Naruto: This Genius is Somewhat Ordinary-Chapter 422

Aizen stopped walking.

He frowned slightly as the situation spiraled, clearly meaning to step in and smooth things over. The invitation had been meant to elevate Fujimoto Tōma’s reputation, not paint a target on his back.

Tōma’s personal outcome didn’t worry him.

His image did.

At least, not yet.

But before Aizen could speak, Tōma glanced at the student who had challenged him, then slowly swept his gaze across the others hovering nearby, eyes burning with barely concealed ambition.

He understood them.

They weren’t stupid. They knew that anyone personally noticed by a captain was probably far beyond their level. Even so, this was Soul Society. Opportunities like this didn’t come twice.

If there was even a one percent chance...

They would gamble.

Understanding didn’t mean sympathy.

Weak people didn’t get to complain about the rules of the world. If Tōma had been weak, he’d have been torn down just as eagerly.

"I accept your challenge," Tōma said calmly.

"Also..."

His eyes moved over the crowd. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"If anyone else has the same idea, step forward now."

Silence.

Then uneasy glances.

Then movement.

One by one, more students stepped out.

Some hoped to win.

Others hoped to survive long enough to take advantage when Tōma was exhausted.

"Anyone else?" Tōma asked again.

"Enough already," the first challenger snapped. "Let’s start!"

Tōma smiled.

"Relax."

He raised his sword, still sheathed, and casually pointed it at everyone standing opposite him.

"All of you at once," he said. "Let’s save time."

The atmosphere froze.

Even Renji and the others behind Aizen stiffened.

Renji knew better than anyone how terrifying Tōma was. He’d challenged him repeatedly and lost instantly every time. Still, this wasn’t one opponent.

This was dozens of graduates.

"That’s insulting!" the lead student shouted.

"If you come one by one, you have zero chance," Tōma replied, smoothing a wrinkle from his sleeve. "This way, at least you get the illusion of possibility."

The challenger hesitated.

Deep down, he knew Tōma was right. But if they fought together... would Captain Aizen acknowledge that victory?

Behind them, Aizen studied Tōma’s blade.

Something about its length was wrong.

Not a sealed sword.

A constant-release type.

So he’d already achieved release.

Interesting.

Aizen smiled.

"Well then," he said gently, "if anyone defeats Fujimoto Tōma today, I’ll personally accept all outstanding performers into the Fifth Division."

The field exploded.

More students rushed forward, eyes blazing. Tōma had instantly transformed into a stepping stone toward their future.

Tōma glanced at Aizen, then nodded slightly.

That helped.

The space cleared. Nonparticipants were ushered away, leaving an open field.

Several captains watched with mild curiosity. Graduation ceremonies rarely offered entertainment like this.

The original challenger grinned.

"Sorry about this," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I have to join the Fifth Division."

"Don’t worry," Tōma replied, smiling back as both hands settled on his sword. "This will be quick."

"Third Form."

"Wild Rain Cut."

Tōma vanished.

Even Aizen’s eyes sharpened.

That step speed was no joke.

The students panicked, scanning wildly.

Then something strange happened.

Rain began to fall.

Under a perfectly clear sky.

"Ahhh!"

Screams erupted as the first drops landed.

The challenger stared in horror. Each droplet glimmered faintly with chakra-light.

Blades.

The rain itself was made of slashes.

He shouted a warning, but it didn’t matter.

You couldn’t block rain.

Sword swings couldn’t cover every angle.

Ninjutsu evaporated on contact.

Those without overwhelming pressure were helpless.

Students collapsed one after another, screaming, trying to flee the rainfall.

But whenever someone moved, the droplets above them flared—

—and they fell.

The rain ended quickly.

Because everyone was already down.

Only one student remained standing.

The challenger.

Not because he was stronger.

But because the rain had deliberately avoided him.

Tōma reappeared among the fallen, tilting his head.

"Just you left."

The words landed like a death sentence.

"One correction," Tōma added calmly. "That wasn’t rain mixed with my slashes."

He turned away.

"Every drop was a blade."

"You’ve already lost."

As he walked toward the Fourth Division booth, the challenger stared at his arms.

The places where rain had touched him split open.

Blood poured out.

The loudest scream followed.

Tōma didn’t look back.

Wild Rain Cut was inspired by Kuchiki Byakuya’s Senbonzakura.

If Byakuya had been present, he might’ve recognized it.

Sadly, he wasn’t.

The captains who were present were stunned.

Speed.

Pressure.

Precision.

Each alone was elite. Combined, they were absurd.

Renji clenched his fists.

All this time, Tōma hadn’t even bothered drawing his blade against him.

Because he didn’t need to.

Aizen watched quietly.

He’d invited Tōma because of his potential.

Now he realized that potential was even greater than expected.

Which was thrilling.

And annoying.

That lazy indifference reminded him of another genius.

Urahara Kisuke.

Talents like these always had problems.

With a faint chuckle, Aizen turned and left.

Back at the Fourth Division booth, the registrar stared at Tōma like he’d seen a ghost.

"...You’re really joining us?"

"Absolutely," Tōma said.

"...Right."

He was escorted to the Fourth Division captain.

Unohana Retsu.

Gentle eyes. Soft smile. Long braided hair.

And something terrifying underneath.

For a brief moment, Tōma felt as though he was standing before a mountain of corpses.

Then it vanished.

"Your application is accepted," Unohana said calmly. "We currently have an open Third Seat."

She looked at him.

"Would you like it?"

"Is it busy?" Tōma asked.

"...Not particularly."

"Then sure."

The registrar nearly choked.

And just like that, Fujimoto Tōma joined the Fourth Division.

Exactly where he wanted to be.

A place to heal.

A place to hide.

A place to quietly sharpen his blade.