Chapter 14: The Art of Names
The thirty-ninth year of Konoha had arrived with all the weight of inevitable change. Five months had crawled by since the last significant events, each day bleeding into the next like ink on wet paper. In the shadows of the village, wheels turned within wheels, and the powerful watched those they deemed worthy of attention.
Hatake Sakumo had been watching. Every mission report that crossed his desk mentioned the same name—Uchiha Rei. The boy returned from each assignment more refined, more dangerous. Where others rested, he trained. Where others celebrated, he pushed his limits. Sakumo had seen many prodigies burn out early, consumed by their own ambition, but this one felt different. The lightning jutsu the boy had developed spoke of genuine innovation, not mere mimicry of clan techniques.
After his latest discussion with Minato, Sakumo had made his decision. Some tools were too valuable to leave unsharpened.
The ANBU escort moved through Konoha's winding streets with practiced silence, Rei following without question. He'd learned not to ask too many questions when masked figures came calling—survival often depended on such restraint.
"Minato-sama." The ANBU operative stopped mid-stride, bowing slightly to the blonde figure approaching them.
Minato's smile was warm, but Rei caught the tension beneath it. "Hello there." His blue eyes fixed on Rei with something that might have been sympathy. "Rei, it's been too long."
"Missions keep me busy." Rei's response was carefully neutral. "Have you finished that technique you were working on, Brother Minato?"
The honorific felt strange on his tongue now—too familiar for the distance that had grown between them, too formal for their shared history. Everything in this village walked such careful lines.
"Completed it yesterday, actually." Minato's expression brightened, though something haunted lingered behind his enthusiasm. "Though I've been wrestling with what to call it. Names have power, you know."
Rei suppressed a grimace. He knew all too well about Minato's... creative approach to nomenclature. "Whatever feels right to you."
"Super Invincible Wind Style Rasengan Jutsu!" Minato announced with the pride of a father naming his firstborn.
The ANBU operative's mask couldn't hide his stunned silence. Rei felt a familiar weight settle in his chest—the exhaustion that came from navigating the absurdities that somehow shaped this world's fate.
"Very... distinctive," Rei managed.
"Domineering, right?" Minato laughed, but the sound carried an edge. "Actually, I still think you should reconsider the name I suggested for your technique. 'Chidori' seems so plain compared to 'Super Thunder Silver Light Impact Zero.'"
"Chidori suits me fine." The refusal came quickly. In a world where everything seemed designed to complicate itself, Rei clung to simplicity where he could find it.
"Fair enough. But any future techniques—I get naming rights." Minato's grin had a manic quality that made Rei's skin crawl.
"I'm heading to see the Hokage about finding a complementary technique for the Rasengan. Want to come along?" Minato's casual tone belied the weight of the invitation. "I need something for when opponents are too fast to hit directly."
Rei understood the unspoken truth. Minato had sparred with Sakumo and found himself wanting. In this village, such revelations led to desperate measures. The Forbidden Scroll called to those who discovered their limitations too late.
"What would I do there?" Rei kept his voice level, though unease crawled up his spine. He'd hoped to avoid the Hokage's direct attention for longer.
"Ah." Minato's embarrassment was almost convincing. "I may have mentioned to Sakumo-sama that you'd be perfect for ANBU after making Chunin. Hope you don't mind."
The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. "So that's why Sakumo-sama..."
"Sorry for not asking first," Minato continued, but his eyes held no real remorse. Everyone was a chess piece here, even friends.
"I see." Rei stepped back. "I should go."
The body flicker technique carried him away before anyone could respond, but he felt their gazes following him long after he'd vanished.
---
The Hatake compound felt like a trap from the moment Rei entered. Eyes watched from hidden positions—Sakumo's loyal followers, men who would die or kill at their master's word. Their devotion bordered on fanaticism, the kind that had ended clans and toppled villages.
The training ground opened before him like an arena. Two figures danced their deadly ballet in the center while Hatake Sakumo observed with the dispassion of a craftsman evaluating tools. White-haired and broad-shouldered, the White Fang of Konoha carried himself with the casual confidence of someone who had never met his equal.
The smaller figure moved with inhuman precision. Five years old, and already Kakashi fought like a seasoned killer. His opponent—one of Sakumo's elite chunin—was being systematically dismantled by a child who barely reached his waist.
'The legendary Copy Ninja,' Rei thought, watching the brutal efficiency on display. 'Already a weapon at five. What kind of childhood creates monsters like this?'
"That's enough for today," Sakumo called out as Rei approached. "Thank you for the session."
The combatants separated with ritual bows, but Kakashi's single visible eye remained fixed on Rei. Even behind the mask, the boy's intensity was palpable—a predator evaluating potential prey.
'Uchiha,' Kakashi thought, noting the clan symbol and the way this newcomer carried himself. 'He feels dangerous.'
"Uchiha Rei reporting, Sakumo-sama." The formal greeting felt appropriate here, where hierarchy was enforced through violence. "Your son is remarkable. Such taijutsu skills at five—his ninjutsu must be equally impressive."
Sakumo's approval was immediate and genuine. Praise for Kakashi was the surest path to the man's favor, a weakness Rei filed away for future reference.
"Kakashi has potential, but nothing compared to what I hear about you." Sakumo's modesty was paper-thin. "Yamanaka Inoichi speaks highly of your mission performance. Says you're a 'true genius ninja.'"
The words hit like a physical blow. Rei had thought himself unnoticed, carefully cultivating an image of competent mediocrity. The revelation that his every move had been catalogued and reported felt like discovering cameras in his bedroom.
"Genius is just another word for consistent effort," Rei deflected. "This world has only two types of people—those who work hard and those who don't. Talent is secondary."
"Wisdom beyond your years." Sakumo's approval seemed genuine. "Minato was right—you'll be one of the village's pillars someday."
The casual assumption of loyalty grated. As if serving Konoha was destiny rather than choice, as if the village deserved devotion rather than earning it.
Sakumo wasn't one for extended pleasantries. "I called you here about ANBU. Interested?"
"The Hokage's personal forces?" Rei kept his expression neutral while his mind raced. ANBU meant access to secrets, but it also meant deeper entanglement in the village's web. Once you joined, leaving became significantly more complicated.
"I'm still a genin. Don't ANBU require higher rank?"
"The Chunin Exams are next month. You'll participate." It wasn't a request.
Rei weighed his options in the span of a heartbeat. Refusal would mark him as uncooperative, potentially hostile. Acceptance meant abandoning any pretense of staying beneath notice. But perhaps visibility was inevitable—better to control the circumstances than have them thrust upon him.
"I'm honored by your confidence, Sakumo-sama. I won't disappoint."
Even as he spoke the words, Rei wondered what he was truly agreeing to. The current ANBU might still retain some honor, some purpose beyond wetwork and intimidation. With Danzo's Root handling the village's darker necessities, perhaps Sakumo's ANBU remained relatively clean.
The thought felt naive even as he entertained it.
"Excellent. I look forward to working with you."
---
Leaving the Hatake compound felt like escaping a spider's web, though Rei suspected he'd simply traded one trap for another. The village streets carried their usual bustle, but everything felt different now—watched, evaluated, catalogued.
He nearly made it home before encountering Minato again. This time, the usually cheerful man looked like someone had kicked his puppy.
"What happened?" Rei asked, though he suspected he already knew.
"The Hokage." Minato's voice carried bitter disappointment. "I offered him the 'Super Invincible Wind Style Rasengan Jutsu' in exchange for learning the Flying Thunder God. Know what he put on the official scroll?"
Rei waited.
"'Rasengan.' Three syllables. Classified as S-rank, available only to those who've made significant village contributions." Minato's hands clenched into fists. "Was my name really that inappropriate?"
The pain in his Minato's voice was genuine.
"Your naming sense is unique, Brother Minato," Rei said, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Don't let bureaucrats steal your artistic vision."
"You're right!" Minato's despair transformed into fierce determination. "I need to make the Hokage understand the importance of proper naming!"
He vanished in a yellow flash, racing toward the Hokage Tower with renewed purpose.
Rei watched him go, a smile tugging at his lips despite everything. In a village full of calculated moves and hidden agendas, Minato's genuine passion for something so ridiculous felt almost pure.
Almost.
The smile faded as Rei continued home. Tomorrow would bring new missions, new observations, new reports filed in some bureaucrat's cabinet. The Chunin Exams loomed ahead, and with them, his formal induction into Konoha's inner workings.
He'd wanted to stay in the shadows a while longer. But perhaps it was better this way—better to be inside the machine than crushed beneath it.
The thirty-ninth year of Konoha was shaping up to be very interesting .