The mistake haunted him.
For two weeks.
Every time Haruki entered the Academy grounds, he expected someone to stop him.
Every time Daichi looked in his direction, he wondered if the instructor knew.
Every time another student glanced his way, suspicion crept into his thoughts.
Nothing happened.
No interrogations.
No accusations.
No hunters appearing in the middle of the night.
Life continued normally.
Eventually, the fear faded.
Not completely.
Just enough for curiosity to take its place again.
The canal became his second home.
Whenever Academy lessons ended and orphanage duties were complete, Haruki slipped away.
The location was secluded.
Quiet.
Hidden by old stone walls and drifting mist.
Perfect for secrets.
Tonight was no different.
Moonlight reflected off the water.
The village sounds felt distant.
Haruki knelt beside the canal and stared at his reflection.
A young Academy student.
Nothing special.
Nothing dangerous.
Yet hidden beneath the surface of his ordinary appearance was something most people in Kirigakure would fear.
The thought unsettled him.
It also motivated him.
If he possessed this power, then he needed to understand it.
Control it.
Before it controlled him.
His hands moved through a familiar sequence.
Tiger.
Rat.
Bird.
Water Bullet Technique.
A small projectile launched from the canal.
The jutsu struck a wooden target.
Thwack.
A shallow dent appeared.
Haruki nodded.
Reliable.
Consistent.
The technique had become second nature.
Which meant it was time to experiment.
Slowly, he formed the same hand signs again.
But this time he focused on the strange cold sensation hidden within his chakra.
The sensation that appeared whenever frost formed.
The sensation he could never quite explain.
The chakra moved differently.
More slowly.
Sharper.
Like winter flowing through his veins.
The feeling spread into the water.
Nothing happened.
Haruki sighed.
Again.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
Hours passed.
The moon climbed higher.
His chakra reserves dwindled.
Frustration built steadily.
He knew the bloodline existed.
He had seen proof.
Tiny sheets of ice.
Brief flashes of frost.
Yet every attempt to intentionally shape it failed.
Maybe he was approaching it incorrectly.
His father had never explained how Ice Release worked.
Only that it had to remain hidden.
Haruki closed his eyes.
Thinking.
Water.
Cold.
Chakra.
The three elements appeared connected somehow.
Not separate.
Connected.
The realization sparked an idea.
His hands rose once more.
This time he didn't begin with Water Release.
Instead, he gathered chakra slowly.
Carefully.
Feeling every movement.
Every fluctuation.
Then he directed it toward the water's surface.
The canal rippled.
The temperature dropped.
Haruki could feel it.
The air around him became colder.
A thin layer of frost spread across the water.
Larger than before.
Several feet wide.
His eyes widened.
Progress.
Real progress.
The frost remained stable.
For nearly three seconds.
Then shattered.
The ice melted instantly.
Gone.
But Haruki was smiling.
For the first time, he had maintained it.
Not accidentally.
Not briefly.
Intentionally.
The following week became an obsession.
Academy.
Training.
Orphanage.
Canal.
Repeat.
Every day.
Every night.
Slowly, the frost improved.
Three seconds became five.
Five became ten.
The frozen surface expanded.
A few inches.
Then a foot.
Then two.
Still weak.
Still fragile.
But growing.
Haruki pushed carefully.
Never recklessly.
His father's warnings remained fresh in his mind.
Power revealed carelessly became a death sentence.
Power controlled became survival.
One evening, after a particularly exhausting Academy session, Haruki arrived at the canal feeling frustrated.
The day had gone poorly.
He had lost two sparring matches.
Missed several target throws.
Made mistakes during chakra exercises.
Ren had spent most of the afternoon reminding him about it.
Repeatedly.
Haruki was tired.
Annoyed.
And strangely determined.
The combination proved dangerous.
His hands formed a new sequence.
Not one copied from a scroll.
Not one taught by an instructor.
Something improvised.
Something built through trial and error.
Chakra flowed.
The cold sensation answered.
Water rose from the canal.
Only a small amount.
Perhaps enough to fill a bucket.
Haruki concentrated.
The water trembled.
Then froze.
His breathing stopped.
The floating water had transformed into a small sphere of ice.
No larger than his fist.
Perfectly solid.
Perfectly real.
For several seconds, it remained suspended in the air.
Haruki stared.
Disbelief filled his expression.
Then his concentration slipped.
The sphere dropped.
Crashing onto the canal bank.
Crack.
Fragments scattered everywhere.
Silence followed.
Haruki slowly approached the broken ice.
His pulse thundered inside his chest.
He knelt.
Touched one of the fragments.
Cold.
Solid.
Real.
He had done it.
Not frost.
Not accidental freezing.
A genuine Ice Release technique.
Primitive.
Weak.
Unnamed.
But undeniably Ice Release.
The realization struck harder than expected.
This wasn't simply chakra control anymore.
This wasn't ordinary ninjutsu.
This was his heritage.
The same power his parents had died protecting.
The same power hidden beneath the name Yuki.
For several moments, Haruki remained motionless.
Thinking about them.
Thinking about his father.
His mother.
The home he barely remembered.
The future they would never see.
"I'll get stronger."
The words escaped quietly.
Almost a promise.
Almost a vow.
Later that night, Haruki sat beside the canal.
Exhausted.
Satisfied.
The compass rested in his hand.
Moonlight reflected off its worn metal surface.
The first technique wasn't impressive.
It couldn't defeat anyone.
Couldn't even qualify as a proper combat jutsu.
But every journey started somewhere.
Tonight, he had taken the first true step toward mastering Ice Release.
A step nobody else could know about.
Not yet.
Not until he was strong enough.
Not until he could protect himself.
Not until the name Yuki could be spoken without fear.
Haruki closed the compass.
Then stood.
Unaware that somewhere deep within Kirigakure's archives, forgotten records still existed.
Records describing a nearly extinct bloodline.
Records describing the techniques of the Yuki Clan.
And records that would one day reveal exactly what kind of power slept within Haruki's veins.