Naruto: This Genius is Somewhat Ordinary-Chapter 417

Shinobi Academy Dormitory.

Fujimoto Tōma sat cross-legged on his bed, a plain training sword resting across his knees.

His eyes were closed. His breathing was slow. His chakra flowed in steady, controlled waves.

He had entered a deep synchronization state.

Not meditation. Not sleep.

A focused, deliberate attempt to align his will with the weapon in his hands.

Technically, from the moment he first picked up this blade, he had already been strong enough to force a response from it. With his chakra density, he could have torn open its inner world and dragged its spirit out by sheer pressure alone.

But he didn’t.

A weapon like this wasn’t disposable.

It would follow him for years. Possibly for life.

And more importantly...

It had a will of its own.

So instead of brute-forcing it, Tōma took the long road. He washed the blade with his chakra day after day, imprinting it with his presence, his rhythm, his intent. Letting it get used to him. Letting it decide whether to accept him.

His chakra was too strong. Too dense.

Which meant the process, ironically, went faster than it should have.

By his last synchronization session, he had already felt it.

That quiet pressure at the edge of his mind.

The blade was ready.

Now, once again, he guided his chakra through the sword.

And the world shifted.

When Tōma opened his eyes, he was no longer in his dorm room.

A woman stood in front of him.

She wore a black formal kimono, her long hair falling straight down her back like a curtain of ink. Her expression was calm, but her gaze was sharp.

"...So you finally decided to come see me," Tōma said casually.

She exhaled, almost like she’d been expecting this.

"You could’ve come much earlier."

"I know," Tōma replied. "But forcing things leaves a bad aftertaste."

"...That’s your excuse?"

"If you were just a tool, I’d have done it," he said flatly. "But you’re not."

She folded her arms.

"So what am I? A long-term tool?"

"Yes," Tōma said without hesitation. "A weapon that stays with me. And if you want, a partner."

Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

"But understand this first."

He looked straight at her.

"I’m the one holding the sword."

Silence.

The pressure in the air spiked.

The woman’s pupils tightened. She felt it instantly.

That overwhelming chakra density pressing against her existence like a mountain lowering itself onto her shoulders.

If she said no...

She was certain she would shatter.

"...You really are a monster," she muttered.

Then she smiled.

"...Fine. You’re the master."

The pressure vanished.

Her shoulders loosened.

"Then, Master," she said softly, "call my name."

She paused, then added quietly,

"People don’t see themselves in flowing water.

They see themselves in still water."

Tōma’s chest tightened.

The words clicked into place on their own.

"...Clear Mirror. Still Water."

The moment he spoke the name, the sword on his lap erupted with pale white light.

Its shape twisted. Refined. Sharpened.

When the glow faded, a strange, elegant blade rested in his hands. Dark-edged steel. Simple, clean lines. Balanced perfectly for speed and precision.

"...So that’s it," Tōma murmured.

Clear Mirror, Still Water.

The ability flowed into his mind naturally.

It wasn’t flashy.

It didn’t create storms or explosions.

It did one thing.

It stilled his mind completely. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

No fear.

No hesitation.

No emotional noise.

His perception sharpened until the world felt transparent.

No illusions.

No visual tricks.

No feints.

Everything was exactly where it truly was.

"...So it’s a perfect-clarity state," he muttered. "A sixth-sense combat mode."

He smiled faintly.

This was exactly his kind of power.

No borrowed strength.

No external crutches.

Just him, refined to the edge.

"...Can I enter this state without you?" he wondered out loud.

The woman sighed.

"Of course that’s your first thought."

She studied him for a moment.

"...Do you want to go further?" she asked.

Tōma blinked.

"Further? You mean a full release already?"

"You don’t need a warm-up phase," she said calmly.

"...Yeah," Tōma admitted. "That tracks."

"Then allow me one request first."

She snapped her fingers.

A sword appeared in her hands.

Identical to his.

"...Fight me."

Tōma raised an eyebrow.

"...Fair."

Her kimono shifted into a fitted combat outfit.

They faced each other.

And vanished at the same time.

Steel met steel.

Clang.

Tōma deliberately sealed his chakra output down to match hers. No ninjutsu. No Body Flicker. No raw power advantage.

Just fundamentals.

They traded dozens of clean, precise exchanges.

But from the first ten seconds, the outcome was already decided.

Tōma’s base sword skill was simply better.

Her blade flew from her grip.

His sword stopped an inch from her throat.

"...I lost," she admitted quietly.

"Again."

She stared.

"...You want me as a sparring partner?"

"Exactly."

Her lips curved into a small smile.

They reset.

Tōma inhaled.

And disappeared.

Not a flicker.

Not a blur.

Just gone.

A thunder-crack rang out.

She barely raised her sword in time.

Snap.

Her blade shattered mid-block.

Tōma stood in front of her.

His sword rested gently against her neck.

"...What was that?" she asked softly.

"First Form," he replied.

"Thunder Flash."

She exhaled.

"...So this is your real speed."

"...And I still haven’t gone all out."

She laughed weakly.

"I surrender, Master."

Her body dissolved into light and flowed into the blade.

The world snapped back.

Tōma opened his eyes in his dorm room.

The sword on his lap pulsed once.

Then settled.

"...So that’s done."

He closed his fingers around the hilt.

"Release complete."

"And..."

"...Full release unlocked."