The relentless Konoha summer sun beat down on Training Ground Three, making the air shimmer above the packed earth. Dust kicked up by clumsy footwork and errant kunai throws hung suspended in the humid air.
Two years. Two years since Ryuu had first stepped through the Konoha gates, a terrified, bewildered child hiding an adult mind. Now, at six years old, he was slightly taller, leaner, the initial awkwardness of his small body replaced by a wiry resilience forged through relentless conditioning.
He still wore long sleeves and trousers even in the heat, a habit deeply ingrained, though Kasumi had finally allowed him slightly lighter fabrics. His wide-brimmed hat lay discarded beside his practice logs, his head covered in bandages to prevent burns from the sun. A pair of simple goggles rested above the bandages, shielding his sensitive red eyes from the glare.
"Man, I'm beat," Daichi Akimichi groaned, collapsing onto the shaded grass beside Ryuu with a heavy sigh that ruffled the discarded hat. He immediately pulled out a bag of rice crackers and began munching loudly. "Tamura-sensei wasn't kidding about doubling the conditioning drills before the break. My legs feel like noodles."
"Yours always feel like noodles after lunch," Kenjiro commented dryly, dropping down cross-legged nearby. He wiped a bead of sweat from his temple, his messy dark hair clinging damply to his forehead. Unlike Daichi, he looked barely winded, his breathing steady.
"Hey! It's fuel!" Daichi protested around a mouthful of cracker. "Akimichi need fuel! Besides," he grinned, nudging Ryuu with an elbow, "even Ryuu looks tired today, and he never looks tired."
Ryuu offered a small, noncommittal shrug.
He was tired.
The physical exertion of the Academy, combined with Kasumi's increasingly demanding private training, left little room for true rest. But complaining felt pointless. "The heat is draining," he said simply, taking a sip from his water canteen.
"Tell me about it," Kenjiro stretched, leaning back on his hands. "Almost makes you wish for an ice bath ya know." Glancing at the sky with a burnt out expression.
Ryuu focused on cleaning a practice kunai with a cloth. His control was better now. He could consistently stick the leaf, make it spin, even hover slightly. He had began sticking multiple leafs to his body, which was even harder than he had expected.
His Taijutsu was still his weakest area in direct confrontation, relying heavily on speed and prediction over strength, but Tamura-sensei's harsh critiques had forced him to be more decisive, less hesitant. He still lost more spars than he won against the physically stronger or technically gifted, but he was learning to make his opponents work for it.
"Speaking of tiring," Kenjiro continued, shifting his gaze towards the Academy building in the distance, "heard the final evaluations for early graduation wrapped up yesterday. Guess we know who passed."
"Yeah, Itachi-san, right?" Daichi asked, momentarily pausing his crunching. "Everyone's talking about it. Graduating at seven? That's insane! Even Kakashi-senpai wasn't that young, was he?"
"Different times, different circumstances," Kenjiro said vaguely, though Ryuu caught the flicker of complex emotion in his eyes – pride, perhaps, but also something else, maybe pressure or frustration. "Still, seven years old and already heading for Chunin exams soon probably. Makes you feel like a slacker."
"Speak for yourself!" Daichi puffed out his chest. "I'm mastering the Human Bullet Tank!"
Kenjiro rolled his eyes. "You mastered falling over with style, maybe."
Ryuu listened quietly. Itachi's early graduation was a significant canon event, proceeding apparently unaltered despite the changes since the Kyuubi attack. It seemed Itachi's innate genius was undeniable, regardless of the political climate surrounding his clan.
Ryuu wondered how Kenjiro truly felt, being related to not one, but two such prodigious Uchiha like Itachi and Shisui. Did it inspire him? Intimidate him?
"Think anyone else will graduate early from our year?" Yori Tanaka asked, joining their small group. He looked determined as always, wiping sweat from his brow with a focused intensity that suggested he'd been doing extra drills even during the break. "Maybe Asami-san? Or you, Kenjiro?"
Kenjiro shrugged. "Asami-san's got the precision, for sure. Me? Nah. Too much trouble filling out the paperwork early." His typical deflection, masking whatever ambition he might actually hold.
"Ryuu's smart enough," Daichi offered generously. "Maybe he could?"
Ryuu shook his head immediately. "My Taijutsu needs too much work," he stated honestly. It was true, but also a convenient excuse to avoid the scrutiny early graduation would bring. He needed more time, more training, more anonymity before stepping onto that faster track.
Their conversation drifted, touching on frustrating new katas, rumors about upcoming joint training exercises with other classes, the best place to get cheap dango after training (a topic Daichi dominated). It was typical Academy chatter, mundane yet informative. Ryuu mostly listened, absorbing the social currents, the casual exchange of information, the underlying rivalries and alliances forming amongst his year group.
