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Chapter 7 - The First Spark

Back to their classroom after lunch, the students filed in with varying degrees of enthusiasm and energy. The courtyard excitement—particularly the fight between Naruto and Kiba—still buzzed through quiet conversations and animated gestures. Some students were reliving the moment, reenacting the vault flip with exaggerated hand movements. Others were discussing their lunches or the friends they'd started to make.

The classroom felt different now than it had during introductions. The initial nervousness had worn off slightly, replaced by a cautious familiarity. These desks, these walls, this space—it was starting to feel like theirs. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows at a different angle, casting warm golden light across the rows of seats and making dust particles dance in the air like tiny fireflies.

Iruka stood at the front, waiting patiently for everyone to settle. He'd spent his lunch break reviewing his lesson plan and steeling himself for what was to come. Teaching chakra theory to first-day students was always challenging—some would grasp it immediately, having been prepared by their families, while others would struggle with the abstract concept of feeling something invisible inside themselves.

When the last few stragglers had found their seats and the chatter had died to murmurs, Iruka picked up a piece of chalk and tapped it sharply against the blackboard. The sound cut through the remaining noise like a blade.

"Alright, everyone, settle down!" His voice carried authority but remained warm, encouraging. This was the real beginning of their shinobi education.

The room fell silent almost instantly, every eye turning to the front. There was something in Iruka's tone that commanded attention—not through fear, but through the promise of something important, something they'd all been waiting for.

Iruka smiled faintly at their eager faces. "Today, we start something important. Something every shinobi must master—" he paused for dramatic effect, then wrote the word in large characters across the blackboard, "—chakra."

The word itself seemed to carry weight. Even spoken aloud countless times before in stories and explanations, seeing it written officially on the Academy blackboard transformed it into something real and tangible. The room went completely silent, the kind of profound quiet that only comes when children are genuinely captivated.

Iruka turned back to face the class, the chalk dust still settling around his hand. "Good. You've all heard the word before, I'm sure. Your parents have probably mentioned it. You've seen shinobi use techniques powered by it. But—" he pointed to the class with his chalk, "—who can tell me what chakra actually is?"

Several hands shot up immediately. Sakura's hand was arrow-straight, her face confident. Shikamaru's hand rose lazily, as if even the act of volunteering an answer was exhausting. A few others wavered uncertainly, wanting to participate but not entirely sure of their knowledge.

"Sakura," Iruka called on her first.

She stood, clearing her throat importantly. "Chakra is the energy that flows through a shinobi's body and allows them to perform jutsu. It's created by combining physical energy from the body's cells with spiritual energy from training and experience." Her answer was textbook-perfect, probably memorized from whatever preparatory materials her family had provided.

"Excellent," Iruka acknowledged with a nod. "Shikamaru?"

The Nara boy didn't bother standing. "It's troublesome power that we have to learn to control," he mumbled, resting his chin on his desk. "Makes everything more complicated."

A few students giggled. Iruka's mouth twitched with amusement despite himself. "An... interesting perspective. But yes, control is key."

His gaze swept across the room and landed on Naruto, who sat with his hand raised but with an expression that suggested he already knew everything being discussed. There was none of the desperate eagerness of someone hoping to be called on—instead, he looked almost relaxed, confident. Iruka noted this with a mixture of emotions he kept carefully hidden. Of course the Hokage's grandson would be well-prepared.

Naruto was indeed fully aware of everything being discussed. Since he'd turned four years old, Hiruzen had been feeding him information about chakra almost daily—during meals, during their evening talks, during their walks through the compound gardens. The concepts had been woven into his understanding of the world so gradually and completely that they felt as natural as breathing. He could even sense his chakra already, had been able to for months, though he'd never mentioned it to anyone except his grandfather and Asuma. The explanations Iruka was giving now felt like review rather than new information, and Naruto found himself feeling happy and excited that he understood, that he was prepared, that he wouldn't be left behind.

