Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters. All rights belong to Masashi Kishimoto and the respective publishers. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only.

  Chapter 10: Shadows in the Hallway

  The fist came at me with deliberate slowness.

  I twisted my torso, feeling the air displacement as Chōza's massive knuckles passed centimeters from my chest.

  Where the jonin's fist cut through the air, I could sense a subtle disturbance in the ambient chakra, like ripples in a still pond.

  I used the momentum of my dodge to spin into a counter-strike, gathering chakra to my right arm with practiced control. The familiar warmth spread through my pathways, rushing down from my core to my striking hand.

  Chōza blocked it effortlessly, large palm engulfing my entire forearm before I could make contact. Through my heightened senses, I detected the jonin's chakra, dense and earthy, like the pressure of a mountain as it briefly flared to redirect the force of my strike.

  "Better," Chōza commented, releasing my arm and immediately shifting into another attack sequence.

  A low kick came sweeping toward my legs. I could detect the chakra rippling around Chōza's ankle, merely the unconscious manifestation of a jonin's power.

  I channeled chakra to my legs, feeling the distinctive tingling sensation as it filled my muscles. I jumped higher than strictly necessary, my chakra automatically enhancing the leap just enough to clear Chōza's extended leg.

  Too obvious, I realized mid-air. I'd committed too much to the vertical movement. Chōza had anticipated the jump, and was already moving to intercept my landing.

  Drawing on months of training, I channeled chakra to my core and twisted in mid-air, altering my trajectory just enough to land beyond Chōza's reach. My feet touched the ground, soft earth giving slightly beneath my sandals.

  "Using chakra to enhance your mobility," Chōza noted, already pivoting to maintain the offensive. His massive frame moved with a grace that belied his size. "Good instinct, but telegraph less. I can feel the chakra gathering in your legs before you move."

  My eyes narrowed in concentration. I needed to be subtler with my chakra flow. I blocked the next punch with crossed forearms, channeling chakra to reinforce the point of impact. The chakra formed an invisible buffer between our bodies, but even so, the collision sent vibrations through my bones. The impact traveled up my arms, briefly disrupting my chakra flow and causing a momentary numbness in my fingertips.

  Chōza was holding back enormously, that much was obvious, but even his restrained strikes carried weight that reminded me of the vast gulf between us. Where my chakra felt like a stream, Chōza's was an ocean. Deep, powerful, and controlled with casual mastery.

  "Don't just defend," Chōza instructed, his breathing still perfectly regulated despite the exertion. "Find openings, create them if necessary."

  I exhaled sharply, centering myself. I'd been too reactive, letting Chōza dictate the flow of the sparring session. That wouldn't work against any opponent. I needed to seize initiative.

  Redirect the rhythm. Break the pattern.

  Gathering chakra to my legs once more, but this time keeping the flow subtle and internal, I circled to my right. As Chōza moved to intercept, I abruptly reversed direction, the sudden shift appearing to catch the jonin slightly off-guard. It wasn't much, barely a split-second of adjustment, but it was enough.

  The next exchange came quickly. I ducked under a horizontal strike, feeling the displaced air ruffle my hair. I dropped low, sweeping my leg in a mirror of Chōza's earlier attack, infusing just enough chakra to make the movement faster than expected.

  The jonin easily stepped over it, but I was already moving again, pushing off the ground with chakra-enhanced strength to drive an elbow toward Chōza's midsection.

  My chakra flowed smoothly now, responding to my urgent need. For a brief moment, I thought I might actually land the hit… but then Chōza shifted, impossibly fast, his own chakra surging.

  My senses detected the sudden spike in the jonin's energy, a flash of intensity that outshone my own like sunlight drowning a candle flame. The jonin caught me by the back of my shirt and redirected my momentum.

  The world spun as I found myself flipped through the air, landing flat on my back with a thud that drove the air from my lungs.

  I lay there for a moment, staring up at the canopy of leaves above, dust particles dancing in the sunbeams that filtered through. My chakra network hummed with the exertion, pathways warm from the training. Scattered bits of earth clung to my clothes, and I could taste the faintest trace of copper in my mouth.

  "Your sequencing is improving," Chōza said, stepping into view above me, his large frame blocking the sun. Zero indication that he'd exerted himself at all. "That combination might have worked on a careless genin."

  Coming from Chōza, this was significant praise. I accepted the offered hand, his palm easily engulfing mine as he pulled me to my feet. The movement sent a small wave of dizziness through me, a reminder of the impact I'd just taken.

