The days at the Academy had begun to blur together. Drills, lessons, and exercises followed one another in a predictable rhythm, offering little room for surprises. For Tomaru, however, this routine was a lifeline. The basics gave him space to adjust to this world without falling behind his peers, though he knew he couldn't stay comfortable for long.
Leaning against a tree during a rare break, his journal balanced on his lap, Tomaru's pen moved steadily across the page. The words he wrote were a mix of observations and scattered thoughts, each one a reminder of what lay ahead.
He closed the journal with a sigh, pushing aside his doubts. His gaze wandered across the training grounds, where his classmates were scattered in small groups. Naruto was being his usual loud self, challenging Kiba to an impromptu spar.
"I'm gonna be Hokage, so you better bring your A-game, Kiba!" Naruto declared, throwing wild punches in the air.
"Yeah, yeah, save it for the fight, loudmouth," Kiba retorted, rolling his eyes.
"I'm way faster than you, Kiba! Watch!" Naruto shouted, attempting an awkward cartwheel before landing flat on his back.
Kiba doubled over laughing.
"If that's your idea of speed, Naruto, you're doomed!"
Tomaru smiled faintly at the chaos. Despite his occasional frustration with Naruto's loud personality, he couldn't deny that the guy made the grind of Academy life bearable.
Then came the sound of shuriken hitting wood—sharp, precise, and unmistakable.
Tomaru turned his head to see Sasuke standing at the target range, effortlessly throwing shuriken one after another. Each one struck dead center, splitting the bullseye with a level of precision that bordered on unfair.
And then, the inevitable happened.
"Kyaa! Sasuke-kun is amazing!" came a chorus of voices.
Tomaru winced as a gaggle of fangirls, led by Sakura, gathered a few meters away from Sasuke. Their collective squeals pierced the air, accompanied by a flurry of whispers about his skills, his hair, and—of course—his cool demeanor.
"Sasuke-kun doesn't even need to try," Sakura sighed dreamily.
"Of course! He's a natural prodigy." another girl added.
Tomaru rolled his eyes, stifling a laugh.
*The guy barely even acknowledges their existence, and yet here they are, treating him like a hero.*
He glanced at Sasuke, who appeared completely unaffected by the attention. With his usual cool detachment, he picked up another shuriken and threw it, hitting the bullseye again without even glancing at the target, which somehow made him even more irritating.
"Kyaa!" the fangirls cried out in unison.
*Must be nice to have a fan club for breathing,* Tomaru thought wryly.
*I'm over here struggling to make sure I don't trip during warm-ups.*
The thought stung, but it was quickly replaced by determination.
*I don't need to be him,* Tomaru thought, flipping his journal to a fresh page.
*I just need to be better than I was yesterday.*
---
The afternoon sun was warm as the class gathered on the training grounds for sparring practice. Iruka stood at the center, clipboard in hand, calling out names to pair students for matches.
"Tomaru and Kiba! You're up next!"
Tomaru stepped into the sparring circle, his heart pounding with both anticipation and dread. Across from him, Kiba cracked his knuckles, a wide grin on his face.
"This'll be fun," Kiba said, dropping into a loose fighting stance. Akamaru barked from the sidelines, wagging his tail in support.
Tomaru nodded, his stance more measured. He had spent countless hours practicing taijutsu drills, but sparring was different—dynamic, unpredictable.
Iruka gave the signal, and Kiba wasted no time, lunging forward with a burst of energy. His punches were fast and relentless, forcing Tomaru to focus entirely on dodging.
"You're gonna have to do better than that!" Kiba taunted, throwing a sweeping kick that narrowly missed.
Tomaru clenched his jaw, his mind racing.
*Stay calm. Watch his movements.* He stepped back, creating distance, and observed Kiba's stance. There was a slight hesitation before each strike, a pattern in his attacks.
The next time Kiba lunged, Tomaru sidestepped and countered with a quick jab to the shoulder. The hit wasn't strong, but it threw Kiba off balance for a moment.
"Not bad," Kiba said, regaining his footing.
"But I'm just getting started!"
The sparring continued, each exchange more intense than the last. Tomaru's movements grew more fluid, his strikes more deliberate. He wasn't winning, but he wasn't losing either—a small victory in itself.
By the time Iruka called for a pause, both boys were breathing heavily, their foreheads slick with sweat.
"Good work, both of you," Iruka said, his tone encouraging.
"Tomaru, your technique is improving. Keep it up."
Tomaru nodded, a flicker of pride in his chest.
---
The sun dipped below the horizon as Tomaru made his way back to his apartment. The streets of Konoha were bathed in a warm, golden light, the chatter of villagers filling the air.
Once inside, he set his bag down and collapsed onto his futon, exhaustion washing over him. His arms ached, and his legs felt like lead, but it was a satisfying kind of pain—the kind that came from pushing limits.
Reaching for his journal, he flipped to a new page and began to write:
**Sparring Notes:**
- Kiba relies on speed and aggression. Exploit his patterns.
- My footwork is improving, but I need more stamina for longer matches.
- Observe movements carefully. Small details make a big difference.
Setting the journal aside, Tomaru leaned back, his thoughts drifting to the Tenseigan. He hadn't used it during the sparring session, but its power hummed faintly beneath the surface, a constant reminder of what he carried.
*I can't rely on it,* he thought.