Iruka wrote several key points on the blackboard as he continued. "All of you are close to the truth. Chakra is the energy that flows inside every living thing. It's created by mixing your body's physical strength—" he tapped his arm for emphasis, "—with your spirit's will." He touched his chest. "Every breath you take creates it. Every movement, every thought, every beat of your heart contributes to your chakra reserves."

He let that sink in, watching the students' faces as they processed the information. Some looked fascinated. Others confused. A few, like Naruto and several of the clan children, looked unsurprised.

"The difference between a shinobi and an ordinary person," Iruka continued, pacing slowly in front of the blackboard, "is that a shinobi learns to feel their chakra, and then learns to control it. An ordinary person generates chakra throughout their life but never consciously accesses it. We, as future shinobi, must learn to do what they cannot."

He stopped pacing and faced the class directly. "To use any jutsu—even the simplest Clone Technique you'll learn in a few months—you first need to sense your chakra. Not just know it exists intellectually, but actually feel it moving inside you. So that's what we'll learn today. Right now. Your very first lesson in practical shinobi skills."

The students straightened in their seats, excitement and nervousness radiating through the room in equal measure. This was it. This was the moment they stopped being just children sitting in a classroom and started becoming real ninja.

Iruka stepped away from the board and folded his hands behind his back, his posture becoming less instructive and more meditative. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped to something gentler, more soothing.

"Everyone, close your eyes."

There was a rustle of movement as thirty students complied with varying degrees of obedience. Some closed their eyes tightly, faces scrunched with effort. Others let their eyelids drift shut naturally. Naruto closed his eyes but remained relaxed, already knowing what would come next.

"Sit still," Iruka continued, his voice taking on an almost hypnotic quality. "Don't think about your friends. Don't think about food. Don't think about the fight at lunch or what you'll do after school. Just... breathe."

The classroom fell into a profound silence. Outside, the faint sounds of older students training drifted through the open window—the thud of kunai hitting targets, the sharp calls of instructors, the rhythmic sounds of running feet. But inside this classroom, time seemed to slow, becoming thick and syrupy.

"Now," Iruka's voice was barely above a whisper, "focus on your breathing. Feel your chest rise... and fall. That's your body's energy—the physical strength that keeps you moving, keeps you alive. Pay attention to that sensation. The expansion of your lungs. The beating of your heart."

Several students' breathing became more pronounced as they focused on it, some almost hyperventilating in their concentration.

"Beneath that," Iruka continued, "deeper down, there's something else. Look inside yourself, past your breathing, past your heartbeat. There's a quiet warmth, just below your stomach, right around your navel. That's where your chakra core resides. That's the center of your spiritual energy."

Tenten, a girl with her hair styled in two buns, frowned visibly even with her eyes closed. She squinted one eye open, looking frustrated. "Iruka-sensei, I don't feel anything!" Her voice carried a note of panic—was she already falling behind?

Iruka chuckled warmly. "That's alright, Tenten. Most of you won't feel it at first. This is completely normal." He resumed his slow pacing between the rows of desks, his voice remaining calm and reassuring. "Don't force it. Forcing it will only push it away. Chakra isn't loud or aggressive. It's a whisper, not a shout. It's patient. It will wait for you to be ready."

Some students visibly relaxed at this reassurance, their tense shoulders dropping.

"If you keep your mind still and patient, you'll start to notice it—maybe a faint warmth spreading from your center, maybe a tingle in your hands or belly, maybe a subtle pulse that matches your heartbeat but feels different somehow. That's your chakra waking up, responding to your attention. Once you feel it, remember that sensation exactly. Memorize every detail of it. That's the first step toward becoming a real ninja."

The minutes stretched out. The silence deepened. Iruka continued his quiet encouragement, walking between the desks and observing the students with a practiced eye. He could see the ones who were genuinely concentrating versus those whose minds were wandering. He could identify the clan children who'd likely done this exercise before at home, their postures more confident.

