The courtyard was left behind amid light shoves and hurried footsteps.
"Hey, stop pushing!"
"Hurry up, the classroom's going to close!"
The Academy corridor echoed with childish voices and the uneven sound of sandals against the wooden floor. Light streamed in through the tall windows, forming bright bands that cut across the worn ground. Children crossed those shadows without noticing—some running, others stopping in the middle of the way to wait for a friend.
Ren moved along with the group, adjusting his pace to the flow. When someone stumbled, he sidestepped. When someone stopped suddenly, he slowed without drawing attention.
"Which classroom did you get?" Gaku Inuzuka asked, walking beside him.
"Don't know yet," Ren answered.
"Tch… hope it's close to the exit," Gaku muttered.
The sliding door opened with a dry sound.
"Inside. One at a time."
The classroom was familiar. Aligned desks, a blackboard marked with old scratches, the faint smell of chalk mixed with aged wood. Some children rushed to sit together before the "good" seats were taken.
"Over here, Chōbee!" Gaku called, slapping the desk beside him.
"I'm coming…" Chōbee Akimichi replied, already out of breath, balancing a bag far too big for him.
Near the window, Kohari Aoyama sat in silence, posture far too proper for her age. Two rows back, Ikkaku Umino talked nonstop.
"My dad said the second year separates who's fit to be a ninja from who's not."
"He says that every year," Shinku Yūhi muttered without looking up.
Ren passed them and chose a seat in the middle of the room. Neutral ground.
At the front, Hiashi Hyūga sat with his back perfectly straight, eyes fixed forward. Beside him, Hizashi Hyūga scanned the room with open curiosity, his gaze jumping between students and windows.
"Are they twins?" Kenta Sarutobi whispered, nudging Ren.
"I think so," Ren replied.
Further back, Reiji Nara was practically sprawled over his desk, staring at the ceiling.
"I'm already tired," he muttered. "This should be illegal."
"Shut up," Masaru Uchiha said flatly, arms crossed. "The teacher's going to hear."
"Doubt it," Reiji replied, turning away.
In the opposite corner, Shin Shimura remained completely silent, alert to everything, while Atsuo Kanzaki spun a pencil between his fingers until it slipped and hit the floor.
"Damn it…"
The door slid shut abruptly.
The chatter died.
"Sit."
The instructor entered without introducing himself. A chūnin. His eyes swept across the room as if counting something invisible.
"Second year," he said, writing on the board. "You had your vacations. I hope you enjoyed them, because now the real work begins."
He turned suddenly.
"Simple question," he said, pointing the chalk at the class. "What happens when chakra is released in an unbalanced way?"
Silence.
"No one?"
Chōbee raised his hand hesitantly.
"Uh… you get tired?"
"That's a consequence," the instructor replied. "Not the answer."
Several children shrank in their seats.
"You," the chalk pointed at Ikkaku Umino.
"It… goes wrong?" he guessed.
A few restrained laughs.
"Wrong how?"
Ikkaku froze.
The instructor sighed.
"It can cause loss of control, jutsu failure, or damage to your own body," he said. "That's first-year basics."
Reiji yawned, resting his face on his hand.
"Another question," the instructor continued. "What's the difference between physical chakra and spiritual chakra?"
Silence again.
The instructor's gaze moved across the room… and stopped on Ren.
"You. Answer."
Ren felt a few eyes turn toward him. He kept his expression neutral.
"Physical chakra comes from the body's energy," he said calmly. "Spiritual chakra comes from the mind and experience."
"And what happens if one dominates the other?"
Ren paused briefly. Just long enough to seem natural.
"Control becomes unstable."
The instructor stared at him for an extra second.
"Correct."
A few murmurs followed.
"Hey…" Gaku whispered. "You really know this stuff."
Ren shrugged.
"I just remember the lessons."
The instructor tapped the board with the chalk.
"Take out the scrolls."
A chorus of complaints rose instantly.
"Today?"
"But it's the first day!"
"Exactly," the instructor replied flatly. "Diagnostic test. I want to know what you forgot over the break."
The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately.
Scrolls were handed out. Ink. Brushes.
"Ten questions. Short answers. If you don't know, don't invent."
Ren unrolled the scroll carefully.
Question one: Define chakra.
Question three: Explain the basic function of hand seals.
Question seven: What happens when the body enters chakra exhaustion?
Around him, reactions varied.
Chōbee scratched his head, sweating.
Gaku chewed on his brush, restless.
Kohari wrote with absolute calm.
Hiashi answered from memory.
Reiji stared at the ceiling, deciding if answering everything was worth it.
Ren wrote slowly. Missed a tiny detail on purpose. Simplified answers he could have expanded. Enough to do well—never enough to stand out.
"Time," the instructor announced.
Collective groans.
"Hand them in."
The instructor gathered the scrolls, skimming a few quickly.
When he reached Ren's, he paused for half a second.
He said nothing.
"Class dismissed. Tomorrow, bring all required materials," he said. "And don't expect leniency just because it's the start of the year."
The children stood in a burst of movement.
"A test on the first day is messed up!"
"I did so bad!"
"I forgot everything!"
Ren left with the group, blending into the voices.
"Do you think he'll grade them today?" Gaku asked.
"Hope not," Reiji answered for him.
Outside, the sky remained clear, indifferent to childish anxiety.
Ren took a deep breath.
The second year had begun the right way.
No warnings.
No comfort.
With expectations made clear.
Invisible lines were being drawn.
And he was exactly where he needed to be.