Chapter 42: The Unwritten Answer
The written test began.
The moment the test papers were distributed, the initial confidence on many faces melted away, replaced by frowns of confusion and dread. The first nine questions were brutally difficult, covering complex chakra theory, tactical analysis, and obscure codes—knowledge far beyond the standard genin curriculum. But it was the tenth question that truly baffled them.
Question 10:
Forty-five minutes after the start of the test, the proctor will announce the specifics of this question. Please answer only after you fully comprehend the instructions.
"It's impossible! There's no way to answer these without specialized training!" one genin muttered in despair.
Panic began to set in. But rules were rules, and the penalty for cheating was severe. Yet, as the minutes ticked by, desperation bred ingenuity. The rule against cheating wasn't a prohibition; it was a test in itself.
Ten minutes in, the first cheats began. Inuzuka Kiba, never known for his patience, was among the first. He had Akamaru perch on his head, the small dog peeking at nearby answer sheets and relaying the information through nearly inaudible whimpers and barks that only Kiba could understand. It was a conspicuous method, but it worked, disguised as a boy playing with his pet.
This opened the floodgates. All around the room, genin began to use their unique skills.
Aburame Shino remained perfectly still, but a swarm of microscopic kikaichū beetles fanned out, their compound eyes capturing the written answers of others and transmitting the images directly back to him.
Hyūga Neji, his Byakugan active, saw through desks and papers with ease, his pencil moving swiftly as he copied the answers of a prodigy from a different village.
Uchiha Sasuke closed his eyes, and when they snapped open, the tomoe of his Sharingan spun. He didn't just see the answers; he perfectly replicated the very hand movements of the scribes, his pen becoming an echo of theirs.
Tenten, with impeccable precision, adjusted her pen so its reflective surface caught the light from the ceiling, creating a tiny, clear mirror that showed her the paper of the candidate two rows ahead. She then subtly signaled the answers to a desperately struggling Rock Lee.
Nearby, Yamanaka Ino closed her eyes, her consciousness slipping into Shikamaru's mind. 'This is so troublesome,' his thoughts grumbled in her head, even as he mentally dictated the answers he had deduced. Ino then relayed them to a waiting Chōji.
It was a spectacle of "crossing the sea by each displaying their own powers," a clandestine ballet of espionage and information gathering.
And throughout it all, Aizen Sōsuke sat perfectly still. His eyes, sharp and perceptive, scanned the room not for answers, but to observe the methods of others. A faint, disdainful smile played on his lips. He had no need for such crude methods. The questions, while complex, were trivial puzzles for a mind that had orchestrated plots spanning centuries. He filled in his answers with swift, confident strokes, knowing each one was correct. Ibiki's harsh rule for him—a perfect score or failure—was not a threat, but a minor formality.
Forty-five minutes elapsed. The room, which had been a hive of silent, frantic activity, stilled once more.
"Time's up for the first nine questions," Ibiki's voice boomed, silencing the last whispers. "Now, I will announce the rules for the tenth question."
He paused, his scarred face grim. "For this final question... you must first choose whether to take it or not."
A confused murmur rippled through the room.
"If you choose not to take it, you will fail immediately. Furthermore, all members of your team will also fail and be disqualified."
The murmurs grew louder.
"However," he continued, his voice dropping to a more ominous tone, "if you choose to take it... and you answer incorrectly, you will never be allowed to take the Chunin Exams again. You will remain a genin for the rest of your life."
The announcement landed like a physical blow. The room erupted into protests.
"What kind of rule is that?!"
"This is insane!"
"Some of us have taken this exam three times already!"
Ibiki remained unmoved, a rock against the tide of their fear. "This is my decision for this year. Those who choose not to answer the tenth question, raise your hand now. You may leave."
The pressure was immense, a psychological vise designed to break them. Under the crushing weight of a potential lifetime of failure, many broke. Hands shot up all over the room. One by one, and then in groups, genin stood and shuffled out, their dreams shattered. The once-packed classroom rapidly thinned out.
In the end, only a little over two dozen teams remained. Including Aizen as a one-person team, a total of 79 candidates sat in resolute silence.
Ibiki surveyed the remaining genin, a final challenge in his eyes. "I will give you one last chance. You may still change your mind."
Not a single person moved. Not a hand was raised. The silence in the room was absolute, a testament to their collective resolve.
A full minute passed.
Then, a rare, slight smile touched Ibiki's stern lips.
"Then... I declare it," his voice echoed in the quiet hall. "Every one of you still in this room... has passed the first exam!"