Second Pattern

That evening after the semifinals, Uchiha Ling neither returned to the classroom nor immediately left the Ninja Academy.

The excitement of the final four matches had yet to fully fade. Small groups still lingered by the stands, discussing the battles. Kiba had lost, but not disgracefully. Sasuke and Ino's match had also left many spectators fired up. Yet no matter how the conversations wandered, they always circled back to the finals.

Uchiha Ling.

Sasuke Uchiha.

It was as though the air itself grew tenser whenever those two names were spoken together.

Ling had just reached the edge of the training ground when Ino caught up from the other side. Though she had already shed the tension from her match, her steps were still a little hurried, as if she feared he would be gone if she slowed down.

"Stop."

Ling turned around.

Ino shoved a clean towel into his hand. She first glanced at his shoulder, then raised her eyes to his. His gaze was as steady as ever, but she could somehow tell that something was off beneath that excessive calm.

"You look exhausted," she said in a lowered voice. "Don't tell me you're going to keep training."

"Just getting myself back into rhythm."

"Getting into rhythm and training yourself into the ground are two different things." Ino frowned, unusually without a smile. "The finals are tomorrow. If you wear yourself out today, I'm going to want to beat you up."

As she said that, she stood close enough for Ling to clearly see the thin layer of sweat still left at her temples, as well as the concern in her eyes that she could not even be bothered to hide.

Ling fell silent for a moment before saying calmly, "I know what I'm doing."

Ino stared at him for two breaths, as though judging how much of that she could believe. In the end, she did not press him further, only softening her voice. "You'd better."

Once she finished speaking, she did not leave right away. Instead, she raised a hand to straighten the slightly crooked collar at his shoulder. The motion lasted only an instant, but when her fingertips brushed the fabric, her heartbeat inexplicably skipped. Annoyed by her own reaction, she immediately stepped back half a pace and pretended nothing had happened.

"Anyway, don't lose to him."

This time, she made none of her usual jokes about doing it for her or for barbecue. She left only those words behind before turning and walking away first.

Ling watched her retreating figure, his fingertips lingering briefly at the edge of the towel before he continued deeper into the training ground.

Not long after, another, softer set of footsteps stopped at the entrance.

Hinata stood there with a small bundle of medicinal patches in her arms. She seemed to have hesitated for a long time before finally approaching once there was hardly anyone around.

"Ling..."

Her voice was soft.

Ling turned back. Seeing what she held, he understood most of it already.

"Bringing medicine again?"

Hinata's ears immediately turned red, but she still nodded. "Your shoulder took another hard hit today... I was afraid it would hurt even more tomorrow."

Ling accepted the medicinal patches without refusing.

Hinata visibly relaxed. She had been afraid that repeatedly bringing him medicine would seem too deliberate, but every time she saw Ling standing there with injuries as though nothing had happened, the concern in her heart could never be suppressed.

"Don't... train for too long tonight," she said, gathering her courage. "If your eyes are uncomfortable too, then you definitely can't force yourself."

Ling paused slightly.

"You noticed?"

Hinata froze for a moment, then nodded gently. "After your match today, your eyes were a little redder than usual."

It was a very careful observation.

Careful enough that even Ling had not expected it.

He looked at the girl before him, who had to gather courage just to say a sentence, and his tone softened slightly. "I'll be careful."

Hearing that, the heart Hinata had been holding tight finally eased a little. She did not stay any longer, only adding in a soft voice before leaving, "Tomorrow... I'll be watching you the whole time."

Once she was gone, the training ground finally fell completely silent.

Ling stood alone in the most secluded corner, his palm pressed against the surface of a wooden post as his breathing gradually slowed. He had won against Kiba, but he knew clearly that Kiba had come closer than anyone before to truly forcing more of his abilities out.

More importantly, during that final shifting sidestep, his eyes had undergone an extremely obvious change.

It was not an illusion.

That familiar stabbing pain had deepened once again.

Ling slowly closed his eyes, then opened them.

The Divine Pattern Eye silently activated.

The world in his vision immediately seemed to break down into finer detail. The grain of the wooden post, the faint traces of chakra lingering in the air, even the flow of energy through his own palm—all became a layer clearer than before.

And in the reflection of the water vat, beside the fine pattern at the edge of his pupil, another faint dark mark had truly emerged.

Like the second, not-yet-complete pattern of the Divine Pattern Sharingan.

Ling's eyes narrowed.

It was about to happen.

Yet precisely because it was not complete, that tearing pain was especially pronounced. It felt as if his ocular power were forcibly expanding, and as if the God Tree Seed within him were slowly sending something deeper into his eyes.

"Now, before the finals?"

Ling muttered to himself, but he did not panic.

Change meant risk, but it also meant new possibilities.

What he needed most now was not to force it forward, but to confirm exactly which aspect of his abilities this second pattern would enhance once it formed.

With that thought, he raised a hand and condensed a strand of chakra.

In the next instant, the internal structure that had once required some concentration to see was directly broken down even more thoroughly before his eyes. Even the most minute difference in density before and after compression was almost distinguishable at a glance.

His analysis speed had increased.

And it was not merely that he could see more clearly. It was as if his judgment had been elevated along with it.

Ling's heart jolted. He immediately took out a shuriken and infused it with chakra. Previously, it took him three or four breaths to stabilize the compression and layering. Now, with the faintly emerging second pattern assisting him, the process had been forcibly shortened by a noticeable amount.

But before he could continue, a sharp pain suddenly flared in his eyes, and his vision blurred.

Ling immediately stopped and dispersed the chakra.

As expected, it was still unstable.

Though the second pattern had begun to appear, it was far from ready for prolonged use. Forcing excessive use in this state would only injure him in return.

"So you're still here."

A voice came from behind him.

Ling turned around and saw Iruka standing at the entrance to the training ground, a medicine box in his hand.

"Teacher."

After walking closer, Iruka immediately noticed the traces of fatigue Ling had failed to fully conceal. His brows furrowed at once. "What are you forcing yourself to train now?"

Ling remained silent for two breaths before answering truthfully, "My eyes have changed."

Iruka froze, clearly not expecting that answer.

"The Sharingan?"

"It's still incomplete." Ling looked toward the reflection in the water vat. "But it's clearer than before."

Iruka did not possess Uchiha bloodline, so he could not truly understand what that change meant. But he could understand Ling's current state. His excitement was restrained, yet his caution had not diminished in the slightest. That meant Ling already knew he had touched upon something significant.

"Before the finals, don't force it," Iruka said sternly. "Eyes aren't like chakra pathways. If they're damaged, a few days of rest might not be enough to heal them."

Ling nodded. "I know."

"If you know, then stop."

Iruka rarely spoke so harshly.

Ling did not argue. He put away the shuriken and turned to leave. When he reached the exit, he instinctively looked back once more at his reflection in the water vat.

That second dark pattern was exceedingly faint, but it was real.

Like a spark hidden in the night, it would sooner or later truly light up.

And he had a feeling.

That moment was not far away.