The sun rose over the Hidden Leaf Village, painting the rooftops with a warm, golden hue. The sound of rustling leaves and distant chatter filled the morning air, marking the start of another peaceful day. Yet for one man standing atop the Academy's training grounds, it was anything but routine.
Tharion adjusted the dark sleeve of his Tokubetsu Jōnin vest, his eyes calm but sharp as ever. Today was his first official day as an instructor—a title earned not by politics or recommendation, but by strength that had silenced the village's doubts.
Below, three familiar faces stood waiting, stretching in anticipation.
Might Guy, his energy already radiating like wildfire.Anko Mitarashi, smirking mischievously, spinning a kunai on her finger.And Iruka Umino, calm and steady, holding a small notebook ready for any instruction.
All three wore training gear, eyes locked on the man who had defeated a Jōnin with a single move just days ago.
Tharion crossed his arms and gave them a faint smirk. "Alright, you three. Welcome to your first day of advanced combat training. From this day forward, you're under my guidance—and trust me, it won't be easy."
Guy punched his palm with a grin. "Heh! Hardship is the path to youth! I'm ready for anything, sensei!"
Anko leaned forward. "Just don't expect me to run laps before breakfast."
Tharion raised an eyebrow. "Then I hope you ate light. Because your warm-up is ten laps around the field."
"What?!" Anko shouted, nearly dropping her kunai.
Iruka chuckled softly, already starting to jog. "Better start before he makes it twenty."
Guy immediately dashed off, shouting, "LET'S BURN OUR SPIRIT!" as he sped past them.
Tharion watched with mild amusement, then turned his gaze to the edge of the field—where a familiar chakra signature approached. He didn't even have to look to know who it was.
"Still keeping everyone on edge, I see."
Tharion turned to find Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, walking toward him with his usual calm smile. At his side was Kakashi Hatake, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable beneath his mask.
"Lord Hokage," Tharion greeted with a respectful nod. "And Kakashi. Didn't expect to see you this early."
Minato smiled faintly. "You're one of my instructors now, Tharion. It's only natural I check in on the progress of those shaping the next generation." His tone softened slightly. "Besides, Naruto kept me up most of the night, so I needed a change of scenery."
Tharion chuckled quietly. "Parenthood suits you, brother."
Minato laughed under his breath, while Kakashi's visible eye narrowed with interest toward the trio still running laps. "I heard you made Guy run until he passed out last time. I wanted to see that in person."
Tharion smirked. "He's still got five laps to go. You might get your wish."
Minato's tone turned more serious then. "Actually, there's another reason I came. The Council and I agreed—it's time to begin preparing a new batch of Genin for the next Chūnin Exams."
Tharion tilted his head slightly. "A new generation?"
"Yes," Minato confirmed. "The current Chūnin group is solid—Iruka, Anko, Guy, and several others—but we need stronger foundational training for the upcoming academy graduates. I want you to lead their combat conditioning and mental development programs for six months before the exams."
Tharion glanced at the students training before him, then looked back at Minato. "You're asking me to build soldiers, not just shinobi."
Minato nodded. "Exactly. The world is uneasy again. I'd rather they learn from someone who understands strength and restraint both."
Tharion was silent for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Fine. Send me their files. I'll train them—but my methods won't be soft."
"That's precisely why I chose you," Minato replied.
Kakashi finally spoke up, his tone casual. "Guess I'm part of this too, huh?"
Minato nodded. "You'll assist him when you can. Consider it cross-training—he can teach you things that don't come from books or missions."
Tharion smirked. "And maybe I'll learn something from you as well, Sharingan prodigy."
Kakashi's visible eye crinkled. "We'll see who teaches who, sensei."
Minato laughed quietly and then turned to leave, waving over his shoulder. "Don't overdo it on the first day, Tharion. Remember, these aren't you can train with aura pressure."
Tharion gave a short, amused grunt. "No promises."
Once Minato and Kakashi left, Tharion clapped his hands loudly. "Alright! Enough jogging. Now we train for real!"
Anko groaned. "Finally! I thought we'd run all day."
"Not yet," Tharion replied with a grin. "We're just getting started. Next—chakra flow drills."
He knelt and drew several lines into the dirt—an intricate pattern that resembled overlapping rings. "Each of you will focus your chakra into your feet and trace this without disturbing the ground's pattern. It'll teach you balance, control, and motion precision. Fail, and you run again."
Iruka crouched down immediately, focused. Guy burst with enthusiasm. "LET'S TEST OUR YOUTHFUL CHAKRA CONTROL!"
Anko, on the other hand, muttered under her breath. "He's definitely trying to kill us."
Tharion smirked as he watched them begin, eyes shifting between their movements. Iruka's steady precision impressed him; Guy's energy was explosive but raw; and Anko—quick but impatient—needed discipline.
Hours passed, sweat gleaming under the morning sun as their progress continued.
By midday, even Guy looked exhausted, lying flat on the grass. Anko was panting but grinning despite herself. "You… weren't kidding, sensei… this is brutal."
