You don't hit someone who greets you with a smile.
But the words behind that smiling face cut deep.
Getting old, huh?
If you're old, then you should rest properly.
The meaning behind Minato's words couldn't have been clearer.
The Third Hokage didn't even remember how he'd made it home from the Hokage Building. There was disappointment, yes—but more than that, a deep sense of melancholy. It felt as if the village no longer needed him anymore.
Still, something about it felt strange. Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado had been visiting his home quite often lately, yet his old comrade Danzō hadn't shown up even once. By all logic, he should have been the one most opposed to these ANBU reforms. But Danzō had chosen silence. That was… odd.
Shaking his head, Hiruzen took a sip of tea.
I'm getting old.
Time to rest.
Alright then, Minato—you've really outdone yourself.
After all, I am Konoha's strongest Hokage.
…
Swish, swish, swish!
Konoha Training Ground Seven.
Hakken stood atop the familiar giant tree, with Itachi following close behind, his face full of envy. Below them, a group of ninjas were carrying out their special training in an orderly fashion—training guided by the madmen from Night Owl Team.
Earlier, they had been practicing sword techniques. When it came to kenjutsu, Hakken possessed his own unique insights.
Hmm. The basic horizontal strike.
But as he always said: if you can only master one thing, then master it to perfection. Even the simplest slash is an art form.
Angle. Speed. Force.
What stance brings out the full potential of a strike? What kind of motion allows you to maximize power while minimizing stamina? These were the essentials he had mastered through years of relentless sword practice.
Swordsmanship instruction was just one aspect of the training.
Now, Shisui himself was demonstrating how to swiftly and effectively break through genjutsu, and how to enhance its use in combat. In this field, Shisui was a true master.
Kakashi's task, however, was somewhat different. Despite his young age, his experience far surpassed that of many seasoned ANBU veterans.
D-rank missions: 197.
C-rank missions: 190.
B-rank missions: 414.
A-rank missions: 298.
S-rank missions: 42.
These were Kakashi's complete records as stated in the original. His current numbers wouldn't be far off.
For Kakashi, most of those missions had been accompanied by death and danger—some even tied to the darkness in his heart. Yet, for the others, that experience was priceless.
On a mission, a single overlooked detail could be the difference between life and death. That was why this kind of practical teaching was an essential part of becoming a true ninja.
And Kakashi was more than willing to share what he had learned. Seeing those admiring looks from the younger generation, Kakashi felt as though he had finally found meaning in his existence.
All of this had changed because of Hakken.
The Nightingale Squad was busy at work, but Itachi alone seemed a little downhearted.
He and Hakken were from the same generation, yet he lacked Hakken's terrifying swordsmanship—and even in genjutsu, he was no match for Shisui.
Click.
His finger tapped a familiar spot. Itachi pressed his forehead and rolled his eyes. That move again.
Every time he felt lost, this move always brought him back to his senses.
"Ow, Ken-san…"
Rubbing his forehead, Itachi sat on the branch and muttered.
"You're still so young. To have this kind of strength already is remarkable."
Hakken sighed and sat beside him.
The Uchiha Clan was peculiar. Their true power only soared once the Mangekyō awakened—but for someone Itachi's age, that wasn't realistic. Even so, he had followed Hakken's lead and trained tirelessly. That determination alone was moving.
And despite his youth, Itachi's strength was still impressive. His chakra reserves were limited due to his age, but in shurikenjutsu, ninjutsu, or genjutsu, he could outmatch almost any Chūnin.
Yet, he was still unsatisfied.
Hakken understood why. Standing in his shadow could be daunting. That kind of pressure was natural—but losing confidence because of it wasn't like Itachi at all.
"But Ken-san, you're the same age as me."
Itachi's mouth twitched. To him, Hakken was the very image of an idol. His blade cut through all obstacles.
"You fool. Everyone's talents differ. You and Shisui are Uchiha. The power of the Sharingan will reveal itself to you in time. There's no need to rush."
Hakken ruffled Itachi's hair and pulled him to his feet.
"So until you grow stronger, leave everything to me."
"When your strength is sufficient, it'll be your turn to stand before me."
"Understand?"
When your strength is sufficient, you can stand before me.
The moment Itachi heard those words, his eyes lit up.
No, that wasn't philosophy. What would a six or seven-year-old know about philosophy? This was simple, genuine friendship—the kind that could rival Sasuke and Naruto's.
"I understand, Ken-san. I've rested enough. I'm off to listen to Kakashi-san's lecture."
Nodding firmly, Itachi jumped from the branch and ran toward the distant Kakashi, who was passionately lecturing his students.
Is this a promise with Ken-san? One day, it'll be my turn to stand before you.
You don't understand a damn thing.
Hakken rolled his eyes.
You're not even old enough to pilot a Gundam, and you're already trying? With that small body of yours, you'd break before the machine does.
Shaking his head, Hakken lifted his gourd and took a deep swig.
For some reason, he realized life wasn't so bad right now. The kind of life he'd longed for—a few close friends and a beautiful companion by his side—didn't seem so far away anymore.
Swish.
A figure landed beside him.
"Phew, never realized using genjutsu so much could be this exhausting."
Without hesitation, Shisui grabbed Hakken's gourd, took a long drink, then shook his head and let out a burp.
"But… today felt incredibly fulfilling."
Their comrades were all working toward a shared goal. There was no scheming, no battlefield cruelty—only the admiring eyes of their juniors.
That feeling… he truly liked it.
Maybe I'm cut out to be a teacher.
Smiling to himself, Shisui suddenly remembered something.
"Hakken, what exactly did you mean by that group mission earlier?"
That was the one thing he still couldn't figure out—the mission Hakken had mentioned. What kind of mission required the entire ANBU to mobilize, with special training beforehand?
Of course, what he cared about most was whether his name would appear on the nearly finished Wall of Honor in the heart of Konoha.
Hakken had said that if they completed this mission outstandingly, their contributions would be engraved there for all villagers to see.
It wasn't about vanity. He just wanted that honor.
Nothing more.