[ Ken Shimura POV ]
I stared at the notification, reading it three times to make sure I hadn't misunderstood.
Cross Tail. The wire-based Imperial Arms from Akame ga Kill. Lubbock's weapon.
A thin, nearly invisible thread made from dragon intestines—or whatever mystical material this system had replicated—that could cut through steel, bind opponents, set traps, and function as both offensive and defensive equipment.
Incredibly versatile. Potentially devastating in the right hands.
Also completely impossible to explain.
"Of course," I muttered, dismissing the notification with a swipe.
A new window appeared, showing detailed specifications. The Cross Tail manifested as a glove connected to spools of wire thin enough to be invisible to the naked eye. Combat applications included binding, cutting, trap-setting, mobility enhancement via grappling, and defensive formations.
Maximum wire length: 200 meters per spool.
Tensile strength: Sufficient to support significant weight and resist most conventional cutting attempts.
Special property: Near-invisible in most lighting conditions.
I reached toward the glowing interface, and the gloves materialized in my palm with a faint shimmer. They were lighter than expected that fit comfortably on my index fingers. The wire spools were integrated so seamlessly I could barely detect their presence.
I slipped the gloves on, feeling the subtle weight settle.
Now what?
The system provided basic operational knowledge—how to deploy the wire, how to control tension, basic manipulation techniques. But knowing how something worked and actually using it effectively were two very different things.
I stood, moving to the center of my room, and extended my right index finger.
The wire shot out, nearly invisible in the dim light, and struck the opposite wall with a soft thwip. I tried to retract it. The wire coiled back smoothly, disappearing.
Again. Deploy, retract. Deploy, retract.
The motion became easier with each repetition, muscle memory forming rapidly.
I spent the next hour experimenting—wrapping the wire around furniture, testing tension limits, practicing quick deployments and retractions. The thread was absurdly strong. I could support my full body weight hanging from a wire anchored to my ceiling beam without any strain on the material.
But control was the real challenge.
Deploying wire in straight lines was simple. Creating complex patterns, multiple simultaneous deployments, precision cutting—those required finesse I didn't have yet.
I glanced at the clock. Past midnight.
Tomorrow was a regular Academy day. I needed sleep.
I retracted all the wire, removed the glove, and placed them carefully in my desk drawer beneath a stack of old notebooks. Hidden, but accessible.
The system had given me a weapon I couldn't openly use. Great.
Just another secret to manage.
---
[ Academy - Next Morning ]
The classroom buzzed with residual energy from yesterday's competition.
I arrived early, taking my usual seat near the window, and immediately noticed the shift in atmosphere. Students who'd barely acknowledged my existence before now shot glances my way—some curious, some measuring, a few outright hostile.
Defeating Sasuke had consequences.
"Ken!" Naruto bounded over, grinning widely. "That was so cool yesterday! You totally showed that teme who's boss!"
"It was just a match," I said, keeping my tone neutral.
"Just a match? You beat Sasuke Uchiha!" Naruto dropped into the seat beside me, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Everyone's talking about it. Even the upper-year students."
That's what I was afraid of.
More attention meant more scrutiny. More scrutiny meant more questions. More questions meant more opportunities for things to go wrong.
The door slid open and Iruka-sensei entered, followed immediately by—
My stomach sank.
Mizuki-sensei walked in behind Iruka, carrying a stack of papers and wearing his usual pleasant smile. The man who would eventually betray the village, manipulate Naruto, and attempt to steal the Scroll of Seals.
Right now, he was just an Academy instructor. Trusted. Respected.
Dangerous.
"Good morning, everyone!" Iruka's voice cut through the chatter. "Settle down. We have a lot to cover today."
Students shuffled to their seats. Sasuke entered last, his expression carefully neutral, and took his place without looking at anyone. Sakura and Ino immediately started whispering to each other, shooting glances between Sasuke and me.
"Before we begin regular lessons," Iruka continued, "I want to congratulate Ken Shimura for his victory in yesterday's competition."
Polite applause rippled through the classroom. I nodded acknowledgment, keeping my expression modest.
"However," Iruka's tone shifted slightly, "I also want to remind everyone that individual victories don't mean much in the shinobi world. Teamwork, cooperation, and mutual support are what keep us alive in the field."