Tharion smiled, tossing her a bottle of water. "Brutal is the first step toward mastery."
Just then, a group of younger Academy students passed by, whispering excitedly as they pointed at Tharion.
"Is that him? The new Tokubetsu Jōnin?""I heard he fought the Hokage's sparring partner and won with one move!""Do you think he'll be our instructor soon?"
Tharion overheard but said nothing, his gaze drifting toward the village skyline.
So, this is what peace feels like, he thought quietly. Training the next generation instead of fighting to survive… maybe this is what the gods intended.
As the sun began to set, he looked at his three exhausted students and spoke, voice calm but resolute.
"Rest well. Starting tomorrow, we double the drills. And once the new Genin batch arrives… you'll be helping me train them."
Guy's eyes sparkled. "Yes, sensei!"
Iruka smiled through his exhaustion. "Understood."
Anko groaned. "You're gonna be the death of me…"
Tharion chuckled lightly, looking up at the orange sky.
For the first time in a long while, he felt grounded—anchored not by war or duty, but by purpose.He was no longer a wanderer between worlds.He was a teacher. A protector.And this village… was his home now.
The sun had already dipped lower, the skies painted in shades of orange and purple, when Tharion was called to the Academy's secondary training ground. His three Chūnin—Guy, Iruka, and Anko—were dismissed for the day, leaving him alone with the new responsibility Minato had handed him.
Waiting at the grounds were twelve fresh-faced Genin, each already twelve years old. They weren't the same age group as Naruto's future peers; this batch was older, with some raw talent but little discipline. They would be the ones entering the next Chūnin Exams under Tharion's care.
Their chatter filled the field, some full of excitement, others clearly underestimating the weight of the assignment.
Tharion approached with deliberate calm, his Tokubetsu Jōnin vest catching the fading light. His gaze swept across them—measuring their stances, their energy, their composure. Some straightened under his stare, others shuffled nervously, but most… still thought this was just another class.
"Silence," Tharion said, his voice carrying across the ground.
The students immediately quieted, though a few smirked as if unimpressed.
"You've all been selected because the Hokage and the Council believe you are strong enough to attempt the next Chūnin Exams," Tharion began, his tone sharp. "But belief is not strength. Hopes won't save you when another shinobi drives steel at your throat."
A hush settled. Even the smug ones shifted slightly.
"I want every one of you to pass," Tharion continued. "That means you will listen, you will obey, and you will take every word I say seriously. Otherwise…" His eyes narrowed, a faint edge of killing intent brushing over them. "You won't survive."
Murmurs spread through the group.
One boy, cocky, with a scar on his cheek, raised his hand lazily. "Tch. What makes you so sure you're worth listening to? We've had instructors before."
Tharion gave him a slow, cold smile. "Instructors teach you lessons. I will teach you survival."
He raised his hand, fingers curling into a seal. In a swift motion, he slammed his palm to the ground.
Fūinjutsu markings spread across the dirt, glowing faintly with chakra. The earth shook. A pulse of energy radiated outward. Smoke exploded upward, and from it a hulking creature emerged—towering, shadow-eyed, with gnashing teeth and clawed hands. Its growl rattled the young shinobi to their bones.
Half of them staggered back, pale. A few dropped their weapons. One nearly screamed.
"Meet my summon," Tharion said calmly, standing directly beside the beast as if it posed no threat. "It obeys me. And if you don't… it will happily test itself on you."
The creature snarled, stepping forward menacingly. The students froze, paralyzed with fear.
Then Tharion lifted his hand, and with a snap of his fingers, the beast dissolved into smoke—gone as if it had never existed.
The Genin stared in stunned silence.
"That was a lesson," Tharion said evenly. "Obedience. Discipline. Survival. If you cannot follow orders, you are already dead. Remember that."
Not a single student spoke now. Even the cocky boy had lost his smirk.
Satisfied, Tharion's expression softened just slightly. "In time, when you've proven yourselves, I will teach you a true summoning jutsu. Not tricks. Not illusions. A pact of strength. Until then—you work under me. You fight under me. And if you endure, you will rise to Chūnin."
The group straightened in unison, determination finally etched on their faces.
"Good," Tharion muttered. "Training starts tomorrow at dawn."
That night, as Tharion left the grounds, he noticed faint whispers along the streets of Konoha. Citizens were gathered in small circles, voices hushed yet urgent.
"…the Uchiha… did you hear what Fugaku's people were testing?""…if they can really control a tailed beast… what does that mean for us?""…we're safe, aren't we? The Hokage wouldn't allow…"
It was still quiet, still small—but the unease was spreading. Tharion caught fragments of their fear. The Uchiha Clan's rumored Sharingan abilities to subdue tailed beasts had begun to circulate among the villagers. Distrust festered, subtle but growing.
Tharion narrowed his eyes. He knew unrest when he saw it—it started small, always as whispers. But whispers had the power to become storms.
For now, he turned away. His task was clear.
Train this generation. Make them strong. Make them ready.
Because the storm—whether it came from within the village or beyond its walls—was coming sooner than anyone expected.