The sound was a stark contrast to the slamming of locker doors and the squeak of sneakers on the polished floor. Auzhai wasn't being rude; he was simply existing on a different frequency. To him, P.E. wasn't a grade—it was a survival simulation.
He reached into his locker, but he didn't pull out a backpack. Instead, he retrieved a small, obsidian-colored whetstone. While the other boys gossiped about the upcoming spring festival or complained about the cafeteria’s ramen, Auzhai began a rhythmic, silent sharpening of a small kunai he kept tucked in his sleeve. Clink. Slide. Clink. Slide. Ninja Auzhai - After Physical Education Class
He didn't walk toward the main exit like the others. Instead, he looked up at the narrow ventilation shaft near the ceiling. With a fluid, explosive motion that defied gravity, he leaped. His fingers caught the edge of the vent with a sound no louder than a cat’s paw hitting silk. The sound was a stark contrast to the
The afternoon sun slanted through the high windows of the Shinobi Academy gymnasium, catching the dust motes kicked up by two dozen pairs of scurrying feet. For most students, the end of Physical Education meant the end of the day’s struggle. For Ninja Auzhai, it was the start of a different kind of battle: the transition back to the shadows. wasn't a grade—it was a survival simulation
Auzhai stood by the wooden lockers, his chest rising and falling in a steady, controlled rhythm. While his classmates leaned against the walls, gasping for air after a grueling hour of "Wall-Running and Projectile Evasion," Auzhai looked as though he had merely taken a light stroll.