Training Ground 21 was already scorched by the time Squad 9 arrived.

  The smell of ozone and burnt grass lingered in the air, and a single line had been carved deep into the earth by some chakra-infused technique that looked like it had no business being used outside a battlefield.

  Ken stared at it.

  Daen just smirked.

  “Welcome to Chūnin Exam prep,” he said. “This won’t be like st time. No drills. No warmups. We fight. You adapt. Or you fail.”

  Daisuke rolled his shoulders, already grinning. “Finally.”

  Reina looked more wary. “Adapt to what, exactly?”

  Daen stepped back.

  “Him.”

  A green blur crashed down between them.

  Dust kicked up. The earth cracked under one boot.

  Maito Guy nded in a wide stance, thumbs up, teeth sparkling unnaturally bright in the sunlight.

  “YOUTH!” he bellowed. “You seek promotion?! Then you must bleed before you rise!”

  Daisuke muttered, “Oh god, no.”

  They trained for hours.

  Guy’s sessions were a different kind of pain—one that transcended muscle fatigue and went straight to the soul. Weighted sprint drills. Reflex shock drills. Team-based pressure tests.

  At one point, Reina was dodging fake kunai while healing a clone of Daisuke mid-fight. Daisuke had to spar against three clones with partial chakra suppression seals taped to his arms.

  And Ken?

  Ken was dropped into a speed-pressure chamber.

  Guy set it up: Five shadow clones. All trained to hit hard. All faster than the st. The moment he blocked one, the next came for his blind spot.

  Ken activated his Sharingan—and didn’t block.

  He flowed.

  His bde danced in tight arcs, low and fast, using wind to curve cuts around awkward angles. When the fifth clone struck, Ken weaved a seal mid-dodge and used a fsh-fuse suppression tag on its chest—stopping it cold.

  Guy shouted from the sidelines. “He learns like water through cracks!”

  Daen nodded approvingly. “Good.”

  Then added, “Do it again. Blindfolded.”

  By the end of the day, Squad 9 colpsed under a tree, all panting.

  Ken didn’t compin. But even he breathed a little harder than usual.

  Daisuke looked up at the sky. “This exam better be worth it.”

  Reina pulled her glove off and flexed her fingers. “We’re going to pass. Or die trying.”

  Ken didn’t speak.

  Because for him, failure wasn’t an option.

  Across the vilge, inside the dark stone chambers of the Uchiha council hall, the mood was acidic.

  Three elders sat in silence around the low table, a message scroll from the Hokage’s office unrolled between them.

  It was stamped with Hiruzen’s personal mark:

  “Ken will be pced under special ANBU contract following Chūnin promotion. Status cnless. Rights protected. Assets untouchable.”

  The oldest elder crumpled the parchment with one hand, face tight with fury.

  “He’s gone completely rogue.”

  “He was always unstable,” another growled. “Now the Hokage shelters him. The Hokage.”

  The third elder leaned forward.

  “First Shisui in ANBU. Now Itachi. And Ken soon.”

  “They’re pulling our best from us,” one spat. “They hollow the cn from the inside.”

  The first elder stood.

  “Then it’s time we remind them we are not a tree to be pruned.”

  A pause.

  Then silence again.

  But it was heavier.

  Something was shifting.

  And soon, it would snap.

  Itachi walked the quiet halls of the ANBU annex that night, mask tucked under one arm, sword slung across his back.

  He had heard the rumors. Read the moves.

  Felt the tension in the compound.

  When he passed by the tactical board, he paused, eyes flicking over the roster list.

  There it was.

  Ken – Pending induction (C-rank).

  He stared at it for a moment.

  Then walked on.

  That evening, Ken returned to his small apartment.

  But instead of colpsing onto his mat, he made his way two blocks over—past the corner shrine, past the clinic gate, to the back room where his mother kept spare herbs and Daiki’s old gear.

  They were waiting for him.

  Airi sat at the table, hands folded, face unreadable.

  Daiki stood leaning against the window, arms crossed.

  Ken closed the door behind him.

  “I made a deal with the Hokage,” he said.

  Airi’s hands clenched. “We know. Word spreads.”

  Daiki’s jaw tightened. “You’re joining ANBU.”

  Ken nodded.

  “Once I make chūnin.”

  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

  Then Ken continued, voice lower now.

  “They cut you off to get to me. So I cut a deal to protect you. The clinic’s covered. The house too. You won’t need to rely on the cn anymore.”

  Airi looked up. “And what do you owe?”

  “Three years minimum. Longer if needed.”

  Daiki exhaled sharply. “That’s war work, Ken.”

  Ken looked him in the eye. “I’ve been fighting one since I was born.”

  He turned to his mother. “I don’t know when it’s coming. But the Uchiha… they’re going to break. Maybe soon. Maybe months from now. But when it happens, I’ll be ready.”

  “And we?” she asked.

  “You’ll run,” Ken said ftly. “I’ve found an old tunnel route. When I say go—you leave. No questions.”

  Daiki’s voice dropped. “We’re shinobi. We don’t run.”

  Ken met his gaze without blinking. “You do. Because I won’t lose you, too.”

  When he returned to his apartment that night, Ken didn’t sleep.

  He sealed a copy of the tunnel map in three yers of ink. Burned a backup scroll. And sharpened his bde until dawn.

  Because the exams were just a test.

  But the real war?

  It was coming.

  And he would not be caught unprepared.