Naruto: The Beast Within

The academy grounds were eerily quiet, a strange stillness hanging in the air as the students prepared for their first real test. The anticipation of the exams was palpable, but Raimu couldn't help but feel a bit detached from all of it. The other students were fidgeting, checking their gear, whispering to each other, their faces a mixture of nervous excitement. Meanwhile, Raimu was lounging on the grass outside the exam room, wrapped in his favorite hoodie, the fabric soft and comforting against his skin. His golden eyes were half-lidded, gazing lazily at the cloudless sky.

"Hey, Rai," one of his classmates called out, trying to catch his attention. "Aren't you nervous? This is the big exam, man."

Raimu didn't even blink. He shifted slightly, letting out a soft, exaggerated yawn as he stretched his arms above his head. His sleepy, drowsy energy was infectious—his voice was quiet, yet perfectly audible. "Nervous? Nah, I'm just… saving my energy for the real fun." He flashed a half-smile, knowing full well that his nonchalance was irritating his peers. It was like he didn't take anything seriously, but in truth, he had his own way of dealing with pressure.

"Yeah, but…" his classmate trailed off, unsure what to say, but Raimu wasn't paying attention anymore. His mind drifted off, thoughts hazy like a gentle breeze.

Time passed. The sun hung lazily in the sky, and the students filed into the exam room, one by one. The atmosphere inside was more intense, the energy sharper as the teachers called them into position.

The air in the exam room is thick with tension as each student waits for their turn. Some are pacing nervously, others trying to calm themselves. The exam isn't something anyone can take lightly, especially not for someone like Raimu, who's had more than his fair share of challenges. But today, he's determined to take it all in stride.

The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the cameras that monitor every movement. Each student's test is different, and the monitors in a separate room show everyone's progress. For the students, but mostly for the Shinobi Higher-Ups.

The whole academy is watching—well, everyone except him. The pressure isn't there… not yet, at least.

Raimu, on the other hand, leans back against the wall and remains mostly calm, lounging against a corner, his eyes half-lidded, golden eyes shimmering with a sleepy, distant glow.

"Next, Raimu Mitsukawa," the examiner calls.

When the door opens, and he's called into the testing chamber, a small smile plays at the corners of his lips. Another exam, another chance to show that maybe being "the Mitsukawa heir" doesn't mean much if you don't have the right kind of presence. If anything, he's here to prove something different: That strength doesn't always come from being loud or forceful.

"Raimu Mitsukawa, your test begins now," the instructor's voice echoes through the room as the door clicks shut behind him.

He rolls his shoulders, stretching like a cat. He stifles a yawn, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, the long, tousled locks of his hair swaying with the movement. Despite the atmosphere being charged with anticipation, he remains unfazed.

"Ahhh," he sighs, "Time to get this over with." His voice is slow and drowsy, as though he were simply preparing for a nap rather than an exam that could determine his future.

The exam room doors open, and Raimu steps in, letting the door fall shut behind him with a soft thud. The space is filled with rows of combat dummies—each different from the other. Some stand still, their lifeless eyes fixed on him, while others twitch and shift slightly, as though ready to pounce at any moment. Weapons are scattered across the floor, some glowing with faint chakra. It's a strange combination of both modern and ancient training methods.

"Looks like a game..." Raimu murmurs, surveying the scene. His golden eyes flit across the room, taking in the patterns of movement and the placement of weapons. He exhales slowly, more out of habit than nervousness. 

The proctor's voice crackles through a hidden speaker. "You will face these combat dummies that are programmed to test your skills in battle. Some will attack. Some will defend. Others will adapt. The goal is to defeat them using strategy, adaptation, and resourcefulness. You have ten minutes. Begin."

"Ah, well, this should be fun," he mutters to himself, leaning forward to crack his neck. A playful grin dances across his face as he yawns. His relaxed demeanor seems out of place, almost as if he's not in the middle of a high-stakes test.

As the timer starts, the first dummy lunges at him, swinging a sword in an aggressive arc. Raimu doesn't move, not at first. His golden eyes follow the motion lazily, studying it.

Raimu stood in the center of the training room, feeling the weight of the eyes on him, yet he remained unbothered—almost too calm.

