I was wrapping up teaching my class when instructor Idomizu waved for me outside. “Alright, class, we will end the lesson here now. Great job keeping up. I know this is a lot to go over, but I think you guys are doing well.”

The students let out relieved sighs as they finally got to stop listening to such a boring lecture. I had been spreading out the use of the genjutsu teaching method to not cause, or at least mitigate, any problems. The kids knew that we would go for P.E. now and had already made their way to wait by the door.

Escorting them to the field, we walked through the school halls. The kids bobbed their heads up and down left and right, looking around as we walked. When I finally made it to the door outside, I stopped and waited for the kids. “Okay, let's go for one of the kunoichi today. Muta Aburame, How many scarecrow dolls did you see?”

“Three sensei: One at the end of the hall when we first started walking, the second on top of the lockers when we were walking by, and the third by the trash can.” The girl answered quietly.

“What!?” One of the boys shouted. “I didn’t see that first one. You're lying!”

Muta flinched at the loud noise and got flustered. “Am not.”

Discontent rose among the students. “She’s not lying. Aburame answered the question correctly. I placed a doll at the opposite end of the hall, where we would see if you guys were paying attention.”

“That’s cheating. We should keep a lookout while we walk to the field. That doll was not on the way.”

“The doll was not on the way, that is correct, but the idea is that you need to keep an eye on your surroundings when you travel.” I coughed to clear my throat and begone my lecture. “If the classroom represents the village and the field is the location for your mission. It would be best if you kept an eye out for any suspicious people. If the enemy thought you would leave the village and turn left but spotted you turning right. Then your enemy knows they need to prepare a trap for you in that direction.” The kids responded with huffs and eye rolls, but they needed to learn this lesson in the academy instead of on a mission. I turned my head to stare at the Aburame girl. “Well done. Because of your attention to detail. You were able to help keep your comrades safe. Good job.” The girl suddenly became bashful at the attention and muttered thanks under her breath.

I opened the door and allowed the students to spread out to the field and started talking with their friends. I went to Idomizu, who was waiting for me while watching his students. “You sure took your time.” He answered

“Just making sure the kids stretch their legs and get the sleep out of their eyes. My lessons can be on the boring side sometimes.”

“Whatever. Now that you are here, we can start on what was decided during this mourning. HEY! Gather around, we’re starting.” The kids gathered around the sparing circle with a bit of confusion written on their faces.

“sensei, why are the little kids here? They're in the wrong place.”

“We aren’t little. You are just a year older than us.”

“Quiet. We are having a joint sparring lesson today.” Idomizu answered but gave no sign of clarifying, so I stepped in.

“Look around you. Chances are you are going to be on a team with a schoolmate here when you graduate. It’s best you guys get to know each other now, then later.” Some of the kids nodded in understating but I could tell Idomizu was annoyed. He believed ninjas should follow orders and not question why, A mindset that tells me that Idomizu will most likely never make it out of Chunin rank.

“Enough stalling. Form a circle, and I will pick out the first duo.” Idomizu and I proceeded to spend the rest of the school day paring up students to spar with each other. It's safe to say my fifth years were dominated by the sixth years. Idomizu would get a smirk on his face when a sixth year would beat a fifth year and mark down when a fifth year would beat a sixth. I had a feeling that I knew what was going on and ignored it.

By the end of the day, my students were exhausted and beaten up. Idomizu took his kids to jog around the field, and on another day, I would take my students to do the same, especially when they were exhausted and beaten. However, the looks in their eyes told me their morale was low after their performance and that they needed a different activity.

“Woof, well, I see I won’t have to spend much time teaching you guys humility. If I might ask everyone here, what lessons did you take away from that?” There was some grumbling, and one of the smart mouth students responded with “humility,” while another said they learned “what dirt tastes like,” which got a chuckle from some.

“Okay, let me ask you another question. During your matches, did any of you think that the spar was unfair.” I received many sarcastic answers and complaints. “I see, I see. Another question then. I want you to think about this. What did you wish you had during your spar that would have made the fight fair or, better yet, given you the advantage?”

That question took the kids longer to answer, a lot of “I don’t know.” And “Nothings.” But eventually, I got them thinking. “They were a year older than us.” “He was bigger than me.” “Better trained.” After some coaxing, I got them to tell me more specifics. “Stronger,” “Faster,” and “cool moves.” After that I got them going, “He kept messing with my feet”, “When she blocked my punch, I lost my balance”, “It was one hit after another, I could never fight back.”

After these statements, other students started criticizing each other, which I jumped on and changed to constructive criticism: “Perhaps your footwork needs practice.” “Keep in mind your balance when you deliver strikes.” “Don’t be afraid to make space between you two; get your opponent to exhaust themselves.”

