Morning arrived like nothing was wrong.
That alone made it unsettling.
The academy grounds were alive in their usual way — students arguing over breakfast, charms flickering lazily as people practised minor techniques on their way to class, laughter echoing through the stone corridors that had seen centuries of conflict and calm alike. The air smelled of paper, incense, and early summer rain that hadn't yet fallen.
Tobi noticed everything.
He always did.
Not because he wanted to — but because ever since the spar where he lost control, his senses refused to rest. The sword at his side felt heavier today. Not physically. Present. Like it was listening.
He adjusted the strap and kept walking.
Iruka was already ahead, half-asleep, hands in his pockets. Mizumi walked with her usual composure, posture straight, eyes scanning without looking obvious. Ren trailed behind, humming softly, tapping his fingers against his thigh in a rhythm only he understood.
Sumi walked beside Tobi.
They didn't talk.
They didn't need to.
But today, even that quiet felt… strained.
---
Training Grounds — Midday
The instructors called it a "controlled session."
That word had started to feel like a lie.
Pairs were assigned quickly. Defensive drills. Reaction control. No aggressive intent. No lethal techniques.
Tobi stood across from a second-year boy he barely knew — average build, steady stance, eyes sharp but not hostile. The kind of opponent meant to test discipline, not strength.
"Begin," the instructor said.
They moved.
At first, it was clean. Predictable. A step forward, a feint, a block. Energy flared briefly as barriers formed and dissolved. The ground beneath them hummed faintly with engraved seals meant to suppress excess force.
Tobi exhaled slowly.
Stay calm.
The boy lunged.
Tobi parried.
That's when it happened.
The seal beneath Tobi's feet flickered.
Just once.
So fast that anyone watching casually would have missed it.
But Tobi felt it.
A hollow sensation, like stepping where ground should be — and finding air.
His sword reacted.
Not drawn. Not activated.
It pulled.
Energy surged up his arm, sharp and wrong. Tobi's breath hitched as instinct screamed louder than thought. He twisted aside instead of countering, barely avoiding a strike that should've been harmless.
The boy stumbled back, confused.
"Hey—?"
The barrier snapped into place a heartbeat late.
The instructor frowned.
Mizumi's eyes narrowed.
Sumi stiffened.
Iruka felt it too — a pressure behind his eyes, familiar and humiliating. His charm sputtered, then stabilised, as if embarrassed.
Ren stopped humming.
---
"Reset," the instructor said, too quickly.
Tobi didn't move.
His hand trembled.
The sword was quiet now — too quiet — like it was pretending nothing had happened.
"Are you okay?" the other boy asked, uneasy.
Tobi nodded. A lie.
They resumed.
The second exchange was worse.
Not louder. Not stronger.
Just… unstable.
Every movement felt slightly delayed, like the world was thinking before responding. Tobi blocked again — and this time, the seal cracked audibly. A thin line spread across the stone beneath his boot before sealing itself again.
Gasps rippled through the students.
The instructor raised a hand sharply. "Enough."
Silence fell.
---
After that.
No punishment.
That was the problem.
They were dismissed with murmured reassurances. "Minor fluctuation." "Old infrastructure." "Happens sometimes."
No one met Tobi's eyes.
Except Sumi.
She waited until the others drifted away before speaking. "That wasn't your fault."
Tobi swallowed. "It felt like it was."
She hesitated — just for a second — then said nothing more.
That hurt worse.
---
Elsewhere — Unseen
High above the city, far from the academy's protective arrays, two figures stood where the wind screamed loud enough to swallow words.
Tokyo Tower loomed beneath them.
One leaned casually against the railing, coat fluttering, expression amused.
"The seal reacted early," he said.
The other didn't smile. "Because he's waking up."
A pause.
"That academy won't hold if this continues."
"Good," the first replied softly. "It was never meant to."
---
Night — Dormitory Hallway
Tobi sat on his bed, sword resting against the wall.
He hadn't touched it since training.
Iruka knocked once, then stepped inside. "You felt it too, right?"
Tobi nodded.
"It wasn't you," Iruka said quickly. " I-I lost control for a second as well."
Tobi looked up. "Then why does it feel like it's following me?"
Iruka didn't answer.
Down the hall, Mizumi stood alone, staring at a data-scroll she hadn't opened.
Sumi stood by the window in her room, fingers pressed to the glass, listening to the river she could no longer see — remembering her mother's silence.
And somewhere beneath the academy, far below the seals meant to protect it…
Something shifted.
Not attacking.
Not yet.
Just testing the cracks.