The first phase of the exam had begun, and in front of him, a series of combat dummies had been activated. 

a lazy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. He stretched, then let his golden eyes shift to the first dummy, a humanoid figure with a sword raised.

He didn't need to move fast; in fact, he didn't want to. Why rush when he could let his beasts do the work for him?

With a flick of his fingers, his chakra stirs, the air around him shifting as he summons his first beast—a stone creature, about the size of a large dog, its body made of dark grey rock, with sharp-edged claws and a sturdy form. It moves silently at his command, positioning itself between him and the advancing dummies. Raimu's beasts, unlike those of others, are not abstract shadows but creatures of substance—elemental beings born from his will, strong and capable in their own right.

The stone creature blocks the first swing of a sword-wielding dummy, the blade bouncing off its rocky exterior with a dull thud. Raimu raises an eyebrow, watching the dummy's reaction. The other dummies hesitate, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected resistance.

Instead of charging in like the others would, Raimu lets the beast handle the heavy lifting. He summons a second creature—this time a small, sleek water elemental, its body flowing like liquid but as solid as ice where needed. It rushes toward the sword-wielding dummy, using the water to swirl around the sword and disarm the opponent with ease. The dummy freezes, momentarily stuck in confusion, allowing the water creature to knock it over with a powerful surge.

Raimu remains where he is, hardly breaking a sweat. The dummies are not a threat to him—not if he controls the battlefield.

He raises a hand, summoning a third beast: a swirling gust of air, about the size of a human, light and flexible, darting around the combatants like a whirlwind. It moves swiftly, dodging the slower movements of the remaining dummies, creating openings for the stone and water beasts to strike.

"You're gonna have to do better than that," Raimu mutters under his breath, grinning lazily as he watches the dummies fall one by one.

His creatures move in perfect harmony, and despite the dummies' relentless attacks, Raimu doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. His movements are calm, fluid, like he's playing a game. His relaxed demeanor makes it look effortless, but it's a show of both strategy and confidence. Every move is calculated, each beast perfectly placed.

One by one, the dummies drop, defeated not by brute force, but by the careful, strategic play of his chakra beasts, working together like pieces on a board. The timer buzzes again, signaling the end of the first phase. Raimu stretches again, a yawn escaping his lips as he watches the last dummy crumble to the floor.

But before he has time to breathe, the room shifts, the ground beneath him rumbling as the next phase begins. The walls around him darken, and the air grows heavier. The test was far from over.

The second phase of the exam begins with a sudden shift in the environment.

"Woah..."

Raimu's half-lidded eyes scan the battlefield as a low hum vibrates through the air. He knows what's coming before it even happens. The ground trembles beneath him, shifting unnaturally as the sterile exam room warps, breaking apart like fragile glass.

He exhales through his nose.

In an instant, jagged mountains rise from the ground, shooting up like stone spears. The terrain morphs violently, leaving uneven footing, sharp inclines, and steep cliffs that weren't there before. The air becomes thinner, the wind howling between the peaks.

Raimu clicks his tongue. Not ideal.

His body feels the change immediately—every movement slightly heavier from the altitude, the uneven footing forcing him to adjust. He doesn't have time to think. The dummies scattered throughout the mountains activate, moving like real enemies, weapons drawn.

He needs something strong. Something stable.

His hand flicks up, and from the ground, a towering stone golem rises. Not smooth, not polished—this thing is a walking boulder, its massive limbs built for balance on unstable ground.

The first dummy lunges. The golem reacts instantly, bringing down a massive stone fist that shatters the dummy in a single hit. But Raimu doesn't get a chance to relax—two more dummies rush in, moving faster than he expected.

One of them actually gets close. Too close.

Tch—!

Raimu barely sidesteps, feeling the rush of wind as the blade grazes his hoodie. His golden eyes snap open a little more now. Okay. No more half-effort.

He leaps back onto a flat section of rock, heart picking up speed.

The golem crushes another dummy, but the fight isn't over. The terrain is against him—sharp cliffs, unstable footing, and the higher he moves, the thinner the air becomes. He grits his teeth. If he stays like this, he'll burn out before the exam even ends.