*Not yet. I need to be strong without it first.*
The room was quiet except for the faint sounds of the village outside. Tomaru closed his eyes, letting the tension in his body ebb away. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, he allowed himself a moment of peace.
—
"Chakra control is the foundation of all shinobi techniques," Iruka's voice cut through the classroom chatter like a kunai.
The students quickly fell silent as Iruka held up his hand, a faint glow of chakra gathering in his palm.
"Without precision, even the largest chakra reserves are wasted. Efficiency is what separates the average ninja from the elite."
With a flick of his wrist, Iruka sent a kunai flying across the room using only a controlled burst of chakra. It struck the bullseye on a distant target with a clean
*thunk.*
A collective murmur of awe rippled through the classroom. Even the ever-distracted Naruto seemed impressed, his jaw hanging open slightly.
"Whoa!" Naruto exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his seat.
"I can do that! Watch me, Sakura!"
Sakura groaned, burying her face in her hands.
"Naruto, just stop. You're embarrassing yourself."
The demonstration wasn't new to Tomaru—he'd read about chakra control in textbooks and practiced small exercises in private.
Tomaru leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched Iruka demonstrate. While the technique was undoubtedly impressive for most of the class, it hardly fazed him. Chakra control was one area where he excelled without even trying, his control was leagues ahead of his peers, a gift granted by the Tenseigan.
He glanced at Sasuke, who was intently focused on Iruka's movements. The Uchiha's precision and skill were undeniable, but Tomaru couldn't help but notice the slight tension in his expression—a determination to prove himself.
Sasuke doesn't like losing, Tomaru mused, suppressing a smirk.
Tomaru knew he could perform the exercise flawlessly, even surpassing their instructor if he wanted to. His control over chakra wasn't just natural—it was effortless. The Tenseigan had granted him an unparalleled mastery over the flow and balance of energy in his body, even when its power wasn't actively engaged.
Still, he chose not to show off.
Sasuke took his turn, his shuriken flying through the air with precision as he manipulated it using chakra. It wasn't perfect—one of the shuriken landed just outside the bullseye—but the faint gasps and murmurs from the fangirls were enough to inflate Sasuke's ego.
"Kyaa! Sasuke-kun is amazing!" Sakura squealed, her voice cutting through the room.
"Perfect as always!" another girl chimed in.
Tomaru sighed quietly, hiding his amusement.
The guy's good, no question, but the fangirls give him way too much credit.He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Oh, man... That's just basic chakra control, he thought sarcastically. For a brief moment, he entertained the idea of showing off his own skills, imagining himself landing a flawless kunai throw and finishing with Khaby Lame's iconic hand gesture. The image made him smirk.
"Alright, next," Iruka called out, scanning the room.
When Iruka called Tomaru's name, he rose from his seat and approached the target range.
Tomaru knew he could outshine Sasuke if he wanted to. He could make the kunai curve midair, strike multiple targets, or even land a perfect shot blindfolded. But instead, he took his turn and performed the exercise with quiet precision, hitting the bullseye cleanly and returning to his seat without a word.
No gasps. No fangirls squealing. Just silence and a faint nod of acknowledgment from Iruka.
And that was exactly how Tomaru wanted it.
As he returned to his desk, Ino glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Good job, Tomaru," she said casually, loud enough for him to hear but subtle enough to avoid attracting attention.
Tomaru gave her a polite nod in return, feeling a flicker of warmth at her acknowledgment.
—
As the lesson moved forward, Tomaru found himself zoning out, his thoughts trailing back to the exercise. It wasn't often he felt the need to hold back, but blending in was better than drawing unnecessary attention.
"You're pretty quiet today," Ino's voice broke through his thoughts.
Tomaru glanced up to see her perched on the desk next to his, her blonde hair catching the sunlight streaming through the window. Her playful grin was as radiant as ever as she leaned in slightly, closing the gap between them.
"What's on your mind?" she asked, feigning curiosity.
"Planning your next move to steal the spotlight from Sasuke?"
Tomaru chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"Hardly. He's got enough fangirls to keep him busy." Ino rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, well, maybe some of us like guys who don't act like they're too good for everyone." She shot him a wink before hopping back to her seat, leaving Tomaru slightly bemused.
Some of us? he thought, her words lingering longer than he expected.
As Tomaru returned to his seat, he noticed the stares. Some were curious, others envious. The girls whispered about his appearance, though their admiration was quieter than the loud adoration Sasuke received. A few boys exchanged knowing glances, likely annoyed by the attention Tomaru attracted.
Passing by Naruto's desk, Tomaru caught the blonde's exaggerated huff.
"Why do all the girls like guys like him and Sasuke? What about me, huh? I'm a future Hokage!" Naruto exclaimed.
Tomaru paused, glancing down at Naruto.
"Don't worry, Naruto," he said with a small smirk.
"Your time will come."
Naruto scowled but didn't respond immediately, his frustration simmering.
Why do they all like him? I'm the one with the awesome personality! He's just quiet and boring!
Even so, Naruto couldn't deny that Tomaru was different from Sasuke. Tomaru wasn't arrogant or dismissive. If anything, he seemed approachable, even if he didn't talk much.
"Fine!" Naruto finally said, crossing his arms.
"When I'm Hokage," Naruto declared, puffing out his chest, "I'll make sure everyone knows my name!"
Tomaru nodded solemnly. "I'll be sure to remind them when they forget."
Naruto paused, looking confused. "Wait—what do you mean, forget?!"