A month later, inside the Hokage's office, Third Hokage sat behind his desk, his expression grave as he listened to the latest report from Anbu.
Uchiha's recent actions were slipping further and further beyond his grasp.
A ninja clan engaging in business transactions? And not just simple trades—Uchiha had begun expanding into multiple industries, growing increasingly active in various fields.
"What exactly are they planning?"
Third Hokage pressed his fingers together in a contemplative pose, his mind churning.
The Anbu operative hesitated before continuing, a rare occurrence.
"There's… another matter, Lord Hokage. Uchiha Satoru, as you mentioned before—"
The operative trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
Lately, Satoru had become the undisputed center of attention at the Academy.
Not just in terms of skill or talent—every single student trusted his words with an almost unsettling level of conviction.
But it wasn't just admiration.
The students had started thinking differently.
Questioning the necessity of war. Critiquing the rigid structure of the ninja world. Challenging the concept of noble bloodlines.
They were debating things no child should even consider.
Ninjas were meant to be the sword and shield of their village, raised to follow orders without question.
And yet, what Satoru spoke of was the opposite of that.
It was… dangerous.
The Anbu finished his report, falling silent.
Across the desk, Third Hokage remained still.
But his face had darkened considerably.
What he had just heard… was beyond alarming.
A five-year-old—barely old enough to understand the world—was already thinking like a Hokage.
No, perhaps even beyond that.
It wasn't just insight. It was a new way of viewing the world.
For the first time in many years, Third Hokage felt a tremor in his hands.
They were hands that had wielded countless jutsu, signed countless decrees, held Konoha together through war and peace.
And yet, at this moment, they shook.
Because he knew… if Satoru's ideas took root, they would spread like wildfire.
And the current shinobi world would not survive the flames.
No.
This wasn't idealism.
It was a poison. A slow, creeping venom that could render the next generation unable to pick up their blades.
And that was something he could not allow.
He exhaled slowly, regaining control of his composure.
"That boy… applied for early graduation, didn't he?"
"Yes, Lord Hokage," the Anbu confirmed. "The application arrived not long ago."
Hiruzen nodded.
"Approve it."
"Understood."
In truth, such applications didn't usually require the Hokage's direct approval.
But in Satoru's case…
Hiruzen had deliberately delayed the process, using it as an excuse to observe him longer.
How ironic.
He was the one who had first permitted Satoru to enter the Academy early.
And now, he was the one ensuring he left it early as well.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
---
A few hours later, Satoru lay sprawled across a tree branch, staring up at the sky.
Finally.
After over a month of maneuvering, the approval letter for early graduation was in his hands.
It had taken far more effort than he expected.
Initially, graduating was a simple matter—any student could take the test if they passed the minimum skill requirements.
But then, suddenly, new restrictions had appeared.
Extra qualifications. Additional prerequisites. Unspoken barriers that made it nearly impossible for new students to graduate ahead of schedule.
And Satoru knew exactly why.
Third Hokage is watching me.
It wasn't just because he was an Uchiha.
It was him, specifically.
It was only a matter of time before the old man tried to contain him.
So, Satoru had responded in kind.
If the Hokage wanted to watch him, he would give him something to see.
He became the most trustworthy voice in the Academy. The one students listened to, more than their teachers, more than the textbooks.
He planted ideas. Spread new perspectives.
And like a carefully placed genjutsu, he watched as his influence grew.
Until it became something that Third Hokage could not ignore.
It was predictable, really.
For a man who had spent decades maintaining control, there was only one logical move he could make—
Push Satoru out.
And now, that exact scenario had played out, just as expected.
So why…
Why did he feel so unsettled?
Satoru exhaled, closing his eyes.
Perhaps it was because everything had gone too smoothly.
Or perhaps…
It was because, for the first time, he realized he wasn't just playing the game.
He was being played as well.