Then the battlefield shifts again.

A deep rumble echoes across the landscape as the rocky cliffs sink away, dissolving into the earth.

Raimu barely gets his footing before he sinks knee-deep into water. His breath hitches. The entire battlefield has become a swamp, thick with mud, murky water, and vines curling around the edges. The air becomes damp, clinging to his skin like a second layer.

And then—

The golem collapses.

Its weight drags it down, the stone sinking into the wet earth like an anchor. Raimu curses under his breath. The thing was built for solid ground, and now it's completely useless.

The dummies don't wait.

They're already moving, darting across the murky terrain like predators, their movements unhindered. Meanwhile, Raimu's stuck, body heavy from the thick mud, each step taking twice the effort.

For the first time, his breath comes out sharp.

He doesn't have time to think—just react. He forces his chakra forward, his fingers twitching as his next beast takes shape.

This time, it's a massive wooden construct, woven from thick, intertwining vines and gnarled bark. It moves fluidly, like something born from the swamp, its root-like legs shifting effortlessly over the muddy terrain.

Raimu inhales deeply. That's better.

The moment his new beast takes form, he moves with it. He doesn't have time to stand still. A dummy lunges from the water—he ducks, barely dodging the blade. Another one comes from behind—his beast reacts, a thick root whipping forward and impaling it into a tree trunk.

But it's still not enough. There are too many.

Raimu's breath comes faster now, sweat forming at the back of his neck. His beast isn't enough on its own. He actually has to move, to fight, to keep up.

His hands flick up, guiding his wooden construct into a rapid series of strikes, its massive limbs smashing dummies into the swamp. One manages to dodge, getting dangerously close—Raimu twists his body, the knife barely grazing his ribs.

Too close.

And then, the terrain shifts again.

The swamp drains away in an instant, the damp air replaced by a dry, suffocating heat.

Raimu stumbles, his footing completely thrown off as the ground beneath him becomes sand. An endless desert.

His wooden construct withers instantly in the arid air, the moisture sucked out of it before it can even move.

Raimu actually curses out loud this time.

He forces himself to stay standing, his body aching now. His muscles feel the effort—every change in terrain forcing him to summon, adapt, push himself. This isn't some passive test.

It's a war of attrition.

Raimu swipes his arm, chakra flaring as his stone golem returns, but this time, it's altered—its body reinforced, compacted, built for sand instead of rock. The thing moves slower, but it doesn't sink.

He barely has time to breathe before another wave of dummies charges at him.

His legs burn now. Every step feels heavier.

He's been dodging, summoning, adapting—but the shifts are getting faster now, not giving him time to rest. He forces himself forward anyway, controlling his breath, pushing through the exhaustion creeping up his limbs.

His golem slams a dummy into the ground, but another one gets close—too close—and for the first time—

Raimu actually has to block.

His arm clashes against the dummy's weapon, the impact sending a dull ache up his bones. His eyes flicker, sharp with adrenaline.

This isn't easy.

And that fact annoys him.

His breath comes out in a slow, controlled exhale. His heartbeat pounds in his ears.

This is the last push.

His stone golem slams its fists into the remaining dummies, sending them crashing into the dunes. The sand kicks up in thick clouds, obscuring everything—but then the silence settles.

Nothing else moves.

It's over.

Raimu doesn't move for a moment. Just stands there, his chest rising and falling, his hands still lightly curled from battle. His golem stands beside him, its body now cracked and unstable, barely holding form after the last round.

Raimu finally lets out a breath.

"…Damn."

His voice is low, a little rougher than before.

He rolls his shoulders, wincing slightly as he feels the dull ache of exertion setting in.

And above him, in the observation room, the higher-ups are silent for a long moment.

Then—

"He adapted to every terrain. He struggled, but he adjusted. His control over his chakra beasts… his ability to readjust, mid-battle…"

One of the examiners leans forward, eyes sharp with interest.

"He's not just some lazy genius."

"He's a monster in disguise."

His golden eyes flick up toward the sky.

"…Could've been worse."

And with that, he collapses onto the warm sand, arms behind his head, letting himself rest for the first time.