Then, gradually, gasps began to ripple through the classroom.

"Oh!" a boy near the front exclaimed softly.

"I feel it!" a girl whispered, wonder coloring her voice.

"It's warm!" another student breathed.

Somewhere near the middle of the room, Tenten's eyes flew open wide, her expression transforming from frustration to amazement. "Whoa," she whispered, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. "It's... it's kind of warm! And it's moving!"

Iruka smiled knowingly from his position at the front of the room. "That's it, Tenten. That's chakra. Remember that feeling—hold onto it in your memory—because from now on, it's going to be the center of everything you do as a shinobi."

More students began reporting success. Sakura's hand shot up, eyes still closed, a smile on her face. "I can feel it too, sensei! It's like... like a warm current!"

"Excellent, Sakura."

Shikamaru, predictably, sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I feel it. Can we move on? This is boring."

"Patience, Shikamaru. Not everyone learns at the same pace."

Choji, still somehow eating chips despite the meditation exercise, paused mid-chew. "Hey... yeah, I do feel something. Huh."

Kiba pumped his fist. "Got it! This is cool! Akamaru, did you feel yours too?" The puppy on his head barked once.

Hinata's face remained serene, peaceful, and after a few minutes, she gave the smallest nod, too shy to announce her success aloud but clearly having achieved the goal.

Naruto sat quietly, his own chakra blazing bright and familiar in his awareness. He'd been sensing it for so long now that focusing on it felt as natural as focusing on his own breathing. But he didn't announce this, didn't draw attention to himself. Instead, he listened to his classmates' discoveries with genuine happiness. They were feeling it too. They were taking their first real steps.

An hour passed. The afternoon sun shifted further, the shadows in the classroom lengthening. One by one, nearly every student in the class reported feeling their chakra with varying degrees of clarity. Some described it as warmth, others as tingling, others as a subtle vibration. Iruka patiently acknowledged each one, offering encouragement and guidance.

But there was one student who remained silent. One student whose face grew increasingly distressed as the exercise continued.

Rock Lee sat at his desk, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly it looked painful. His hands were clenched into fists on his desk, his entire body rigid with effort. His breathing had become irregular, sometimes too fast, sometimes held for too long. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

But he felt nothing. No warmth. No tingling. No subtle pulse. Just... nothing.

As more and more classmates announced their success, Lee's distress became more visible. His jaw clenched. His shoulders hunched. The enthusiastic, bright-eyed boy who'd introduced himself with such passion earlier now looked like he was being crushed under an invisible weight.

Finally, unable to maintain the meditation any longer, Lee opened his eyes. They were wet with unshed tears of frustration. He looked around the classroom and saw peaceful faces, satisfied smiles, students who had achieved what he could not.

"Lee?" Iruka approached gently, noticing the boy's distress. "How are you doing?"

"I... I don't feel anything, sensei," Lee admitted, his voice small and cracking. "Everyone else can do it. But I don't feel anything at all."

Behind Lee, Naruto opened his eyes and immediately saw his classmate's slumped posture. Without thinking, he leaned forward and tapped Lee's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it! Sometimes these things take longer for different people, right? You'll feel it any moment now, I bet! Believe it!"

Naruto's encouragement was genuine and warm, but it seemed to make Lee feel even worse. If the Hokage's grandson could do it, if someone that important believed in him, what did it mean that he was failing?

Iruka knelt beside Lee's desk, his expression compassionate. "Rock Lee, listen to me. This is your very first day. Your very first attempt. Some people's chakra is quieter than others, harder to sense initially. That doesn't mean it's not there. It just means you need more time, more practice. And that's completely acceptable."

"But everyone else—" Lee gestured around the room.

"Everyone else has their own journey," Iruka said firmly. "A shinobi doesn't measure himself against others' speed. He measures himself against his own progress. Tomorrow, try again. The day after, try again. Keep trying, keep practicing, and I promise you'll feel it eventually."

