By now, Akio's routine had become familiar — not just to him, but to everyone around him.
He arrived early. He stayed late. He spoke when necessary. He wore simple, custom-tailored clothes that didn't match the era's shinobi fashion, and his snow-white hair and soft violet eyes still drew glances despite his efforts to blend in.
But in a class full of loud, eager-to-prove-themselves genin hopefuls, stillness was rare.
And Akio had mastered it.
Academy Courtyard – MorningAkio stood beneath a wide-leaved tree near the academy's practice field, his chakra leaf exercise extended beyond the lesson. Instead of his hand, the leaf now floated above his foot — a tiny, unstable disk held in place by subtle chakra adjustments.
He could already perform most chakra control drills with casual ease, but he continued practicing for one reason: precision.
"Man, you're still at it?" came Naruto's voice as he approached with a bowl of leftover ramen and a lopsided grin. "You ever take breaks?"
"This is a break."
Naruto frowned. "You're doing a chakra drill."
Akio finally glanced up. "Which keeps me from being dragged into anything annoying."
Naruto blinked, thought about that for a second… then grinned again. "That's kinda smart, actually."
Akio returned his attention to the leaf without replying.
They stood together in silence for a moment.
"You ever think about what team you're gonna get?" Naruto asked suddenly.
Akio paused, lowering the leaf into his palm. "I don't think about things I can't control."
Naruto slurped a mouthful of ramen and pointed his chopsticks at him. "Okay, seriously—who even raised you?"
Akio didn't answer, but a faint twitch of amusement touched his expression.
Classroom LectureIruka-sensei stood at the front of the room, drawing a diagram of chakra coils and tenketsu points on the board. His handwriting was crisp, but Akio's notebook already had a cleaner, more detailed version sketched out.
His mind wandered slightly as Iruka spoke.
Across the room, Sasuke sat near the front, answering a question on chakra molding without looking up. Even his posture was tense — coiled, focused, like he couldn't afford a moment's distraction.
Behind him, Ino was half-listening and half-glancing at Akio, thinking she was subtle.
Akio kept his expression flat, but he noticed. He always noticed.
In the back row, Shikamaru had already fallen asleep, his head resting on his arms. Choji quietly munched on chips beside him, notebook unopened.
Akio tapped his pen lightly against his desk, not out of boredom — but calculation.
He was beginning to understand something: these kids were not like him.
Not because they lacked potential. Some were incredibly gifted. But their lives, their reasons for becoming ninja — they were rooted in things Akio didn't have. Families. Rivalries. Friendships.
Akio had fragments. Ghosts.
But no roots.
Lunch Break – RooftopIt had become something of a pattern: Naruto would drag food upstairs, Akio would follow — not because he cared to eat in the open, but because it was quieter than the yard.
Today was no different.
They sat across from each other, Naruto chewing with reckless abandon while Akio picked at a small container of rice and fish.
"You know, you're kinda weird," Naruto said between bites. "Like… not in a bad way. Just weird."
"Because I don't talk much?"
"No. I mean yeah, but not just that. You're like… already grown up or something."
Akio looked at him. "You think too much."
Naruto nearly choked. "Me?!"
Akio tilted his head slightly. "Most people who talk that much are thinking more than they let on."
Naruto blinked. "…Wow. You're really weird."
Afternoon Sparring DrillsAkio was assigned to spar with a boy from the Inuzuka clan — sharp reflexes, loud taunts, aggressive style. The kind of fighter who thrived on chaos.
It didn't go well for him.
Akio moved smoothly, dodging every lunge and strike with almost surgical grace. Not flashy, just effective. When the boy tried to close distance with a feint, Akio parried with the flat of his palm and sent him stumbling.
Iruka called the match after barely thirty seconds.
"I wasn't even trying to hurt him," Akio said later, while rewrapping his fingers with chakra tape.
"I know," Iruka replied, smiling. "That's why I let it go on. You've got control most adults don't."
Akio nodded faintly, but his eyes drifted to the edge of the field, where some of the other kids were whispering.
He didn't need his eyes to know what they were saying.
He'd heard it before.
"He's too calm."
"He's hiding something."
"Isn't he from that strange clan?"
"That's not normal."
He turned away and walked back toward the classroom, slipping his mask back over his face.
Tengetsu Compound – Later That DayThe compound was quiet. It always was.
Akio crossed the garden path toward the private hall where Riku-sensei waited, sparring staffs laid out on the mat.
"You were stiff during the last counter," Riku said without greeting.
"I was distracted."
"By?"
"Everyone else."
Riku tossed him a short staff. "You don't need their approval."
"I'm not looking for it."
"Then don't let them take your rhythm."
They moved through three kata forms in silence. Riku corrected Akio's elbow placement once, then stepped back and observed. Akio completed the pattern three more times, more fluid each time.
"Good," Riku said finally. "But remember — your clan's dojutsu is feared for a reason. It's not just what it sees. It's how you use it once people know you have it."
"I haven't awakened it yet."
Riku gave him a look. "No. But you will."
Akio said nothing.
But deep down, a quiet tension had begun to build.
Later That NightAkio sat beneath the cedar tree again, notebook in his lap, pen still.
He had drawn something new.
A star — five-pointed, clean lines — encircled by three faint rings. Not because he'd seen it, but because he'd dreamed itthe night before.
It didn't feel like a fantasy.
It felt like a memory. Or maybe a prelude.
From within the compound house, he heard faint laughter — children training, practicing. He stood up and stepped inside, passing a small mirror near the hall.
He paused.
For a moment, just for a blink — his reflection didn't match him.
The face was his. But the eyes…
They weren't violet.
They weren't normal.
They shimmered faintly, with something deeper than color.
Something watching back.
Akio blinked again, and they were gone.
He didn't tell anyone.
[End of Chapter 8]