Chương 42: **Chapter 42: Evaluation**
At first, when Hattori said, "I'm counting on you for everything, Sister Mizusuna," she assumed he was just being polite. But when they arrived at the Ninja Academy in Sunagakure, entering the exam hall for the graduation of junior ninjas, and she realized they were there to select members for a new medical emergency team, she understood he genuinely meant it.
"Lord Hattori really does trust me!"
Looking over at Hattori, who was fast asleep next to her with a small puddle of drool forming, a slight smile softened Mizusuna's expression.
"Still as sleepy as ever… After all, Lord Hattori is still just a kid," she thought to herself.
Carefully, she removed her long scarf from around her neck and placed it under Hattori's head to make him more comfortable. After settling him, she addressed the stunned examiner nearby, "No need to wake Lord Hattori. Let's begin the test!"
"Uh… yes, Lady Mizusuna!"
After his quick reply, the examiner overseeing the graduation exam stepped outside to call in the candidates one by one.
The Ninja Academy in Sunagakure wasn't an original idea but was modeled after the one in Konoha, so the curriculum was largely the same: chakra extraction techniques, basic transformation jutsus, shuriken throwing, usage of explosive tags, and ways to dispel standard genjutsu. Graduation exams typically focused on one of three jutsus—Transformation, Substitution, or Clone Jutsu—which served as a "gold standard" for evaluating the junior ninjas' abilities, as each technique was considered essential for survival.
Back in the day, Naruto struggled with the Clone Jutsu during his exam, leading to all sorts of trouble. But that was during a time of relative peace in Konoha, so the testing standards were strict. Now, however, with Sunagakure in the midst of wartime, the standards were far more lenient—because, on the battlefield, manpower was in high demand.
The Third Kazekage had specifically asked Hattori and Mizusuna to handpick candidates, rather than simply accepting a bulk of graduates from the academy, ensuring the selection was more discerning.
Mizusuna, experienced with this process, approached it confidently. As the first candidate entered, she greeted them with a smile.
"Let's start with a Transformation Jutsu. Your target… will be him!" she said, gesturing to the sleeping Hattori. She then turned to the student, adding, "You have five minutes to prepare."
"Uh… yes, ma'am!" the nervous candidate responded, stiffly turning his head to observe the sleeping Hattori. After a few minutes of studying him, he turned back to Mizusuna.
"I'm ready, teacher!"
"Alright, let's see it," she replied.
"Yes!" He formed a seal, his fingers held in the sword-hand gesture as he chanted, "Transformation Jutsu!"
With a burst of white smoke, the candidate emerged as a near-perfect replica of the sleeping Hattori, drool and all! Mizusuna's eyes lit up.
"Not bad; your chakra control is impressive. Now, let's see a Clone Jutsu!"
"Yes, teacher!" Buoyed by her praise, the candidate performed the Clone Jutsu.
"Clone Jutsu!"
With two small pops, two identical copies appeared next to the candidate—perfectly executed. Mizusuna's smile broadened.
"Excellent. This batch of graduates has shown good skills. You've passed; come and collect your forehead protector."
"Thank you, teacher!" The candidate eagerly accepted his headband, bowing in gratitude before exiting with excitement.
After the candidate left, Mizusuna marked his name with a check on the roster, then signaled the examiner, "Next candidate, please!"
"Yes, ma'am!" The examiner gestured to the ninja at the door to let the next candidate in.
The second candidate followed the same instructions but struggled with his chakra control. His Transformation Jutsu resulted in a version of Hattori that was slightly pudgy and with a swollen face. Clearly not up to the standards for the medical team, Mizusuna issued him his headband and dismissed him.
One by one, candidates came in, performed their exams, and exited, with most passing and earning their Sunagakure headbands, officially becoming junior ninjas. Mizusuna took notes throughout, narrowing her selection down to over a hundred candidates, who were her initial picks for the medical "seed" group.
Despite the large class size, this group was just a small fraction of the overall graduates. And in the end, who among these would actually make it as medical ninjas was still uncertain.
Once her selections were complete, she had the examiner call the chosen graduates back into the hall. As they re-entered with looks of confusion, she addressed them:
"I imagine your instructor explained why you were called back, so I won't go into too much detail. Starting today, you'll be part of the new medical emergency—"
"Hold it! I never agreed to join a medical team!" interrupted a boy around eleven or twelve years old, stepping out from the crowd.
"My dream is to become like the Third Kazekage, and my father was killed by the ninjas from Iwagakure. I'm not going to become a medical ninja—I want revenge!"
His declaration stirred up similar sentiments among the group.
"That's right! Iwagakure ninjas killed my father, too. I want revenge, not medical training!"
"My mother was killed by Kirigakure! I'm after revenge too!"
Hearing their passionate protests, Mizusuna frowned and snapped, "Enough! This medical team is the will of the Kazekage himself, and you—"
"Mizusuna, that's enough," came a calm voice from behind her, cutting her off. She turned apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Lord Hattori; I didn't mean to wake you!"
"Heh, it's not your fault." Hattori smiled faintly, glancing at the group with a hint of disdain.
"It was all this trash over here that woke me up."
His words sparked outrage among the freshly minted junior ninjas, and one hot-headed boy stepped forward.
"Who do you think you are, calling us trash? Say that again if you dare!"
Watching the boy's furious reaction, Hattori smirked, standing up slowly as he beckoned them closer.
"Don't get me wrong; it's nothing personal. I wasn't singling anyone out," he began, his tone dripping with disdain, "I mean the whole lot of you… you're all trash, through and through."
---
end
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