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As the afternoon session loomed, threatening more laps and weapon drills, Kenjiro suddenly nudged Ryuu. "Hey, feel like grabbing ramen after this? Teuchi's place? My treat."
Ryuu blinked, surprised. Kenjiro rarely initiated social plans outside of walking partway home together. Usually, Ryuu tagged along cautiously if invited by Daichi or Yori. An invitation from Kenjiro, especially for ramen – a near-sacred ritual in Konoha, it seemed – felt significant. Was it just a casual offer? Or another attempt to gauge him?
"Uh," Ryuu hesitated, running through Kasumi's likely reaction. She preferred him home immediately after the Academy for their private training, but she also stressed the need for 'competence as camouflage,' which included a degree of social integration.
A brief ramen stop with a classmate, especially a prominent Uchiha, might fall under acceptable parameters. "Okay. Need to tell Kaa-san first, though."
"Sure, sure," Kenjiro waved dismissively. "Just meet there if she says yes. Daichi? Yori? You guys in?"
Daichi's eyes lit up. "Ramen? Definitely!" Yori hesitated, glancing at his own training logs, then shrugged. "Alright, but just one bowl. Need to work on my kunai angles later."
The afternoon session passed in a haze of sweat, dust, and aching muscles. Shuriken practice. Kunai drills. More Taijutsu fundamentals. Ryuu performed competently, his throws accurate but not flashy, his movements evasive, conserving energy where possible. He kept a careful eye on Kenjiro, whose throws were whip-fast and precise, easily among the best in the class.
When the final bell rang, Ryuu quickly sought out Kasumi, who waited patiently near the outer gates as always, her eyes scanning the departing students. He relayed Kenjiro's invitation, carefully phrasing it as a casual group activity.
Kasumi considered it for a moment, her gaze unreadable. Ryuu suspected she knew exactly who Kenjiro Uchiha was, likely having noted him during her own observations or through village records accessed via Minato's office. An Uchiha connection was risky, but perhaps also useful for monitoring the clan's sentiment.
"Alright," she conceded finally. "One hour. No longer. Be careful what you say. Come straight home afterwards."
"Yes, Kaa-san," Ryuu agreed, relief mixing with apprehension.
He met the others near the main road. Daichi was already bouncing with anticipation. Yori looked resigned but ready. Kenjiro offered a casual nod. They set off towards the village center, joining the flow of shinobi and civilians heading home or seeking evening refreshment.
Ichiraku Ramen wasn't far, a simple, open-air stand tucked between larger buildings, already emanating a delicious, savory aroma. Teuchi, the friendly, smiling owner, greeted them warmly. "Ah, Kenjiro-kun! Back again? And bringing friends!"
"Hey, Teuchi-san," Kenjiro grinned, sliding onto a stool. "Four bowls of miso ramen, extra pork for this one," he added, jerking a thumb at Daichi, who beamed.
They settled onto the stools, Ryuu choosing one slightly apart, allowing him to observe the street and the other patrons. He listened as Kenjiro, Daichi, and Yori chatted easily with Teuchi about Academy drills, annoying instructors, and the merits of different ramen toppings.
It was normal, mundane conversation, yet Ryuu felt a strange disconnect, an invisible wall separating his internal reality from their casual camaraderie.
He scanned the street absently. He saw a group of older Academy students, perhaps ten or eleven years old, joking loudly as they passed. Further down, he caught a glimpse of a Jonin with gravity-defying silver hair and a mask walking quickly in the opposite direction – Kakashi, unmistakable even at a distance, likely heading towards or from a mission or training, already exuding that aura of competence and underlying sorrow Ryuu remembered.
He quickly looked away, avoiding drawing attention. Seeing these figures, living their lives years before the major events Ryuu knew were coming, was always a strange, dislocating experience.
The ramen arrived quickly – steaming bowls filled with rich broth, perfectly cooked noodles, slices of tender pork, and various toppings. It smelled incredible, a welcome change from dried fish and bitter roots. Ryuu ate slowly, savoring the warmth and flavor, while still listening to his companions.
"...and then Asami-san just sidestepped, tapped his wrist, and poof! Renji was on the ground complaining about numb fingers," Daichi recounted a Taijutsu spar with relish, gesturing emphatically with his chopsticks.
"Hyuga style is all precision," Yori nodded thoughtfully around a mouthful of noodles. "Hard to counter directly if you let them get close."
"Unless you're faster or stronger," Daichi argued, pointing at his own bicep, which even at his age showed considerable Akimichi bulk. "Just gotta overwhelm 'em!"
