The ice sphere haunted his thoughts.
Not because it frightened him.
Because it excited him.
That realization frightened him.
Haruki sat in class, staring at the chalkboard while Daichi explained mission classifications.
D-Rank.
C-Rank.
B-Rank.
A-Rank.
S-Rank.
The words blurred together.
His mind remained at the canal.
At the moment the water had frozen.
At the proof that his father's stories had been real.
"Haruki."
He blinked.
The classroom stared at him.
Daichi stood at the front of the room.
Waiting.
Haruki immediately realized he'd missed a question.
"What is the primary purpose of a shinobi?"
The answer should have been easy.
Several students were already smirking.
Waiting for him to fail.
Haruki thought for a moment.
Then answered honestly.
"To survive."
The smirks disappeared.
The classroom grew quiet.
Daichi's expression didn't change.
Yet something flickered in his eyes.
Recognition.
"Correct."
Several students looked surprised.
Apparently they had expected something more heroic.
The instructor continued the lesson.
But Haruki noticed Daichi glance toward him several times afterward.
As though evaluating something.
The lesson continued outdoors.
The morning mist covered the training grounds.
Students gathered around wooden targets.
Practice weapons rested in baskets nearby.
Today's topic wasn't combat.
It wasn't chakra control.
It wasn't even ninjutsu.
It was fear.
A strange subject for an Academy lesson.
At least until Daichi began speaking.
"Fear keeps people alive."
The students exchanged confused looks.
The instructor folded his arms.
"Many of you think courage means not being afraid."
He shook his head.
"That's foolish."
The class fell silent.
Daichi rarely spoke this seriously.
"When someone stops fearing danger, they become careless."
His gaze swept across the students.
"Careless shinobi die."
No one laughed.
No one interrupted.
This was Kirigakure.
Everyone knew those words weren't theoretical.
Daichi pointed toward the forest beyond the training grounds.
"Today we're conducting a survival exercise."
Immediately, interest spread through the group.
The instructor continued.
"You will work in teams."
That produced groans.
Everyone had preferences.
Everyone had people they wanted—or didn't want—to work with.
Daichi ignored the complaints.
"As a team, you must locate a marked object hidden in the training area."
Simple enough.
Then he smiled.
That worried everyone.
"While avoiding me."
The groans became significantly louder.
An hour later, Haruki crouched behind a fallen tree.
Rainwater dripped from the leaves above.
Beside him sat Ren and the black-haired girl, whose name he had finally learned was Akari.
An unfortunate pairing.
Mostly because none of them enjoyed taking orders.
"We should split up."
Ren whispered.
Akari immediately shook her head.
"That's stupid."
Ren frowned.
"You haven't even heard my plan."
"If your plan starts with splitting up, it's stupid."
The argument began instantly.
Haruki ignored them.
Instead, he listened.
The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
Daichi was somewhere nearby.
Watching.
Waiting.
The thought reminded him of his father.
Of old lessons learned in hidden forests far from Kirigakure.
Observe first.
Move second.
A twig snapped.
Haruki's head turned immediately.
"Down."
His voice came out barely above a whisper.
Both teammates reacted.
A moment later, Daichi appeared.
Walking casually through the trees.
The instructor wasn't searching randomly.
He moved with purpose.
Like a predator.
Like someone who knew exactly where prey would hide.
The comparison made Haruki uncomfortable.
Daichi paused.
Less than twenty meters away.
The students remained perfectly still.
Several seconds passed.
Then the instructor continued walking.
Only after he disappeared did anyone breathe.
Ren stared.
"How did you hear that?"
Haruki shrugged.
"Luck."
Akari snorted.
Nobody believed that.
They eventually found the objective.
A small wooden marker tied to a tree branch.
Simple.
Easy.
The difficult part came afterward.
Returning without being caught.
The trio moved carefully.
Slowly.
Silently.
At least until Ren stepped on a branch.
The crack echoed through the forest.
Everyone froze.
A heartbeat later, Daichi appeared.
As if summoned by fate itself.
"Found you."
The instructor smiled.
The students immediately ran.
Branches whipped past Haruki's face.
Mud splashed beneath his sandals.
Ren sprinted beside him.
Akari somehow remained ahead of both.
Daichi followed.
Not running at full speed.
Not even close.
Yet somehow gaining ground.
The difference between Academy students and an actual shinobi became painfully obvious.
Haruki's lungs burned.
His legs ached.
The instructor drew closer.
Fear crawled up his spine.
Real fear.
Not classroom fear.
Not imaginary fear.
The kind that made every instinct scream.
Move.
Faster.
Now.
Then he understood.
Fear wasn't weakness.
Fear was information.
His father had known that.
Daichi knew that.
Fear highlighted danger.
Fear sharpened awareness.
Fear forced action.
The problem wasn't fear itself.
The problem was allowing fear to control you.
The realization struck him like a lightning bolt.
Haruki slowed.
Only slightly.
Enough to think.
Enough to observe.
Daichi was herding them.
Predicting where they would run.
Predicting their panic.
Predicting their mistakes.
Because fear made people predictable.
"Left."
Ren blinked.
"What?"
"Left!"
This time both teammates listened.
The trio abruptly changed direction.
Through a narrow section of trees.
Across a shallow stream.
Toward difficult terrain.
Not the easiest route.
The unexpected route.
For the first time, Daichi actually had to adjust.
The tiny advantage proved enough.
Moments later, the students burst from the forest and crossed the finish marker.
Safe.
Exhausted.
Victorious.
Hours later, after the exercise ended, Haruki sat alone near the Academy docks.
The sea stretched endlessly before him.
Gray water beneath gray skies.
A familiar sight.
He thought about the lesson.
About fear.
About survival.
About the bloodline hidden inside him.
For years, fear had guided his life.
Fear of discovery.
Fear of persecution.
Fear of losing people.
Fear of becoming weak.
Some fears were justified.
Others weren't.
The difference mattered.
His father hadn't hidden the Yuki name because he was a coward.
He had hidden it because he understood reality.
Because survival came first.
Strength came later.
Haruki looked down at his hands.
The same hands that could now create small amounts of ice.
The same hands that still weren't strong enough.
Not yet.
But someday.
As the sun began to set, Haruki rose from his seat.
The village lights slowly flickered to life.
Mist drifted across the harbor.
Another day ended.
Another lesson learned.
Fear wasn't an enemy.
Fear was a tool.
A warning.
A guide.
And if he wanted to survive the future awaiting him, he would need to learn when to listen to it—and when to ignore it.
Because far beyond the Academy, beyond Kirigakure itself, a war was slowly approaching.
A war that would eventually force every shinobi in the Five Great Nations to confront exactly what they feared most.