Years passed. The rhythm of the Academy became the rhythm of their lives. For the other students, the most fascinating and baffling part of that rhythm was the daily lunch ritual.
(Shikamaru Nara's Perspective)
Shikamaru Nara watched from his preferred napping spot under the shade of the oak tree. It was, in his opinion, the most troublesome thing he'd ever seen. Every day, like clockwork. Deva, the silent one, would deliver a portion of his lunch to Sasuke, the brooding one, and then to Naruto, the loud one. No words. No fuss. Just a silent transaction.
It was illogical. The three of them were intense rivals, constantly trying to one-up each other in every drill and spar. Sasuke's talent was sharp and precise. Naruto's was a clumsy, powerful explosion. And Deva… Deva was the weirdest of all. He'd started off as a nobody, clumsy in taijutsu, but over the years his growth had been unnatural. He now moved with a quiet efficiency that was almost as good as Sasuke's, and he never, ever got tired.
A three-way rivalry fueled by a shared lunch. It made no sense. It was a drag to even think about. Shikamaru closed his eyes. They were the eye of their generation's storm, and the smartest place to be was far away from it.
(Sakura Haruno's Perspective)
Sakura watched them during taijutsu practice, her fists clenched. Sasuke-kun was, as always, brilliant. His movements were a perfect, graceful dance of the Uchiha style. But Deva was right there with him.
Two years ago, Deva had been clumsy. She could beat him easily. Now, he was a ghost. He mirrored Sasuke's movements, his silver eyes tracking every detail, his body moving with a stamina that was simply monstrous. He didn't have Sasuke-kun's grace, but he was relentless, a rising tide that threatened to overwhelm even a prodigy.
It was infuriating. How could a civilian-born orphan with no background suddenly become so strong? It wasn't fair.
And then there was lunch. Every day, she'd watch as Deva gave a portion of his bento to Sasuke-kun. And every day, Sasuke-kun would eat it. That silent gesture was a wall she couldn't climb, a connection she couldn't understand. She hated it. She hated him.
(Iruka Umino's Perspective)
Iruka reviewed the final year's class rankings, a thoughtful frown on his face. The results were predictable, yet still surprising. Sasuke Uchiha was at the top in nearly every category—weaponry, history, ninjutsu theory. But right behind him, sometimes even equaling him, was Deva.
His file was a mystery. No clan. A civilian mother who ran a flower shop. Yet his test scores were perfect. His execution of the basic three jutsu was flawless. And his taijutsu scores had shown a growth curve that was steeper than anything Iruka had ever seen.
He glanced out the window at the three of them. Naruto was failing, his immense chakra still too chaotic for him to control. Sasuke was a prodigy, driven by shadows Iruka could only guess at. And Deva was the fulcrum on which they both balanced, the quiet center of their universe. The bento pact, an act of simple kindness, had held them together for years. Iruka prayed that whatever bond they had forged, however strange, would be enough for the world they were about to enter.
(Deva's Perspective)
The day of the graduation exam arrived. The test was the Clone Jutsu. The years of absorbing Naruto's blueprint had transformed him. His chakra reserves were vast, and his hyper-sensitivity gave him absolute control.
When his name was called, he walked to the front of the room. "Three clones are all you need, Deva," Iruka said with an encouraging smile.
Deva formed the hand seal. He drew on his chakra, a calm, powerful river, and channeled it perfectly. With a single, soft pop, three solid, identical clones stood beside him. It was effortless.
"Excellent. Perfect as always. Congratulations, Deva," Iruka said, handing him his Konoha headband.
Deva gave a slight bow and walked out into the hall. He leaned against the wall, the cool metal of the headband in his hand. He had done it.
A few minutes later, Naruto trudged out of the room, his expression hollow. He had failed.
Their eyes met. Deva felt nothing but a detached sense of observation. Naruto's failure was the logical result of an uncontrolled power source. It was a problem Deva had solved for himself years ago by stealing the boy's own potential.
He tied the headband around his forehead. Outside, he saw Sasuke waiting, his own headband already in place. Sasuke's eyes met his, and there was no friendship in them, only the sharp, burning promise of their continuing rivalry. A few feet away, Naruto sat on the swing, alone.
The Academy was over. The silent pact had held. But now, they were shinobi. And the storm was just beginning.