"So sharp…! He noticed the surveillance that fast?"
"This—this is what a true genius looks like. And he's so damn low-key. Compared to him, even the Hyūga prodigies don't measure up."
The proctor wiped cold sweat from his brow. Now he finally understood why Lionhawk had been so insistent about Natsume Yō.
Because the kid was terrifying.
What kind of mindset did it take to have such overwhelming strength, yet carry yourself like nothing mattered? The proctor tried to imagine himself in Yō's place—same power, same accomplishments. The result was laughable. He knew he'd flaunt it, shove it in everyone's face.
But Natsume Yō? He acted like it was all beneath notice. Calm. Detached. That kind of composure was what truly rattled the examiner.
"…Heh. So someone's watching me, huh? Interesting."
Yō's lips curved in a faint smile before he shut his eyes again, slouching over the desk like he hadn't a care in the world. His gaze drifted lazily to the doorway, empty, unreadable.
What he didn't notice was that two seats behind, a girl was quietly staring at him. Her eyes shone as if they could cast light… until her expression dimmed, shadowed by hesitation.
Mizuki Chinatsu. Don't mess up someone else's life. If you do, you'll regret it forever.
Her name was Mizuki Chinatsu—one year older than Yō, yet in the same cohort. She'd graduated top in theory, third in ninjutsu, and now served in Konoha's Medical Corps. Already a certified medic-nin. She didn't even know why she'd joined the Chūnin Exams. But the moment she learned Yō was participating, her feet carried her here on their own.
Unlike most medics, Chinatsu had offensive jutsu as well—but she hated fighting. Healing at the hospital brought her far more joy than blood and steel.
Meanwhile, Yō cracked one eye open, watching Moonlight Hayate and the others bask in attention, and sighed with a mock-dreamy voice."Must be nice. To be adored by everyone like that."
"Adoration doesn't come cheap, little brother," someone behind him chuckled bitterly. "That's the treatment reserved for geniuses. For us common folk? Best we can do is stand in the shadows, the green leaves that make them shine brighter."
"Yeah," another voice joined, weary. "We can work our whole lives, and what they get with a flick of the wrist… we might never touch. The gap's too wide."
Yō nodded with a convincingly gloomy look, even sighed like he'd already accepted fate.
From the row ahead, a sharp, mocking tone cut in."Hmph. At least you know your place."
It was a shinobi from Sunagakure, sneering over his shoulder, face brimming with arrogant satisfaction. Clearly, Yō's "self-awareness" pleased him.
But Yō suddenly leaned forward, voice steady and sure."Still… I've always believed hard work can surpass genius."
The Sand-nin snorted, eyes narrowing with disdain."Heh. Keep dreaming, fool."