The Hidden Leaf Academy training ground was a swamp of humidity and teenage angst.
To the instructors, it was the "Cradle of Heroes." To me, it was a place where thirty children gathered to scream their lungs out while throwing sharp objects at wooden posts. The air was thick with the scent of dirt, sweat, and that cloying, over-eager energy ninjas call the "Will of Fire."
I call it a headache.
I stood in the back row, my back resting against a fence that had seen better days. I wasn't standing tall. My posture was that of a man who had long ago accepted that gravity was his only true friend. My hands were buried deep in my pockets, and my sunglasses specially tinted to handle the sensory overload of the Six Eyes remained firmly on my face.
Through those lenses, the world was a mess. I didn't see children; I saw flickering blue embers of Chakra. I saw the way the energy leaked out of their pores because they had zero control. It was like being trapped in a room with thirty broken neon signs that wouldn't stop buzzing.
A stray cat walked across the arena floor, tail twitching in annoyance. I respected that cat. It looked more prepared for combat than I was, and it clearly shared my opinion on the noise levels.
"Next: Uchiha Sasuke versus... Kenji!" Iruka-sensei's voice cut through the air.
The whispers started immediately. They were like the buzzing of flies.
"Kenji? The guy who has zero chakra?"
"Is Iruka trying to get him killed? Sasuke is a genius."
"I heard Kenji forgot his shuriken last week and tried to pass the test by throwing a rock."
I sighed. My feet felt heavy as I shuffled toward the center of the ring. Every step felt like a negotiation with my own laziness.
Sasuke was already there. He was the "Golden Child." The "Genius." He stood in a pose he had clearly spent three hours perfecting in front of a mirror arms crossed, head tilted just enough for his bangs to shade his eyes. He looked like a fan-fiction villain in training. He was even sweating. Why was he sweating? We hadn't even started.
"I'll make this quick," Sasuke muttered, his voice dropping into that low, brooding register that made the girls in the front row squeal.
I stared at him. Or rather, I stared at the chaotic mess of chakra sparking in his chest. It was a fuse waiting to blow. "Can you move a bit to the left?" I asked. "The sun is hitting my glasses at a weird angle."
Sasuke's eye twitched. "Begin!" Iruka shouted.
Sasuke blurred. I'll give him credit; he was fast for a twelve-year-old. He appeared on my left in a flicker of movement, his leg snapping out in a roundhouse kick aimed directly at my temple. The crowd gasped. They expected to see me flying. They expected a knockout.
His foot hit... nothing.
The kick stopped exactly one centimeter from my hair. There was no shield. No blue light. No barrier. It just stopped, as if the air around my head had suddenly become as dense as a diamond.
Sasuke's face contorted. He didn't understand. He pulled back and launched a flurry of strikes. Left hook. Right jab. Upper-cut. He was a whirlwind of Uchiha-style taijutsu.
Punch. Stop. Kick. Stop.
Every strike froze an inch from my skin. To the audience, it looked like he was shadowboxing a ghost. To me, it was just the Limitless doing its job. Space between us didn't just exist; it multiplied. He could run toward me for a thousand years and he would still be one centimeter away.
"Is this a Genjutsu?" Sasuke hissed, his breathing becoming ragged. He was losing his "cool guy" points by the second. He pulled a kunai, the steel humming as he slashed at my throat.
The blade halted. It vibrated against the invisible space, unable to move forward, unable to touch me.
"You're vibrating," I said, looking at the blade. "It's making a very annoying sound. Can you stop?"
"Show me your Chakra!" Sasuke roared. He was done being a genius. He was just a frustrated kid now. He lunged, throwing his entire body weight into a final, desperate punch.
I didn't move my hands. I didn't even change my expression. I just tilted my head. Maybe a little push. Yeah. One finger should do it.
I flicked a single finger against the air in front of his chest.
[Technique: Red. Output: 0.1%]
Thump.
A ripple of space hit Sasuke like a freight train. He didn't fall. He launched. He skipped across the dirt, tumbled three times, and slammed back-first into the wooden fence. Somewhere, Iruka's clipboard hit the ground. Clack.
The silence that followed was heavy. The cat stopped licking its paw.
I checked my watch.
"Did I pass? I have a lunch meeting with a bowl of miso soup. I'd hate to be late."
[Ding! Confused the 'Protagonist.' 500 Energy Points. Miso soup voucher added to inventory.]
Five-star miso. Would eat again.