For most children, the Konoha Ninja Academy was where their dreams began. For Uchiha Ling, however, it was more like a carefully staged play—a battleground where he watched and was watched.
As a special student, he had been assigned to a mixed-age class. The curriculum far surpassed that for ordinary newcomers, focusing instead on Shinobi World history, chakra theory, tactical analysis, and high-intensity Taijutsu sparring. It was clearly a special arrangement by the Third Hokage, intended to uncover and guide his potential more quickly.
Ling's arrival stirred quite a commotion in the small class. His Uchiha identity, handsome yet aloof appearance, and composure utterly at odds with his age all made him stand out. Most of the children kept their distance, curious but a little apprehensive. A few young members of prominent clans, such as Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Choji, watched him cautiously from the sidelines.
Ling didn't care. His goals were clear: make use of the academy's resources to improve himself, and observe two people up close—Uzumaki Naruto (though Naruto was still far too young to enroll, Ling needed to make sure he was safe in the village) and Uchiha Sasuke.
That day, they had a practical sparring class.
Ling's opponent was a boy from the Hyuga Branch Family, two or three years older than him, named Hyuga Ko. Ko clearly had a fierce competitive streak toward the Uchiha, the Hyuga Clan's equal in reputation. He immediately assumed the opening stance of the Gentle Fist, his pale eyes openly challenging Ling.
"Uchiha, let's see if your Sharingan is really as impressive as the rumors say!" Hyuga Ko shouted. He pushed off the ground and lunged forward in an instant, both palms cutting through the air as he aimed for the vital points in Ling's chest and abdomen, trying to disrupt the chakra pathways in his body.
Ling stood perfectly still. Under the extraordinary perception and dynamic vision of his Sage Body, Hyuga Ko's movements seemed to slow several times over. The fierce strikes of the Gentle Fist were riddled with openings in Ling's eyes.
He didn't even activate his Sharingan.
Just as Hyuga Ko's palm was about to touch him, Ling's body slid half a step to the side at an exquisitely subtle angle, almost impossible to catch with the naked eye. At the same time, his right hand shot out like lightning—not to block, but to seize Hyuga Ko's wrist joint with pinpoint precision and pull.
"What?!" Hyuga Ko felt an irresistible force redirect his momentum. His balance crumpled, and the force of his charge was turned against him. Like a kite with its strings cut, he was tossed aside with effortless ease. He rolled twice across the ground before finally stopping, disheveled and humiliated.
The entire training ground fell silent.
Every student watching, along with the Chunin instructor, wore an incredulous expression. No flashy ninjutsu, no legendary Sharingan—just one simple move had countered an attack from the Hyuga Clan, famed for Taijutsu and pressure-point strikes?
"Good match." Ling calmly withdrew his hand, as if he had done nothing more than some trivial task.
Hyuga Ko's face flushed red. Humiliated and bewildered, he looked at Ling before finally lowering his head and retreating in silence. He had no excuse for losing.
But Ling's gaze didn't linger on Hyuga Ko. It passed over the crowd and landed on a black-haired boy standing alone against the wall at the edge of the training ground.
Uchiha Sasuke.
He wore a dark blue short-sleeved shirt with a high collar, his hands in his pockets. His handsome little face was expressionless, cold and lifeless. His eyes were empty, as if nothing around him mattered. Yet when Ling had easily defeated Hyuga Ko, a faint flicker passed through that emptiness, lasting only an instant: surprise, and a hint of something stirred within him—a feeling of comparison.
Ling knew that the experience of the night of the clan massacre weighed on Sasuke like a heavy shackle, binding his soul in hatred and loneliness. He was like a volcano sealed in ice, cold on the surface, with the flames of revenge burning within.
After class, Ling went over to Sasuke, who was getting ready to leave.
"Sasuke." He called out to him.
Sasuke stopped and slowly turned around. There was no warmth in those dark eyes, so like Itachi's—only a distance that kept everyone at arm's length. "What?" His voice was cold.
"I know you've been through a lot." Ling looked him in the eyes, his tone gentle. "We're all that's left of the Uchiha."
He had deliberately used the word "we," hoping to forge the faintest connection.
But the words seemed to strike Sasuke at his most sensitive nerve. His expression sharpened instantly, edged with almost obsessive wariness. "Don't lump me together with you! I'm not like you!"
In Sasuke's heart, Ling was a fellow clan member who had survived by chance, and might know nothing about the tragedy. But he himself was the sole heir burdened with a blood feud, destined to take revenge on that man! He didn't need sympathy, much less some so-called "kindred spirit."
With that, Sasuke gave Ling no chance to say another word. He turned and walked away quickly, his back resolute and lonely.
Ling watched him go without following. He knew that opening Sasuke's closed heart would be no easy task. It would take time and the right opportunity. Today, he had managed to make Sasuke take some notice of him, even if only through a negative comparison and rejection. That was enough to count as a first step.
Just then, a timid voice sounded behind him.
"Um... you're really amazing."
Ling turned and saw a tiny boy with blond hair and six whisker-like marks on his cheeks. He was looking up at Ling with big, admiring blue eyes. It was Naruto. The nanny who looked after him had brought him to the academy to get familiar with the place, and he had happened to see the sparring match.
The moment Ling's cold gaze met Naruto's, it softened into genuine warmth. He crouched down and ruffled Naruto's soft blond hair. "Naruto, what are you doing here?"
"My aunt brought me! You were so cool just now, big brother! You beat that white-eyed guy in one move!" Naruto danced around excitedly, his trust and admiration for Ling absolute.
Looking at Naruto's innocent smile, then thinking of Sasuke's frozen hatred, Ling sighed softly to himself. Sunlight and shadow, redemption and revenge—where would the futures of these two children, whose fates had been thrown into turmoil because of him, lead?
Holding Naruto in his arms, Ling prepared to leave the academy. But the moment he stepped out the gate, the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of an Anbu figure wearing a cat-faced mask, vanishing from a rooftop across the street.
That wasn't an ordinary surveillance operative. The markings on the mask were more bizarre, and the figure's presence was far more sinister.
One of Root's agents. Danzo had publicly withdrawn the special surveillance, but it was obvious he hadn't given up.
Ling's lips curled into an almost imperceptible sneer.
It seemed this seemingly peaceful school life wouldn't be as tranquil as he'd expected. The eyes in the shadows had never truly left him.
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