Lee nodded miserably, but it was clear he didn't quite believe it. The excitement he'd carried into this classroom, the passion he'd declared during his introduction about proving himself through hard work—all of it felt hollow now. How could hard work help if he couldn't even accomplish the most basic task that literal six-year-olds were managing on their first try?

The hour dragged on. Iruka had Lee try several more times, adjusting his instructions, offering different visualization techniques, attempting various approaches. But nothing worked. Lee's chakra remained silent, inaccessible, locked away behind a door he couldn't find.

Eventually, the bell rang—a clear, sharp sound that announced the end of the period. Students opened their eyes fully, stretching muscles that had been held still for too long. Conversations broke out immediately as they compared their experiences.

"It felt warm for me!"

"Mine was more like a buzz!"

"I could almost see it behind my eyelids, like a glow!"

Rock Lee sat silent among the chatter, his head bowed, his enthusiasm from earlier completely extinguished. Naruto glanced back at him several times, wanting to say something more but not knowing what would actually help.

Iruka stood at the front of the class, calling for attention one more time. "Excellent work today, everyone. You've taken your first real step toward becoming shinobi. Now, I know this is your first day, and you might be surprised that we're moving quickly. But the truth is—" he looked around at the various clan symbols on clothing, the confident postures of certain students, "—most of you have likely been taught about chakra theory at home already. Your parents, your families, they've been preparing you for this since you were old enough to understand."

Several students nodded. It was true—for many shinobi families, teaching children about chakra was as fundamental as teaching them to walk or talk. It was part of their culture, their daily life. Even civilian families who'd been in the village for generations often had basic knowledge passed down.

"Because of this," Iruka continued, "we can move to practical application sooner than you might expect. In your next class, you'll have a different instructor who will begin teaching you not just to sense your chakra, but to control it—to move it through your body deliberately, to gather it in specific places, to prepare for eventually molding it into techniques."

Excitement rippled through the classroom again. Already? They were already moving to actual chakra control?

But before anyone could ask questions, Iruka's expression grew more serious. "However, I want everyone to understand something important. Some families practice chakra sensing at home. Some don't. Some of you come from generations of shinobi. Others are the first in your families to take this path. Neither situation is better or worse—they're simply different starting points. The Academy exists to teach everyone, regardless of their background."

His eyes drifted to Rock Lee, who sat hunched at his desk. Iruka felt a familiar pang of pity and concern. He'd seen this before—students who struggled with the basics, who couldn't sense their chakra despite desperate effort. Some eventually broke through. Others... others found different paths, or gave up entirely. He hoped Lee would be one of the former.

"Take this evening to practice at home," Iruka instructed. "Sit quietly before bed and try to sense your chakra again. Those who felt it today, try to find it faster, to feel it more clearly. Those who struggled—" he looked directly at Lee, "—don't be discouraged. Every shinobi develops at their own pace."

He moved toward the door, preparing to leave and allow the next instructor to enter. But he paused at the threshold, glancing back one more time at Rock Lee. The boy's expression was devastated, his earlier passion dimmed to ash.

Iruka's heart ached. He knew that look. He'd worn that look himself once, many years ago, when he'd been a struggling student dealing with personal tragedy. The difference was that Iruka had eventually succeeded. He hoped desperately that Lee would too.

With a soft sigh, Iruka stepped out into the hallway just as another figure approached—the next instructor, ready to take over the class for their practical chakra control lesson. Even on the first day, the Academy's curriculum was designed to move quickly with students who showed aptitude, building on foundations that most already possessed from home training.

Inside the classroom, the students chattered excitedly about what would come next, what new techniques they'd learn, how much closer they were getting to being real ninja.

All except one boy, who sat silent and discouraged, wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake in thinking he could become a shinobi at all.

The door slid open, and a new instructor stepped inside—

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