"Or smarter," Kenjiro interjected, slurping noodles with practiced ease. "Gotta disrupt their flow. Break their stance before they can strike. Anticipation." He paused, looking thoughtful, tapping his bowl. "Like how Ryuu sometimes manages to trip people up," he added, glancing at Ryuu. "It's not power, it's timing, finding that split-second imbalance when they commit."
Ryuu focused intently on separating a slice of pork from his noodles, offering no reaction to the analysis of his current limited strategy.
The conversation shifted, inevitably perhaps for boys their age starting to notice the dynamics within their class, towards the girls.
"Think Saki's kinda pretty," Daichi admitted, a slight blush creeping up his neck as he hastily stuffed more noodles into his mouth.
"She asks too many questions," Yori grumbled, frowning. "Tried sparring with her yesterday, felt like she was trying to read my next move before I even knew it."
"That's kind of her thing, Yori," Kenjiro pointed out dryly. "Yamanaka clan. Mind stuff. Useful, probably, but annoying if you're trying to hide something." He lowered his voice slightly, leaning in conspiratorially. "Personally, I think Rina's more interesting. She's fierce, you know? And Shiro's always watching everything."
"Dude, Shiro sheds like crazy!" Daichi complained, picking imaginary hair off his tunic. "Found fur in my lunch pouch last week."
Ryuu tuned out slightly again, the topic making him profoundly uncomfortable.
He was chronologically six, yes, but mentally almost thirty. Listening to his peers, barely out of infancy by his old world standards, discuss romantic or physical attraction felt fundamentally wrong, almost voyeuristic.
The chasm between his mental age and theirs made the subject unrelatable, even repulsive in this context. He couldn't perceive Saki, Rina, Asami, or any of the girls in his class as anything other than children. The concepts of romance, intimacy, relationships... they felt like artifacts from a buried life, impossible to even consider applying here.
"...what about you, Ryuu?" Daichi suddenly asked, turning his attention back, oblivious to Ryuu's internal discomfort. "Anyone you think is... y'know... nice?" ('Nice' being the safest word Daichi could likely manage).
Ryuu almost choked on a piece of narutomaki. He swallowed hard, fixing Daichi with a flat stare. "I am focused on training," he stated bluntly, his voice devoid of inflection, hoping the sheer lack of engagement would kill the topic.
Kenjiro chuckled softly, swirling the broth in his bowl. "Relax Ryuu… Gotta take a break sometime. Admire the scenery." He leaned back, a thoughtful, almost distant look entering his eyes again.
"Though... maybe you have the right idea. Relationships in this line of work..." He trailed off, shaking his head slightly with a maturity that seemed slightly beyond his years, perhaps echoing sentiments overheard from Shisui or other older Uchiha dealing with the complexities of shinobi life and duty. "It gets complicated."
Thankfully, Daichi, sensing the mood shift or simply reaching the bottom of his bowl with a loud, satisfied slurp, changed the subject back to Tamura-sensei's impossible stamina drills. Ryuu finished his own ramen in silence, grateful for the reprieve but unsettled by the brief, awkward dive into territory he was determined to avoid.
As they paid Teuchi (Kenjiro smoothly covering the bill as promised, flashing a surprisingly thick wallet for a six-year-old.) and stepped back out into the bustling evening air, Ryuu felt the familiar weight of his secrets settle back upon him. Even during this brief attempt at 'normal' childhood socializing, the disconnect was profound.
He was an actor, playing a role, surrounded by children whose lives felt both intimately familiar due to his knowledge and utterly alien due to his perspective.
"Well, heading home for real this time," Kenjiro said, stretching, appearing completely relaxed again. "Good ramen."
"Yeah! Best!" Daichi agreed enthusiastically, already patting his stomach. Yori nodded, looking like he was mentally calculating how many extra push-ups he needed to do.
"See you tomorrow," Ryuu offered, keeping his tone perfectly neutral.
He watched them head off – Daichi likely heading straight for a second dinner, Yori probably jogging towards a training ground, Kenjiro walking towards the Uchiha district.
Ryuu turned towards his own apartment sector, the solitary walk home feeling both familiar and isolating. He had spent an hour 'having fun', being a 'normal' kid.
But the effort felt draining, the performance taxing.
The brief glimpse of normalcy only highlighted the vast abnormality of his existence. He glanced up at the Hokage monument again, the stone faces impassive witnesses to his lonely struggle in the fading light.
He had years of this ahead – years of training, hiding, observin. Years of being alone in a crowd. He squared his small shoulders and walked on, the bitter smile returning briefly to his lips.