His eyes found mine, holding for a moment longer than necessary.
Message received. Don't let it go to your head.
"Now then," Iruka gestured to Mizuki, who began distributing papers, "today we're covering advanced shuriken techniques. Mizuki-sensei will be assisting with practical demonstrations."
The lesson proceeded normally—theory first, then practical application in the training yard. I participated without standing out, hitting targets with acceptable but not exceptional accuracy.
Blending in was harder now. People expected more after yesterday's performance.
During a water break, Mizuki approached me.
"Ken," his smile was warm, friendly, "excellent work yesterday. That technique you used against Sasuke, it's not something of standard Academy curriculum."
I kept my expression neutral. "I learned it from a friend."
"Must be a skilled friend." Mizuki's eyes gleamed with what might have been genuine interest or something darker. "You know, if you're interested in learning more advanced techniques, I sometimes do private tutoring sessions. Students with potential shouldn't be held back by standard curriculum pacing."
Every instinct screamed warning.
"Thank you, Mizuki-sensei," I said carefully, "but I'm still working on mastering the basics. Wouldn't want to overextend myself."
"Modest and practical." Mizuki chuckled. "Good qualities. But don't sell yourself short. You have real talent." He patted my shoulder and moved on to other students.
I watched him go, mind churning.
Mizuki was recruiting. Looking for students he could manipulate, students with potential he could exploit. In the original timeline, Naruto had been his target. Now, apparently, I'd caught his attention too.
Great. Another problem to manage.
---
[ Training Ground 3 - After Academy ]
Lee was already there when I arrived, going through a kata with focused intensity.
"Shimura-san!" He finished his sequence and turned, grinning. "Congratulations on your victory! I heard about your match with Sasuke-san!"
"Thanks. Your technique made the difference."
"No, no!" Lee shook his head vigorously. "The technique is just a tool. You wielded it with skill and determination! That victory was entirely yours!"
I set down my bag and pulled out the Cross Tail glove, slipping them onto my fingers.
Lee's eyes immediately locked onto them. "What are those?"
"Training equipment," I said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "Wire manipulation tools. I wanted to practice incorporating wire techniques into my taijutsu."
"Ah!" Lee's expression brightened. "Wire techniques are excellent for controlling engagement distance and creating tactical advantages! Gai-sensei will approve you using wire in your Dynamic Entry!"
I extended my finger, deploying a length of wire and wrapping it around a nearby tree branch. "I'm still learning the basics. Thought you might have some insights on mobility applications."
For the next two hours, we trained.
Lee's enthusiasm was infectious and his tactical mind sharper than people gave him credit for. He suggested using wire to enhance movement during combat—creating anchor points for rapid direction changes, setting up perimeter traps that could funnel opponents into disadvantageous positions, even using wire tension to gauge an enemy's position by feel.
"The key," Lee explained, demonstrating a complex footwork pattern, "is making the wire an extension of your body! Not just a tool you deploy, but part of your natural movement!"
I practiced the pattern—step, deploy, anchor, pivot, retract—until my legs burned and sweat soaked through my shirt.
The wire became more intuitive with each repetition. Deploy from the right hand while moving left, creating angular pressure. Anchor high and swing low. Quick deployments for defensive formations.
"Better!" Lee called out. "Your timing improves! But remember—in real combat, opponents won't stand still like training posts!"
"Want to help me test that?"
Lee's grin widened. "Yosh! Let's have a friendly sparring match!"
We squared off, and Lee came in fast—not quite full speed, but enough to pressure me.
I deployed wire defensively, creating a loose web between us. Lee adapted instantly, weaving through gaps, testing my reaction time.
I anchored wire to a tree, pulled myself laterally, and came in from an unexpected angle. Lee blocked, countered, forced me to reset.
The sparring continued—him pushing my speed and adaptability, me testing wire applications under pressure.
Finally, we broke apart, both breathing hard.
"Excellent progress!" Lee said, completely genuine. "Your wire technique shows great promise! With continued practice, it could become a formidable asset!"
I retracted all the wire, catching my breath. "Thanks for the help."
"Of course! Training together makes us both stronger!" Lee paused, then added more quietly, "Shimura-san... may I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why do you train so seriously?" His expression was curious, open. "You work harder than most Academy students. Harder than some genin I know. But you always seem... focused on something beyond just becoming stronger."
The question caught me off guard.
I could deflect. Give some generic answer about wanting to protect the village or honor my family name.
But Lee had been nothing but genuine with me. He deserved better than empty platitudes.
"I have someone I need to protect," I said finally. "Someone who sacrificed a lot for me. Training seriously... it's insurance. Making sure I have the strength to keep her safe when it matters."
Lee's eyes brightened with understanding and approval. "That is a wonderful reason! The strength to protect precious people—that is the true meaning of power!"
He bowed formally. "I am honored to train with someone who carries such noble purpose!"
I bowed back, feeling oddly uncomfortable with the earnest admiration.
We trained for another hour before parting ways.
---
[ Shimura Residence - Evening ]
Aunt Yuki was home again, which was becoming a pattern I couldn't quite figure out.
"You're taking a lot of evenings off lately," I observed, setting my bag down.
She looked up from the medical journal she was reading. "Traded shifts with a colleague. Figured you might appreciate having dinner together more often."
Something in her tone made me pause. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine." She closed the journal. "Can't I just want to spend time with my nephew?"
I studied her face, looking for tells. She met my gaze evenly, expression open.
"Dinner's almost ready," she continued. "Bought takeout this time. Figured we'd both appreciate something edible."
We ate dinner, talked about inconsequential things. Academy gossip, hospital stories.
Later, after Aunt Yuki went to bed, I returned to my room and pulled out the Cross Tail gloves.
The system interface appeared automatically.
*[ Daily Training Quest Available ]*
*[ Quest: Wire Mastery Fundamentals ]*
*[ Objective: Complete 1000 successful wire deployments and retractions ]*
*[ Objective: Create 50 different wire formations ]*
*[ Objective: Maintain a wire trap formation for 10 minutes ]*
*[ Reward: Bronze Gacha Ticket ]*
*[ Time Limit: 7 days ]*
I stared at the notification.
A thousand deployments. Fifty formations. Ten-minute sustained trap.
That was... ambitious. But achievable with dedicated practice.
I slipped on the gloves and got to work.
Deploy. Retract. Deploy. Retract.
One. Two. Three.
The repetitions blurred together, my hands moving on autopilot while my mind wandered.
The night stretched on, and I kept training.
---
Deep beneath Konoha, in chambers that officially didn't exist, Danzo Shimura reviewed reports.
The monthly Academy competition results sat on his desk, unremarkable except for one detail.
Ken Shimura. First place. Defeated Sasuke Uchiha.
Danzo's visible eye tracked across the performance analysis. Above-average taijutsu. Competent chakra control. Strategic thinking that exceeded Academy standards.
Nothing exceptional. Nothing that warranted special attention.
Except for the name.
Shimura.
Danzo's hand drummed against the desk, a rare display of uncertainty.
The boy carried his name, lived with a medical-nin who'd once worked in Root's medical division before transferring to the hospital, and showed enough potential to warrant monitoring.
But approaching too directly would alert Hiruzen. The old fool was protective of Academy students, especially those showing promise.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Enter"
A Root operative materialized from the shadows, kneeling "Danzo-sama. You requested surveillance reports on Ken Shimura."
"Proceed."
"The target maintains regular Academy attendance. Associates primarily with Naruto Uzumaki and Rock Lee. Training habits consistent with dedicated but unremarkable students. No suspicious activities detected."
"And the medical-nin guardian?"
"Yuki Shimura works standard hospital shifts. No unusual contacts. No questionable activities. Financial records show modest but stable income."
Danzo absorbed this information, processing implications.
A dead end. Nothing actionable.
For now.
"Continue monitoring," he ordered. "Report any deviations from established patterns."
"Hai, Danzo-sama."
The operative vanished.
Danzo returned to the reports, but his mind lingered on the boy.
Potential was dangerous. Potential without proper guidance became chaos.
But forcing the issue would be counterproductive.
Patience. Observation. When the right opportunity presented itself, he would act.
Until then, Ken Shimura could continue his Academy training, unaware of the attention he'd drawn.