Kelvin Stone woke up late.
That alone already made the day suspicious.
Sunlight spilled through the thin curtains of his room, warm and unforgiving, landing directly on his face like it had a personal grudge. Kelvin groaned, rolled over, and buried his face in his pillow.
His body still felt heavy—like he'd run a marathon in his sleep. His muscles ached faintly, the good kind of ache, the kind that came from pushing too hard and surviving it.
*First day of the academy,* his mind reminded him.
His eyes snapped open.
"WAIT—"
He shot out of bed so fast he nearly tripped over his own blanket.
"Mom!" he yelled, scrambling into his clothes. "Why didn't you wake me up?!"
From the kitchen came his mother's calm voice. Too calm.
"Because you were already awake," she said. "You were talking in your sleep. Something about fire… and eyes."
Kelvin paused.
"…Okay..."
"What's the matter?"
His mother asked.
"…..!"
---
Kelvin rubbed his face hard, like he could wipe the memory away.
"Never mind that," he muttered, yanking on his sandals and grabbing his bag. "I'm late."
His mother leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching him with that look—half amusement, half worry. She'd been wearing that look a lot lately.
"You'll be fine," she said. "It's your first day, not an execution."
Kelvin snorted. "Same thing, depending on the teacher."
She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Eat," she said, sliding a bowl of food toward him.
Kelvin devoured it like a man preparing for war, barely tasting anything. When he stood to leave, she reached out and straightened his collar.
"Do your best," she said softly.
Kelvin nodded.
"Just wish dad was here"
"..Hey, you will be fine, I'm sure he will b here soon" she said patting him on his hair.
Kelvin smiled.
---
Kelvin Stone decided, very early that morning, that the academy bell had a personal vendetta against him.
The sound ripped through the air like an angry scream, echoing across the massive stone courtyard of the Ninja Academy. Students flinched, groaned, or jumped like they'd been stabbed with sound itself.
Kelvin winced and rubbed his ear.
The Ninja Academy was… loud.
Not battle loud—*kid* loud.
Three hundred voices collided in the courtyard, laughter, shouting, arguing, boasting. Clan symbols flashed everywhere: stitched on sleeves, carved into belts, worn proudly like armor before anyone had earned the right to wear it.
Kelvin walked through it all, shoulders tense.
*So this is it.*
He spotted Gifted almost immediately.
The clanless boy stood near the fountain, hands in his pockets, smiling like he'd accidentally wandered into the wrong party and decided to enjoy the snacks anyway.
Kelvin walked up beside him.
"You look too relaxed," Kelvin said.
Gifted glanced at him. "You look like you're about to fight the ground."
"…Fair."
They shared a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit.
Before either could say more, a sharp *crack* echoed through the courtyard.
Silence slammed down.
An old man stood at the front platform—short, wiry, dressed in simple academy robes. His back was turned as he wrote something on the board behind him.
"Welcome," the teacher said calmly, without turning around, "to your first official day as academy students."
Someone snorted.
A second later—
*Thunk.*
A stone flew through the air, fast and stupid.
Without pausing his writing, the teacher lifted one hand.
Caught it.
Didn't even look.
Then, with a gentle flick of his wrist, he sent it back.
*Thwap.*
A boy yelped.
"MY FOREHEAD—"
The teacher finally turned.
The stone-thrower lay on the ground, clutching his head, dignity leaking out of him.
"Consider that," the teacher said pleasantly, "your first lesson."
The courtyard exploded into laughter.
Kelvin laughed too—harder than he expected.
*Okay,* he thought. *Maybe this won't be so bad.*
---
Roll call took forever.
Names were called. Clans were announced. Gasps followed some of them. Whispers followed others.
When "Stone, Kelvin" echoed across the courtyard, there were no whispers.
No gasps.
Just silence.
Kelvin raised his hand anyway.
"Here."
Something about that stung.
Then—
"Gifted."
Kelvin blinked.
Gifted raised his hand, grinning.
"Still don't have a real name?" Kelvin whispered.
Gifted shrugged. "Names are heavy."
"Ranks will be heavier," Kelvin muttered.
Gifted laughed.
---
The rankings were posted just before lunch.
Three hundred names.
Kelvin scanned frantically.
*Stone… Stone… Stone…*
There.
**Rank 97.**
His stomach dropped.
Ninety-seven.
Out of three hundred.
It wasn't terrible.
But it wasn't good either.
His jaw clenched.
Gifted's voice came from beside him. "Hey! I'm forty—"
He paused.
"…nine."
Kelvin turned slowly.
"…Forty-nine?"
Gifted scratched his cheek. "Yeah. Turns out being decent at punching and terrible at reading still gets you somewhere."
Kelvin stared at him, disbelief all over his face.
"You failed half the theory questions," Kelvin said flatly.
"More than half."
"And you still beat me."
Gifted winced. "When you say it like that, it sounds mean."
Kelvin scoffed. "Enjoy it while it lasts, book-hater."
Gifted flushed, smiling anyway. "Hey, at least I know which end of a kunai goes forward."
Kelvin smirked. "Barely."
They both laughed.
But when Kelvin looked back at the board, the number *97* stared back at him like a challenge.
*I'll be the best,* he promised silently.
*No matter how long it takes.*
---
Classes were chaos.
Someone tried to summon water and soaked themselves.
A clan kid bragged too hard and tripped over his own feet.
Another student fell asleep during meditation and snored loud enough to echo.
Gifted raised his hand confidently during a practical explanation.
Then immediately answered the wrong question.
The teacher stared at him.
"…Sit down."
Gifted sat.
Kelvin leaned over. "Forty-nine, huh?"
Gifted buried his face in his hands. "Please stop talking."
They mingled with everyone—clan kids, no-clans, loud ones, quiet ones. Arguments started. Friendships sparked. Rivalries were born in stupid places.
And through it all, Kelvin felt it.
That pull.
That fire.
This was where he belonged.
By the time the sun dipped low, Kelvin walked home exhausted, smiling despite himself.
Tomorrow, he'd start climbing.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
And one day—
No one would ignore the name **Stone** again.