Sarada peacefully celebrated her thirteenth birthday with family. The uprising fire fizzled without igniting. Grandfather's iron will crushed the rebels at the final meeting; revolution supporters gradually quieted. The world bloomed in new colors for Sarada. Before, she'd lived in constant tension, watching the clan she'd just grown attached to inexorably head toward an ocean of death. Now she could exhale and relax. She felt utterly happy.
The Uchiha were shocked by the leader's sudden decision; even Grandmother was stunned by her husband's statement. But Grandfather changed his mind, and it turned out many Uchiha were wavering: those drifting with the current, afraid to speak as the leader and Yashiro pressured Itachi. Now Fugaku gave them a chance, and they surfaced.
Sarada tried asking Uncle how he convinced Grandfather, but he winced, said he had nothing to do with it—that it was all Fugaku's own decision—and asked how her exam prep was going.
Itachi's question caught her off guard. She'd completely forgotten her attestation was soon, which Grandfather arranged with the Hokage. Half a year ago, Sarada was sure she'd ace it, but now she panicked. She couldn't let down Grandfather, who'd vouched for her. What if past standards were stricter? Or the examiner was like the Sixth, setting hellish conditions like "only one passes" or worse? Failing genin attestation as a genin—humiliation. How to face family, Itachi, Shisui?
Noticing her fear, Itachi laughed unexpectedly. Sarada had never seen him guffaw; even smiles were rare.
"Uncle, what's up?"
Itachi, who'd calmed, snorted again.
"It's just funny."
"Why?!" Sarada huffed.
Uncle suddenly poked her forehead with his fingers; Sarada blinked rapidly, not fully grasping what happened.
"With your skills, you could pass Chunin attestation, yet you're scared of the academy exam."
Sarada touched her forehead. Her lips stretched into a smile.
He really did it? Forehead poke, like Dad?
Shisui leaned against a log, arms crossed, watching his friend and niece spar. With each month around Sarada, he leaned more toward the wild idea she really was from the future. If she was an enemy spy after all—he'd tip his hat. To play the role so naturally required a genius actress.
No, time travel from past to future—he could buy; everyone moved that way. But backward... And some deity... Devilish, not legend. Though, hard to imagine a spy ingratiating with such a ridiculous excuse.
Watching the spar, he noted mentally she'd improved a lot in the year. Itachi wasn't serious, but last summer even that floored her. Now she held her own and used techniques bit by bit. Missed, sure, but at least formed seals in time. Itachi slashed sideways with his sword, deeply cutting Sarada's abdomen.
Shisui froze.
The girl stepped back, touched the wound, and stared surprised at her bloodied fingers. Next instant, her body dissolved into a flock of crows. Birds swirled around Itachi, but he instantly repelled them with Katon. Using Itachi's own techniques against him—doomed. However...
She did it.
How long she'd hounded him and Itachi for this silly technique: show me, show me. Shisui smiled.
I even got scared. When did I start worrying about her?
Itachi fended off electrified kunai with a wind gust.
This ain't Izumi-chan. Itachi won't tolerate your Raiton whining.
He glanced at the sun nearing zenith.
"Alright, kids, gotta go."
Itachi and Sarada stopped fighting.
"Shisui-san, leaving already?"
"Yeah. Duty calls, so keep going without me. You're doing great, Sarada!"
"You called for me, Danzo-sama?"
Danzo nodded curtly. He studied the youth frozen in tense anticipation.
Young, naive, righteous. Uchiha Shisui, you have too much light. You believe in your ideals and commit unforgivable follies. You interfere.
Danzo saw ridding the Leaf of the Uchiha threat as his life's work. He was no longer young, noticing it harder to stand after long sits. He had to hurry. Finish his task in life, but this youth... Somehow, he delayed the Uchiha death knell. The damned clan couldn't live in peace—always a problem. Problems must be solved, sooner better.
"Shisui, I'm told Uchiha Fugaku canceled the uprising at the last meeting."
The boy stayed silent. Just furrowed his thin brows slightly.
"I'm at a loss what wondrous force made Military Police head, Evil Eye Fugaku, suddenly change his mind?"
Silence.
"He's smart," Danzo thought.
"Hokage-sama knows the details."
Stubborn bastard.
Danzo suspected Shisui hid some powerful force. It irked him. In rebellion, Uchiha vs. Konoha outcome hinged on two factors: which side the two geniuses—Itachi and Shisui—took. Their choice decided all. If Itachi's heart key was found at the right moment, Shisui was impossible. He was Danzo's opposite, so Root Anbu leader saw him as enemy from the start.
He won't betray his clan. In crisis, he'll side with Uchiha. Most likely...
"You think you've stopped the coup?"
Shisui tensed noticeably, frowning deeper.
