Asuma's challenge ended, but the tension did not.
Itsuki felt it clearly.
That familiar tightening inside his chest resurfaced, deeper this time. The confrontation had drawn attention from every direction—students, instructor, unseen observers.
His chakra responded accordingly.
Denser.
More stable.
The flow through his coils no longer flickered like a beginner's. It pressed outward with quiet confidence, edging closer to a threshold he could almost grasp.
Not yet.
But close.
Takeda Hiroto stepped forward at last.
"That's enough. Return to formation."
Asuma rose from the ground, face flushed but jaw set.
"Uchiha Itsuki," he said, voice steady despite the sting of defeat. "I'll surpass you one day."
There was no appeal to his father. No excuse.
Just resolve.
Itsuki regarded him for a moment.
Opportunity, he thought.
He turned slightly, hands resting behind his back. His gaze lifted toward the sky at a calm angle, sunlight catching against his profile.
"The ones I defeat," he said evenly, "I do not consider rivals."
A pause.
"I'll wait until you can stand where I am."
The field fell silent.
The words were not shouted.
They were not exaggerated.
They simply carried weight.
Asuma froze, eyes fixed on Itsuki's back.
For a fleeting second, something shifted inside him—not anger, not humiliation.
Determination.
At the edge of the grounds, Sarutobi Hiruzen drew slowly on his pipe.
Beside him, Uchiha Kazuma closed his eyes.
"He did not learn that from me," Kazuma muttered under his breath.
Hiruzen's gaze remained on the boy.
"He speaks like someone who believes it."
Kazuma did not reply.
The match rotations resumed.
Students stepped forward one after another, but the atmosphere had changed. Whispers lingered. Glances followed Itsuki more frequently now.
The son of the Hokage had been thrown cleanly.
The message was clear.
Itsuki returned to the line and exhaled slowly.
The internal resonance stirred again—stronger than before.
Not explosive.
Refining.
The Body Flicker Technique he had used earlier felt lighter under his control. When he imagined executing it again, he sensed an additional layer of acceleration available if he adjusted the flow of chakra slightly differently.
Wind.
A subtle integration of nature transformation at the moment of displacement.
He tested the idea mentally.
Yes.
By aligning chakra release at the instant of propulsion, he could reduce drag and amplify burst speed.
High control required.
But possible.
His lips curved faintly.
Found it.
He did not need to experiment immediately. That would come in private.
Quality over quantity.
Across the yard, Uchiha Obito stared in conflicted silence.
Nohara Rin watched with thoughtful admiration.
Kurenai's gaze lingered openly now.
Itsuki ignored it all.
Attention was useful.
Attachment was not.
A faint scent reached him on the wind.
Smoke.
Subtle.
Not from the training field. Not from the instructor.
Itsuki's eyes shifted without moving his head.
The Hokage's pipe.
So they're still watching.
He kept his expression neutral.
Good.
Let them watch.
If the village intended to measure him, he would give them something precise to measure.
But not everything.
Not yet.
Takeda called the next pair.
The wind brushed across the training ground again, stirring fallen leaves at the edge of the yard.
Itsuki closed his eyes briefly.
The Sharingan remained dormant.
He would not rely on it unless necessary.
Strength that depends on one pillar collapses when that pillar cracks.
He would build several.
Step by step.
Technique by technique.
Until no single night could erase him.