Finally, it got to one of the more awkward problems. “They were a clan kid.”, “His older brother teaches him cool moves.” “They are just born better”. A problem I had growing up.

“I was the same at your age. They have such cool moves and get so much help. They learn tricks and tips from seniors. Ancient, secret techniques. Passed down in their powerful clans…Don’t you think they are so cool? Aren’t you happy that they live in the same village as you?” Some kids shrugged, and others rolled their eyes. “But…if I might ask…how do you think they do that?” I got a lot of questionable looks.

“It’s a secret.”

“That's good; we shouldn’t ask them directly. It would be very rude…” I paused momentarily, allowing the kids' anticipation to build up. “But, we are allowed to think about it, right?” I smiled to myself. These kids were about to discover why so many clans were not my biggest fans.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

***

The school had ended half an hour ago, and Idomizu was preparing to leave while bringing home papers to grade. Looking outside, he noticed a crowd of parents still waiting for the kids to depart class. Taking a second look, he realized they were the civilian parents of the fifth years.

Idomizu didn’t hear anyone in Amon's class, so he went back towards the field. There, he found Amon in front of some large earth dais. He was moving his hands like he was performing a puppet show, which had his students enthralled. Off towards the tree line, the shinobi parents were watching their kids, and a clone of Amon was speaking with them.

Heading over, Idomizu looked to check to see what Amon was doing with the kids. It looked like two miniature leaf shinobi fighting, no sparing in an arena with the kids dictating what the mini ninjas should do.

Making his way closer to the parents, Idomizu could start to hear what they were discussing. In Amon fashion, people were upset with him. “This is highly insulting, instructor Amon.” One of the parents, a chunin like Idomizu himself, spoke out. Many of the parents had faces of disinterest about the events that were transpiring, and many focused on their children or having minor discussions with another parent.

“I understand that nobody enjoys have that actions put under a micro scope, but I’m an instructor at the academy, I’m instructing.”

“You are prying into the secrets of your-”

“Careful how you finish that sentence before I make you prove it.”

“What seems to be the problem here?” Idomizu cut in.

“Amon is discussing ways to attack his fellow villager.” The shinobie accused.

Idomizu looked towards Amon, who shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Don’t you think you are boarding of treasonous actions? You are basically discussing the best way of attacking the village.” Idomizu's comments grabbed the attention of the other parents, but Idomizu couldn’t decipher the looks they were giving him. They were all flat like they were trying to hide their reactions, so they put a blank look on their faces, but they all kept their eyes on the three now.

“Meh, not really. I don’t see how this is much different from what you and the other instructors pushed for yesterday.”

“The student curriculum changed?” The chunin parent asked.

Amon went to answer, but Idomizu already had an excuse ready. “It was decided that fifth and sixth years should spar against one another every month, just so that if we pair students up into teams of mix-and-match years, they won’t be complete strangers to one another.”

“Yes, and I agreed to it. It widens the view of the students who might be too comfortable with fighting one another. Right now, I’m going over not only the spars they just had with their fellow students but am crowed sourcing ideas on what a common ninja should do when faced against the village's strongest.”

“You're discussing how to defeat your fellow shinobi. Also, aren’t you being a little too ahead of yourself? You, you, discussing how to defeat your fellow shinobie? Aren’t you just a medical ninja?”

“Yeah.” The parent from before chipped in. “Your nickname is “Paper Lantern.” What kinda name even is that?”

“Well…I mean, I am a jonin.”

“Yeah, but a Medical Jonin.” Idomizu retorted.

“Nope, Jonin Jonin. It's not medical or special, just Jonin. Also, you two are upset with me because I’m discussing something you think is inappropriate or that I’m too weak even to discuss the topic. Also, I said this when I came over here, but I’ll repeat myself. I’m just a mud clone. My real body won’t remember this conversation.”

“I think this concerned parent and I would like to see firsthand how proficient you are in the Taijutsu arts before you waste any more of these busy parents' time.”

The other parents looked more amused by the discussion than anything else but didn’t step in to stop what was happening.

“Well, I will concede your point; in my opinion, Taijutsu and chakra capacity are my two weakest aspects. I understand your lack of faith in me. If given the opportunity, I would love to cure you of your fears. Would the both of you like to test my capability now, and if so, in which way?”

“We will discuss this with your real version.” The parent chunin said.

“I doubt it,” Amon responded before walking alongside the two. Watching the miniatures spar, the kids yelled about how the shinobies should move and what attacks to perform while Amon pointed out the dangers and problems each would face if the fight continued.

