Chapter 5: The Kage's Interest
The message came through official channels a sealed scroll bearing the mark of the Tsuchikage's office, delivered directly to the Academy's administrative building by a stone-faced ANBU operative. By itself, this was not unusual. Inter-village communication was routine, especially between the major shinobi nations.
What was unusual was that the scroll was addressed specifically to Medical-nin Tanaka, and marked with a personal seal indicating it came from Onoki himself.
Tanaka had called Akira to the medical wing immediately after receiving it. The look on her face told him that whatever was in that scroll had changed something fundamental.
"Sit," she commanded, gesturing to one of the examination chairs in her private office. The walls were lined with advanced medical texts and research scrolls, many of them sealed with security markers indicating classified content.
Akira sat, his small body perched on the edge of the oversized chair, his feet not quite reaching the floor. He had already begun running through possibilities. Had he made an error in one of his theories? Had one of his optimization methods failed testing? Had someone discovered that his knowledge was far beyond what a six-year-old should possess?
Tanaka unrolled the scroll and read it silently, her expression shifting from shock to something almost like awe. When she finally looked up at him, there was moisture in her eyes.
"The Tsuchikage knows about you," she said simply.
The statement hung in the air between them like a blade suspended over his neck. Akira's mind went very still, the way it did when he was processing threat assessments.
"How?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
"I don't know," Tanaka admitted. "I submitted my report on your theoretical work to the medical administration two weeks ago routine documentation. Standard procedure. The report must have been forwarded to higher authority, and somewhere along the chain, it reached Onoki's attention." She tapped the scroll. "He remarkably enthusiastic about your potential, he feel that you talent is as good as Tsunade the kohona sanin."
She read portions of the scroll to him then, and Akira listened to the words of a man he had never met, discussing his future with the certainty of someone used to absolute authority.
"A mind of this caliber emerging in Iwagakure is cause for celebration. This child must not be constrained by standard Academy curriculum. Medical innovation requires creativity, not rote learning. I authorize full support for this prodigy's development through the medical wing. He will dedicate four days weekly to experimental research under your supervision, with Academy attendance limited to two days. Provide him with access to all non-classified materials. Resources are not a constraint. Innovation is."
The Tsuchikage's words, transmitted through ink and official seal, had essentially rewritten the structure of Akira's life in Iwagakure.
"You understand what this means?" Tanaka asked, studying his reaction carefully. "The Tsuchikage rarely takes personal interest in individual shinobi. The fact that he's done so for you, at six years old, means you've been placed under his protection and his scrutiny simultaneously."
Akira understood perfectly. Protection and scrutiny were two sides of the same coin. Onoki wanted him to develop his talents unfetterer but he would also be watching, expecting results, measuring Akira's progress against whatever standards a kage judged genius by.
"What does he expect?" Akira asked.
Tanaka smiled, a mix of pride and joy "Innovation. Advancement of medical ninjutsu. Improvements to existing jutsu and possibly the development of entirely new techniques. He's essentially given you a laboratory and told you to revolutionize the field."
The Academy adjustments began the following week.
Mondays and Tuesdays, Akira still attended regular classes. The other students did not notice anything unusual he remained quiet, well-behaved, consistently among the top performers but not spectacularly so. Kurenai gave him a knowing look on the first day after the change, but she said nothing. Orders from the Tsuchikage were not questioned.
Wednesdays through Saturdays, he was in the medical wing.
The medical wing itself transformed in the two weeks following Onoki's directive. A new lab space was constructed adjacent to Tanaka's office a dedicated research facility with examination tables, storage for medical supplies, and a library section containing some of the more advanced medical texts in Iwagakure's possession. There was even a chakra measurement device, the kind normally reserved for elite shinobi training.
Tanaka stopped treating him like a student. Now she treated him like a colleague albeit a very young colleague who occasionally needed reminders to eat lunch.
"We need to start thinking bigger than jutsu optimization," she told him on his first full day in the lab. "The Tsuchikage didn't spare these resources for minor improvements. He wants breakthroughs. So what do you see as the fundamental limitations of modern medical ninjutsu?"
It was the kind of question that could have taken him hours to answer completely. Instead, Akira outlined his observations methodically.
The circulatory system's limitations during high-speed movement.
The difficulty of precise chakra control during emergencies.
The inefficiency of traditional wound-sealing techniques.
The lack of preventative medical applications most medical ninjutsu was reactive.
Tanaka listened intently, making notes, occasionally asking clarifying questions. By the end of their conversation, they had outlined three major research projects.
The first was a new wound-sealing method utilizing layered chakra application rather than single-point sealing faster and more reliable.
The second was a diagnostic technique capable of mapping chakra pathway damage without direct examination—potentially revolutionary in combat scenarios.
The third was the most ambitious: a medical technique to temporarily reinforce the circulatory system, allowing shinobi to maintain high-speed movement without internal damage.
Working in the lab, Akira found something unexpected: joy.
Not emotional warmth his grief remained sealed away, his connections clinical and strategic. But the problem-solving, the challenge, the moment when a theory crystallized into a solution those gave him something like satisfaction.
On his third week in the lab, while conducting early tests on the layered sealing technique, he achieved his first breakthrough.
Traditional sealing required precise chakra concentration at a single point. It worked but was slow. In battle, slow meant vulnerable.
Akira realized you did not need precision—you needed redundancy.
Three rapid overlapping waves of chakra sealed the wound in one-third the time.
Tanaka tested it. Then tested it again. Then tried it on a volunteer with a controlled injury.
It worked. A significant wound sealed in under three seconds instead of fifteen to twenty.
"This is brilliant," Tanaka breathed. "This could save lives."
By the end of his first week with the divided schedule, Akira settled into a new rhythm. Academy days felt trivial now, especially when he was spending his other days solving problems that had challenged experienced medical-nin for years.
Tanaka made it clear that Onoki's protection came with expectations.
As he lay in his bed at the orphanage that night, staring into the darkness, he began planning his next research direction. The diagnostic technique seemed the most achievable. If he could develop something reliable, it would demonstrate clear innovation—proof that the Tsuchikage's investment was justified.
The Tsuchikage wanted a genius. Akira would become exactly that.
From there, he could build something far greater than medical innovation: influence. Security. Indispensable value.
Tomorrow, he would return to the Academy to maintain his cover.