and future missions.
Then, without anyone saying a word–
Something remarkable happened.
The students began drifting together on their own. One after another, shoulder to shoulder. The crowd grew naturally with everyone squeezed closer together until nearly the entire graduating class stood side-by-side in front of the raised platform.
Meanwhile, Takegi looked up from his clipboard.
"...?"
The other instructors exchanged puzzled looks. Then–
Every student bowed.
Perfectly together.
Deep enough that some of their bangs nearly brushed the dirt.
"THANK YOU, TAKEGI SENSEI!!!" The students' shout burst across the training grounds like thunder.
"Thank you, Sensei!"
"Thanks for everything!"
"We'll make you proud!"
Children's voices overlapped into joyful chaos. Some laughed while shouting. Others laughed while crying.
For several long seconds, the instructors simply stared.
Speechless.
Otaro blinked. The Classroom 1A instructor flashed a cheeky smile.
Takegi Sensei himself looked completely caught off guard. His mouth hung open. Then, at last–
He laughed. A full, booming laugh that echoed across the Academy.
"Hah! Hah! Hah!"
He subtly wiped a tear from his eye before any of his students could notice.
"You little brats…" Takegi hopped down from the platform.
The students erupted towards him like a stampede. One boy was immediately caught under Takegi's arm as the instructor playfully ruffled his hair. Another girl received an affectionate pat on the shoulder.
Then, Takegi crouched low until he met his students at eye level. His grin immediately softened.
"I am proud of every single one of you."
That was all it took.
The orderly crowd dissolved into more laughter and chaos as students crowded around their Sensei from all directions. Someone hugged him. Then another.
Within moments, nearly the entire graduating class had gathered around their teacher in one enormous, chaotic embrace. Takegi wrapped both of his arms around as many of his students as he could reach.
For just a little while longer… they weren't genin preparing for war.
They were simply children saying goodbye to the teacher who had helped them become shinobi.