“Amon!” Idomizu shouted over the crowd of kids, which finally grabbed their attention.

“Yes?” Amon responded, taking a look at his mud clone, walking up behind the two.

“This parent and I wish to see a demonstration of your Taijutsu skills personally,” Idomizu said, the parent in question smirking behind him.

Amon stage whispered towards his clone. “What did I do this time?” “They accused you of acting like a traitor and being weak.” Everyone in the field, the parents at the tree line and Hirazen in his office watching the events unfold, grimaced at Amon’s mud clone's blatant description. “Again?! For what?!”

“Again?” Idomizu and others asked.

“Yeah, it happens every once in a while. What was it this time?” Amon's mud clone pointed towards the miniatures who were paused in movement. “Really?” Amon looked at the miniature, the two chunin, and back at the miniatures. “Alright.” Amon looked at the two men. “Let's play my favorite game from when I was younger,” Amon said as he walked toward the academy’s sparing circle. Although fine for children, the circle was more than a bit tight for three grown men. “You two try to beat me up while I try not to get beaten up.” The two chunin looked at each other and then back at Amon. “Not the most creative game in the world I know, but over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

The two chunin looked at one another and then approached Amon, who already stood on the side of the sparring arena while making the seal of confrontation. “We will go until both of you are content with my Taijutsu skill, or I surrender. Is that good for the both of you?”

Idomizu looked towards the other chunin and nodded as they stepped into the arena. “That’s fine with us,” Idomizu said while they made the seal. Amon's mud clone came to the outside of the arena. The circle's diameter, only ten feet, made it a pretty small space. The smallest sparing arena outside the academy that saw regular use was thirty. The two chunin felt uncomfortable fighting in such close quarters but didn’t want to lose face in front of everyone. Amon’s mud clone raises his hand to signal both parties to get ready. After all three shinobi were in the circle and had the sign for confrontation up, the clone dropped his arm, starting the fight.

Idomizu and the parent struck fast, one aiming for Amon's head while the other his gut. Many ninjas in the village practiced the saying, “He who strikes first strikes last.” Amon took two steps on his ten o'clock, just to the side of Idomizu’s attack, while keeping his own textbook fighting stance up and ready to strike.

After missing, Idomizu and the parent tried to recover from their strike, but because of the small size of the arena, they found it difficult not to get in each other's way. They tried to get ready for Amon's counterattack, but it never came, as he only repositioned himself with his guard still up and his stance still the textbook-ready stance for combat. The two tried again to attack him at the same time, but the result was the same.

Every time Idomizu and the other Chunin attacked, together or separately, Amon dodged the strikes, moving around the arena deliberately and consistently with one foot on the ground. Amon’s posture was always straight, guard up, and with steady breathing, and rarely did either of the Chunin ever leave his line of sight.

The only times one of the two would get behind Amon was when they started using basic rather than advanced team tactics. Advanced tactics work best in larger areas and with other Justsu. They wouldn't work with only Taijutsu and in such a small space.

Even when the two chunin discovered this fact, neither could still land a hit on Amon. He wasn’t going faster then the two, if anything, Amon was moving slower than the both of them. Anyone watching the fight would discover the simple conclusion. Amon would just be where the other two weren’t. When the two move, a moment later, Amon would easily move to an empty space. Once they stopped to reposition themselves, Amon moved closer towards the circle's center and waited for the two there.

This continued for over ten minutes. The two Chunin began to run out of breath. Ten minutes of sparring was longer than either of the Chunin was used to.

In the ninja world, most fights to the death would usually end before ten minutes, as shinobi aimed for quick and lethal strikes. Instead, Amon carefully and deliberately did not throw a single punch or kick and stayed in a ready stance the whole time.

Before the two could try again, Amon spoke up. “I am sorry, gentlemen. If I haven’t convinced you two now that I am proficient in teaching Taijutsu, then there is not much I can do. I have to get ready to head to the hospital. Would the two of you mind if we leave things like this today?” Amon's mud clone, who had gotten bored and was lying on the ground, got back up in a hurray. “Instructor Amon has conceded the match. Defeat by forfeit.” Amon turned to face the students who had also sat on the ground to watch the match, all with surprised expressions from the match outcome. “Well, that was fun, kids. Make sure to get a good night's rest, and I will see you guys tomorrow.”

With a wave towards the parents, who were watching from the tree line, and a bow towards the two chunin, Amon made a hand sign and spoke, “Release.” With a puff of smoke, his shadow clone disappeared, and the mud clone merged back with the earth, leaving the two-winded chunin standing alone in the circle with everybody staring at them.