Undercurrents in the Campus and the Seeds of Hatred

For the vast majority of children, the Konoha Ninja Academy is where dreams begin. But for Uchiha Ling, it is more like a meticulously arranged stage—a gladiatorial arena for observing and being observed.

As a special student, he is placed in a mixed-age class where the curriculum far exceeds that of ordinary newcomers, focusing heavily on ninja history, chakra theory, tactical analysis, and high-intensity taijutsu sparring. This is clearly a special arrangement by the Third Hokage, aimed at uncovering and guiding his potential as quickly as possible.

Ling's appearance causes quite a stir in the small class. His Uchiha identity, his handsome yet cold features, and that calm temperament so at odds with his age all make him stand out. Most children avoid him, filled with curiosity and a hint of trepidation. A few youths from prominent clans, such as Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Choji, maintain a cautious, wait-and-see attitude.

Ling does not care about any of this. His goal is clear: to use the resources here to enrich himself and to observe two people up close: Uzumaki Naruto (though Naruto is far from school age, Ling needs to ensure his environment in the village) and Uchiha Sasuke.

Today is a practical sparring lesson.

Ling's opponent is a boy from a branch family of the Hyuga clan, two or three years older than him, named Hyuga Ko. Hyuga Ko clearly harbors a strong sense of rivalry toward the Uchiha, a family as prestigious as his own. He immediately assumes the starting stance of the Gentle Fist, his white eyes filled with undisguised challenge.

"Uchiha, let me see if your Sharingan is truly as formidable as the rumors say!" Hyuga Ko shouts, pushing off the ground to lunge forward instantly. His palms strike with the sound of tearing wind, aiming directly for Ling's vital points in an attempt to block his chakra pathways.

Ling stands his ground, not moving an inch. Under the extraordinary perception and dynamic vision of his Sage Body, Hyuga Ko's movements seem to slow down several times over. That fierce Gentle Fist is full of openings in his eyes.

He does not even activate his Sharingan.

Just as Hyuga Ko's palm is about to touch him, Ling's body slides half a step to the side at an angle so subtle it is almost impossible to capture with the naked eye. Simultaneously, his right hand darts out like lightning—not to block, but to precisely grip Hyuga Ko's wrist joint, using his momentum to pull!

"What?!" Hyuga Ko feels an irresistible, clever force. His center of gravity is instantly lost, and his forward momentum is completely turned against him. Like a kite with a broken string, he is tossed aside by Ling with effortless ease, rolling twice on the ground before coming to a stop, looking utterly disheveled.

The entire arena falls silent.

All the watching students, including the chunin instructor, wear expressions of disbelief. No flashy ninjutsu, no legendary Sharingan—just a single, simple movement to dismantle an attack from the Hyuga clan, who are famous for their taijutsu and pressure-point strikes?

"My apologies," Ling says, calmly withdrawing his hand as if he had done something trivial.

Hyuga Ko's face turns bright red, filled with a mix of shame, anger, and confusion as he looks at Ling. Finally, he lowers his head and retreats in silence. He has no words to defend his defeat.

Ling's gaze, however, does not linger on Hyuga Ko. Instead, it drifts past the crowd to a black-haired boy standing alone against the wall at the edge of the training ground.

Uchiha Sasuke.

He wears a high-collared, dark blue short-sleeved shirt with his hands in his pockets. There is no expression on his handsome little face, only a dead, icy stillness. His eyes are hollow, as if he is indifferent to everything around him. Yet, when Ling easily defeats Hyuga Ko, a fleeting, faint ripple passes through Sasuke's hollow gaze—it is surprise, and a touch of something stirred, an emotion called "comparison."

Ling knows that the experience of the night of the massacre is like a heavy shackle, imprisoning Sasuke's soul in hatred and loneliness. He is like a frozen volcano: cold on the surface, but burning with the flames of vengeance within.

After the lesson, Ling takes the initiative to approach Sasuke as he prepares to leave.

"Sasuke," he calls out.

Sasuke pauses, turning slowly. There is no warmth in those obsidian eyes, which resemble Itachi's, only a cold, distant rejection. "What is it?" his voice is icy.

"I know you've been through a lot," Ling says, looking into his eyes with a gentle tone. "We are all that's left of the Uchiha."

He deliberately uses the word "we," attempting to establish a faint connection.

However, the words seem to strike Sasuke's most sensitive nerve. His expression instantly turns sharp, carrying a hint of paranoid vigilance: "Don't lump me in with you! I am not like you!"

In his heart, Ling is a clansman who survived by accident and perhaps knows nothing of the tragedy, while he is the sole heir burdened with a blood feud, destined to take revenge on that man! He needs no pity, and certainly no so-called "kindred."

With that, Sasuke gives Ling no further chance to speak, turning and walking away quickly, his back resolute and lonely.

Ling watches him go, making no move to follow. He believes that opening the door to Sasuke's closed heart will be no easy task; it will require time and the right opportunity. Today, managing to make an impression on him—even if it is a negative comparison—is a successful first step.

Just then, a slightly timid voice sounds behind him:

"Um... you're amazing."

Ling turns to see a small child with golden hair and six whisker-like marks on his cheeks, looking up at him with wide, azure eyes full of admiration. It is Naruto. He was brought to the school to get familiar with the surroundings by the caretaker looking after him and happened to see the spar.

Ling's cold gaze turns genuinely warm the moment it touches Naruto. He squats down and ruffles Naruto's soft, golden hair: "Naruto, what are you doing here?"

"The lady brought me! Big brother, you were so cool just now! You beat that white-eyed guy in one go!" Naruto dances with excitement, showing complete reliance and admiration for Ling.

Looking at Naruto's innocent smile and thinking of Sasuke's frozen hatred, Ling sighs softly in his heart. Sunlight and shadow, salvation and vengeance—where will these two children, whose fates are chaotic because of him, go in the future?

He holds Naruto and prepares to leave the school. However, the moment he steps out of the gate, his peripheral vision keenly catches a glimpse of an Anbu figure in a cat mask flashing across the rooftop on the other side of the street.

That is no ordinary surveillance Anbu; the patterns on the mask are more sinister, and the aura is far more ominous.

It is someone from "Root." Although Danzo has ostensibly withdrawn his special surveillance, it is clear he has not given up.

A cold, imperceptible smirk tugs at the corner of Ling's mouth.

It seems this seemingly peaceful school life will not be as tranquil as he had anticipated. The eyes in the shadows have never truly left.