The ninja academy training hall buzzed with energy. Children chatted, some practicing basic jutsus while others waited for Iruka to appear, restless and excited. The scent of sweat and polished wood filled the air, punctuated by the faint squeak of tatami mats under shifting feet.
Akihiro sat in the back, the katana discreetly resting beside him. Merely having it near made his heart pound — if anyone discovered it, he knew he'd endure a lecture until he lost all his hair. He flexed his fingers around the hilt, feeling the familiar weight and the tiny surge of confidence it gave him.
As usual, Naruto was in the center of the room causing chaos.
"Today I'll show my secret jutsu!" he shouted, attempting a complicated hand seal. "You're all gonna see!"
Predictably, it resulted in a sudden puff of smoke and Iruka's sharp cough of exasperation.
"Naruto! Sit down and be quiet!"
The children erupted in laughter. Among them, Kiba nudged Akihiro.
"Hey, what's that?" he asked, pointing at the sword.
Akihiro felt his blood run cold.
"Nothing. A toy," he muttered.
"A toy, huh?" Kiba grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then show us. Let's see if you can actually use it."
Within moments, a circle had formed. Children were like that: any excuse became a spectacle. Even Iruka sighed but allowed it — training was training, after all.
Akihiro gripped the katana tightly. His palms were slick with sweat. Damn… what now? I've only played in the grove… I'm not ready to show anything.
Kiba advanced first, fists raised.
"Come on, mighty swordsman!"
Instinctively, Akihiro lifted the katana. The clash came sharp and sudden — and to everyone's surprise, Kiba's punch slid off the blade. The movement was fluid, almost instinctive, as if his body remembered a rhythm his mind didn't yet comprehend.
The circle of classmates murmured.
"What? He blocked it?!"
"But… it doesn't even look like he trained for this!"
Kiba growled, circling for another strike. Akihiro shifted back, sliding on the tatami, the sword following with precision to deflect a second blow.
Then Akihiro countered, not with a cut but a quick jab using the blunt edge against Kiba's shoulder. The push sent Kiba staggering a few steps back.
Silence fell over the circle.
Naruto, mouth agape, was the first to shout:
"WHOA! THAT WAS AWESOME!"
Hinata, watching shyly from the corner, turned crimson, burying her hands in her lap.
Akihiro, meanwhile, thought frantically:
Wait. This wasn't supposed to go this… smoothly. I was only trying not to embarrass myself.
Kiba lunged again, faster this time. Akihiro parried the incoming punches, the sword spinning slightly in his grip as he sidestepped, barely avoiding a wild swing. He feinted to the left, then pivoted, sweeping the blade low to trip Kiba, who jumped just in time.
The back-and-forth intensified. Kiba threw a series of jabs and hooks, and Akihiro dodged, deflected, and countered with small, precise taps of the blunt edge.
Each move flowed into the next — a rhythm forming spontaneously. Children leaned forward, amazed, whispering among themselves.
"Did he… actually know what he was doing?" one of them whispered.
"He's not supposed to be good with weapons!" another added.
Akihiro ducked under a high swing, then spun, the blade grazing Kiba's shoulder again with a light tap.
His arms burned, sweat dripped into his eyes, but he couldn't stop now. He felt a strange exhilaration, a connection between his body and the katana that had never existed with his Gentle Fist training.
Kiba, panting but still defiant, lunged one last time. Akihiro timed it perfectly, sidestepping and giving a precise tap to Kiba's side, sending him stumbling back. The circle erupted in cheers.
Naruto clapped wildly, while some of the other kids gawked, their envy clear. Kiba rubbed his side, muttering under his breath but clearly impressed.
Iruka approached, expression serious. He took the sword from Akihiro, inspecting it.
"This isn't a toy. But… your posture… it's interesting. Have you been training alone?"
Akihiro swallowed.
"A… little," he admitted.
The teacher sighed, returning the katana."This isn't typical for a Hyūga… but it may not be bad. Keep training. Carefully."
Akihiro sat back down, heart still hammering. No… no way. This isn't talent. Just luck.
But deep down, he knew the truth: while he failed repeatedly in his clan's training, the sword had already begun responding to him, moving with a speed and intuition far beyond normal.
And that realization left a thrill of possibility burning in his chest.