"If so, you're wrong. Fugaku's decision won't preserve peace."
"It's already helped."
"You think so. Leader's power isn't absolute. Most clan members want coup; they won't back down. Removing an unwelcome leader is easy."
Danzo savored doubt and fear dawning in the youth's stubborn gaze.
"So, Shisui, still nothing to tell me?"
"No," Shisui gritted. "Nothing to discuss with you. You're wasting time."
He turned for the door.
"What'll you do when rebellion flares anew at the next meeting?" Danzo sneered after him.
Shisui left without a word, slamming the door loudly.
Sarada sat at a tea house terrace table, warming hands on a hot drink cup. Last summer, she'd met Itachi on this bench. Time flew...
Naruto swung his legs beside her. His tea steamed too, but the kid chanted:
"Ramen... Ichiraku Ramen..."
"We agreed evening. Eat dango," she nodded at colorful sweets on the saucer.
Nanadaime Hokage rested chin on table edge, slanting blue eyes at her.
"But I want ramen."
"Knock it off."
"Ramen... ramen..."
Naruto nagged again. Sarada sipped tea, relaxing as warmth spread down her throat. Ichiraku Ramen and Shinko's tea house were the only spots she and Naruto could hang peacefully. The tea house loved and remembered Sarada; Shinko set the vibe. Ramen shop was Nanadaime Hokage turf. Elsewhere, they eyed them hostilely: Seventh-to-be as known jinchuriki. Sarada as Uchiha crest on dress. Village disliked them, but for peace, Sarada endured. No uprising meant things would normalize. Scary though—if danger passed, Uchiha saved... future changes?
People exited the tea house occasionally. No one minded the kids on the terrace.
"Exams soon, right?" Sarada recalled. "Studying?"
Nanadaime Hokage's sly blue gaze slid away.
Warm breath on her neck. Sarada turned, sensing presence. An unfamiliar boy sat on the bench beside her. Sarada scooted sharply to Naruto, nearly shoving him off backward.
"Watch it, dattebayo!" future Hokage huffed.
Meanwhile, the stranger casually draped an arm over the bench back and declared:
"I know you."
Sarada puzzled over him. Straight thin hair, nearly her length. Slanted eyes, perky pointed nose like an animal's snout. Stand-up collar t-shirt. Uchiha.
"Who're you?" Sarada asked boredly.
Black eyes studied her too intently; she felt uneasy.
"You're Sarada, Fugaku-san's adopted daughter, right?"
He offered his hand.
"I'm Uchiha Michi."
Sarada hesitantly shook. Didn't really want to touch the pushy stranger, but ignoring rude. Michi turned to her, crossed legs, leaned back, eyed Naruto—who gawked wide-eyed.
"And this your cavalier?"
Naruto hesitated briefly, then blurted:
"Yup. Uzumaki Naruto, gonna be Nanadaime Hokage, dattebayo!"
Michi burst laughing:
"Nothin' like ambitions. Commendable."
Sarada frowned.
"Now, now, don't pout—it doesn't suit you," the Uchiha continued. "Looks bad on ya."
"Too familiar?"
Michi smiled condescendingly.
"Gonna take genin exam?"
Sarada noted no forehead protector. Not on brow, shoulder, belt. Nowhere.
Graduate then.
"Yeah..."
"See you there. Hm, not scared?"
"Why should I be?"
He draped the other arm over the bench, puffed chest.
"You didn't train at academy. Sure, you awakened Sharingan, but doubtful it'll suffice. How ya planning sparring stage?"
"Sparring stage?"
"Yeah. Three stages, they say. Written test, basic techniques exam, and last—sparrings."
"I'll manage," Sarada muttered.
Michi snorted.
"If you draw me in sparring—better forfeit quick. Don't wanna hit such a pretty girl. Might scrape by on other spars; one loss won't block your protector."
Sarada blushed involuntarily. Melt from "pretty," or rage at surrender suggestion? Michi had appeal. Appeared from nowhere, casual and bold with a first-time girl; his confident charm swept her.
"If you don't wanna hit a 'pretty girl,'" Sarada mocked, "why not forfeit yourself?"
Michi snorted again.
"'Cause forfeiting to a weaker girl—disrespecting myself. No offense, but no academy, lived clueless from great shinobi clan—so, sorry, your skills dubious."
"If he says one more word, I'll smear him on the wall," Sarada thought. "Great shinobi clan. Uncle says more pride than greatness; I buy it."
"Now you're pouting again. Told ya, doesn't suit. Offended?"
"Figure it out."
"Alright-alright," he stood. "Hope we meet before exams."
Sarada watched puzzled as his Uchiha-crested back melted into the crowd, vanishing.
"What was that?" Naruto asked dumbly.
"No clue," Sarada matched.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan