Naruto rebirth! Born again with a system.

Chapter 15: The Test of Three Phases - Part 1 Individual Assessments!

The morning mist clung to the training grounds like a shroud, and Kōzaru could taste the metallic tang of dew mixed with his own nervous sweat as he stepped into the designated testing area. The circular clearing had been marked by wooden posts driven deep into the earth—weathered sentinels that had witnessed countless evaluations, failures, and triumphs. Each post bore the subtle scars of kunai strikes and jutsu practice, testament to the generations of would-be ninja who had stood where he now stood.

Instructor Hayama waited at the opposite end of the clearing, his chunin vest pristine despite the early hour, every piece of equipment precisely positioned. His stance spoke of controlled violence barely restrained—the casual confidence of someone who had not merely survived the brutal transition from student to soldier, but had thrived in it. The morning light caught the gleam of his forehead protector, and Kōzaru felt the weight of what that symbol represented pressing down on his shoulders. What had once been a headband that represented a fantasy world, now held real weight.

Through his peripheral vision, Kōzaru could see the Hokage and Shibi Aburame positioned at carefully chosen vantage points that afforded them optimal viewing angles. The Third Hokage's presence transformed the entire clearing—even the air seemed heavier, charged with the authority of someone who had shaped the destiny of nations. Shibi Aburame stood perfectly still, his dark glasses reflecting nothing, giving away nothing, but Kōzaru could feel the intensity of his gaze like a physical weight.

The scrutiny felt heavier than anything he had ever been through, heavier than the expectations of his past life, heavier than his own dreams of proving himself worthy of the ninja path in this new world.

"The individual assessment consists of three components," Hayama announced, his voice cutting through the morning stillness with practiced authority that brooked no question or hesitation. "Taijutsu proficiency, ninjutsu demonstration, and tactical problem-solving under pressure."

He gestured with economical precision toward a series of training dummies arranged in a complex pattern around the clearing's perimeter. Each dummy had been positioned with deliberate intent—some elevated, others partially concealed, all designed to test different aspects of combat proficiency. The wooden constructs showed the accumulated damage of countless evaluations, their surfaces scarred but still functional, still ready to measure the next generation of ninja against the unforgiving standards of their craft.

"Begin with the taijutsu sequence," Hayama continued, his eyes never leaving Kōzaru's face. "Demonstrate your combat forms against the targets, then engage me in controlled sparring for two minutes. Remember—this is an assessment, not a duel. Show me your techniques, your control, and your ability to adapt under observation."

The emphasis on that last phrase was unmistakable. This wasn't just about technical proficiency—it was about performing under the kind of pressure that would define their future missions.

Kōzaru nodded, feeling his heart rate begin to stabilize as the familiar comfort of physical preparation took over. Years of training he had never done in this body had conditioned him to find calm in the moments before action, to let muscle memory and instinct guide him when conscious thought might falter. Through his bonds with Yuki and Riku, he could sense their encouragement—a warm current of support and readiness that flowed between them like shared breath. If permitted, they stood ready to demonstrate the true depth of Inuzuka partnership, but for now, they offered their silent strength.

He approached the first training dummy with measured steps, each footfall deliberate and controlled. The weathered wooden construct had been designed to simulate human proportions and resistance, its joints engineered to respond realistically to strikes while absorbing punishment that would cripple a living opponent. Drawing on his Taijutsu skill—now at level 7 thanks to his recent stat allocation—he began the standard Inuzuka combat forms that were embedded in his memory.

But these weren't the hesitant, uncertain movements of an academy student still learning to trust his body. His punches carried the precision and power of someone who understood leverage and momentum at an instinctive level, each strike flowing naturally from optimal positioning and perfect timing. His kicks transitioned seamlessly from one stance to the next, each movement building upon the previous in a chain of calculated force that spoke of combat experience far beyond apparent years of a ten year old.

The wooden dummy shuddered under impacts that would have been impossible for him just days ago. His enhanced physical capabilities, combined with the muscle memory granted by his system advancement, allowed him to demonstrate techniques that bordered on genin-level proficiency—or perhaps exceeded it. Wood groaned and creaked under the sustained assault, the sound echoing across the clearing like applause.

"Interesting," he heard Shibi Aburame murmur to the Hokage, the words carrying clearly in the morning stillness. "His form shows advanced understanding of combat principles, but there's something... instinctive about his movements. As if he's drawing on experience he shouldn't possess yet."

The observation sent a chill down Kōzaru's spine, but he forced himself to maintain focus, to ignore the commentary that threatened to break his concentration. He moved through the sequence of training dummies with fluid precision, each target requiring different approaches that tested both his adaptability and his technical mastery. High strikes that demanded perfect balance, low sweeps that required explosive leg strength, combination attacks that tested his ability to maintain power and control through complex movement chains.

When he finished the sequence, barely breathing hard despite the intensity of the demonstration, Hayama stepped forward with approval evident in his posture and expression.

"Well executed," the chunin said, his tone carrying genuine respect. "Now, controlled sparring. Two minutes, no weapons, demonstrate your defensive capabilities as well as offensive techniques."

What followed was less a sparring match than a dynamic demonstration of skill under pressure. Hayama clearly possessed superior experience and refined technique—his movements carried the polish of someone who had faced life-and-death combat and emerged victorious. But he moderated his attacks with the skill of a instructor, creating challenges that would allow Kōzaru to showcase his abilities rather than simply overwhelming him with superior force.

Kōzaru found himself drawing on his enhanced physical capabilities in ways that felt natural despite their recent acquisition. His reactions were faster than they had any right to be, his balance more stable, his counters more precise and devastating than someone of his supposed experience level should have been able to manage. Each exchange built upon the last, creating a rhythm of attack and defence that pushed Kōzaru to his limits.

When Hayama launched a controlled but powerful strike toward his midsection—the kind of attack that would have overwhelmed most academy students—Kōzaru didn't just dodge. He flowed around the attack like water around stone, using his smaller size and enhanced speed and reflexes to position himself for a counterattack that forced the experienced chunin to adjust his own stance and timing.

"Time," Hayama called, stepping back with what might have been newfound respect gleaming in his eyes. "Your taijutsu foundation is remarkably solid, with advanced elements that suggest either exceptional natural talent or..." He paused meaningfully, glancing toward the observing jonin. "...Access to training resources beyond the standard academy curriculum."

Perhaps that of the Inuzuka clans own Taijutsu style...

The second phase of evaluation proved equally revealing, though in different ways. When asked to demonstrate his ninjutsu capabilities, Kōzaru performed his Wind Style: Gale Palm with a precision and devastating power that drew murmurs of approval from the observers. The technique itself wasn't particularly advanced in terms of raw complexity, but the chakra control required to execute it with such clean efficiency, combined with the obvious tactical applications he demonstrated by using it to manipulate the environment around the training area, suggested understanding that went far beyond rote memorization of hand seals and chakra manipulation.

"Your chakra control shows remarkable development for your age," Instructor Tokuma observed as he stepped forward for the final phase, his analytical gaze studying Kōzaru with the intensity of someone trying to solve a complex puzzle. "To be able to use a wind style jutsu at such a young age, very impressive indeed. Now we test your tactical thinking."

What followed was a scenario-based exercise that required him to analyse a mock mission briefing under time pressure, identify potential complications that might not be immediately obvious, and propose solutions that balanced mission success with team safety. The briefing described a reconnaissance mission to investigate suspicious activity near the village border—exactly the kind of assignment a fresh genin team might receive, complete with incomplete intelligence and ambiguous objectives.

Kōzaru found himself drawing on knowledge from both his current world understanding and his previous life's familiarity with tactical thinking and strategic planning that he had aquired from countless hours of study and video games. His analysis was thorough but concise, demonstrating an ability to process complex information quickly and identify the most critical elements. His proposed solutions showed both appropriate caution and calculated initiative, while his contingency planning revealed awareness of the complex factors that could affect real missions—weather, enemy capabilities, civilian complications, supply limitations, and communication challenges.

More importantly, he seamlessly integrated his Inuzuka clan abilities and ninja hound capabilities into every aspect of his tactical planning, showing how enhanced senses and pack coordination could provide advantages that purely human teams couldn't replicate.

"Acceptable," Tokuma concluded, though his tone suggested the assessment was significantly more positive than the conservative word implied. "You demonstrate tactical awareness that extends well beyond your apparent years and documented experience level." The instructor said, turning toward the Hokage and others who nodded in approval.

As Kōzaru returned to his teammates, both puppies immediately flanked him with obvious pride radiating from their compact forms. Through their empathic bonds, he could sense their satisfaction at his successful performance and their eager anticipation of their own opportunities to contribute to the team's evaluation. Yuki's tail wagged with barely contained excitement, while Riku maintained a more dignified bearing that still couldn't entirely hide his pleasure.

"Well done," Tatsuma said quietly, though his voice carried the nervous energy of someone whose own moment of truth was rapidly approaching.

"Tatsuma Uzumaki," Instructor Hayama called, his voice cutting through the brief respite. "You're next."

The second evaluation proved equally illuminating, though in distinctly different ways that highlighted the unique strengths each team member brought to their collective capabilities. Tatsuma's taijutsu demonstration was undeniably competent—his movements showed solid fundamentals and reliable technique—but they lacked the precise devastating power that had characterized Kōzaru's performance. Instead, his style showed the broader, more defensive approach that complemented his intellectual strengths and previous life's experience with martial arts training.

His strikes were measured rather than explosive, his defence prioritized positioning and timing over raw physical dominance. It was the fighting style of someone who understood that battles were won through superior strategy as much as superior technique, someone who would rather outthink an opponent than simply overpower them.

But when the ninjutsu assessment began, the entire atmosphere in the clearing shifted dramatically, charged with new energy and possibility.

"Demonstrate your most advanced technique," Hayama instructed, his voice carrying the same professional neutrality he had used with Kōzaru.

Tatsuma's hands flashed through the complex hand seals for Shadow Clone Jutsu with practiced precision that spoke of countless hours of secret practice. Suddenly three identical copies of himself stood in the clearing, each one solid and substantial rather than the flickering, unstable projections most genin produced.

These weren't the desperate, chakra-draining attempts of a student pushing beyond his limits. They moved with perfect coordination, each clone capable of independent action while maintaining seamless teamwork with the others. The technique was executed with a level of mastery that suggested not just raw talent, but deep understanding of the jutsu's underlying principles.

"Multiple shadow clones," the Hokage observed, his voice carrying new interest and perhaps a touch of surprise. "Executed with remarkable stability for someone of your age."

The tactical assessment that followed showcased Tatsuma's intelligence and strategic thinking was still of a good level, but not the same as Kōzaru. Still, his analysis of the mock mission briefing was thorough and innovative, proposing solutions that leveraged his clone techniques in creative ways that demonstrated both tactical creativity and practical understanding of their real-world applications.

He didn't just see the clones as additional manpower—he understood how they could provide intelligence gathering, diversionary tactics, simultaneous multi-vector approaches, and redundant capability that could ensure mission success even under adverse conditions.

"Your Uzumaki heritage is evident in both your chakra capacity and your natural aptitude for advanced techniques," Tokuma concluded, though his analytical gaze remained fixed on Tatsuma's face. "Though I'm curious about how you developed such proficiency without formal instruction in these jutsu."

Tatsuma simply gave a nervous smile as he rubbed the back of his head, the gesture somehow managing to deflect the question without providing any real answer.

Aotaka's evaluation completed the pattern of exceptional performance coupled with puzzling advanced capabilities that seemed to exceed what their backgrounds and documented training should have made possible. His taijutsu demonstration was less technically refined than the others but showed solid fundamentals and natural athleticism. That and his natural Senju strength that even broke one of the training dummies, giving the Hokage flash backs of one of his own students of when she was younger.

His kenjutsu work with his grandfather's sword revealed natural talent enhanced by what appeared to be instinctive understanding of weapon combat that went beyond mere academy instruction, thanks to his 7 points in Kenjutsu.

However, it was his lightning-style techniques that truly set him apart and drew the most intense scrutiny from the observing instructors.

When he channelled lightning chakra through his blade during the ninjutsu assessment, the steel sang with barely contained energy that made even the experienced instructors murmur in appreciation and perhaps concern. The technique was clearly advanced, requiring both exceptional chakra control and deep understanding of elemental manipulation that typically took years to develop. The blade didn't just conduct the electricity—it amplified and focused it, creating a weapon that could cut through defences both physical and chakra-based.

Thanks to Aotaka's perks in both lightning style and chakra flow into weapons, he could already enhance his blade with the lightning style, making for a deadly combination.

Sparks danced along the sword's edge like tiny stars, and the air around Aotaka crackled with residual energy that made the hair on everyone's arms stand on end. The demonstration was brief but devastatingly effective, showing power that could change the outcome of battles.

"Remarkable," Shibi Aburame commented as Aotaka completed his tactical analysis with the same thoughtful precision his teammates had shown. "All three demonstrate capabilities that suggest either extraordinary natural talent or access to training resources beyond what their documented backgrounds would indicate."

The words hung in the morning air like an unspoken question, a challenge that none of the three friends seemed prepared to answer directly.

The Hokage nodded thoughtfully, his face showing the kind of careful consideration that came from decades of evaluating ninja potential and making decisions that would shape the village's future. His eyes moved between the three teammates, cataloguing not just their individual capabilities but the subtle signs of coordination and mutual support that suggested their bond went deeper than simple friendship.

Whatever he saw in that assessment, it was clear that Team 15 had exceeded expectations in ways that would have significant implications for their future assignments and development.