The village had settled into its usual morning rhythm by the time Roen stepped through the compound gate. Shop shutters were lifting. Smoke drifted upward in thin lines. A pair of shinobi moved across rooftops without spectacle, just transit. Nothing about the morning felt ceremonial. Academy already felt routine.
He didn't rush.
Halfway down the street, someone matched his pace without trying to hide it.
"You're Shinra, right?"
The voice carried mild curiosity, not challenge. Roen glanced sideways. The boy walking beside him had tied-back dark hair and an expression that looked permanently halfway between awake and bored, though his eyes were sharper than the rest of his face suggested.
"Roen," he replied.
The boy nodded once. "Kagehiro."
He didn't elaborate, and Roen didn't ask. The surname was enough.
They walked another few steps in silence before Kagehiro spoke again.
"You held up yesterday," he said. "Against Uchiha."
It wasn't admiration. It wasn't dismissal. Just observation.
"You watched closely," Roen replied.
Kagehiro's mouth shifted slightly at that, almost a smirk but not quite. "Hard not to. Everyone was."
Before the conversation could settle deeper, a heavier set of footsteps caught up from behind.
"You two are walking too seriously for this early," the larger boy said, adjusting the strap across his shoulder. He sniffed once. "Someone nearby burned miso. Ruined the smell."
Kagehiro didn't look at him. "You noticed that before the smoke."
"Of course I did."
Roen glanced back briefly. The boy's build was already thicker than most their age, but his eyes were alert, scanning everything despite the relaxed tone.
"Daigo," he added, as if the name were an afterthought.
A girl joined from the opposite side of the street, falling into stride with clean, measured steps. Her hair was tied back neatly, not a strand out of place.
"You're walking crooked," she said to Daigo without greeting. "It's throwing off the spacing."
Daigo frowned faintly. "It's a road."
"It's uneven."
She adjusted her own alignment by a fraction and then glanced at Roen. "Aoi."
No introduction beyond that.
They didn't form a formal group. They simply continued walking in loose formation, conversation moving without anyone claiming center.
Roen observed them briefly, without overthinking it. Kagehiro spoke little but missed nothing. Aoi's eyes tracked posture and detail instinctively. Daigo complained casually, but his awareness never dropped.
Interesting balance.
Ahead of them, Itachi walked alone.
Not isolated just separate. His pace was even, posture straight without stiffness. He wasn't ignoring the others; he simply wasn't seeking them.
Roen shortened the distance slightly without breaking stride. The others followed naturally. By the time they reached the Academy courtyard, they were walking in line without meaning to.
Inside, Instructor Daichi was already at the board.
He wrote in firm strokes:
Chakra = Physical Energy + Spiritual Energy
The classroom quieted gradually.
"Physical energy," Daichi began, turning toward them, "comes from the body. Stamina. Cells. Training. Spiritual energy comes from the mind focus, emotion, intention. Shinobi mold chakra by balancing both. Too much body without control, you burn out. Too much mind without stamina, you collapse."
He let that settle before continuing.
"Most of you leak chakra when you try to focus. You tense your shoulders. You narrow your breathing. You force it."
He stepped aside.
"Raise your hand. Concentrate chakra into the palm. Do not release it. Do not flare it. Just hold."
The room shifted into uneasy stillness.
Several students closed their eyes immediately, faces tightening. A faint shimmer flickered in a few palms before sputtering out. One boy over-concentrated and let out a sharp breath as his arm trembled visibly. Another managed a brief glow before it dispersed unevenly along his wrist.
Daigo's brow furrowed as he tried, lips pressing together harder than necessary. Aoi's concentration was precise, but the chakra wavered thinly at the edges.
Itachi lifted his hand.
The chakra gathered cleanly, no wasted motion, no strain. It sat in his palm as if it had always belonged there.
Daichi's gaze lingered for half a second.
Roen raised his own hand.
He didn't close his eyes. He let the flow rise steadily. The chakra gathered without resistance.
Someone inhaled quietly.
Daichi said nothing.
After a moment, he lowered his arm. "Control before output," he said. "If you cannot hold it, you cannot shape it. If you cannot shape it, you cannot use it."
He scanned the room once more, eyes pausing briefly on Itachi, then Roen, then moving on without comment.
The lesson continued into theory breathing patterns, balance between mental and physical exertion but the hierarchy had already clarified itself without announcement.
When the class shifted back into seated formation, the atmosphere was quieter than before.
No one spoke about it.
No one needed to.
Roen rested his hand against the desk and let the sensation of contained chakra fade naturally.
Beside him, Kagehiro leaned back slightly in his chair.
"You two make it look easy," he muttered under his breath, not resentful, just calculating.
Roen didn't respond.
There was no point explaining.
Some distances were measured in silence.