"Do you want to graduate early?"
Kazuma's question lingered in the quiet room.
Itsuki did not answer immediately.
Until now, remaining in the Academy had seemed optimal. Time to refine fundamentals. Time to observe. Time to grow without direct exposure to battlefield scrutiny.
But recent events had shifted the equation.
The surge in chakra at Ichiraku.
The Academy assessment observed by the Hokage himself.
The Sannin.
Attention changed everything.
He reviewed the pattern carefully.
When he performed in front of ordinary students, the internal resonance within him strengthened only slightly.
When stronger observers were present, the refinement was noticeably sharper.
Pressure mattered.
Witnesses mattered.
Influence mattered.
If he remained in the Academy, most of his demonstrations would be seen by children and a chūnin instructor.
Progress would continue.
But slowly.
His Sharingan still required significant development. Three tomoe was only the foundation. Beyond it lay far more demanding thresholds.
Reaching Mangekyō would require not just growth—but extreme stimuli.
And beyond that… the Eternal Mangekyō.
A distant summit.
He folded his hands calmly.
"If I stay until normal graduation," he said at last, "I will grow steadily."
Kazuma listened without interrupting.
"But steadily may not be sufficient."
Kazuma's gaze sharpened.
"Explain."
Itsuki chose his words carefully.
"The Academy provides safety. But limited exposure. Limited resistance."
"And you want resistance?" Kazuma asked.
"I want calibrated opposition."
Silence settled between them.
Kazuma leaned back slightly.
"You are five."
"And already being observed by Kage-level figures."
That halted further protest.
Itsuki continued.
"If scrutiny is inevitable, then controlled escalation is preferable to passive waiting."
Kazuma studied him for a long moment.
"You believe early graduation will accelerate you."
"Yes."
"And you are prepared for the consequences?"
Itsuki did not hesitate.
"Yes."
Kazuma's fingers tapped once against the floor.
"Understand this. Early graduation means missions. Real ones. Surveillance. Political weight."
"I understand."
"And if you falter?"
"I won't."
The certainty in his tone was not arrogance.
It was calculation.
Kazuma finally exhaled slowly.
"Very well. I will inform the Hokage."
Itsuki inclined his head.
The decision was made.
Remaining in the Academy might allow him to reach Mangekyō eventually.
But the Eternal Mangekyō would require more.
More stimulus.
More pressure.
More exposure to high-level shinobi.
If stronger audiences sharpened his growth, then he needed stronger stages.
Not recklessness.
Strategy.
After a pause, Kazuma added quietly:
"You are certain this is not impatience?"
Itsuki allowed himself a faint smile.
"No. It's optimization."
Kazuma's lips twitched despite himself.
"Very well."
The topic shifted afterward to smaller matters—his parents' mission, clan affairs, routine updates.
But Itsuki's thoughts had already moved ahead.
An early graduation assessment would not be a simple test.
The Hokage would attend.
Perhaps jōnin commanders.
Possibly members of the Council.
Visibility.
Opportunity.
If he performed decisively under those conditions, the refinement would intensify again.
He felt it already—anticipation tightening subtly within his chest.
Not excitement.
Preparation.
The Academy had been a cradle.
Now it was time to step beyond it.
Carefully.
Deliberately.
And with full awareness of who would be watching.