  "Again," Chōza said, stepping back into a ready stance. "This time, focus on reading my movements before they come. Anticipation creates opportunity."

  I nodded, brushing dirt from my clothes and resetting my stance. I centered my breathing, extending my senses as Chōza had been teaching me. A focused awareness of my opponent's body language, breathing patterns, and subtle shifts in weight.

  Chōza began circling, and I matched his movement, maintaining distance while looking for an opening. The clearing was quiet except for the soft sound of our sandals on earth and the occasional birdsong from the surrounding trees. A bead of sweat traced a path down my temple, but I didn't dare break my focus to wipe it away.

  There… a subtle shift in his weight.

  The attack, when it came, was from an unexpected angle. Chōza feinted right, then struck from the left, his movement so fluid it seemed impossible for someone his size. Through my enhanced senses, I detected the jonin's chakra fluctuating subtly before the move, a tell that I had been learning to recognize.

  Rather than block directly, I angled my body, letting the strike glance off my shoulder while I countered with a palm thrust toward Chōza's chest. I channeled chakra to my hand—

  Again, the jonin evaded, but this time I was ready for the counter. As Chōza shifted to grapple, I dropped my center of gravity and spun inside the larger man's reach, executing a textbook hip throw that I'd been practicing for weeks. My chakra coils thrummed with effort as I attempted to move an opponent three times my size.

  For a heartbeat, I felt Chōza's weight shift, felt the technique begin to work… before reality reasserted itself. The jonin adjusted mid-movement, his chakra pulsing subtly as he regained control, and I found my throw reversed. The world tilted as I was lifted and deposited firmly but not painfully onto the ground once more.

  This time, Chōza offered a rare smile. "Good attempt. The execution was technically correct. Your chakra flow during the maneuver was more controlled than last week."

  I sat up, breathing hard now, my shirt damp with perspiration. The morning air filled my lungs in sharp, cold gasps, carrying the scent of dew-dampened earth and my own exertion.

  I'd been training with the Akimichi clan head for just over a month now, and while the gap in our abilities remained enormous, I could feel myself improving. Small advances, measured in fractions of seconds faster reaction time, in movements becoming more instinctual, in chakra responding more promptly to my will.

  "Your footwork is getting better," Chōza observed, his massive frame betraying none of the exertion that left me winded. To my enhanced perception, the jonin's chakra remained steady and controlled, a stark contrast to my own fluctuating patterns. "But you're still telegraphing your movements through your shoulders. And I can feel your chakra spike before you enhance your strikes. A skilled opponent would exploit that opening."

  I nodded, filing away the observation. My shoulders tensed involuntarily when planning my next move. A habit likely formed from years of private practice without proper guidance.

  In our sessions, Chōza alternated between taijutsu fundamentals and tactical exercises. Both far more intensive than anything taught at the Academy. The comparison wasn't even close, like the difference between being taught how to hold cooking utensils versus actually preparing a complex meal.

  "I think we've done enough sparring for today," Chōza said, reaching into his vest. "It's time we try something new."

  The jonin's words pulled me from my reflection. Whatever Chōza was about to introduce, it would surely push the boundaries of my abilities once more… exactly what I needed to grow in this world of extraordinary power.

  He produced a small square of paper, holding it between two fingers. "Do you know what this is?"

  I studied it carefully. "Chakra induction paper. It reacts to chakra nature."

  "Very good. You normally wouldn't learn this until much later," Chōza nodded approvingly. "But understanding your affinity early will help me plan your future training."

  He handed the paper to me. "Channel your chakra into it. Not too much. Just enough to feel a connection."

  I held the paper flat on my palm, focusing my chakra as I'd practiced countless times with leaves. The paper remained still for a moment, then gradually grew damp in the center, water beading along its surface. Almost simultaneously, the edges of the paper began to blacken and curl, thin wisps of smoke rising as tiny flames flickered briefly before dying out.

  "Interesting," Chōza said, leaning closer. "A dual affinity. Water primarily, with fire as well. That's quite rare, especially at your age."

  I looked down at the paper with genuine surprise. I hadn't expected two such opposing affinities to manifest together.

  "What does this mean?" I asked.

  "It means when the time comes for nature transformation training, you'll have advantages with both water and fire techniques," Chōza explained. He studied me thoughtfully. "Though these natures typically oppose each other. Most shinobi struggle to master both."

  I nodded, thinking about what this might mean. The water affinity felt natural, I had a habit of flowing around problems instead of tackling them directly. I also felt warm at the thought of inheriting it from my mother.

  But fire... that was unexpected.

  Something pulsed deep within me, and my mind froze...

  For just an instant, I felt the phantom weight of a hand ruffling my hair, but when I turned, there was only empty air.

  Chōza tucked the remnants of the chakra paper away. "But that's for the future. For now, we should focus on the fundamentals.

  The Academy teaches three basic jutsu that every shinobi should master: Transformation, Substitution, and Clone techniques. What's your experience with them so far?"

  I shook off the odd experience, forcing my focus back to the conversation.

  "We've only covered basic chakra control exercises in class," I replied. "The instructors haven't even introduced these jutsu in theory yet. Nakamura-sensei mentioned that specific techniques won't be taught until third or fourth year."

  Chōza nodded. "As expected. However, there's no reason you can't start practicing now. These techniques form the foundation of a shinobi's arsenal, regardless of your natural affinity."

  He moved to the center of the clearing. "We'll begin with the Transformation Jutsu. Watch carefully."

  As Chōza formed the hand signs Dog, Boar, Ram with deliberate slowness, I found myself focusing intensely, my senses automatically extending beyond normal observation. A familiar strangeness happened as I watched Chōza's chakra flow through the sequence of signs.

  My own chakra network seemed to resonate in response, tiny pathways shifting and adapting as if trying to mirror what they were sensing. It reminded me of that day in the park years ago, when I'd observed Itachi's leaf exercise. But this was stronger, more defined. Perhaps because of my more developed network, or because of Chōza's greater power.

  A subtle warmth spread through my chakra coils as they subtly reconfigured, recording the pattern they were witnessing. It wasn't painful, just... unusual. Like muscles remembering a movement they hadn't physically performed.

  Chōza paused mid-sign, his brow furrowing slightly.

  "That's odd," he said, abandoning his demonstration. His eyes narrowed as he studied me.

  "What is it?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

  Chōza shook his head slightly. "For a moment, I felt... something. Like my chakra was being pulled, or..." He didn't elaborate further, but his gaze lingered on me with newfound curiosity before he resumed his demonstration.

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  "The key is visualization," Chōza continued, though I noticed he was watching me more closely now. "You must hold a clear image in your mind while molding your chakra."

  A puff of smoke surrounded the jonin, and when it cleared, a perfect copy of me stood in his place.

  "Weird," I muttered, seeing myself from the outside. The strange resonance in my chakra coils intensified momentarily, then settled into a quiet hum.

  Chōza released the jutsu, returning to his normal form. "Now you try. Start with something simple. Transform into me."

  I nodded, forming the hand signs as demonstrated. As my fingers moved through the sequence, I found my chakra following paths that felt somehow pre-carved, as if it knew where to flow before I consciously directed it. I concentrated on Chōza's appearance, channeling chakra through the sequence.

  The transformation wasn't perfect, but it was better than a first attempt should have been.

  "Your proportions are off," Chōza said, circling me with a calculating gaze, "And the details of my face aren't quite right. But for a first attempt..." He paused, studying me with renewed interest. "You've picked this up quickly."

  For the next hour, we worked on the Transformation Jutsu, with me gradually improving my results. Each demonstration from Chōza seemed to trigger that same resonance in my pathways, subtle but unmistakable. By the end of the session, I could produce a reasonable facsimile of Chōza, my progress noticeably faster than what might be expected.

  "Good progress," Chōza said finally. "The Academy Three are E-rank jutsu, but they require more finesse than raw power. Practice the hand signs and chakra molding for Transformation daily. Next session, we'll continue with this and possibly introduce Substitution."

  As we prepared to end the training, Chōza's expression grew thoughtful. "Ren, one more thing. When these techniques are formally introduced at the Academy, consider how your classmates might feel if you've already mastered what they're just beginning to learn."

  I understood what he meant. Being too far ahead could isolate me from peers whose friendship and trust I might need someday.

  "I'll be mindful of that," I replied.

  Chōza seemed to debate with himself for a moment, then spoke. "Earlier, when I was demonstrating... did you feel anything unusual?"

  The direct question caught me off guard. After a moment's hesitation, I nodded. "My chakra sometimes... responds... when I watch others perform techniques."

  "Hmm." Chōza didn't press for details, but his expression suggested he was filing this information away for later consideration. "An unusual trait. One that might serve you well, but should perhaps not be widely discussed."

  "Same time tomorrow, then," Chōza said finally.

  As we parted ways, I knew that Chōza had sensed something. Not the full extent of my ability, but enough to raise questions. It was a reminder that even as my abilities grew, so too did the likelihood of others noticing what made me different.

  The walk home from the training ground gave me time to settle my thoughts. My body was tired but humming with satisfaction. The kind that comes from pushing your limits and finding them just a little further than before. The morning air had warmed considerably, carrying the scents of Konoha's bakeries and food stalls beginning their day. My stomach rumbled in response, reminding me that intense chakra use demanded fuel.

  As I approached our restaurant, I could already sense the familiar chakra signatures of my parents moving about inside. My father's steady, grounded flow and my mother's gentler patterns were as recognizable to me as their voices. But lately, I have noticed something else.

  Something new and small but undeniably growing within my mother's signature.

  The realization stirred complicated feelings I hadn't expected. A sibling in this life. In my previous existence, I'd had siblings, but we'd... drifted apart over the years. Different paths, different priorities. By the end, we'd been strangers who happened to share parents.

  Now I was being given another chance, but in a world of shinobi and looming dangers. Would I do better this time? Would I be able to protect this new life from what I knew was coming?

  I slid open the door to Mizuhara Shokudō, the familiar smell of dashi stock and grilling fish enveloping me like an embrace. The lunch rush hadn't begun yet, but several early customers were already seated, businessmen from nearby shops and a couple of off-duty genin.

  "I'm home," I called, slipping behind the counter.

  My father glanced up from where he was slicing fish, his knife moving with practiced precision. "Welcome back. Training went well?" His chakra gave a small, pleased pulse when he saw me, a subtle tell of affection that most would never detect.

  "It did." I kept my answer deliberately vague, conscious of the customers within earshot. "Chōza-san says my form is improving."

  My mother emerged from the back room, a stack of freshly folded napkins in her hands. Her chakra reached out to me in greeting, warm and familiar, but I couldn't help focusing on that small, developing signature nestled within her own.

  A tiny flutter of new life, still so small that only my enhanced senses could detect it. She hadn't announced anything yet, and I wondered if she even knew herself.

  "You look exhausted," she said, setting down the napkins to brush dust from my hair. "And you're filthy. Go wash up, then come help with prep. We've got a large reservation at noon."

  As I passed her, I paused, my attention drawn again to that small chakra signature. It felt different from normal chakra. Purer somehow, less defined but vibrant with potential. Another sibling. The thought was both strange and exciting.

  "What?" my mother asked, catching me staring.

  I shook my head. "Nothing. I'll go change."

  Upstairs, I quickly shed my training clothes and washed the dirt and sweat from my face and hands. The cool water was refreshing against my skin, easing the lingering ache in my muscles from Chōza's training regimen.

  I changed into my restaurant clothes. Black pants and a deep blue happi coat with our family name embroidered on the back.

  When I returned downstairs, the pace had already picked up. Several tables had filled, and the restaurant hummed with activity. Hana, the young woman my parents had hired not long ago, moved efficiently between tables, her tray balanced expertly on one hand. By the kitchen, Satoshi was already working the grill under my father's supervision.

  I slipped behind the counter, finding my place in the familiar rhythm of our family business. My mother smiled as I joined her.

  The lunch rush peaked with a party of eight merchants celebrating a successful trade deal. They ordered lavishly, keeping the kitchen busy while Hana and I managed the front. As I delivered a particularly precarious arrangement of dishes to their table, one of the merchants gestured too enthusiastically, his hand knocking into my arm.

  Time seemed to slow as I sensed the dishes beginning to tilt. Without conscious thought, I channeled chakra to my fingertips, creating just enough adhesion to keep everything balanced. The subtle pulse of energy was imperceptible to the customers, but the dishes stabilized as if by magic.

  "Careful there!" one of the merchants laughed. "That could have been disastrous."

  I smiled politely, setting the dishes down with practiced grace. "Enjoy your meal."

  As I turned away, I caught my mother's eye from across the restaurant. She gave me a small, knowing smile before returning to her own work.

  The rest of the lunch service passed in a blur of activity. By the time the last customers departed, leaving generous payment and compliments for the chef, I was genuinely tired. The combination of morning training and lunch service had depleted my energy reserves more than I'd realized.

  My mother noticed, of course. As I helped Hana wipe down the last table, my mother pressed a small bowl of rice with grilled fish and pickles into my hands. "Eat. You need to replenish your stamina for tomorrow's classes."

  I sank onto a stool at the counter, suddenly ravenous. The food disappeared quickly, my body demanding calories to replace what the morning's chakra exertion had burned.

  When the last dish was dried and the prep for dinner service completed, my parents joined me at the counter while Hana and Satoshi took their break in the back room. My father poured tea for all of us, the steaming liquid releasing a gentle aroma of roasted barley.

  As we talked about the day's business and regular customers, I kept finding my attention drawn to that small flicker of chakra within my mother. It seemed to pulse whenever she laughed or spoke with animation, as if responding to her emotions. I wondered how long they planned to wait before telling me. Or perhaps they wanted it to be a surprise.

  My father glanced at the clock. "You should probably rest before dinner service. You look tired from your training this morning."

  I nodded, grateful for the suggestion. The combined exertion of Chōza's training and the lunch rush had left me more drained than I wanted to admit.

  Before heading upstairs, I paused beside my mother. On impulse, I hugged her gently, feeling that tiny chakra signature flutter between us.

  "What's this for?" she asked, surprised but pleased.

  I shrugged. "Just because."

  Her eyes softened. She simply smoothed my hair and smiled. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's another day at the Academy."

  I nodded, the moment of connection lingering as I headed upstairs.

  The Academy grounds buzzed with the usual morning energy when I arrived the next day. Children raced across the yard, their laughter carrying on the breeze as instructors called for order. After a restful evening and a good night's sleep, my chakra reserves felt fully replenished, my mind clear and focused for whatever the day might bring.

  I spotted Mei near the entrance, her copper-brown hair even more chaotic than usual. She waved enthusiastically when she saw me, bouncing on her toes with barely contained excitement.

  "Ren! You won't believe what Nakamura-sensei said we're doing today!" She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the building. "We're going to learn about famous Konoha shinobi! Maybe even the Yellow Flash!"

  I smiled at her enthusiasm. "That sounds interesting."

  "Interesting? It's going to be AMAZING!" Her chakra flared with genuine excitement, bright sparks of energy that always seemed to dance just beneath her skin. "I heard they might bring in a real jōnin to talk to us!"

  As we entered the building, I noticed Shinji leaning against the wall near our classroom, watching the commotion with his typical reserved demeanor. His insects buzzed in a pattern that somehow conveyed amusement without him changing his expression at all.

  "Morning, Shinji," I greeted him, receiving a slight nod in return. For Shinji, this was practically effusive.

  We filed into the classroom together, taking our usual seats as Nakamura-sensei called for order. The morning followed the typical routine. History lessons, basic mathematics, and a session on chakra theory that felt painfully basic after my training with Chōza. I found my mind wandering, replaying the previous day's lessons on the Transformation Jutsu, mentally practicing the hand signs under my desk.

  When the lunch break came, I declined Mei's invitation to eat together, needing some quiet time to process my thoughts. "I need to review some notes," I told her, which wasn't entirely untrue. "I'll see you after lunch."

  She looked disappointed but quickly recovered. "Okay! But you're missing out on my mom's amazing onigiri!" With that, she bounded off to join a group of classmates, her energy pulling others into her orbit as always.

  I found a quiet corner of the courtyard, away from the noise and bustle of playing children. Leaning against a tree, I closed my eyes, using the moment of solitude to practice extending my chakra sense. It was a delicate exercise, reaching out to feel the ambient chakra without becoming overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information.

  The Academy was a fascinating place to practice this skill. Dozens of developing chakra signatures, each with their own distinct pattern. The more refined signatures of the instructors. Even the faint residual chakra embedded in the building itself after decades of jutsu practice and demonstration.

  I was so focused on this exercise that I almost missed the approaching footsteps. Opening my eyes, I gathered my things quickly, not wanting to be caught in what might look like sleeping rather than studying. As I rounded the corner to head back to class early, I nearly collided with two figures walking down the hallway in deep conversation.

  I stepped back instinctively, an apology forming on my lips… before freezing completely.

  The Third Hokage stood just feet away, his weathered face serious as he spoke in low tones to the man beside him. But it wasn't Hiruzen's presence that sent a jolt of adrenaline through my system.

  It was his companion.

  Pale skin. Long black hair. A face that might have been considered handsome if not for the subtle wrongness that clung to his features like an ill-fitting mask.

  Orochimaru of the Sannin.

  My breath caught in my throat. In my previous life, I'd known this face from media. But here, now, the reality of him was something else entirely.

  My senses reacted before my conscious mind could process what was happening. His chakra signature hit my senses like plunging into ice water… cold, slick, and deeply, fundamentally wrong.

  Unlike normal chakra, which flowed in patterns reflecting the user's nature, Orochimaru's seemed to writhe and twist in unnatural configurations. Like a snake shedding its skin, parts of his chakra seemed to be peeling away from what should have been his core pattern, revealing something underneath that was neither human nor natural.

  And beneath it all, I could sense a faint miasma of other signatures. Fragmentary, distorted, as if dozens of people were screaming from somewhere inside him. Whispers of horror my conscious mind couldn't fully comprehend, but my chakra registered with terrifying clarity.

  My body reacted instinctively. My chakra violently recoiled, like prey recognizing a predator… no, like an immune system recognizing an infection. A familiar pressure began building behind my eyes.

  I knew I needed to move. To say something. To bow respectfully or acknowledge the Hokage. But my body refused to obey, frozen in place as my senses continued to absorb the wrongness of Orochimaru's chakra.

  Both men stopped, noticing me. The Hokage's expression softened to his typical grandfatherly demeanor. "Ah, young man. Shouldn't you be at lunch with the others?"

  I forced myself to bow, trying desperately to rein in my chakra's panicked response. "My apologies, Hokage-sama. I was returning to the classroom early."

  I could feel Orochimaru's gaze on me, calculating and cold. When I dared look up, his eyes had narrowed slightly, head tilted in what might have been curiosity.

  "What's your name, child?" he asked, his voice smooth and pleasant, completely at odds with the corruption I could sense in his chakra.

  "Mizuhara Ren," I managed to answer, fighting to keep my voice steady.

  Something flickered in the Hokage's eyes. Recognition? Interest? I couldn't be sure, but I felt the weight of his attention shift, becoming more focused.

  "Mizuhara," Orochimaru repeated, as if tasting the name. "Not a shinobi family, if I recall."

  "No, Orochimaru-sama," I replied, the honorific tasting bitter on my tongue. "My parents run a restaurant in the central district."

  "And yet… you're aware of who I am," he observed, his chakra shifting subtly, almost as if probing outward. I felt it brush against my own, and it took every ounce of control not to physically recoil. "How... interesting."

  The Hokage placed a hand on Orochimaru's shoulder, a gesture that seemed both friendly and restraining. "We shouldn't keep Ren-kun from his studies. The Academy staff speak highly of his progress."

  That confirmed it. I was being watched. The casual mention of reports on my progress was clearly deliberate.

  "Of course, Sensei," Orochimaru replied, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer. "Perhaps I'll visit the Academy more often. It's always... enlightening... to observe promising students."

  I bowed again, deeper this time, using the motion to hide the tremor that ran through me. "Thank you for your interest, Orochimaru-sama. If you'll excuse me."

  As I straightened, I caught the Hokage's gaze shifting between Orochimaru and me, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. For the briefest moment, his chakra sharpened with focus before it settled once more.

  I stepped aside, keeping my movements measured and respectful as they continued down the hallway. Only when they had turned the corner did I allow myself to lean against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest.

  What I'd sensed... the wrongness in Orochimaru's chakra... it could only be evidence of his experiments. The fragmented chakra signatures embedded within his own…were those his victims? People he'd already used for his forbidden techniques?

  And worse, the Hokage was walking beside him, speaking to him as a trusted advisor. In the original timeline, Hiruzen's blindness to Orochimaru's true nature had cost Konoha dearly. Was I witnessing that willful ignorance firsthand?

  I forced myself to breathe deeply, centering my chakra. The pressure behind my eyes gradually subsided, but the memory of those fractured signatures writhing within Orochimaru's chakra remained vivid.

  I had just experienced something that perhaps no one else in Konoha could perceive… direct evidence of Orochimaru's atrocities. And I was certain that both he and the Hokage had noticed something unusual in my reaction.

  As I made my way back to the classroom on unsteady legs, one thought remained in my mind.

  I'd just come face to face with a monster hiding in plain sight, and I had no idea what to do with that knowledge. That familiar sense of frustration returned, rising like bile in my throat.

  I stopped and pressed my forehead against the cool wood of the wall, closing my eyes for one final moment of composure. In my mind, I could still see that calculating look in Orochimaru's eyes, feel the unnaturalness of his chakra. It would be a long time before I could forget that sensation.

  In the end… all I can do is focus on the present. I was still too young, too immature in capability. All I could do was continue my path.

  Training, growing stronger, slowly establishing myself in this world of shinobi… because what else could I do?