The morning air felt colder than the previous days, or perhaps he was simply more aware of it. Roen stood near the fence before drills began and let the system surface.
VIT: 5.6
CHK: 6.2
CTL: 5.2
COG: 7.0
ADP: 12.0
Total effective value hovered in the high thirties. Upper academy range, if his earlier model held. Not genin. Not yet. The ratios still mattered more than the number itself.
He dismissed the panel as Genryū stepped into the yard.
Morning drills ran longer than usual. Genryū corrected posture more aggressively, forcing transitions from stance into movement without warning. Roen's legs responded better than they had a week ago, but fatigue still accumulated faster than he preferred. Control training had strengthened distribution, yet endurance remained limited by muscle and lung, not intent.
When drills ended, Yukihiro was already stretching near the fence. His hitai-ate rested loosely around his neck today rather than his forehead, but his posture was relaxed in a way that only came from field experience. Shigure had not returned from his B-rank mission, leaving the yard feeling less observed.
"You're lighter on your feet," Yukihiro said without looking at him.
Roen didn't answer immediately. "You're slower when you're tired."
Yukihiro snorted once. "Try it."
They stepped into the center again.
This time Yukihiro did not test him gently. The first exchange came faster than before, a low kick followed by a sharp palm aimed at his shoulder. Roen recognised the sequence early, his mind mapping the motion before full extension, but recognition did not equal escape. He shifted enough to reduce the impact, not eliminate it.
They circled.
Yukihiro pressed forward with measured pressure, not reckless aggression. His strikes came in combinations now rather than single tests. Roen focused less on the fists and more on weight transfer. Each time Yukihiro committed his center of gravity forward, there was a fraction of imbalance before correction. That fraction was small, but consistent.
Roen moved earlier.
The second exchange grazed instead of landed.
The third forced him backward.
His breathing grew heavier before Yukihiro's did. That gap irritated him more than the strikes.
Yukihiro increased tempo slightly, and Roen felt the difference immediately. His perception remained sharp, but the body lagged behind intention by a narrow margin that refused to close. He managed a clean sidestep on the fifth exchange and slipped behind Yukihiro's shoulder long enough to tap his back.
Not a win.
But not a loss.
They reset without commentary.
The spar lasted longer this time. Yukihiro landed fewer clean hits than in their previous session, but he remained firmly in control. When it ended, Roen's forearms were sore and his breathing uneven, while Yukihiro's pulse had barely elevated.
"You're adjusting faster," Yukihiro said finally. "But you're still thinking too much mid-exchange."
Roen absorbed that without argument.
Yukihiro rolled his shoulder once and adjusted the strap on his pouch.
"We've got escort duty," he said. "Adjacent town. C-rank."
"How long?" Roen asked.
"Three or four days. Depends how slow the merchants are."
Roen nodded.
Escort meant roads instead of rooftops. It meant distance from the village walls. It wasn't high-risk, but it wasn't yard sparring either.
Yukihiro glanced at him briefly. "Keep training."
"I will."
Yukihiro didn't add anything else. He didn't need to.
When he stepped out of the yard, the space felt wider again. The gap between academy-level and genin-level no longer felt abstract. It was measurable in timing and stamina. His mind could read sequences earlier than before, but until his body caught up, it remained theory under pressure.
Eighteen days remained. It was enough time to narrow the distance, but not enough to erase it entirely.
The number sat in his awareness without urgency. It was neither close nor distant. It was a boundary.
Yukihiro had already departed with his squad at dawn, escorting a merchant caravan toward a neighboring town. The yard felt less crowded without him. Shigure remained away on his B-rank assignment, and there had been no word of his return.
Genryū adjusted the morning drills without announcement. The holds lasted longer. Transitions were tighter. Roen did not complain. He adjusted.
VIT: 5.5 → 5.6
Small. Acceptable.
That afternoon, once drills ended, Roen approached Genryū directly.
"Teach me Bunshin."
Genryū paused mid-motion. "You won't learn that in the Academy for a while."
"I don't want to wait."
Genryū studied him for a moment, then nodded once. "Watch."
He formed the seals slowly, without exaggeration. Chakra gathered cleanly, stable, precise. A second Genryū appeared beside him, identical down to posture.
The clone did not flicker.
Genryū dispersed it with a casual wave. "It's control, not volume. Most students fail because they push too much."
Roen memorised the sequence and attempted it immediately.
The first clone formed incomplete, its edges blurred before dissolving into smoke.
Genryū did not comment.
Roen tried again, reducing output and focusing on structure instead of intensity. The second held longer, but its face lacked detail.
"Too uneven," Genryū said simply.
Roen adjusted again.
By sunset, he could form a clone that held shape for several breaths before destabilising.
CTL: 5.3 → 5.4
Minor gain.
He did not attempt to perfect it in one day.
Over the next week, time moved steadily.
Eighteen days became twelve.
Tree walking required no conscious effort anymore. Bunshin stabilised gradually, though the projection still lacked sharpness compared to Genryū's. Physical conditioning improved in increments too small to feel dramatic.
VIT: 5.6 → 5.8
CTL: 5.4 → 5.6
No leaps. No breakthroughs. Just compounding.
On the twelfth evening, an administrative shinobi arrived at the gate with official enrollment confirmation.
Academy Entry: 08:00
Reporting Location: Main Instruction Hall
Six days remained.
Roen folded the document carefully.
The preparation phase was no longer theoretical.
The next boundary was fixed.