The classroom's atmosphere had shifted again, as it often did with every new season or assignment, but this time the change felt more… permanent.
Kushina Uzumaki was no longer just the loud new girl. She was part of the rhythm now, her energy woven into the very heartbeat of their class. The sparks she brought had lit more than tempers, they had stirred ambition.
Haruki noticed it in the way students approached training now: with a tighter focus, more competitive drive and more pride. They weren't just children mimicking shinobi anymore.
They were becoming them.
***
It started subtly.
One morning, after warm ups, Daichi sensei stood in front of the class, arms folded behind his back, and said simply:
"Half of you are ready for your first proper mission simulation."
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
Haruki exchanged glances with Sachi and Jun, his pulse quickening.
Daichi raised his hand. "Before you all start asking questions, no, it's not a real mission. You won't leave the Academy walls. But it will test your teamwork, improvisation, and ability to make real-time decisions under pressure."
Kushina practically bounced in her seat. "We're finally doing real shinobi stuff!"
A few students laughed, but even the quiet ones looked intrigued.
Daichi continued, "Temporary squads again. This will be an ongoing format. Your squadmates may change weekly. Today's teams have already been chosen."
Haruki's name was called alongside Jun and a quiet girl named Noriko, who was known for her exceptional sensory perception training. She was soft-spoken and kept mostly to herself, but Haruki had seen her catch even the smallest shift in chakra flow during chakra control drills.
Jun immediately pumped his fist. "We've got this!"
Noriko simply offered a nod.
***
Their scenario involved navigating a simulated enemy camp, retrieving a marked scroll, and escaping without being detected. They had two hours.
The Academy had converted part of its rear training grounds into a small forested maze, complete with traps, "enemy" observers, senior students dressed in ANBU like garb, and hidden clues.
Haruki took the lead naturally, not because he wanted to be the leader, but because the group seemed to fall into that rhythm. Jun was bold but lacked subtlety; Noriko was precise but quiet. Haruki was the middle ground, the thread that tied their actions together.
The mission wasn't smooth. Jun almost tripped a wire trap early on, and Noriko froze momentarily when one of the fake enemies passed too close. But they adjusted. Adapted. Improvised.
Haruki mimicked the exact hoot of a bird at just the right moment to signal a false location. Noriko sensed a chakra tripwire and rerouted them. Jun tackled a "guard" from behind with perfect timing, grabbing the scroll just before the hour mark.
They made it out, winded, scratched, and triumphant.
When Daichi announced their successful completion, a few students even clapped.
Haruki caught a glimpse of Minato, who offered him a small smile and a nod from across the courtyard. Haruki nodded back.
That evening, he returned home a little later than usual.
Kenji was working in the garden, sorting through a fresh harvest of herbs while Mika stirred something warm and rich smelling in the kitchen.
"You're late, little ember," Mika said, not looking up. "New drills?"
"Simulation," Haruki replied, kicking off his sandals at the door. "Mission-based. With teams."
Kenji glanced up, wiping his hands on a cloth. "And?"
"We finished with time left. I think we actually did pretty well."
He sat at the low table, stretching sore arms with a contented sigh.
Mika brought him a steaming bowl of stew. "You're smiling. That's a good sign."
Haruki grinned. "Yeah… I think we're starting to get it. Not just practicing anymore, it's starting to feel real."
Kenji nodded thoughtfully. "It's supposed to. Real enough to prepare you for when it truly is real."
The next few weeks passed in a blur of drills, group assignments, and steadily intensifying jutsu lessons. Daichi sensei introduced more chakra control techniques and began testing them with harsh practicals, holding a leaf suspended by chakra for a full minute under pressure, or balancing on narrow poles for hours while forming hand signs.
Some students rose to the challenge. Others cracked. Not everyone had the same drive or the same reasons for being there.
Haruki found himself watching them more now. Not judging, just noticing. Not everyone wanted to be a hero. Some just wanted to survive. Others were pushed here by family expectations or clan pressure.
Even among friends, paths could start to drift apart.
One particularly overcast afternoon, Daichi dismissed class early for a guest speaker.
Haruki had expected another veteran shinobi or visiting sensei.
He hadn't expected someone dressed in the uniform of the Uchiha Police Force.
The man stood tall, dark-haired, with a calm and commanding presence. His Sharingan wasn't active, but Haruki could feel the weight behind his gaze.
"I'm here," the man said, "to talk about responsibility."
The room fell into a deeper silence than usual.
"You're all here to learn how to become protectors. And to protect something, you must first understand what's at stake. In the village, our laws matter. And those who keep them… are shinobi, too."
Haruki leaned forward slightly, heart skipping.
The officer spoke about surveillance, patrols, and conflict resolution. About situations that didn't end in fights, but with words, pressure, and understanding. About how sometimes being a shinobi meant doing what was right, even when no one saw it.
Sachi listened closely too. Haruki glanced at her and saw something different in her expression, a recognition, maybe even admiration.
Afterward, when the officer left, Daichi nodded solemnly. "That man has stopped more wars than many jounin ever will."
Later that week, Haruki found himself watching the patrol routes of the Uchiha from a rooftop on the edge of the village's inner district.
He hadn't followed anyone. He just… ended up there. Thinking.
A question was beginning to form in his heart, though he didn't yet know how to say it.
He loved training. He loved jutsu. He loved the idea of defending the village with strength, but was strength always about power?
Sometimes, it seemed like strength was just standing between someone and danger. Like Duy had done. Like the Uchiha officer. Like his parents, even if they weren't shinobi.
He wasn't sure yet what his path would be.
But he wanted to walk it with his eyes open.
That night, Haruki sat at the small desk in his room, candlelight flickering softly as he wrote in his notebook.
Not all shinobi are the same. But all of them protect something.
He closed the notebook and looked out the window at the quiet village.
The flame within him didn't burn as wildly as Kushina's, or as cleanly as Minato's. But it burned steadily.
And it would not go out.