The office was quiet again, the only sounds the distant murmur of the Hokage Tower's corridors and the soft rustle of papers as Renjiro shifted in his chair.
Saki had left moments ago, her presence lingering like the faint scent of her perfume—something floral and subtle, entirely at odds with the dusty, paper-laden atmosphere of the office.
Renjiro leaned back, his gaze drifting to the door through which his new aide had disappeared. He had specifically requested a Yamanaka for this role—not out of favouritism, but out of cold, strategic calculation. The Yamanaka clan's mental communication techniques were invaluable, allowing for near-instantaneous coordination between mission control, the barrier division, the medical corps, the Hokage's office, and ANBU. In emergencies, those seconds could mean the difference between life and death.
I could have developed some kind of fuinjutsu-based communication system, he thought, his mind drifting to the possibilities.
Something similar to primitive phones. Seals that transmit voices over distances. A network that doesn't rely on mind techniques.
He almost laughed at himself.
After the barrier seal network. After the purification seal project. After years of nonstop fuinjutsu innovation… I deserve a break. It's good to be lazy for a while.
The thought was almost humorous—Renjiro Uzumaki, the man who had built a seal empire from nothing, declaring that he wanted to be lazy. But beneath the dry humour was genuine exhaustion. He had been pushing himself for months. A temporary respite from advanced seal creation was much welcomed.
He shook his head and returned his attention to the scrolls on his desk.
Saki had been efficient—almost frighteningly so. She had taken notes, mentally organised schedules, and anticipated future workload with the precision of someone who had been doing this for years.
When Renjiro had told her that he would create a shortlist of potential jonin instructors and then send notices requesting a formal meeting, she had simply nodded, made a notation, and left.
No questions. No hesitation. Just execution.
He appreciated that.
Now, alone in the office, he reached for the academy graduation roster—a thick scroll that listed the names, ages, skill levels, and evaluations of every student who would soon become genin.
He unrolled it across his desk, scanning the names, searching for anything that stood out.
Most of the names blurred together—children he had never met, faces he could not picture, potential that would be shaped by instructors he had yet to assign. But two names caught his attention.
Anko Mitarashi.
Izumi Uchiha.
Renjiro's gaze lingered on Anko's file. In another timeline, in another world, she would have become Orochimaru's apprentice—cursed, twisted, shaped by the Snake Sannin's cruelty.
But Orochimaru was gone. Anko would never be his student. Her path had already diverged.
The best I can do now is ensure she gets a good sensei, Renjiro thought. Someone stable. Someone patient. Someone who can help her become what she was meant to be.
He made a note in the margin of the scroll and moved on.
Izumi Uchiha. A name he also recognised from stories of Itachi's childhood, from the tragedy that would unfold years from now. She was young, talented, and already marked by her association with the Uchiha clan.
She needs a good team, Renjiro thought. A stable environment. Good influences around her. If she's isolated, if she's pushed toward extremism, she could become a weapon for the wrong people.
He made another note.
Itachi's absence from the class list was notable. By all accounts, he should have been among these students, struggling alongside his peers, learning the basics of shinobi life. But he had graduated early—years early—his genius propelling him through the academy at a pace that left his instructors breathless.
I'm about to approve his chunin promotion, Renjiro realised, the thought settling into his mind like a stone in still water. He's already accelerating toward the path I remember. The path that leads to tragedy.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
Things are moving frighteningly fast. Itachi is already becoming the person he was meant to be. And I don't know if I can stop it—or if I should.
He shook his head and returned to the scroll.
The decision crystallized slowly, taking shape as he reviewed the files of potential instructors.
I need to personally visit certain jonin, he thought. I have authority now—I could simply assign people through orders. But that's not enough. I need jonin who understands the weight of mentoring children. People capable of shaping the next generation properly. Stable personalities. Patience. Leadership.
He thought of his own personal circle in Konoha. It was small—smaller than most people knew. He had influence, reputation, authority—but few genuine personal connections.
He rose from his desk, gathered a few scrolls, and prepared to leave.
The Hokage Tower's corridors were busy, filled with shinobi and administrative staff going about their duties. They nodded to Renjiro as he passed, some offering congratulations, others simply acknowledging his presence. He returned their greetings automatically, his mind already elsewhere.
Outside, the village was alive with the sounds of late afternoon—merchants calling out to customers, children playing in the streets, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer. Renjiro walked through it all, his steps unhurried, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
The buildings thinned as he moved away from the village centre. The crowds dispersed, the sounds of commerce faded, and the streets became quieter, more residential. Trees lined the roads, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, and the air smelled of earth and green things.
He walked until the village was behind him, until the buildings gave way to forest, until the only sounds were the whisper of wind and the soft crunch of leaves beneath his feet.
The forest clearing was peaceful, untouched by the chaos of village life. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground in patches of gold and shadow. The air was cool, fresh, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.
And scattered throughout the clearing were wooden carvings.
They were everywhere—wolves, hawks, bears, rabbits, creatures that seemed to spring from the imagination of a master craftsman. Each carving was detailed, precise, alive in a way that wood should not be. The wolves had fur that seemed to ripple in the light; the hawks had feathers that looked soft enough to ruffle; the bears had claws that gleamed as if sharpened.
Renjiro walked among them quietly, his footsteps soft on the grass. He stopped before a wolf carving—a large, powerful animal, its head lifted as if howling at an invisible moon. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, better than he remembered, better than it had been years ago.
Of course he'd make one for his summon, Renjiro thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He's gotten good. Very good.
He reached out and touched the wolf's flank, feeling the smoothness of the wood, the precision of the carving, the love that had gone into its creation.
"Whoosh!"
A kunai sliced through the air.
It was fast—faster than most shinobi could track—but Renjiro was not most shinobi. Without turning, without seeming to move at all, he raised his hand and caught it. The metal was cold against his palm, the edge sharp, the weight perfectly balanced.
He did not flinch. Did not tense. Did not even look away from the wolf carving.
"You're still as perceptive as ever," a voice said from behind him.
Renjiro finally turned.
Riku-sensei stood at the edge of the clearing, his arms crossed, his expression carrying the particular warmth of someone who had been caught but was not particularly bothered by it.
He wore simple clothes—a brown jacket, dark pants, sandals that had seen better days. His hands, resting on his hips, were calloused and scarred, the hands of someone who had spent a lifetime working with wood and steel.
"Good to see you too, Riku-sensei," Renjiro said.
=====
Bless me with your powerful Power Stones.
Your Reviews and Comments about my work are welcome
If you can, then please support me on Patreon.
Link - www.patreon.com/SideCharacter
You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon