The rainy season settled in fully.
Grey skies became routine. Muddy streets, dripping rooftops, the constant rhythm of water against wood — all of it blended into daily life.
For most children, it meant staying indoors.
For Uchiha Kaen, it meant urgency.
The academy age was approaching. Once enrolled, eyes would be on him — instructors, clan observers, villagers already cautious of Uchiha children.
Secrecy would become harder.
So this period… this quiet stretch before formal training began…
Was precious.
And Kaen intended to use every second.
His mornings started earlier now.
Sometimes before sunrise, when even patrol shinobi moved sluggishly through the rain.
He ran longer distances, pushing stamina first. Strength would come naturally with growth, but endurance — that decided survival.
Wet ground made balance tricky, which he actually appreciated. Slipping conditions forced body control, reflex adaptation.
Observation Haki helped too.
Not dramatically yet — but enough to sense terrain shifts, falling droplets, nearby presence. Each small improvement mattered.
Armament Haki training became more deliberate.
He focused on tension control:
Clenching fists while regulating breath.
Imagining invisible armor coating his skin.
Repeating impact drills against wood, stone, sometimes water surfaces.
Progress was slow.
But once, during an intense session, he felt it clearly — a fleeting hardness wrapping his forearm as his strike landed.
The wooden post cracked slightly.
Kaen froze afterward.
Not fear.
Caution.
That kind of progress had to stay hidden.
So he rotated training spots often. Different abandoned corners, forest edges, rooftops. Never a consistent pattern.
Secrecy was survival.
Conqueror's Haki remained dormant.
Still, he trained mindset alongside body.
Cold showers.
Long fasting periods when food allowed.
Mental focus exercises — holding eye contact with aggressive animals until they backed away.
Not forcing awakening.
Just preparing for it.
Because if his past-life anime knowledge held even partial truth, Conqueror's Haki came from will… presence… refusal to yield.
Kaen had plenty of that already.
Life made sure.
Hitomi noticed the change.
She never complained about his longer absences, but one evening she asked quietly:
"You're preparing for something, right?"
Kaen paused.
Rain tapped steadily against their repaired roof.
"Yes."
"For the academy?"
"And for everything after."
She didn't ask further.
Instead, she handed him a cloth towel and a small rice portion she'd saved from her share.
That silent support meant more than words.
Politically, nothing improved.
Villagers remained polite but guarded toward Uchiha. Clan elders remained distant toward their orphans. The allowance kept coming — barely enough, but steady.
Kaen watched both sides carefully.
Neither enemy.
Neither reliable.
So he continued walking his own line.
As weeks passed, physical changes showed:
Better posture.
Steadier gaze.
Movements becoming efficient, almost shinobi-like already.
Still a child.
But not fragile anymore.
And inside him, something subtle grew — not just strength.
Confidence.
Not arrogance.
Certainty.
One evening after an especially intense session, Kaen stood atop their roof watching lightning ripple across distant clouds.
The academy would come soon.
New relationships. New risks. New politics.
Maybe even future legendary figures — if his past-life memories were accurate.
Jiraiya.
Tsunade.
Orochimaru.
He didn't feel excitement exactly.
More like readiness.
Because Kaen understood something most children didn't:
The academy wasn't safety.
It was just another battlefield.
Inside the house, Hitomi called softly:
"Dinner's ready."
Kaen glanced back once more at the storm clouds.
Then he stepped inside.
Training would continue tomorrow.
And the day after.
Until no storm — political, emotional, or physical — could catch him unprepared